"I have to look at your arm, Sestrilla." He ripped her sleeve away to expose the wound. A chunk of her arm was missing, up near the bicep, but it was a flesh wound. They'd been lucky. "Infection happens fast in the forest," he told her, his voice as gentle as he could make it when his cat refused to settle.
"I've got a few things in my bag that will help," she confided. "I study medicinal plants, so I always carry a few."
"Do you have painkillers?"
"They don't work so well on me," she said, attempting a small smile.
He was grateful for that little smile. She was comforting him, and that turned him inside out . He could tell it bothered her that his usual calm was gone on her behalf. She was having a hard enough time keeping him at arm's length, and having his cat and the man be so agitated over her injuries and the threat to her was disturbing.
"We've got to go," Rio said. He was in the forest, out of Isabeau's sight.
Conner knew it wasn't modesty. Leopards weren't modest about nudity. When they shifted, they generally carried or cached clothes in the areas they lived, but they often shifted in front of one another. Rio was more concerned for Isabeau, who wasn't raised leopard, and for Conner's reaction. Isabeau was near the Han Vol Dan, the emerging of her leopard and her leopard's heat. She was putting out enough hormones to rock all the males, mated or not. He wasn't taking a chance of Conner getting more aggressive.
"We've taken care of most of them, and the others have turned tail and run, but they might suddenly get their courage back. Let's get to shelter."
"What about me?" the young leopard asked.
There was silence. Conner looked over the top of Isabeau's head at the young man. He'd been like that once, looking for adventure and something besides the village.
"You'll be coming with us. I have a few things to say to you."
The kid put his arms down as he let out his breath in obvious relief.
"Don't look happy about it, kid," Conner snapped. "I'm going to beat the hell out of you."
"Jeremiah. My name's Jeremiah Wheating." He flexed his claws and grinned at Conner. Now that he was safe, he was back to looking cocky. "I'll look forward to it."
Conner had the urge to cuff the kid. Seriously smack him. His mate was still bleeding and the kid was looking like he was full of himself all over again. He turned away from the young leopard to keep from springing on him and ripping the smirk from his face. With gentle hands, he wrapped up Isabeau's arm and, because he couldn't help himself, he pressed a kiss over the bandage, uncaring what she--or any of the others--thought.
"Let's move out. Adan? You all right?"
"Still deciding whether or not to shoot our young friend," Adan answered from where he was hiding in the brush. "It's more tempting than you could possibly know."
"Oh, I think I have some idea," Conner said. He slid his hand down Isabeau's arm until his fingers tangled with hers. "Let's get moving."
"Where are we going?" the kid asked eagerly. He nearly bounced as he hurried after them.
Elijah launched himself into the air, leaping on the kid's back, hitting him with enough force to knock him over. The boy rolled in the leaves and insects, and Elijah kept going without breaking stride, his large paws making no sound as he paced alongside Conner.
Conner sent him a small nod of appreciation. Isabeau turned her face against his side and muffled a small laugh.
"You did good, Isabeau," he praised. "You didn't panic."
"I knew you'd come," she said, shocking him.
There was a quiet acceptance in her voice. She might not realize it, but she trusted him a lot more than she let on. "He didn't threaten me at first. He was shocked when he came out of the brush and I was there."
Conner sniffed his disdain, his cat chuffing in annoyance. The kid hadn't used his leopard senses even when he was hunting. His disdain for Adan had left him handicapped. He hadn't done his homework. He didn't even realize who he was hunting. Adan's skill in the rain forest was known far and wide, yet the young man hadn't been aware of him.
"What village do you come from?" Conner asked, suddenly suspicious.
"My village is in Costa Rica," Jeremiah said cheerfully. He shot Conner a quick grin. "I've been around. It's not like I've never been out of the forest."
This time Rio charged him, knocking him flat. He hit the kid hard enough to produce a grunt of pain. As Rio moved off the boy, he cuffed him hard with his large paw, his claws retracted, but definitely a reprimand.
Jeremiah rolled, came up in a crouch, scowling at the large leopard as he dusted himself off. "Hey! I have been around."
"Obviously you didn't learn respect," Conner pointed out. "You have five elders here and an elder from one of the local Indian tribes as well as a female. So far I haven't been impressed."
The boy had the grace to look ashamed. "I just want to see some action," he said.
"How did Suma contact you?" Conner asked.
"Internet. He put an ad up asking for help. I figured I was just the thing he needed." Jeremiah stuck out his chest.
"Young. Impressionable. Stupid." Conner spat on the ground.
"Hey!" Jeremiah's cocky grin faded to another scowl. "I just want some action. I don't want to spend my entire life locked up in some boring village with the elders telling me what I can and can't do. I'm fast."
"You have to be more than fast in this business, kid," Conner said. "You have to know when to depend on your cat and when to depend on your brain and when you need to blend them both. You're all over the place. Right now, you're walking so hard, any leopard in the forest would be able to hear you." He shot the boy a hard look. "Adan would have heard you coming a mile out."
Even in the darkness, the kid's flush was apparent. He made an effort to walk quietly. "You could teach me."
"Do I look like someone who wants to teach some damned cub wet behind the ears? You sank your claws into my mate, you ass." His cat rode him hard all over again, furious that he didn't attack the kid right then. His breath came out in a long hiss and his muscles contorted.
Isabeau stumbled, whether deliberate or not, he didn't know, but his arm slid around her waist and he simply lifted her, cradling her in his arms. She stiffened, opened her mouth to protest. Her gaze met his and she stayed silent.
He needed to hold her. Her weight was nothing to him, but the feel of her in his arms was everything. He nuzzled the top of her head and glared at the youngster. The kid didn't have any idea yet how difficult it was to find a mate. He had no idea about life or danger. The idea of living on the edge was a terrifying lure to the young. He knew because he'd been the same way. He'd been young and cocky and full of his own strength without a clue of what mattered or would ever matter.
Conner closed his eyes briefly and wondered why the universe was slamming him so damned hard. He couldn't just turn the kid loose to get killed--and Suma would kill him. Jeremiah Wheating wouldn't stand by and watch children be killed. The moment Suma took him to Imelda Cortez and the kid realized what was really going on, he'd see himself as the hero and get himself killed. Conner had no choice but to look after the little punk.
He sighed and looked down into Isabeau's upturned face. She smiled at him.
"What?" He asked it almost belligerently. She had too much knowledge in her eyes.
"You know what. I don't think you're as much of a bastard as you want everyone to think you are. Not by a long shot."
"I came close to killing him. And he damn well deserved it."
"But you didn't."
"The night isn't over yet."
She just smiled and his belly tightened. He didn't want her getting the wrong idea about him. The kid was going to learn a lesson tonight. Isabeau would think he was a brute, and the kid would sulk for a while, but his cat would be happy again and maybe give him a little respite from the clawing need and the sharp, angry reprimand.
The cabin was just ahead, built high in the trees, hidden by the heavy vines and broad leaves surrounding it. He had mappe
d it out for the others just in case they were separated. He had lived there for several years with his mother, separated from others while she mourned the loss of her husband. His father had never been her true mate, but she had loved him.
The cabin didn't hold happy memories for him, but the moment he'd stepped foot in the rain forest it was the first place he'd gone. He'd spent two days making repairs and stocking it so they'd have a base camp if needed. It wasn't for sentimental reasons. He wasn't a sentimental man. He should have checked in immediately with Rio, but he needed the time to readjust. And he'd gone looking for his mother. Now he knew why she hadn't been there.
Strangely, the cabin looked as though it had been occupied recently, lulling him into a false sense of security. He'd even found a couple of his old toys, a truck and an airplane carved from wood out on the table. He'd imagined his mother looking at them and remembering their times together in the cabin. Now he didn't know what to think.
He set Isabeau on her feet and leapt up to catch a vine. Pulling himself, hand over hand, he gained the small porch and dropped the ladder made of tight vines down to the others. He shoved bundles down to them, knowing the men would need the clothes after they shifted, and then he dropped back to the ground.
"I'm not certain I can climb," Isabeau admitted. "My arm has really stiffened up." Even as she voiced her doubt, she reached up to grasp the ladder.
"I can take you up," Conner said, "but you'll have to go over my shoulder."
She gave an experimental pull, winced and let out her breath. "It's a long way up. I think I'm going to forgo my pride and just let you take me up." She stepped back from the ladder.
Conner signaled Adan to go up and pointed to Jeremiah. "You can wait down here for me. We're going to have a little talk before I invite you in."
The kid's eyes showed his nerves, but he nodded gamely. Conner took Isabeau up without further delay. She was swaying on her feet and needed her wounds attended to. He wanted her on antibiotics and whatever medicine she was carrying. They had a first-aid kit stashed with the antibiotics, but no painkillers. She'd warned him she didn't do well on them, but he wasn't certain what she'd meant. He'd never conceived of her getting shot. If the juvenile leopard hadn't taken her hostage, it never would have happened, another sin against him.
He put Isabeau in the most comfortable chair--his mother's chair--and poured her fresh water from the small tap at the sink. "It's good water from a spring we found," he offered.
Her hand shook as she took the water. She looked exhausted, her clothes soaked, her body shivering in shock, but she managed a small smile.
"Don't worry about me. It's a scratch, nothing more. I've had worse working."
He thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. It didn't matter that her hair hung in wet trails, or that her face was drawn and pale. She had courage and she didn't complain when she'd just been through a terrible ordeal.
"You might remember I have some skills as a medicine man," Adan said, keeping his distance across the room. "She has plants and herbs I can use in her bag." He held it up almost as an appeasement, leery of Conner's leopard.
Conner glanced in the small mirror his mother had insisted they have over the sink. His eyes were still wholly cat. His teeth ached and the tips of his fingers and toes burned with the need to allow his leopard freedom.
"Are you comfortable with Adan cleaning your wounds? He's an adept medicine man." His mother had often taken Conner to the village whenever he was injured, and it was always Adan who had taken care of the minor damages. There had been a doctor a greater distance away who took care of any injuries from fighting young leopards.
"Of course," Isabeau agreed readily--too readily for his cat.
"Stay inside," Conner managed to growl, his smooth voice turning to gravel.
The animal snarled, forcing Conner to turn away from her. She was learning about leopards. Intelligent. Cunning. Fast. Foul tempers. And jealous as hell. He walked out onto the porch and breathed in the night, flexing his aching fingers. He needed a good fight. It was common for the males to give one another a good workout when females were close to the heat and they were all stirred up and unable to do much about it. Or when they were just plain angry.
Conner didn't use the vines, but leapt to the forest floor, landing almost in front of Jeremiah. The boy drew in his breath sharply and peeled off his shirt, flinging it aside. Conner was already stripping. Fast. Efficient. Eager now, his leopard raking and roaring to be free.
Jeremiah was built with strong lines. Ropes of muscle moved beneath his skin, and when he shifted, he was a big leopard, stocky and ferocious. Conner could see why the kid was eager for a challenge. His leopard, eager for the fight, waited for the younger man to make the first move. To prod him a bit, he snarled, exposing his teeth, and flattened his ears, his eyes focused on his prey.
Jeremiah reacted as expected, wanting to prove himself--still smarting over the reprimands Rio and Elijah had delivered and the lectures Conner had given. He snarled, exposing his canines, and took two experimental swipes at Conner, hoping to slap his face hard enough to knock him sideways and establish dominance fast.
Conner slipped both paws and growled, the sound swelling to a roar that shook the surrounding forest. Ears flat, lips drawn back, his tail switched viciously at the taunt.
Without warning, Jeremiah launched himself, claws extended, intending to rake Conner's side and gain respect. Conner was too experienced to ever allow such an attack to work. Using his extremely flexible spine, he twisted in midair, allowing the lethal claws to miss by an inch, and turned in pursuit of his prey, swiping laterally, taking fur and skin from Jeremiah's exposed side and belly.
Conner was heavier, more experienced and far more muscular. He changed direction in midair using hip rotation so that when he landed, he was nearly on top of the younger man. He didn't want to end the fight so soon, needing the physical workout. He slammed into Jeremiah with the force of a battering ram, driving him off his feet. The smaller leopard turned as he went down to protect his soft belly, rolling and scrambling to get back on his feet.
Conner sprang, using the leopard's natural agility and grace, knocking Jeremiah over and over so that he rolled across the clearing and up against a broad tree trunk. The two went at it, snarling, growling, bodies rolling on the ground. Blows landed. Claws occasionally ripped furrows in fur and skin. The hard jolt of large paws landing gave Conner satisfaction. It felt good to use up his energy and his cat's anger in the rough-and-tumble way of his people.
Jeremiah surprised him. The kid held his temper and took a punishment without shirking. He got in a few solid blows Conner would feel for days, but he didn't resort to illegal moves or try to rip his opponent into shreds. Conner had a lot more respect for the kid when they lay panting, side by side, nursing their wounds and eyeing each other warily.
"Are you two going at it all night?" Isabeau called from above them. "Or are you hungry?"
The two leopards looked at one another. Jeremiah rubbed a paw over his twitching nose and shifted. His naked body sprawled out on the grass, covered in sweat and blood and bruises.
Isabeau squeaked and turned away. "Take a shower before you come up. And put some clothes on."
Conner studied the kid as he sprinted for the shower, clearly motivated by the idea of being fed. He looked to be somewhere between twenty and twenty-four. He had the muscle mass and the coolness under fire. He was young and eager and had no idea of what he was getting into, but he was game. He didn't whine and he hadn't run, even when Conner had given him a good beating, testing the kid's resolve to take his punishment.
He moved like water over rock. They'd have to work on his stealth. He sounded like a damned rhino crashing through the brush, but he also was a bit of an eager puppy. He looked up and met Rio's eyes. They'd all watched--partly to test the kid--partly to make certain Conner didn't allow his cat to kill him. Rio nodded, confirming the boy had earned enough respect that the
y'd give him a try.
Conner waited until Jeremiah had gone up the ladder and the others had gone back into the cabin before he walked over to the shower. Feeling a little lazy, but good, he shifted and allowed the water to pour over him. It was cold, but invigorating. He could feel the bruises already starting to form up and down his body. There were one or two places where the boy's claws had ripped skin, but his cat was calm, the first respite he'd had since he'd laid eyes on Isabeau.
He let the cold water pour over his hot skin and allowed himself to breathe, really take a breath. Before, Isabeau's scent had been drawn into his lungs, surrounding him, inside him, overwhelming his senses until he felt a little crazy. He had to come to some kind of a balance in order to function properly. They had to get the children back and that would mean proceeding with the plan to get into the compound.
He dried off slowly and turned alternate ideas over and over in his mind. The thought of touching someone other than Isabeau was abhorrent to him. The idea of a woman as cruel and immoral as Imelda kissing him or touching him would inflame his cat to madness. He wasn't certain he could actually do it. Not now. Not with her close and certainly not with her on the verge of the Han Vol Dan.
Isabeau had no idea what would happen when her cat emerged. She would never, under any circumstances, tolerate another woman near her mate. Conner shoved his fingers through his damp hair and stared up at the cabin, hesitant to go back in where his cat would react to the close proximity of the men around Isabeau. He was in for a long night. His body was not going to get a reprieve from the relentless urgent demands.
She had more power over him than she knew. On the nights he'd managed to sleep, he woke with the sound of her laughter in his mind. The image of her diving into water, looking over her shoulder, enticing him. His memories were mixed now, old and new. Past life and present one. All Isabeau. Everything good in his life was now simply Isabeau.
He'd been walking through the motions for a year. Hiding in the States. He'd heard her voice everywhere he went. His skin ached for the touch of hers. He couldn't find a way to keep the blood in his veins from thickening and heating every time he thought about her--which was all the time. He hadn't realized--until he saw her again--just how numb he'd been. Everything in him came alive when she was near.
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