Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 146530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Over the years, he had come to terms with the predatory side of his nature. Now, it was a matter of always keeping it under control. He honed his hunting skills every chance he got, knowing they would be an asset to his team, so long as his killer instincts were never allowed to take over. He had seen what happened if the monster got out of control. The entire team had. That could never happen again. That meant continually strengthening his discipline. Working on restraint. He didn’t let a day go by without performing the mental and physical exercises that allowed him to maintain complete control of himself.
He waited there without moving until darkness had finally fallen, bringing with it a sliver of a moon. His blood moved through his veins like thick lava, slow and hot, though from the skin out, he’d gone as cold as ice. That was the way he kept his energy level so low, it was impossible to detect.
At last he began to make his way up toward the grove of trees from which the woman had issued her earlier call. The mist grew thicker the higher up he went. He was in full predatory mode, switching between using the vision of an owl and that of a leopard to traverse the misty forest with ease. He could also use wolf vision when he needed to, but the owl and leopard both had superior night vision.
It had taken some time to sort out the fact that he had the skills of each of the three predators in him, along with their individual drives. Those weren’t the only predators Whitney had put in him either. Not by a long shot. He was a mixture of far too many predatory species, all of which brought out the worst in him—this tremendous joy in the hunt. This endless, gnawing hunger for it.
He had tried to hide what he was from Ryland and his fellow teammates, too ashamed to let them see what he’d become, but there were times on a mission . . . And then the nightmare finally happened, when there was no going back, and he’d been forced to stare at the truth of what kind of monster Whitney had truly created. They’d all been there. His friends. His teammates. In the end, he just had to come to terms with what he was and learn control.
As he continued his prowling trek up the mountain, he was more than a little surprised to see several types of plants and trees that grew only in the rain forests with high humidity. Jonas slowed down to get a better look. This section of forest could easily be part of some bioexperiment that had been going on for years. It was as if he’d stepped into a beautiful, mythical garden. Exotic flowering plants circled the bark of the trees, climbing high toward the canopy, draping branches in variegated or dark leaves and bright, velvety blossoms. The trees were also varieties that thrived only in warm, humid climates, yet they appeared extremely healthy, trunks wide, branches strong and leaves abundant.
His first thought was that he’d stumbled into one of Whitney’s experiments. He knew Whitney was into plants, heard he kept greenhouses all over the world in his hideaways, where he grew all sorts of plants and flowers, including some of the rarest and most exotic breeds in the world. Hell, he’d even named the girls he’d bought from orphanages after flowers. Some people might have thought that proof of a nurturing soul, but only if they didn’t know the sort of cruel, torturous experiments Whitney inflicted on those same girls. All in the name of science and patriotism.
Peter Whitney. A modern-day Mengele wrapped up in an American flag.
Suppressing the sneer that curled his lips, Jonas clamped down on the rage thoughts that Whitney stirred up. This was neither the time nor the place for him to get distracted by old injustices. Because if Whitney was behind whatever was going on up here, he, Jeff and Kyle were in more danger than they suspected.
He took a careful look around, his senses flaring out, utilizing every enhancement he had in order to find any hidden traps and to identify any poisonous plants. He knew one or the other was there. More likely both. He could feel the danger surrounding him.
He pulled up the mental file of poisonous plants he kept in his head and scanned through it as he looked around. He and his team traveled all over the world and trekked through a lot of wild and dangerous places. Often they encountered a variety of environmental dangers while on a mission, including plants so toxic that one unwary scratch could cost someone an arm. Sometimes it seemed like everywhere they went, even the plants were out to kill them. Because of that, Jonas had made a point of studying books on botany, committing to memory every hazardous or helpful plant, tree, shrub or flower they might encounter.