Wild Fire Page 15

Her face went pale, her eyes wide, just like when he’d shown her his claws. “The letter. Adan wrote a letter to the director of the interior of Indian affairs, detailing what had happened and asking for aid. When we didn’t hear anything back, he sent word to some of his old friends, men he’d trained in survival. The official word came back that no one could risk the political fallout it would cause, bringing in a Special Forces team against Cortez without permission from this government. That’s when I told him about you.”

“Did he mention you? As a witness?” His fingers involuntarily tightened around hers until she let out a small gasp. He made an effort to relax. “I need to know if they’ve seen you. Did anyone know you were there when Cortez’s men murdered some of the Indians?”

“Adan and his wife. No one else saw me.”

“Did you see the letter? Did it mention you?” He hissed the words through clenched teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His leopard was raging now, his mate in danger. Fire was something used by outsiders. And any outsiders coming this far into the rain forest had a purpose. The cabin was only a few miles into the interior, but nearly impossible to find unless one knew where it was, and Adan had assured them all this meeting place was secure.

He felt the shudder of fear that rippled through her body, and he made an effort to push his cat down enough to maintain complete control. “We’re going to make a run into the trees. When we come onto the porch, leap over the edge.”

Her gasp was audible. “This cabin sits on stilts. We’re a story up.”

“You’re leopard. Trust her. She’ll land on her feet. You must have noticed extraordinary skills by this time.”

“But I’m not . . .”

He turned his head, his golden eyes glowing yellow-green—a cat’s eyes—focused and unblinking. She trailed off and nodded her head.

“If you’re too afraid, I can carry you, but I won’t be able to shield you as well.”

The thought of him carrying her in his arms, held close against his body frightened her almost more than the guns did. She shook her head. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll do it,” he corrected, his voice gentling. “Jump over the rail on the left side. I’ll be right behind you. Start running for the forest and don’t look back. You’ve got about twenty feet to make it into the tree line. Keep running once you get there. Twenty feet is a long way, but if you let your cat lose . . .”

“I don’t know how.”

At least she wasn’t arguing with him about being leopard. That was a start. “You’ll feel her, muscles like steel, flowing like water, beneath your skin. She’ll rise because she senses your fear. Your instinct will be to fight her, but she won’t emerge, you’re not ready yet. Let her come close. You’ll run faster, take longer leaps and you’ll be able to go up into the canopy.”

His eyes held hers, willing her to believe him. She swallowed hard, but nodded her head.

“A leopard is tremendously strong. You have that, Isabeau. She won’t swallow you, but for a few moments as she’s rising, you’ll feel that way. Don’t panic. I’ll be right behind you and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Isabeau didn’t know why she believed him after everything that had happened between them, but she couldn’t help responding to his voice. The idea of a leopard living in her was absolutely preposterous, but she’d seen her own hand shift into a claw, felt the stiletto-like tips raking across his face. She woke up often, her heart hammering in panic, a scream of protest echoing through her room, looking to see if there was blood on her hands. His blood.

“You ready?”

She took a breath and nodded. Now she could smell smoke too. A series of shots rang out in the distance. She flinched, her stomach lurching. She’d seen what automatic weapons had done to the Indian village, but she didn’t protest. She knew the thin walls of the cabin weren’t going to protect her. They had a chance in the forest.

“No hesitation. We don’t know how close they are until I’m out there. Once you go through the door, you have to commit, Isabeau. Straight to the rail and over it.” There was a command in his voice, one that might normally have put her back up, but she found solace in it. He was the kind of man who survived this kind of attack. The safest place in the rain forest was right at his side.

“No hesitation,” she agreed, and steeled herself.

He burst through the door, rushing in front of her, shielding her body right up to the rail. Isabeau refused to look down. She leapt and was astonished when she landed adeptly with both feet onto the rail and then she was sailing over it. She was aware of Conner right beside her, keeping his larger frame between her and the narrow path leading to the small clearing. There was a kind of singing in her veins, as if adrenaline had found a symphony and played the crashing notes as it rushed through her body. Strangely, there was a rush in her body, like the flow of the wind, the sound of the trees. She landed in a crouch, utterly astonished.

The buzz of a bee was loud in her ear. As if at a distance, she heard Conner shout, his hand caught hers and yanked her into motion. She didn’t have time to analyze the shocking way her body reacted, muscles flowing like water. He pulled and she felt the coil of her body, the leap that covered more than half the distance to the tree line. A second leap and she was inside the cover of the broad leaves, running along a narrow rodent path.

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