Wild Fire Page 34

“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 mapped 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.

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