It was much more difficult righting his body, somersaulting in midair. His back legs crumbled when he hit the ground. She landed hard, the sound like a pumpkin smashing and spilling contents across the ground. He crawled to her, using the cover of the smoke. She was still alive, her eyes wide, her body unmoving. She gasped. Wheezed. Fought for air.

The leopard put his giant paw on her belly. She tried to move, but with a broken back it was impossible. The leopard’s hot breath fanned her face. She stared at death, the long canines, the fierce eyes lost in a sea of spots.

“Conner!” Rio’s voice called out of the smoke. “Move!”

Shots could be heard in the distance, coming from the direction Isabeau had taken the children. He saw sudden recognition in Imelda’s eyes. Not Ottila. Fury burned. Hatred. Then, as his head moved closer and he drew back his lips in a snarl, fear. He delivered the killing bite, severing her spine, not out of mercy—he felt none—but with the knowledge that evil often found a way to survive and he wouldn’t permit it, not this time.

The leopard took several experimental steps. His back leg dragged a bit, but he could walk. Pain crashed through him after the first few feet, the numbness wearing off.

“You need help?” Rio came up on his left side, his gun ready as they hurried through the swirling smoke toward the fence. His face was grim, eyes bloodshot, always moving, searching through the smoke for an enemy, but his hands were rock steady.

Conner shook his head, grateful he had a friend who watched his back. Blood coated his hindquarters and the pain in his back hip and leg was becoming unbearable.

Around them, it looked as if the world was on fire. Flames rolled and spun, reaching high, greedy for something to consume and finding it in the buildings and plants throughout the compound. Already, the tall fence surrounding the estate was on fire in several places. The smoke choked lungs, burned eyes and throats. The loud roar pounded through their ears, driving out nearly every other sound. The conflagration created its own wind, a fierce, hot breath that scorched anyone it touched.

Conner kept going, forcing the pain to the back of his mind, afraid for the children and Isabeau. He kept telling himself Elijah and the Santos brothers were with them. The fence loomed up in front of them, a fiery wall that seemed to surround the entire complex now. Bullets spit into the dirt near him and someone shouted hoarsely. Rio dropped to one knee and began firing.

Conner gathered himself and forced his cat to leap through the flames. Heat seared him, singeing whiskers and fur. For a moment the heat was so intense, he thought he was on fire. He landed on the other side and crouched, panting, his sides heaving as his leg gave way and he staggered and fell. Rio landed beside him, already reloading.

“You need medical attention. Get to the trees and let me take care of that,” Rio said. When the leopard shook its head, Rio’s mouth tightened. “That wasn’t a request.”

Conner snarled, showing teeth, but reluctantly followed his team leader’s order. Rio rarely put things as a command, but he ran the team when Drake wasn’t around—and Drake hadn’t been around in a long while.

They hurried away from the heat and roar of the fire. There were a few men running away from the flames, so they avoided them. The ones hunting the children and Isabeau were a different matter. The leopard sank down into the thick vegetation, while Rio withdrew his medical kit and found what he needed.

“I think the bullet’s still in there, Conner. I’m going to have to take it out.”

He injected the cat with painkiller to numb the area before feeling around to see where the bullet was lodged. Leopards could be unpredictable in the best of times, and digging around for a bullet was not something most would allow. Rio wouldn’t have tried it with just anyone. Conner was strong and held his cat in check through most difficult situations. And they had little time.

Rio could feel the leopard tremble as he probed the wound. Once he nearly had the slippery bit of metal with the tweezers, but the cat flinched. “Damn it. Hold still. The light’s no good here and I’m working blind.” Mostly the cat’s teeth were too close, making him nervous.

It took a few more minutes of digging before he managed to grasp the bullet enough to pull it out. The cat shuddered and hissed out a long protest, but resolutely kept its head turned away from him. Hastily, Rio cleaned up the wound site and injected him with antibiotics. “Don’t do anything crazy and that should hold until you can shift again. Let’s go.”

Conner tested the leg. With the painkiller, he could put more weight on it, but he was weak and a little disoriented. The two set out at a run. Rio slung his gun over his shoulder and tried to keep up with the wounded leopard. The men had set a fast pace with the children. Elijah was obviously carrying Mateo, his footprints were deeper than the others. They came across two bodies, both guards from Imelda’s compound, shot.

There were smears of blood after that, indicating someone had been injured. Deep inside the leopard, Conner’s heart pounded in fear for Isabeau.

“Not her,” Rio said. “Felipe or Leonardo I think.” He pointed to a broken stride. “Right here.”

Both inhaled deeply. “Definitely Felipe,” Rio said.

They took off running again. The sound of a gunshot reverberated through the forest. Beside the leopard, Rio suddenly jerked and went down on one knee. Blood splattered across the rotting vegetation as Rio fell facedown, sprawling out limply.

Conner used his powerful claws to grip a leg and pull the body into the deeper cover of the trees, sinking down beside his friend to gently roll him over. He was losing too much blood. Conner shifted, uncaring of the vicious pain slamming through his leg and hip as he crouched beside Rio, working fast to stop the blood.