Wild Fire (35 page)

Her eyes met his. “Did Conner get an infection when I raked him with my claws?” Reminding him. Angry with him. He was team leader and it was his job to keep them all in line, even grieving leopards, but she was still angry with him.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, accepting her anger. “Yes he did, in spite of the antibiotics. But they saved his life, and they’ll do the same for you.”

She pressed her lips together. He’d gotten an infection. She hadn’t been there for him. And if Rio was worried about some little scratches on her arm, what about Jeremiah and Conner? Both were covered in bites, claws marks and punctures. She’d caught a glimpse of Conner’s body before he’d leapt over the backseat, and he’d looked torn up to her.

“Isabeau! Are you paying attention to me? This is serious.”

She looked at him without really seeing him, but forced herself to nod. She could hear Elijah breathing for Jeremiah, slow and steady, but knew he was tiring.

“Get the IV to me,” Conner said. “I need a vein. We can’t take a chance of him crashing and losing his veins.”

Rio turned his attention to the men in the backseat, passing Conner everything he needed from the medical kit. Marcos patted her leg. “Just breathe. You’re in shock.”

She had considered that. She’d felt a little this way when she’d realized Conner had seduced her to get close to her father—that he wasn’t the man he’d pretended to be. Now, of course, she knew he was
exactly
that man. He might have changed his name, but he’d been dangerous and intense and wholly committed to what he was doing. He had the same sense of humor and the same dominant nature. He was leopard and all the traits that she’d fallen in love with were still there.

She looked down at her arm. He would suffer because of this. Small scratches, really. He’d already been on his way to controlling his cat. But her cat . . . She sighed. She’d failed at controlling her.
Maybe I’ll never let you out.
But it was a false warning and both of them knew it. She wanted her leopard. She was ready to embrace her.

Rio turned back to her once Conner had the IV in Jeremiah. He came into her view, holding a syringe. “I need to shoot this in your butt.”

That
got her attention. She glared at him. “Well, choose a different location. I can assure you, it isn’t going to happen.”
A little backup would be helpful, kitty cat. I’m not dropping my drawers in front of all these men. I don’t care about their lack of modesty. Sheesh. What good are you if you don’t help a girl out when she needs it. Look badass or something.

“Don’t be a baby. We all have to have shots in the ass.”

She leveled a cool stare at him. “Not me. You try it and you’ll lose your eye.”

Felipe snorted. Marcos smiled. Even Leonardo covered a grin.

“We can do it the easy way or the hard way. I’ll have Leonardo hold you down.”

Her eyebrow shot up. Her cat stirred.
Finally.
“You’re pissing off my cat,” she said with satisfaction. “I’m not good at keeping a leash on her yet.”

“I’ll give her the shot later,” Conner said.

His voice was so neutral Isabeau was certain that in spite of the life-and-death drama in the backseat, he and Elijah had exchanged a quick smile. She didn’t care if all of them were laughing at her. She was drawing the line. Rio had put a gun in her hands, yelled at her—
yelled
—and forced her to calm a stalking leopard. She’d had enough of all the testosterone and male leopard domination. She gave Rio her most catlike glare, daring him to try it.

“Little she-cat,” Rio muttered under his breath. “You’re going to have to sit on her.”

“I’ll get it done,” Conner assured.

“He can try sitting on me,” Isabeau muttered in rebellion and felt her cat stretch languidly, unsheathing her claws.

Rio rolled his eyes. “Women,” he said under his breath.

They were all leopard, they couldn’t fail to hear him.

“Men,” she retaliated childishly, under her breath.

“Where are we stashing Teresa?” Marco asked. “I feel responsible for her.”

“Someplace they won’t find her and she won’t be able to contact anyone,” Rio said.

“Adan has a cousin,” Conner said, “not far from where we’re going. If I can’t persuade the doctor to help us, we can go to him.”

“How well do you know the doctor?” Rio asked.

“Fairly well. He and my mother were friends. They played chess. He actually taught me chess. He would never betray our people.”

“Switch places with me,” Elijah said. His voice was strained.

Isabeau could hear rustling in the backseat.

“Down this road, Felipe,” Conner called out. “The third farm. He practices out of his home now, he’s retired.”

The road was pitted with deep potholes. She could imagine a leopard choosing this spot to live. The forest encroached close to the houses, and there was a large distance between each farm, giving plenty of privacy. As they bounced past the first two farms, in both instances someone came out to the porch to mark their passing. Obviously more than curious, she wondered if they were leopard as well. She found herself being nervous all over again, or maybe her anxiety hadn’t had the chance to dissipate. It didn’t help when the men all checked weapons and Rio slipped her a small Glock.

“Take it,” he hissed. “Just in case.”

Discovering how these men had to live was a revelation. She knew it was a choice, and that she was making that choice with them, because her choice was always and forever Conner. She took the gun and checked it to make certain it was fully loaded and safe to carry.

Elijah took over again for Conner so Conner could pull on a pair of jeans before Rio opened the back of the SUV. They went onto the porch together. Conner rapped on the door and waited. He could hear movement: one, no, two people. One had a heavier tread than the other. The heavier tread approached the door and swung it open, no small telling crack, rather a wide welcome.

“What can I do . . .” The voice broke off, taking in Conner’s torn body. “Come in.”

“Doc, it’s Conner Vega. You remember me? I’ve got a kid in bad shape. Really bad shape. A leopard attack. We need your help.”

The doctor didn’t ask questions but motioned them to bring the boy inside.

“I’m sorry, Doc, but we’ll have to know who’s in the house,” Conner said.

“My wife, Mary,” the doctor answered without hesitation. “Bring him in, Conner. If your friend has to search, tell him to hurry if it’s as life threatening as you’re implying.”

Rio went into the house and Conner ran back to the SUV, waving for the others to bring Jeremiah. Isabeau dropped back to protect Elijah as he carried Jeremiah into the house. Leonardo stayed on the porch. Felipe and Marcos drove away, taking Teresa with them, presumably heading to Adan’s cousin, where they knew the tribesman would look after her.

“Puncture wounds to the throat. We’ve been breathing for him most of the time,” Conner explained as Elijah laid Jeremiah on the table in the doctor’s small office. They hung the bag of fluids on the hook and stepped back to give the doctor room.

“Mary!” the doctor called. “I need you. This is more important than your soap opera.”

She came in, a small woman with graying hair and laughing eyes. “I don’t watch soap operas, you old coot, and you know it.” She smacked him with a rolled- up newspaper as she went past him straight to the sink to wash her hands and don gloves.

“Get out, Conner. But don’t go too far. You’re next and then the young lady,” the doctor ordered gruffly. “And don’t pace like you used to. Sit down before you fall down. There’s hot coffee in the kitchen.”

Mary glanced over her shoulder. “Fresh bread under the tea towel.” She bent over Jeremiah.

Conner watched the two working so smoothly together, barely speaking, handing instruments back and forth with the doctor grunting occasionally and shaking his head.

Isabeau tangled her fingers with his and looked up into his face. She was exhausted and worried. He tightened his hand around hers and pulled her with him out of the room. Elijah followed reluctantly.

“He’s good?” he asked.

Conner nodded. “All the leopards came to him. He might be retired by now, but he knows his stuff. He won’t let him die if he can possibly save him. His name is Abel Winters. Dr. Abel Winters. He was in our village for a while, but left before my mother and I did. Of course he was very young and probably had gone off to school. I didn’t really remember him, when I was that young, but my mother did. She knew everyone in our village.”

He looked around until he found a towel to soak so he could try to clean some of the blood off before he sat down. “When we moved to the cabin, my mother would take me to him for the normal broken bones. I shifted fairly early and used to try leaping from the canopy and trying to shift on my way down. I broke a fair amount of bones that way.”

Elijah laughed. “I’ll bet you did.”

The tension eased a little. Isabeau took the towel from Conner and he bent over the sink, holding on to the edge as she tried to wipe the worst of the blood away.

“Damn, that hurts like hell. I’m going to find a shower.”

She wanted to go with him, but stayed in the kitchen with Elijah, feeling awkward and out of place.

“You did well, Isabeau,” Elijah offered, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“I was scared.” She didn’t look at him, but out the window. “Really scared.”

“We all were. I knew I was running a gauntlet, trying to get to Jeremiah, and I expected the sniper to shoot me at any moment. I imagine you expected the same thing.”

She shook her head. “No, I expected him to shoot Conner. He had the same problem I did. He didn’t want to hit his friend. I didn’t want to hit Conner.” She wiped back the tendrils of hair spilling around her face.

“What does ‘marking’ mean, Elijah?”

He frowned. “In what context?”

She avoided his gaze again, staring uneasily at the floor. “Like the marks I accidentally put on Conner’s face. What does that mean in the leopard world?”

He shrugged. “He’s your mate, so it’s no big deal. You put your mark on him. More than skin deep. You have a certain chemical in your claws. You can transfer that chemical into a man’s body. You did that when you raked Conner. You didn’t know what you were doing, but your cat did. She made certain he would want her. Usually a female won’t do that unless she’s in the throes of the Han Vol Dan. I won’t say it never happens, as evidence by your cat marking Conner, but that’s probably the biggest danger during the emergence.”

“So what happens if she marks someone
not
her mate?”

Elijah straightened slowly, the silence stretching painfully until she was forced to meet his eyes. “Did that happen, Isabeau?”

“Did what happen?” Conner asked, striding into the room, toweling his hair dry. His jeans rode low on his hips, the deep lacerations, bite marks and torn flesh very evident.

She bit her lip hard. She had a very bad feeling that Elijah was going to reveal something she didn’t want to know.

“Isabeau wants to know what would happen if she marked someone other than her mate.”

There was that silence again, stretching until her nerves were raw.

“Isabeau?” Conner asked. “Did that happen?”

She avoided the question. “I found a dead body in the garden. I think Philip Sobre is a serial killer.” To keep from looking at either of them, she went to the other side of the table and lifted the tea towel from the freshly baked loaf of bread.

Silence greeted her statement. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned around. Conner looked stunned. “You found what?”

She sliced the bread and put it on a plate. It was warm and smelled like heaven. “A body. Alberto told me about designing the garden and planting it. Apparently he’s a gardener, a very good one. He invited me to look around. He waited for me by the pond.”

“Get to the body, Isabeau,” Elijah said.

“And the marking another man,” Conner encouraged.

She took a dish of butter from Elijah and applied it to two slices, pushing the plates across to them before pouring coffee. “Does anyone take cream?”

Conner put the coffee cup down and went around the table to wrap an arm around her waist. “Stop what you’re doing and sit down. You need to tell us what happened.”

Isabeau let him pull out a chair and put her in it. The two men sat down with her. She shook her head. “I don’t know if Alberto knew the body was there and wanted me to find it. Maybe he wanted me to call the police on Sobre.”

“Are you certain it was a body?” Conner asked.

“Positive. I got close to it. Something—an animal—had been digging. There were insects and the smell of decomposition. I saw a finger. It was a body. I backed off and removed all evidence of my presence. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t trust Alberto or his guard. He didn’t give any indication that he was anything but a nice old man, but my cat didn’t like him touching me and I just had this feeling . . .” She pressed her hand to her stomach and looked helplessly at Conner.

He reached for her hand and brought the tips of her fingers to his mouth. “I’m sorry, honey, I should never have allowed you to get mixed up in this. If I’d been thinking, I would have stashed you somewhere safe until it was over.”

“I wouldn’t have gone. I started this, Conner, and I’m going to see it through. Someone has to stop them.”

Elijah took a sip of the coffee and made an appreciative sound. “She’s done great, Conner. She walked right up in the middle of a leopard fight and shot the son of a bitch. She found a dead body in a garden and didn’t scream her head off. She kept her cool and removed all evidence of being there.”

Elijah’s assessment of the situation steadied her. She flashed him a quick smile. “I was leaving and Ottila showed up. He cut off my escape. We were in deep brush and I was pretty sure Jeremiah didn’t have a good shot at him. What I didn’t know until later is that the two rogues had assumed you’d put a shooter in the canopy, and Ottila was the bait to draw Jeremiah out while Suma did the hunting.”

Conner covered her hand again to still her fingers as they tapped nervously on the tabletop. “No one could have known, Isabeau.”