Rachael jammed her good hand into her mouth to keep from crying. Her leg burned and throbbed. It felt as if it might have burst open but she couldn’t move with Rio’s weight on top of her.

“Stay down,” he hissed. “I mean it, completely flat on the floor, Rachael. Don’t you move, not for any reason.” His hands were moving over her, inspecting her for damage. “You aren’t hit, are you? Tell me.” He was shaking with rage. It welled up like a funnel cloud, dark and twisted and ferocious. The bullets hadn’t been aimed at him, the marksman had gone after Rachael. There were no lights on in the house and the blanket was over the window. The flickering candle was the only light and it had been enough for the marksman to take his shot. It told Rio they were dealing with a professional.

“It’s just my leg, Rio.” Rachael did her best to be calm. Screaming wasn’t going to help the pain and Rio’s weight had her flattened like a pancake on the floor. “I can’t breathe very well like this.”

Fritz had been under the bed. With the bullets whining so close he emerged, snarling and spitting.

Rachael risked her skin by catching the cat to prevent it from exposing itself to the gunfire. The cat’s head spun around, saberlike teeth rushing toward her. Rio was quicker, pinning the animal and hissing a command. Fritz grew quiet and lay beside Rachael.

“Ungrateful wretch,” she said pleasantly.

Rio ignored her comment, sliding his hand over the bed until he found the gun. It was automatic to check the load. “The clip is full and one’s in the chamber.” He thrust the weapon into her hand. “Stay down and behind the bed.” He rolled over, found his jeans and dragged them on.

Rio propelled his body forward using his elbows, staying on his belly as he made his way across the room to his guns. Carefully he inched his hand up to drag the cache of weapons to him. Almost immediately bullets spit into the wall above him. He rolled over, strapping a knife to his leg. “I have to go out there, Rachael.” His next stop was the sink where the candle was. Any professional would know he would want to douse that small light. He used a water bottle from his pack on the floor, taking aim car efully and spraying the candle until the flame went out leaving behind a small trail of smoke.

Another spray of bullets peppered the wall and sink.

“I know. Is there another way out besides the door?”

“Yes, I have several. I’ll use the one toward the back, farthest from his line of vision. Don’t move around. He’s probably got night vision glasses and he knows the layout of the house.”

“How could he know that?”

Rio didn’t know the answer to her question. At the moment it didn’t matter. He scooted back to Rachael and laid one of his knives on the floor beside her fingertips. “You’re going to have to use that if he gets close to you.”

“Do you want me to shoot at him and distract him so you can get out without him seeing you?”

Rachael offered.

Her voice trembled and he could hear the note of pain she was tr ying so hard to hide from him. With his acute sense of smell he picked up the scent of blood. The crash to the floor had caused some damage to her leg and he knew it must hurt. He leaned into her, caught her chin and brought his mouth to hers. He put everything he had into that kiss. His anger and fear, but most of all his passion and hope. He didn’t want to admit to love, he barely knew her, but there was tenderness and something that tasted of love. “Don’t try to help me, Rachael. This is what I do and I’m better working alone. I want you safe, here on the floor when I get back. If he comes in, use the gun. Keep firing even if he goes down. And if he keeps coming and you run out of ammo, use the knife. Keep it low, in close to your body, and thrust upward to the soft parts of his body when he’s close.”

She kissed him back. “I appreciate Lesson 101 in weapons training. Come back to me, Rio. I’ll be very upset with you if you don’t.” In spite of the fact that she was terrified and trembling uncontrollably, she forced a smile. “I’ll be right here, on the floor, clutching the gun in my hand, so whistle to let me know it’s you coming through the door.”

He kissed her again. Slower. Thoroughly. Savoring the taste of her, appreciative that he had her. “May the fortunes be with you, Rachael.” He began to crawl, staying on his belly, rolling the last few feet.

The pantry wall seemed solid enough, but a small section, no more than a crawl space, low to the floor was removable. He pried the boards loose and slipped through, taking the time to replace the section of wall in case his enemy shifted form.

The night was warm. The rain had momentarily stopped, leaving the trees dripping and intensely green, even in the darkness. He slipped into the foliage, ignored a large python coiled around a thick branch only feet from his home, and moved quickly along the network of branches high above the forest floor. Often he was forced to allow the leopard form to emerge partially, so his feet could grip the slick wood and he could leap from branch to branch easily.

He knew the general direction of his enemy, but it was a big area. In human form he didn’t have quite as many receptors to allow him to locate the enemy precisely, but his leopard form was highly vulner able to the long-distance rifle. Rio was certain the intruder would be expecting the leopard. He had the advantage of knowing every branch, every tree. The animals were used to his presence and would never give away his position as they would that of the intruder. The wind didn’t betray him, carr ying the scent of his enemy to him, taking his scent and drawing it away.