Wild Fire Page 29

She didn’t want to notice that about Conner, how he protected her, because that small little voice in her head would begin dreaming, whispering that she mattered to him. He was a master manipulator, and she’d paid him to come. He hadn’t sought her out on his own. He hadn’t fallen to his knees and begged forgiveness. Even when he told her his cat wouldn’t accept anyone else, he had been matter-of-fact and unenthusiastic.

He skirted the dead body of the man he’d killed earlier, leading her into the darkness, padding ahead in silence. She couldn’t even hear him breathe, but she felt his presence—very solid—close to her. She felt like his shadow, attached, yet not, and the thought made her smile. Everything in her life was so mixed up, so upside down, yet she was more alive than she’d been in a year.

She’d spent a good portion of her time in the rain forest, and she’d learned to really respect it. One had to be careful all the time, much like divers in an ocean. Her beautiful surroundings could turn on her in a moment, yet being with Conner took that edge of fear away. She believed nothing could happen to her as long as she was close to him. He exuded absolute confidence, and it carried over to her.

Was it possible to learn to be like him? Could she learn his abilities? Have his power and strength? She wanted it to be true. She loved climbing the tree and making her way through the canopy. It felt like living in the clouds in spite of the fire and the fleeing wildlife. She’d felt the heartbeat of the rain forest through her cat, the joy and freedom of being so close to nature.

“Why weren’t they afraid of us? The animals. Didn’t we smell like predators to them? I can smell your cat when you’re close to me and you can smell mine.”

“Our people have always been guardians of the rain forest. Over the years, of course, our people have intermarried with humans and have gone to the cities, but the instinct to protect is in all of us and the animals respond to it.”

He reached back and took her hand, tucking her fingers into his back pocket. “Stay close to me. We’re coming up on the river. They’ll have an ambush set.”

Her heart jumped the moment his fingers brushed hers. It was worse holding on to his jean pocket. The heat of his skin seemed to surround her, envelope her, just put her in a cocoon of warmth. She could actually feel him moving, the ripple of his muscles, the fluid steps, more animal than man. She tried to feel her cat, to emulate the flow of his body, but she seemed that little bit out of sync, occasionally stumbling over the uneven ground now.

She’d always had good night vision, but her sight wasn’t like it had been earlier when her cat had been close. She knew the difference now, just as she knew she was fairly experienced in the rain forest, not like Adan, but she’d been superb with her cat close.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice was a bare thread of sound, projected—almost—into her mind rather than heard. She felt the vibration go through her brain like a heat wave. She curled her fingers around the edge of his pocket, an involuntary reaction, and instantly he halted and half turned to her, bending his head close, his palm cupping the side of her face, thumb brushing a reassuring stroke along her cheek.

“You aren’t afraid, are you? I won’t let anything happen to you, Isabeau. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I give you my word I’ll guard you with my life. There’s no need for fear. We’ve got friends close by. If it’s too difficult here on the ground, I can take you back up into the canopy and you can wait while I help them clear the way to safety.”

She shook her head. “I want to stay with you. I’m not afraid.”

“You’re shivering.”

Was she? She hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t because she was afraid of the men sent to kill them—or rather to kill Adan. Excitement. Anticipation. Even being close to Conner again. “Just nerves,” she said, simplifying without lying. “I don’t want to have to kill someone. I think I could if I was defending someone else, but I’m afraid I’d hesitate and get everyone killed.”

There was a part of her that wanted to jerk away from him and tell him to quit touching her, but another, more masochistic part craved each brush of his fingers, every intense, compelling look from his shattering gaze.

“I don’t want you having to do the things I do, Isabeau. There’s no need. I’ll teach you all the things you need to know to defend yourself and anyone you love, but when it comes down to it, you lose a little part of yourself every time you kill. It isn’t as bad in leopard form. Our cats are pure predators and that helps, which is why many of us choose that form when hunting.” He indicated the night.

She listened. At first she only heard her own heart pounding. The sound of air moving in and out of her lungs. She was acutely aware of Conner so close to her, his body heat warming her, his large frame protecting her. To her right she heard the soft brush of fur against something rough—a tree trunk she guessed. She inhaled and scented something wild. Her skin tingled as she recognized the scent of a leopard.

Conner stepped closer to her, his arm sliding around her to bring her tight against him. His lips pressed against her ear. “He’s hunting something close to us. Reach for the information. Even without your cat close, you can use its senses. You have a kind of radar. You must have known who was at your door sometimes before you opened it.”

She nodded.

“A cat’s whiskers are embedded deep in tissue and the nerve endings transmit information to the brain. You can use that information as a guidance system, sort of like feeling your way in the dark. You can read objects, where everything and everyone is in the forest, how close you are to it and what it is.” His fingertips slid over her face. “Like Braille. Right now, Elijah knows exactly where his prey is, his position and where he needs to strike to deliver a killing bite.”

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