Wild Rain (21 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Wild Rain
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She listened to his voice. There was no note of self-pity. No plea for compassion. Rio stated a fact. He had committed a crime and he accepted the punishment that went along with it. She let out her breath slowly, struggling not to judge too quickly. It still didn’t make sense to her. “Are you going to tell me why you killed him?”

“Whatever my reasons are, they weren’t good enough to take the life of another. Revenge is wrong, Rachael. I know that. I was taught that. I knew it when I hunted him. I didn’t even give him the chance to draw a weapon so I could claim self-defense. It was an execution, pure and simple.”

“Is that what you were thinking when you killed him?” There was a silence. Rio’s thumb slid over the back of her hand. “No one ever asked me that. No, of course not. I didn’t look at it that way, but I did know the council would either decide to put me to death or banish me when I returned and told them what I’d done.”

Rachael shook her head, more confused than ever. “You hunted this man down, killed him and then returned to your people and confessed you’d done it?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t try to hide something like that.”

“Why didn’t you keep going, head for another country?”

“I’ve lived apart from the forest, apart from my people, I never want to do it again. I chose this life. It’s where I belong. I knew I would have to go before the council when I chose my path, yet I stayed on it. I couldn’t stop myself. I still cannot mourn his passing.”

“What did he do to you?”

“He killed my mother.” His voice roughened. He cleared his throat. “She was running, much like I do at night, and he stalked her and killed her. I heard the shot and I knew. I was some distance away, and by the time I reached her it was too late.” Abruptly he released her hand and was on his feet, pacing across the room to the kitchen as if movement was the only thing that could keep him from exploding. “I’m not making excuses, I knew better than to take his life.”

“For heaven’s sake, Rio, he killed your mother. You must have been crazy with grief.”

He turned around to face her, leaned one hip against the sink. “There’s more to the story, of course there always is. You’ve never asked me about my people. You’ve never once asked why our laws are different than the human laws.”

Rachael sat up slowly, pulled the edges of her shirt together and began awkwardly to button it. She suddenly felt vulnerable lying on his bed with barely any clothes and his scent permeating her body. “I am fairly certain Tama and Kim answer to the laws of their tribe. We’re all subject to whatever laws govern our country, but out here, I doubt the government knows exactly what goes on. The tribes probably deal with most of their own troubles.” She kept her voice very calm, her expression serene. It wouldn’t help either of them to show she was suddenly very afraid.

Rio moved. It was a small, subtle movement, but distinctly feline. A supple shifting of his body so that he seemed to flow like water, then become perfectly still. His eyes dilated wide, the color changing from vivid green to a yellow-green. At once his gaze was marblelike, glassy, an eerie, focused, unblinking stare. A reddish cast gave his eyes an evil, animalistic quality. He turned his head as if listening. “I can hear your heart beating too rapidly, Rachael. You can’t hide fear. There is a sound to it. A smell to it. It’s in every breath you take. Every beat of your heart.”

And it was killing him. He’d allowed her to get under his skin. He’d known all along he would have to tell her the truth. Rachael had been traumatized by something in her life. She’d seen and lived with violence and he suspected she had tried to escape. He had to tell her the truth, show her the truth—he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t. But his heart was being ripped out of his chest and the rage that was never far from the surface welled up to choke him.

It had taken him time to realize she made him laugh, made him cry, made him feel. She brought life to him.

Almost from the beginning she made him feel alive again. He couldn’t imagine going back to an empty house. He forced himself to tell her the truth, although it was terrifying. Rio had never been truly afraid in his life, yet now he stood to lose something he never thought to have. Fear fed the anger swirling in his belly so that he wanted to rage at her.

Rachael nodded, swallowed the tight knot of fear threatening to suffocate her. “That’s true, Rio. But you mistake what I’m afraid of. It isn’t you. It isn’t what you say. Do you think it’s all new to me? That I’m so shocked by your confession? I’m not afraid of you. You’ve had every opportunity to take advantage of me. To kill me, or rape me, or use me in some way. You could have easily taken me to the authorities for the reward money. I’m not afraid of you. Not Rio the man.”

He came closer, filling the room with dangerous power. It emanated from every pore. There was no whisper of sound when he walked toward her. He moved with the flowing grace of a large jungle animal. Ropes of muscle rippled beneath his skin. He leaned closer to her. She could hear the breath in his lungs, the low, threatening growl rumbling in his throat. Rachael refused to be intimidated, refused to look away. She stared at him with one eyebrow raised, daring him.

Muscles contorted, knotted, his large frame bent and he dropped to the floor on all fours, still watching her, never blinking, never once looking away, holding her gaze captured in the blazing intensity of his. She saw his skin lift as if something alive ran beneath it.

“And what if Rio isn’t a man?” His voice was distorted, rough. He coughed, a strange grunt she’d heard before.

A chill ran down her spine. She stared in horrified fascination as his body stretched and lengthened, as fur rippled over his skin, as his jaw lengthened into a muzzle and teeth erupted in his mouth. The leopard was black with whorls of darkened rosettes buried deep in the luxurious fur. It wasn’t the first time she found herself face-to-face with the beast.

Rachael recognized the fact that she was breathing far too fast. The leopard was inches from her, his yellow-green gaze holding hers. Waiting. There was a nobility, a dignity about the animal as he waited. Her hand shook as she reached out to touch the fur. The animal snarled, exposed the wicked canines, but she touched him. Connected to him. It was instinctive and the only thing she could think to do under the circumstances. “Fainting is out of the question,” she murmured softly. “I’ve tried it and it just doesn’t work for me. I’ve never figured out how other women manage it. If you were trying to shock me, believe me, you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.”

Even as she uttered the words, she wasn’t altogether certain they were the truth. There had been signs. She hadn’t wanted to believe them. It seemed too far-fetched. Surely scientists would have discovered them by now, yet he stood there, staring at her with his wild eyes, his hot breath in her face. He was unmistakably a leopard. A shape-shifter. The thing of myth and legend.

“Why do you want me to be afraid of you, Rio?” She bent her head toward his, ignoring his snarl of warning. She rubbed her face over the dark fur. “You’re the only person who ever looked at me for myself. You gave me acceptance even when I didn’t deserve it. What is so terrible about what you are? I know people far more terrible.” Tears burned behind her eyelids. It wasn’t as if she could stay with him. “I guess this answers the question why you run around naked in the forest. You like to go out at night as a leopard, don’t you?”

It was useless to hide from her in animal form. When he looked into her eyes there was no horror at his revelations. He could read sadness there. Rio shifted back to his human form and sat on the floor beside the bed. “I’m neither human nor animal, but a mixture of both. We have traits of both species and some of our own.”

“Can you assume another form?”

He shook his head. “We are both leopard and human at the same time and only take one form or the other. This is who I am, Rachael. I’m not ashamed of what I am. My people are few, but we play an important role here in the rain forest. We have honor and commitment, and our elders are wise in things beyond modern science. While it’s true we have to be careful to remain undiscovered for obvious reasons, we contribute to society in many ways.”

There was pride in his voice, but she could see wariness in his eyes. “Tell me what happened to your mother, Rio.” She could live with, be friends with and be the lover of a shape-shifter, but she could not live with a man who murdered people. She’d done that, and she would never do so again under any circumstances.

He raked his fingers through his hair, wreaking havoc so that his shaggy hair was more tousled then ever. Locks fell persistently over his forehead, drawing attention to the brilliance of his eyes. “I thought you’d run the minute you knew what I was.”

Her smile was slow and more sensual than she knew. It nearly stopped his heart. “Well, I might have, but I can’t exactly win any races at the moment.”

Her smile was contagious, even then, when she could rip the heart out of his chest and change his life forever. He found an answering smile tugging at his mouth. “I’ll admit I thought of that when I decided I’d better tell you. It stacked the odds just a bit in my favor.”

“Smart man.” Rachael stroked back the strands of hair falling across his forehead. “Tell me about it, Rio. Tell it to me the way it happened, not how other people saw it.”

Rio felt the familiar pain, the anguish rising the way it always did when he thought of that day. He rubbed his suddenly pounding temples. “She loved the night. We all do. It’s beautiful, the way the moon plays over the trees and the water. We’re so much more alive. All the cares of the day disappear when we take the form of the leopard. I suppose it’s a form of escape, running along the branches and playing in the river. Our people love the water and we’re all good swimmers. She went out alone that night because I was working on the house.”

“Where was your father?”

“He died years earlier. It was just the two of us. She was used to being alone. I’d been gone on and off for a few years getting an education, so neither of us gave it much thought. I heard the warning first, the animals, the wind. You’ve heard it, you know what I’m talking about. I knew immediately it was an intruder. Human—not one of our people. Few people come this far into the interior unless it’s a tribesman and I could feel from the animals it was someone different, someone dangerous to us.”

Rachael eased her leg onto the floor, needing to stretch out. Immediately Rio helped her, his hands gentle as he took her foot carefully from the bed. To Rachael’s astonishment, his hands were shaking. “Thank you, that feels better. I’m sorry, please keep going.”

Rio shrugged. “I raced after her, but it was too late. I heard the shot. Sound travels a great distance at night. When I reached her, she was dead and already skinned. He’d taken her pelt and left her like so much garbage on the ground.” He closed his eyes but the memory was there. Already the insects and carrion were moving in. He would never forget the sight as long as he lived. “We can’t take chances with the bodies. We burn them and scatter the remains over distances. I did what I had to do and all the while I could feel the black rage in me turning ice cold. I knew what I was going to do. I planned it carefully while I took care of her. I couldn’t bear to think about what I was doing, the burning of her body, so I planned out each step as I worked.”

“Rio, she was your mother, what did you expect to feel?” Rachael asked gently.

“Grief. Not madness. He didn’t kill a woman, he killed an animal. It’s acceptable in society. It isn’t legal, but it’s still acceptable. He didn’t deliberately kill a human being—and in a sense, he didn’t. We’re taught that mistakes can occur and we have to be prepared for them. Each time we take our alternate form, we are taking a chance by running free. Poachers often enter our realm, I knew that. I was taught that. So was my mother. She took the chance just as I do nearly every night. It was her decision and her risk. That’s what we’re taught by the elders, and they’re right. We aren’t supposed to look upon it as murder. We’re taught to view it as an accident.”

“I’m not certain that’s entirely possible, Rio. Admirable maybe, but not very likely when it comes to one’s family.”

He touched her mouth. That tempting, beautiful mouth so ready to defend him. There had been no one to defend him all those years ago. He’d been a hothead, rage riding him hard. Defiance his only weapon. “I don’t believe in an eye for an eye.” He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t even back then. I know my killing him didn’t accomplish anything. It didn’t bring her back. It didn’t make me feel better. It certainly changed my life, yet I still can’t bring myself to be sorry that he’s dead. Do I wish I hadn’t done it? Yes. Would I do it again? I don’t know. Probably. It was like a sickness inside of me, Rachael, a hole burning in my gut. I tracked him and found his hunting camp. Her pelt was hanging on the wall to dry. There was blood, her blood, on his clothes. I learned how to hate. I swear, I’d never even felt such an emotion before. He was drinking, celebrating. I didn’t even give him a chance. I didn’t say anything at all to him, I didn’t even tell him why.” He looked up to meet her eyes, wanting her to know the truth about what he was. What he’d done.

“I think I was afraid to tell him, afraid I’d see remorse or regret. I wanted him dead and I simply ripped out his throat. Her pelt was hanging on the wall behind him.”

Bile rose in his throat, just as it had all those years ago. He had been physically ill, over and over, yet he had dragged the pelt from the wall and burned it as he was taught before returning to the elders to tell them what he’d done.

“You condemn yourself for going after the man who killed your mother, yet you make your living pulling people out of dangerous situations, using your skills as a marksman to free them.”

“It isn’t the same thing as defending my life or the life of someone else, Rachael,” he said. “If I’m sent out to bring someone home, back to their family, I believe anyone in the scope of my rifle put themselves there by kidnapping and threatening the life of another. It isn’t the same thing at all.”

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