Wild Rain (Leopard People 1)
Page 30
Rio forced himself to turn away from her, from the look on her face, so lonely, so vulnerable, so much pain in her eyes. He didn't dare gather her to him, he'd never let her go. He waded away from her.
"May all the magic of the forest be with you and may good fortune be your companion as you travel." Her voice was rough with raw pain. "Good hunting, Rio."
He stopped, keeping his back to her. He had glimpsed pain in her before. Knew the signs of trauma and betrayal. Was familiar with rage born of helplessness. The anguish went deep and left scars. He couldn't look at her. Her suffering was harder to bear than his own. "I don't know anything about love, Rachael. Meeting you was unexpected, but everything about you makes me happy. I'm coming back for you."
He continued to wade out into the water. She was crying. Her tears would be the end of him. He'd rather face the entire bandit camp than face her tears. There was no way to change what he had to do. He couldn't comfort her. There had been violence in her life. He recognized the signs. He could only hope that by doing what was necessary he didn't lose his chance with her.
Rio went under the water, swimming through the narrow tunnel he had painstakingly scooped out and shored up with an artificial tube. It had taken several years to find the chamber and secure an entrance. He had several places scattered around the river and forest he could use if necessary. His people were a secretive, cautious species and he had learned over the years the value of preparation.
Once under the small falls, he swam underwater to the center of the river and allowed it to sweep him farther downstream. He didn't want to leave tracks or scent for the hunter after he'd taken such careful precautions to keep Rachael safe. It was a risk leaving her in the chamber injured as she was. She had the weapons and light and food for several days, but still she could easily panic being underground. They were arboreal, preferring the high branches of the trees to the ground.
Rio spent many hours lying perfectly still, backup for his men. The others entered the camps to retrieve the victims. He remained outside from some vantage point, a marksman few could surpass, the last line of defense for his unit. He was used to the solitary life, living alone the way he did and carrying out his job, but unlike the leopard, his species were not meant to be alone. They mated for life and beyond. Rachael was certain to have a difficult time alone.
He exited the water a mile downstream from the waterfall, shifting into his animal form, happy to feel the full strength and power of his kind. He lifted his muzzle and scented the wind. At once he was flooded with information. He stretched languidly before springing easily over a fallen trunk. Dawn was beginning to break in the forest.
The thick, haunting mist shrouding the forest began to lift, slowly evaporating as the warmth of the sun penetrated the clouds. A chorus of birds began, each trying to outdo the other as the strange music rang through the trees. The range went from melodious to harsh, even tuneless, as they all called to one another flitting from branch to branch. A burst of colors as birds took to wing signaled morning in the forest. Gibbons joined in, claiming territory with gurgling cries and whooping yells.
The leopard ignored the noisy flapping and whooshing of birds with great wings as he leapt into the lower branches of a nearby tree to make use of the overhead highway. The forest had stirred to life and Rio utilized the noisy chatter, hurrying through the trees back toward his home in the hopes of picking up the scent of the hunter. Rio made his way quickly back upriver, listening for calls of warning or sudden silences that would indicate an intruder was stalking through the territory of the pigtailed macaque. Timid and shy, the macaque would often leap to the forest floor and run when disturbed, another sign of trouble.
It was the barking of the deer that alerted him first. The short, harsh calls were used to warn members of the herd among the trees as tail flipping couldn't be seen through the heavy shrubbery and thick tree trunks. Rio snarled and sank low on the branch, going completely motionless in the way of his kind. The hunter had just become the hunted.
Because he wasn't high up in the canopy, the leaves of the tree he was crouched in remained still, unaffected by the wind. The sunlight filtered through the breaks of foliage overhead to dapple the leaves and forest floor below. That provided more concealment for him, a natural camouflage. Insects buzzed around him; a green fence lizard shifted its color from bright green to dark brown as it settled against a branch just a few feet from him.
A bearded pig grunted and crashed through the shrubbery beneath his tree, startled by something. Spring-loaded muscles bunched in anticipation. The tip of his tail occasionally switched, the only thing to move. Piercing yellow-green eyes smoldered with fire and intelligence. The leopard waited, frozen in place. The spotted leopard, a fully grown male, emerged cautiously, pushing its head through a multitude of ferns. The animal limped as it padded across the forest floor, snarling at the troupe of gibbons screaming foul things at him from the safety of the canopy. Twigs and leaves rained down as the monkeys threw things in defiance. The spotted leopard maintained his dignity for a few moments, then in the mercurial way of their kind leapt into the lower branches with flattened ears and exposed teeth. The gibbons erupted into a wild, terrified frenzy, rushing through the trees in every direction in an effort to get away.
Rio never moved, not even when the evil eyes, two spots lost in a pattern of spots, appeared to be staring right at him. Rio locked in on his prey. His yellow-green stare became focused, all tension gathered in his eyes. With great patience, he waited and watched, completely motionless. The intruder leapt back to the forest floor, a silent lift of his lip indicating his contempt for the gibbons. Cushioned feet allowed him to move in silence over the thick vegetation.
Rio stretched out on the branch, a slow belly-to-branch stalk, using incredible muscle control. He crawled forward a few inches, froze and repeated the crawl, going from cover to cover--gaining inches, then feet, pacing above the spotted leopard. He reached the end of the branch. The spotted leopard moved silently just below him, unaware of Rio stalking him from above.
The intruder took one step. Another. Hesitated, opening his mouth wide. Rio sprang from above, hitting him hard, sinking canines deep, puncturing the fur-covered throat, while razor-sharp claws dug deep in an effort to rip and tear. Rio wanted the battle over as fast as possible. Fights between leopards were extraordinarily dangerous.
The spotted leopard was game, twisting with its flexible backbone, raking with extended claws, bucking hard to try to throw the larger cat off. Rio held on grimly, determined to end it. The roars and grunts echoed through the forest, a vicious battle between two dangerous foes. Overhead the birds took flight, calling warnings in every language they could. Squirrels and lemurs chattered and scolded. Monkeys screamed in panic. Flying fox took to the air along with the birds so that the sky seemed alive with wings.
The spotted leopard shook and twisted and snarled, raking at Rio, trying to eviscerate or cripple him. He couldn't shake the black leopard off; the canines remained buried in the nape of his neck, the jaw pressure enough to snap bone. It was over quickly, the surprise attack giving Rio the edge he needed in the fight. The spotted leopard gasped, suffocating, the throat crushed. The black leopard held him longer, making certain it was really over before dropping the cat on the ground.
Rio shifted into his human form, staring at the leopard regretfully. They needed every member of their species alive. Each leopard they lost was a blow to their survival. There had been no labels in the clothing the sniper had left behind, no means of identification. Rio had no idea which country his enemy had come from, or why one of his kind would choose to betray his people with such an act, but he was certain this one had not been born anywhere near his village.
Did that mean that Rachael's people knew what she was and that she was under a death sentence? They had strict rules they all lived under. The laws of the forest were for the common good of their species. If she had committed some crime against her people, it was possibl
e they would send hunters after her.
Rio rubbed his hand over his face. If that were the case, her elders could appeal to the elders of his village to carry out the sentence for them. Rio was already under banishment. He doubted if the elders would stick up for his mate, especially if she wasn't known to them and under a legitimate sentence of death. He swore as he shifted back into the shape of a leopard to drag the carcass up into the high branches of a tree. He had no choice but to burn the leopard to preserve the secrets of their species. He had to find his nearest stash of supplies fast. Leaving the body of a leopard was extremely dangerous so he had no choice but to cache the body until he returned.
His mind raced with the possibility of Rachael's people condemning her. She admitted her own brother had taken out a contract on her life. It made sense, although he couldn't imagine what Rachael could have done to warrant a death sentence. He moved swiftly through the forest, ignoring the warning cries of the gibbons, still panic-stricken from the fierce fight that had ensued. Birds fluttered overhead, darting in and out of the trees. Deer crashed ahead of him, scattering as he leapt from branch to branch, occasionally taking to the forest floor and leaping over rotting tree trunks.
The wind shifted slightly, a tiny breeze where ordinarily the uncanny stillness in the air gave nothing away. Rio came to an abrupt halt. There was another in the forest close by. He recognized the scent of the leopard. The birds and gibbons and even the deer had been warning him, but he'd been so distressed over the thought of Rachael being under a death sentence, he hadn't picked up on it.
Fortunately, he was close to his pack. The box was buried nearby, in the cage created by the buttress roots of a large dipterocarp tree. He had marked the fruit-bearing tree with a small symbol. Using his claws, he dug up the box quickly, listening now to the news of the forest. The second leopard was approaching quickly, obviously catching his scent.
Rio shifted to human form, strapping on weapons as fast as possible, his expression grim. Only after his guns were checked and his knives concealed did he drag on the clothes and attach the small medical kit to his belt. Feeling the impact of the leopard's focused stare, he whipped around, rifle up and ready, finger on the trigger.
"You're up early, Drake." His voice was pleasant, relaxed, casual even, but the barrel never wavered from dead center on the cat's brain and he didn't take his finger from the trigger.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Drake's form contorted, lengthened, muscles reshaping to form the man. He glared at Rio. "You want to tell me why you're still pointing that thing at me?"
"You want to tell me what you're doing here?"
"I spent most of the night tracking you and that rogue leopard. You, I lost, he wasn't as good. You wounded him and that made it easier for me to track him."
"Why?"
Drake frowned. "You tick-ridden son of a bearded pig. I decided to go back to guard your butt out of concern for your well-being. By the time I got back to your place, you and Rachael were gone and I had to track you through the forest. It was slow going when I realized the sniper was tracking you as well. He lost you a few times and I stayed behind him, wanting to see what he did." Abruptly he stopped and glared. "Damn it, Rio, put the rifle down. It's not only insulting, it's annoying."
Rio slung the rifle over his shoulder. He kept his hand free, ready to go for his knife even while he grinned at Drake. "I am not tick-ridden."
"That depends on who you ask. Where's Rachael?"
The smile faded from Rio's face. "Did the elders send you, Drake?"
"What is wrong with you? Why would the elders send me to protect your sorry butt, Rio?"
Rio didn't smile. His eyes gleamed with piercing intelligence, smoldered with danger. "Did they send you after Rachael?"
Drake frowned. "I never made it back to the village. I went with Kim and Tama upriver toward their village, but changed my mind and doubled back. As far as I know, the elders have never heard of Rachael. And if they have, they certainly don't know she's with you. Tama and Kim would never say anything. You know them. You know they could be tortured and they'd never say anything. What's this all about?"
Rio shrugged. "He was one of us. Not our village, I doubt if he was born in this country, but he was one of us. Why would he hire out to kill one of his own kind? A woman at that?"
"We aren't a perfect species, Rio, you should know that." The moment the words escaped, Drake shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. There have been a few rumors over the years. A few going after money, women, power. We aren't immune to those things, you know."
"I guess not. I appreciate you watching my back, Drake. Sorry for the reception."
"The pitiful reception. I trust you got him."
"He's dead. He left his clothes behind last night and there was nothing in them, not even a label. I needed matches."
"You haven't told me where Rachael is. You didn't leave her alone, did you?" Drake sounded anxious.
"She's fine. She has a couple of guns and a few knives. She's handy with a stick too. I'll tell her you were expressing your concern."
A slow grin spread over Drake's face. "You're jealous, Rio. You've been bitten by the green-eyed monster. I never thought it would happen, but you fell like a tree in the forest."
"I'm cautious, Drake. There's a difference."
"I think you just tried to insult me, but I'm laughing too damned hard to care. Where is this mystery man? You go get your lady and I'll take care of the mop-up. I'm heading back to the village to call up the unit. We're going in after that church group."
"Who's guarding your worthless butts, Drake?"
Drake shrugged. "Conner is a crack marksman. He isn't you, but he'll handle it." He held out his hand for the matches.
"I don't like it, Drake. Breaking up the unit is a bad idea."
"What's the alternative? You can't leave Rachael alone. Unless you bring her to the village. You know that would be risky. You two belong together. I don't know how well that's going to sit with them."
Rio handed him the matches. "I'm heading home, Drake, call me on the radio when you're going in."
12
RACHAEL leaned against the cavern wall for support as she put weight on her injured leg. Surprisingly, the pain she expected didn't flood her entire body. The puncture wounds had stopped draining. She felt strange, itchy. Something crawled under her skin. Her body seemed foreign to her--sexual, intensely feminine. She could barely stand the feel of the shirt against her skin and slipped the buttons open, wanting to be free of the slight weight of it. She would have torn it off of her but it retained Rio's scent.
She inhaled sharply, drew him into her lungs, into her body, and held him there. Her breasts ached unexpectedly, nipples tightened and her feminine sheath wept for him. She burned. There was no other way she could describe what was happening, her skin burning with need, her body unable to stay still. She turned to the cavern wall and placed her hands high over her head, curled her fingers into the dirt wall and raked downward, leaving behind deep grooves.
Rachael felt his breath on the back of her neck and she stiffened, but didn't turn around. His arms slipped around her body, his hands cupping the soft weight of her breasts, thumbs sliding over her aching nipples. His body, wet and naked, pressed against hers. She recognized the feel of him instantly, the hard frame, the thick, rigid erection pressing against her bare buttocks. Rachael closed her eyes and breathed his name with relief. "Rio." She rubbed her bottom back and forth against him, nearly purring like a contented cat. "I'm so glad you're safe."
Rio kissed the nape of her neck, his teeth nipping her skin, teasing her senses. His hands stroked and caressed her breasts, while his mouth nudged the collar of the shirt aside. She allowed the shirt to slip from her arms, arcing into him, bending forward to push tightly against him. His hands left her breasts to explore her body and she almost sobbed with the intensity of pleasure. A single sound tore from her throat when his hand teased the curls
at the junction of her legs, pressed into her heat.
There was a strange roaring in her ears, anxiety, hunger and need. His finger slipped inside her and at once her muscles clenched and gripped. She couldn't help pushing back, riding his hand on the edge of control. She wanted him inside her, wanted him deep, thrusting with hard urgent strokes.
He pressed her forward to rest her hands against a shelf. She could barely breathe with wanting him, needing him inside of her. He pressed tightly against her entrance, his hands on her hips. Rachael couldn't wait, wanting to take him deep, thrusting back as he surged forward. Her joyous cry of relief and welcome echoed through the cavern.
Rio tightened his hold on her, throwing his head back, desperate to hold on to control. She was hot velvet, gripping him as tightly as a fist, the friction fiery, sending flames along his nerve endings. The tango was wild and fast, a coming together so fast and hard it was feral, a ferocious joining neither could stop.
Rachael pushed back again and again, wanting more, always more, ravenously hungry for his body, a voracious sexual appetite that could only be assuaged by his deep, hard thrusts, creating fire. Creating heaven. She wept with the beauty of it, with the absolute perfection of their joining. He filled her as no other could, his body completing hers. Sharing hers. He rode her hard, thrusting deeper and deeper, but she still wanted more. Craved more. She felt her body tightening, heat rushing, gathering into a terrible force. He seemed to swell inside of her, thickening until she was exploding, imploding, fragmenting into a million pieces, and her body rippled with waves of pleasure. She heard her voice, his voice, husky growls of ecstasy ripping through a throat in a tone that was not hers, could never be hers, yet wasn't his either. They blended together, united.