Wild Rain

Chapter Thirteen

THE bath was heaven. Rachael slipped beneath the water to soak her entire head. She hadn't felt clean in weeks. Days of taking sponge baths didn't work for her, especially when an infection ravaged through her body the way it had. She came up and looked at Rio, trying not to let the happiness in her burst out. He'd been through such an ordeal, fighting the leopard, and he hadn't talked much about it. He looked older, the lines in his face deeper, shadows lurking in his eyes.

He rubbed shampoo into her hair. "You look happy."

"I never thought a bath would feel so good. Whatever Tama used on my leg is a miracle product. I couldn't believe the difference in the swelling and I'm certain it helped heal the puncture wounds. They'd been draining all the time, but now it's stopped. I feel so much better."

"Good." His fingertips rubbed her head in a slow massage. "Fritz is back. He snuck in when I was heating the water. I saw him go under the bed."

"What about Franz?" She wanted to moan with ecstasy. His fingers massaging her head were magical. "I'm worried that we haven't seen him."

"He followed us through the forest. He was in the canopy. He'll come in when he's ready."

"You should have pointed him out to me. I have to be more alert." She smiled up at him through the shampoo. "See, if I were a leopard, I would have noticed."

"I expected him, and we travel together all the time. I know his patterns. Leopards will even cache food in the same place repeatedly, making it easy for poachers to destroy them. We have to fight to keep from setting patterns. We all have that tendency and in a business like ours, it can get a person killed. I try never to use the same path twice. I never use the same escape route twice. I don't come to the house the same way. I have to make certain I always think about it."

Rachael ducked under the water to rinse out her hair. She didn't feel feline right then, she loved water, the hotter the better. She wanted to stay in the bath for as long as possible. She was beginning to realize bathing was a luxury. When she came up, wiping her eyes, she heard the radio crackling.

"I thought that was broken. Didn't I shoot it?"

"Drake left his for me." He picked up the small handheld radio and listened to the warble of distorted voices. "They think they've found the right camp. They're going in soon, probably after midnight."

She read the anxiety in his voice. "You stayed behind because of me, didn't you? Rio, if you need to be with them, go. I'm perfectly fine by myself. I've got weapons here. You know I can use them."

"There's more to it than that, Rachael. You always take on responsibilities that aren't yours. I make my own choices, the same as you. I wanted to stay with you."

"Because you didn't altogether trust them."

He shrugged. "Maybe I don't right now, not where you're concerned. If the elders of your village contacted the elders in mine and asked them to aid in carrying out a death sentence, it's possible the elders here would agree. They don't know you and our laws are very strict. Some might think harsh."

"You really think I'm some sort of a shape-shifter, don't you? I can't change my form. I've thought about it and tried, just to see if you're right, but nothing happens. I'm still me."

"Just hear me out for a moment, Rachael. Suppose your mother took you and your brother away from her village. She didn't want to upset the balance in the village but she decided she was too young to live the rest of her life alone so she chose to give up her heritage and live entirely with her human side."

Rachael rested her head against the back of the small tub he had carried up from a locked shed nearby and painstakingly filled with water he had heated. Darkness was slowly falling in the forest. The night creatures were stirring to life. "I suppose she might have thought that way."

"She met your stepfather."

"Antonio."

"She met Antonio. He was handsome, wealthy and very nice. He courted her, she fell in love with him and married him. His estate was on the edge of the forest. Every night it called to her. Night after night. The Han Vol Dan, the way of the change, whispered and tempted. Finally she began to steal away and run free in the forest in the way our kind is meant to do. Antonio wakes up night after night and his woman is gone. He's alone in his bed. What do you suppose this good man thinks?" Rio helped her stand and wrapped a towel around her. Lifting her from the tub he leaned into her, catching a bead of water that was running down her neck, lapping with his tongue. "He would think what any man would think. His beautiful wife was stepping out on him. And he would follow her."

Rachael shivered at the tone of his voice. "Okay, you don't have to add any drama in. You're a very scary man when you want to be."

"I was just thinking how I'd feel if I thought you were sneaking out of our bed to go meet with another man."

"Well quit thinking about it. You obviously have a very vivid imagination, and in case you haven't noticed, your claws are bursting through your fingertips."

He looked down with some surprise to find she was right. His hands were curled and stiletto switchblades-thick, curved and dangerous-had emerged with his rising temper. His claws could be rapidly extended through muscles, ligaments and tendons when needed or retracted when not in use. His frown gave way to a wry grin. "I'm not too civilized, am I?"

"I guess we can't take the jungle out of the man."

"But you weren't afraid of me, sestrilla, that should tell you something right there. Any normal woman would be terrified to see claws on a man."

She sat on the edge of bed, laughter in her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not normal? I think you've managed to mention that a couple of times now. It's rather like the old saying, 'the pot calling the kettle black'. In comparison, I'm perfectly normal."

"I think being what I am is perfectly normal, Rachael, and I'm more and more convinced that you're like me. I think your stepfather saw your mother shift shape. He loved her and it didn't matter. He may have even thought it was extraordinary. But if the elders in her village found out that he knew, that a human knew, they might banish her or worse, sentence him to death."

"Kim and Tama know."

"They're tribesmen. They live in the forest and have a deep respect of nature and other species. Not all men do."

"So my stepfather moves us in the dead of night into the city and we immigrate to the United States."

She obviously didn't realize how much that single sentence told him. Her stepfather had been afraid for his family, moving them at night to the States. "Where he has family and an estate in Florida on the edge of the Everglades. Where your mother can continue her nightly runs without fear of reprisals. I think he moved to protect your family." He watched her closely, with sharp, piercing intelligence shining in his eyes.

She averted her face, tossed off the towel and reached for a shirt. "Well he didn't do a very good job of protecting us. Or himself. His own family isn't so very hot. Not in the rain forest and not in the States. They're probably every bit as rigid or worse than your elders. You're on the wrong track, Rio."

"Maybe. It's possible. Didn't his family accept you and your brother?"

She shrugged casually-too casually. "At first they pretended they did."

"He came from money," Rio guessed.

"He had money. A lot of it. At least his family did."

"What family? Did he own the estate near the forest outright, or did it belong to his family?"

"His brother owned it with him." Her voice was without any inflection whatsoever, but he felt the distaste. Revulsion even. It was almost tangible in the room between them. "They shared all the homes, even the ones in the States."

Rio's radar went off immediately. "So they are very wealthy. They really can afford the million-dollar reward. Rachael, has it occurred to you that the reward is only to be paid if you're returned alive? The sniper wanted you dead. Could there be two factions at work here?"

She swung her head around to look at him, some emotion flickering in the depths of her eyes. "I didn't think of that."

"So it's possible."

Rachael nodded reluctantly. "Yes. And both sides have a great deal of money. My brother and I inherited my stepfather's share of the estates and his part of the businesses."

"How did your stepfather and your mother die?"

"They were executed. The official police report said they were murdered."

"Then there were autopsies performed."

She shook her head. "The bodies disappeared out of the morgue. They were stolen. It was a big scandal. I was still young and it was a terrifying time."

"So where did you and your brother go after your parents died?"

Her shoulders were rigid. "To our uncle, my stepfather's brother. He shared the estates and businesses and took us in."

"So it's your uncle who is either paying to keep you alive or wants you dead."

"He would never pay to keep me alive." She struggled to keep bitterness from stealing into her voice. "Why are we talking about this, Rio? Just the thought of him makes my skin crawl. I left that place. I left those people. I don't want them here in this house with us."

"Your brother is a part of you, Rachael. I can tell you love him. It's in your voice when you talk about him. Sooner or later this has to be resolved."

"You obviously care about the elders in your, village, but they banished you. I can love my brother and know I'm a liability to him and that it's better for him if I'm not around. Better for both of us."

He tapped his finger on the wall. "Why? What have you done that makes him better off without you?"

Her gaze was suddenly cool as it swept over him. "I don't talk about my brother with anyone, Rio. It isn't safe for you, for me or for him. If you can't accept that…"

"Don't go getting all edgy on me again. I asked a perfectly reasonable question."

She watched the heat shimmer in his eyes. "I don't think anyone with a temper like yours should ever call me edgy. I'm hungry, not edgy."

His eyebrow shot up. "Do you know how to cook?"

She glared at him. "I'm a perfectly good cook. I've been polite not wanting to get in your way. I've noticed you have a tendency to be territorial."

Before he could reply, the radio crackled again. Rio spun around and rushed across the room to snatch it up. There was a moment of silence. "It's a go. We've got a go." There was more static and words Rachael couldn't catch. "What are they saying?"

"I'm listening to them talking to one another. They're going in to get out the victims. They'll have to go in like ghosts. With one, it's more a grab and get out, but you're talking several victims. There's bound to be one that panics and that's what makes it so dangerous."

"What happens if someone panics?" She could feel the tension in the room rising. Rio paced back and forth with quick restless steps. She watched him from the safety of the bed. He seemed to flow across the floor, every bit as graceful and fluid as a jungle cat. And just as caged there in the house with her.

Rio paused beside his rifle, slid his hand over the barrel. "This is where it could get bad. Conner better be watching out for them," he said in a low tone, almost to himself.

"This Conner is doing your job, is that it? What exactly do you usually do?"

"I protect them. I can hit a bird on a wing in a high wind. So I lay up above them where I can sight the entire camp and I keep the bandits off of them. I provide cover fire and lay it down thick when they retreat. We scatter, each man assigned a job, taking the victims into the forest. Drake usually gets them to the helicopter while the rest of the team goes in every direction. I draw the bandits after me. I provide heavy fire and keep them busy and following me until I hear from each team member they are safe and we can stand down."

"The bandits chase you through the forest." He grinned at her, a small, mischievous little boy grin. "Several forests. There aren't any such things as borders or rivers or places we can't go. We do have to be a little careful in their territory. They're like rats, they go underground in their maze of tunnels in the fields. That's why we lead them into the forest. We scatter, the men change form and I'm the bandit's only hope of retribution."

She was furious all over again at the elders. So much so that she balled the pillow into her hand and threw it against the wall in a small fit of temper. "They take advantage of you, Rio. You're risking your life to help them get away."

"Sestrilla, it isn't like that. The others risk their lives going into the camp while I'm safe a mile away. We all take risks. We're at risk when the poachers enter our territory and try to kill the endangered animals. It's what we do, who we are. I want to do what I do."

"And the elders sit back and count the money you all bring them. I'll bet there's no risk at all to them. They just send you out, filling your head full of good deeds and necessity and count themselves lucky you're willing to risk your life for the cause."

"You're really angry." She was. He could see her body was trembling. More than that, she was close again. He could feel the sudden tension, the wild power in the room, caged but seeking freedom. She exuded a strong sensual pull.

"I detest people like that. They make the rules for everyone else and then sit back nice and safe calling the shots, making life-and-death decisions for people and reaping the monetary rewards."

She wasn't talking about the elders in his village. Rio remained silent, waiting to see if she would continue, but she pushed off the bed and went to the door, flinging it open to stare outside at the beckoning forest.

All the talk of the mythical Han Vol Dan, of her mother running free, made her yearn for the same freedom. Just for a few minutes to be something else, something different, with more control, more freedom. The ability to run along the branches of the tree. She held up her arms to embrace the idea. Deep within her she felt the stirring of power. Something untamed. Wild. Something desiring to be free. Fire raced through her bloodstream and something alive moved beneath her skin. Her fingers curved. Her face ached. Bones cracked and snapped.

"No!" Rio said it sharply, caught her shoulder and jerked her away from the door, back into the safety of his house. He wrapped his arm around her waist as if that would anchor her to him. "What did you think you were doing?"

"I don't know." She didn't look at him. She could only look at the temptation of the trees, the swaying foliage and thick canopy. Even the rain seemed to call her with its steady rhythm. "What am I doing, Rio?"

"Your leg isn't healed enough for that. It would never survive the change without further injury. You can't give in to it yet."

"Is it possible to stop? If it's in me, won't it come out as it does with you?" She was outwardly calm, but inside a mixture of excitement and fear were beginning to blend. She scented the wind and understood the messages it carried. She heard the notes overhead in the canopy and knew the song. She saw small lizards, insects, a preying mantis, hidden among the leaves of the trees as if they stood out in bright images.

The radio in Rio's hand crackled. A burst of static followed. "We're in. We're in." The voice was a mere whisper.

Rachael knew the radio was important. She could hear the tension in the voice. She could feel it in Rio, but the wildness in her was blossoming, spreading like a savage heat through her body. With it came sight as she'd never known it. Thermal images rippled in reds and yellows as she stared out into the darkness. Night had fallen completely and the ghostly mist once more shrouded the canopy. White tails drifted in and out of the trees. They looked like white lace. She inhaled sharply and drew the night into her lungs.

"Damn it, Rachael, I'm closing the door." Rio bent down to peer at her face. "Your eyes are changing, your pupils dilating. You have to fight it."

Rachael blinked up at him. Rio sounded urgent, worried. She smiled at him to reassure him she wasn't afraid. Well, maybe a little, but it was a good kind of fear. She wanted to reach for that other side of herself. She felt it strong now, purposeful, growing inside of her. She could shake off the anguish and pain and feel the sheer joy of living free. No responsibilities. No ties. There would be nothing but being alive to the sounds and scents of nature.

The temptation was so strong she pushed away from Rio, back toward the door. Rio's hands nearly crushed her shoulders. "Rachael, look at me." He dragged her into his arms, held her tightly against his chest. He could feel the wildness rising in her, see it as she looked at him with eyes no longer entirely human. "Fight it. Stay with me, now. You can't risk the change with your leg in such bad shape. Not the first time."

He kissed her. It was the only thing he could think to do when she was slipping away from him. When she looked so alluring, a temptress of the rain forest. The moment his mouth fastened onto hers, she circled his neck with her arms, pressed her body into his so that they simply melted together. In the heat of the forest her skin felt like hot velvet, sliding and rubbing against his so that the friction brought its own heat and excitement. His fingers tunneled in her hair, fisted there to hold her to him while he kissed her voraciously. Ravenously. Forgetting everything but the feel and taste of her.

Rachael felt she'd gone from one dream to another. The wildness subsided into her to be replaced by another kind. Untamed, unbridled passion welled up and spilled over for this one man. The only man. She had thought to let him go. She thought to protect him and leave him behind. It would never happen. He was as much a part of her as her own head was. When they were together there was magic, laughter-love. It was a silly, simplistic ideal, but it worked with Rio.

Rachael lifted her head to look at him, to take in his face, feature by feature. Tears swam in her eyes and she had to blink them away. "You're so beautiful, Rio." Her throat ached and her eyes burned with love welling up like a fountain.

"You always tell me I'm beautiful. Men aren't supposed to be beautiful."

"Maybe you aren't supposed to be, but you are. I've never been around a man like you before." Her fingertips traced the lines in his face, smoothed over his mouth. She looked into his eyes, and smiled. "It isn't just your body that's so perfect, Rio, you're such a good man."

How could a woman tear a man up with a few simple words? Maybe it was the honesty in her expression, the love in her eyes. "Rachael." Her name came out in a husky whisper. He couldn't control his own voice.

The radio crackled to life. The sound of gunfire could be heard in short bursts. Someone screamed. Pandemonium rang out. "Joshua's hit. Conner's trying to cover Drake and the vies. Damn it. Damn it." More static.

Rachael was watching Rio's face carefully. His expression disappeared and he wore a grim mask. "How far away are they? How many miles away?"

He looked down at her, blinked, kissed her mouth hard and turned to catch up his rifle. Rachael handed him the two knives lying side by side on the counter.

"Rachael." He hesitated at the door, radio in hand.

"Just go. Hurry. It's what you do. I'll be fine here with Fritz."

Rio turned and was gone. She didn't hear him on the verandah. She didn't hear anything at all. He was as silent in human form as he was in the form of a cat. Rachael limped over to the small counter. Fritz stuck his head out from under the bed to watch her. She smiled at the little leopard. "I may as well see how all this works."

Rio could hear Rachael murmuring softly to the cat. He shrugged into the harnesses and positioned the weapons for easy access before leaping to the next tree branch. He used creeper vines to swing to some of the closer branches, and hit the forest floor running. He ran through streams and small creek beds, pulled himself up the embankments using the vines and once more took to the trees.

"Coming in from the south," he reported into the radio.

"Go for Joshua, he's running hurt, leaving a trail. Conner's guarding the vies. Team is spreading out to leave tracks." Drake's voice came in a stream of static and heavy breathing.

"I'll intercept. Who's on Josh?"

"He's on his own. Hurry, Rio."

"Tell him to come to me. I'll meet him."

They kept the transmissions brief and spoke in then-own dialect, which would be nearly impossible for anyone overhearing to translate. Only members of their species spoke the guttural mixture of tones and words. It was one of their greatest strengths when working.

Rio covered several miles in record time, using Drake's short bursts of static for direction. He had to get to Joshua before Tomas or one of his men did. Joshua was in trouble, wounded and on his own. The other team members were needed to bring out the many victims and get them to safety.

He heard the sound of a gunshot echoing through the trees. White mist shrouded the canopy as he flung himself through the branches. He was forced to slow down to cross the river, using a precarious route, two low-hanging branches and a creeper vine. He nearly lost his footing, leapt to the next tree, his hands shifting to claws to cling to the bark. The trunk was wide with a multitude of plants growing up it, covering the bark. The branches raised toward the sky, seeking light, but the heavy foliage from the taller trees around it blocked it from the precious source causing the tree's limbs to curl and the leaves to feather. He flattened himself against the trunk, hooked claws clinging precariously as two bandits consulted in loud whispers beneath him.

The two men were out of breath having run ahead of the melee in the hopes of setting up an ambush. They consulted in their native tongue, gesturing wildly, all the while staring back toward the sounds of gunfire.

Rio's breath hissed out slowly as he felt for the closest branch with his foot. He willed them not to look up. As high up as he was, the wind fingered his face, but below, on the forest floor, the air was completely still and sound carried easily. His toes managed to find footing and he eased down, keeping his claws hooked as an anchor as he gained more solid territory. When he was on the branch, he leaned against the trunk and slid his rifle into position, careful not to rustle the leaves. And then he froze, every muscle locked into a ready position as only his kind could do. Waiting. Watching. Marking his prey.

The bandits were oblivious to his presence. They separated, moving off the trail, one bandit crouched low in the leafy foliage of the shrubbery. Impatiently the man flicked a caterpillar from a leaf onto the faint trail. Rio didn't follow the path of the caterpillar. He never took his gaze from his prey. One hand slipped up to his neck to pull the long knife from its sheath. The rifle remained rock steady, the barrel aimed squarely on target, finger on the trigger. Rio pulled the knife free. Careful to keep the first man in sight, he followed the progress of the second, who had moved ahead and off the trail to climb into the low-hanging branches of a fruit tree. As he climbed, his boot scraped lichen from the trunk and his weight, as he pulled himself up, sent fruit tumbling to the ground.

The wind shifted slightly, playing through the leaves. The rain began again, a steady fall that had both bandits cursing as the drops soaked their clothing. Rio remained still, high in the branches above them. He caught the scent of fresh blood. He heard the whisper of clothing against a bush. That told him, more than anything else, that Joshua was badly injured. He would have shifted shape if he could and used the strength and speed of the leopard to get him home. Instead, he was dragging himself through the forest, using the easiest and most open trails.

Rio didn't wait to see Joshua's approach. He kept his eyes on the two bandits hiding in ambush. The one below him put down his rifle twice. Tied his boot. Fidgeted. The one in the tree held his gun and watched the trail. Rio kept his rifle aimed at the bandit in the tree. The moment he saw the man raise the gun to his shoulder, he fired.

Rio didn't wait to see the results of his marksmanship; he threw the knife at the man below him. The gurgling sound was ugly, but it told him what he needed to know as he changed position, leaping to another branch and sighting the first bandit a second time.

"He's down," Joshua said. He leaned against a tree trunk tiredly. Blood soaked his right side. "Thanks, Rio. You're a welcome sight. They would have killed me. I don't have much fight left in me." He slid down the tree and sank to the forest floor, his legs going out from under him.

Rio dropped to the ground and inspected the two bandits before going to Joshua. The man had lost too much blood. "You should have put a field bandage on this."

"I tried. No time. They were everywhere. We pulled everyone out that was there. One of the men had gone missing and no one knows what happened to him. The team scattered, each taking a vie, and Conner had to cover them." He looked up at Rio. "Drake took a hit. I don't know how bad."

Rio stiffened, forced himself to be gentle as he worked quickly on the wound. "He sent me to you."

"I know, I heard on the radio. That's like him. Three reported in clear. You had your radio off, I tried to let you know." Joshua began to slump to one side.

"Damn it, Josh, don't you die on me. I'll be pissed off if you do." Rio swore under his breath as he quickly worked on the wound to stem the flow of blood. The entrance hole was small and neat but the exit was a mangled, bloody mess.

The wind tapped him on the shoulder, brought him the scent of the hunters. A pack of them, out for blood, hot on Joshua's trail. They'd be furious when they found then-dead lying in the midst of the shrubs.

"Josh, I have to take you up into the trees. I have no choice. I don't want to give you morphine, you're already in shock,"

"Do what you have to do," Joshua muttered. His lids fluttered, but he was unable to find the energy to open his eyes. "If you have to leave me, Rio, give me a gun. I don't want Tomas to get his hands on me."

"Shut up," Rio said rudely. He retrieved his knife, cleaning the blade in the leaves before returning it to its sheath. "Let's go, the hounds are getting close."

Joshua made no sound as Rio slung him over his shoulder in a dead man's carry. Rio hoped he'd lost consciousness. The steel muscles running beneath his skin would be needed, the enormous strength of his kind. He went up the tree, higher than he'd like but where there was more cover. He wouldn't have the necessary speed for traveling along the branches carrying Joshua's weight, so he'd need stealth and cover.

The continual rain added to the complications, making the branches slick. Several tunes he disturbed birds and gliding lemurs. Squirrels scolded him and a thick snake uncoiled when he accidentally gripped it for an anchor as he made his way along the branch highway with Joshua.

He was nearing the river when, without warning, the birds took to the sky. Joshua stirred, but Rio's soft command stopped him from moving. Rio cached Joshua in the crotch of a thick branch, much like a leopard might with his dinner. It was the only tree with enough foliage to hide them. He had hoped to be on the other side of the river before the bandits caught up with them. His pulley and sling was stashed and would be useful, but he'd have to leave Joshua to set it up. He checked to make certain no blood dripped to give away their position. The roar of the river drowned most of the noise, but couldn't take away the other signs of approach. "Tomas and his crew are coming, Josh. You'll have to be quiet and stay right there, no moving."

Joshua nodded his understanding. "I think I can hold a gun."

Rio shook his head. "No need." He crouched down beside Joshua, felt for his pulse. The man needed medical attention as quickly as possible. Rain-soaked, clothes clung to their bodies, boots rubbed blisters into skin. The conditions were miserable, but Rio had been in worse. "We'll get you home," he assured Joshua.

Rio didn't waste time hesitating. leaving the rifle behind, he went through the trees as quickly as he could, rushing to beat the arrival of the bandits. He dropped into the open onto a low-hanging branch and dove into the river. His arms cut strong, clean strokes, taking him across the river even as the current pulled him downstream. On the other side, he dragged himself up the embankment, rolled beneath a tangle of buttress roots and caught up the pack stashed in the hole in the trunk.

The bandits had broken out of the forest on the other side. They spread out, examining the ground for tracks. One was too close to the tree where he had cached Joshua. Josh was barely conscious and one wrong move would instantly bring him to the bandits' attention. Rio slowly and carefully pulled the rifle from the cover of the trunk and laid it over a root to steady his hand. He was in a bog and leeches would be swarming to his body heat if he didn't move immediately.

He squeezed off three shots in rapid succession, looking to wound his targets rather than kill them. Tomas would be forced to carry his men to safety rather than keep up the chase. Rio scooted backward on his belly, seeking the heavier cover of brush, trying to keep larger trees between him and the river.

The bandits returned fire, a rapid burst of bullets that chewed the bark from the trees and spit leaves and needles close to him. He stayed very still, not giving away his position as he marked new targets.

Tomas was no fool. He knew whom he faced. He'd run up against Rio's marksmanship many times and he didn't want to lose any more men. He signaled them back into the timberline. They melted away, carrying their wounded. Several discharged their guns in a last show of anger, but they moved off rather than try to cross the river in the open to track him. They might try it further upriver, hut by that time, Rio hoped to have Joshua deep inside the forest and in the hands of his people.

Worried that they may have left a sniper behind, Rio took his time coming out of the bog. He felt the sting of a couple of leeches as he crawled into deeper forest. It took several minutes to remove the creatures with his knife. As he retrieved the pulley and sling from his pack and rose, a bullet whistled by his head. Rio threw himself to one side, eyes examining the surrounding area. He thought he'd been well hidden, but his enemy had guessed where he would go to escape the leech-infested ground.

The bullet had missed him by inches, but he had more of a problem than a few leeches. He had to hunt. The bandit would be patient, lie in wait for him, knowing he would have to move soon. The river separated them and Joshua was cached up in a tree, wounded and in dire need of medical attention.

In the shelter of several thick trees, Rio shed his clothes, folding them neatly and setting the pile on a tree branch along with his boots. He shifted into his other form, embracing the power within him. The brute strength. The perfect hunting machine. Bold and clever, highly intelligent and cunning, the leopard began his stalk. Staying in the shadows of the trees, the large cat angled downstream, padding swiftly through the vegetation. The leopard scented blood and gunpowder as it leapt onto the low-hanging branches of a tree at the edge of the river. The cat snarled as the sniper fired repeatedly, sweeping the area where Rio had been.

The leopard plunged into fast-moving water, using powerful muscles to swim across to the other side. The cat climbed up the embankment, slinking across the open area in small stop-and-start bursts, going to ground and freezing behind the cover of the shrubbery. He gained yards, then feet, until he was a short distance from the bandit.

The man hurried quickly through the trees, intent on the other side of the river. He never saw the leopard crouched only feet from him. He never saw the rush, only felt the hit, hard like a freight train, driving him backward with powerful legs and muscles. He was hit so hard he never felt the crushing weight of the jaws that ended his life.

Rio fought the wild nature of the beast, pulled back from the heady scent of the kill and shifted shape quickly. He still had to get Joshua across the water. It would take too much time to set up the pulley and sling. He hurried back to the man, grateful to find him still alive.

"We're going into the river, Josh; I'm taking you to the village."

"You don't have to do that, Rio. Don't put yourself in that position."

Rio hoisted him onto his shoulder. "I don't give a damn what they think about me, Josh. You need help as quickly as possible."

"Did you lose your clothes?"

Rio grinned, a show of teeth. "I left them on the other side of the river in a tree."

"You've always been crazy, Rio."

Rio heard the utter weariness in the voice. Joshua hung like a dead weight, not even attempting to hold on. Worried, Rio plunged into the river; using every bit of his strength to fight the current to get them both to the other side. Then he began to jog.

It was a hellish, nightmare journey. Joshua's body slammed against Rio's. Brush tore at his skin. The rain soaked them both as the miles passed. Rio began to tire, his legs rubbery, his lungs burning for air. His feet, although tough and used to the travel, were torn and bloody. It took several hours and he stopped three times to rest, give Joshua water and tighten the pressure bandages over the wounds. Rio staggered into the village, tired and hot and soaked from the rain just before dawn. No one came out of their houses, although they knew he was there. Joshua's blood soaked Rio's skin where the man was pressed tight against him. The rain continued, a steady cascading fall that created a haze between Rio and the houses. He started toward the house of their only medic. Movement caught his attention. The elders came onto their verandahs, watching him through the downpour.

Rio stood for a moment, swaying with weariness, feeling anger wash over him. Shame. He was twenty-two again and standing before the council with his mother's blood and the blood of her murderer on his hands. He lifted his head and set his jaw. They would never accept him. Never want the taint of his life to touch theirs. He could protect their people, give them his share of the money, but he would always have blood on his hands and they would never forgive him. His mouth hardened and he squared his shoulders. His eyes were fiercely proud, his jaw strong and stubborn. It didn't matter if he wasn't welcome in their village. He didn't want to be there. He refused to believe that he could miss the interaction with others of his kind.

Inside the houses the whispers would start. It always did if he had to make the journey and intrude on their space. Each time he was certain it would be different, better-that they would accept him. But their faces would be hard, or averted or they simply looked past him as if he didn't exist. He forced strength into his tired body and carried Joshua straight to the house of the medic. They would never allow him entrance, nor would they speak to him. Even if they thought the blood on his body belonged to him, they wouldn't ask questions or attempt to help. He was dead to them.

Rio deliberately went up the stairs to the verandah and placed Joshua's body onto the chair there. As he turned to leave, Joshua caught his arm. His grip was feeble but he hung on. Rio turned back, bent down to him. "You're home now, you're safe."

"Thanks, Rio. Thanks for what you did."

Rio gripped the hand for a moment, covering the gesture with his body so Joshua wouldn't get reprimanded in front of the council. "Good fortune, Josh."

He turned, ramrod straight, walked down the steps and paused to allow his gaze to sweep with contempt, with arrogance through the village. To take in the familiar setting. Something wrenched at his heart, something deep and terrible. His temper was a sharp thorn, sticking in his gut and burning there. Resolutely he turned his back on them all and walked into the forest where he belonged. For a moment everything blurred around him. He thought it was the rain, but when he blinked, his vision cleared and his eyes burned. Rio forced the air through his lungs and told himself he was alive and on his way back to Rachael and that was all that mattered.