The Hunted

      Mason crouched high in the tree, holding his body as still as he could manage even though every inch of him begged for freedom. He didn't want to be still any longer. He wanted to jump for joy.

      The man had watched as the pirates had come tromping through the jungle, clearly on the lookout for something. His blood had run cold and then immediately began to boil when he made out the form of the horrible Pierce Vane coming up at last. It took every bit of self-control Mason possessed to keep him from dropping down on the man, hoping to simply crush him to death beneath his falling weight. He was about to start down the tree anyway when something else caught his eye.

      There was someone else coming.

      Someone farther back, crouched down in the bushes. He would have missed them if a flash of lightning hadn't illuminated their frame for a moment.

      Why would one of Vane's men have fallen so far back?