Wild Fire (7 page)

She was confused by her own feelings. She was intelligent enough to recognize that her father had not been innocent and had placed himself in harm’s way. She’d researched his business connections and had discovered for herself just how dirty he’d been. That didn’t stop her from loving him or regretting his death. She didn’t really blame Conner for that. But he’d used her to get to her father, making her an unwitting accomplice in his downfall. He’d seduced her over and over. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d done things that had seemed so completely right at the time, but after—when she knew he didn’t really love her—she’d been ashamed.

She was still ashamed. She could barely look at him without feeling his hands on her, his mouth, his body, hard and muscular moving over and in hers. She heard her own low moan of distress and ducked her head to avoid his eyes. Of course she’d researched the myths of leopard people and shape-shifters, but it seemed so outrageous it was easier to convince herself she’d been so traumatized, she’d remembered wrong.

He hadn’t loved her.
He
didn’t
love her. Not then. Not now. It mattered little that lust burned hot in his eyes, that possession was stamped deep whenever he looked at her. He was bred for danger, it was in his bones, in his eyes and she’d been mesmerized by him. She hated that she’d made it so easy for him. She’d never looked at another man, never been interested in having a relationship with one. She couldn’t believe it when he’d smiled at her from across a room and sauntered over to talk to her. She should have known.

“Don’t,” he commanded softly.

He’d always been able to read what she was thinking. He seemed so much older, so much more experienced. She’d felt safe with him. “By take care of it, you mean . . .” she prompted.

“You sent for us to get the children back, Isabeau. Don’t pretend to be shocked when violence is involved. If someone is hunting you or Adan, they came to do some damage. We need to know if Cortez has been warned that the Embera tribe is going to try to get the children back instead of cooperating with her.”

His voice was very low and held little expression, but it felt like the lash of a whip to her, making her feel not quite bright. She was a woman unafraid of going into the deepest interior of the rain forest to catalogue and research the medicinal purposes of plants. She’d made a name for herself and was driven to succeed in finding new uses for the plants. She had been independent and happy—until she’d met Conner Vega. He’d turned her world upside down.

Was it fair to blame him for the things her father had done? Or for shedding light on his illegal activities? Maybe not. But she would never understand how he could have used her, clearly an innocent, to bring down her own father. It was wrong. There had to be lines one didn’t cross. What kind of man did that? And what kind of woman still craved his touch when his character repelled her?

“I want you to slide down to the floor and sit against the wall. Stay low. We’ll sit here and talk while they see who followed the two of you.” He kept his hand on her arm to steady her as she obeyed him, bending her knees and sliding her back down the wall until her bottom touched the floor. “I know you’re scared, Isabeau, but nothing will happen to you.”

“Do you have a better plan for getting into Cortez’s compound?” Isabeau needed something to distract her. She wasn’t going to panic, she’d been in bad situations before and truthfully—how far did she trust him? If he could build the illusion of being in love strong enough to fool her, then he could do the same with the danger. With Conner, she didn’t know what was truth or fiction.

He’d thrown her for a moment, that dangerous edge to him, more animal than man, deliberately showing her his ability to shift, to heighten her fears, put her in a vulnerable position, but she had resources. She was intelligent. She’d been in the rain forest hundreds of times, but she hadn’t counted on being separated from Adan.

Conner was so close to her that she felt the instant he stiffened. He went to his feet, muscles flowing easily so he appeared silent, deadly, a cat stalking prey. The breath left her lungs in a rush as she saw him cock his head to one side and sniff the air. “Isabeau, we’re getting out of here.” He reached down his hand to her. “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?” She tried to listen, but as far as she could tell, the rain forest sounded the same, although the scream of the monkeys and the cry of the birds seemed overly loud.

“I smell smoke.”

She let him pull her up. “Where’s Adan?”

“With Rio. He’ll be fine. Adan knows how to take care of himself in the forest. It’s you I’m worried about. Let’s get out of this trap.”

“I didn’t do this, Conner,” she said.

“You wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill yourself and Adan along with me,” he said, not looking at her. He pulled open the cabin door a few inches and peered out, his hand tightening around hers. “Someone followed you, probably not knowing you were meeting us. And that means it’s an assassination squad. Did they know you witnessed the attack on the tribe?”

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.

Her sight grew strange, as if she was seeing in bands of color, yet everything was totally clear. Her range of vision seemed enormous, as if she could see, without turning her head, a good two hundred and eighty degrees around her. Her vision was amazing to the front. Isabeau judged her ability to see at least one hundred and twenty degrees straight ahead. Her eyes didn’t blink and detected movement in the underbrush as she ran—small rodents and insects as well as the fluttering of wings overhead. The deeper into the forest they went, the darker it became, but she could see quite clearly.

Sounds were enhanced, as if someone had turned on a loudspeaker. Her own breath rushing through her lungs sounded like a locomotive. Her heart thundered in her ears, but she could also hear the rustle of movement in the underbrush and knew, as she ran, exactly where other animals were. She caught the scent of a man’s sweat and the arid smell of smoke. She could hear the crackle of flames and the screams of the monkeys and birds as they fled ahead of the blaze.

Her heart seemed to beat in rhythm with the forest itself, absorbing the frantic energy of the other creatures as she moved fast through the trees, deeper and deeper into the interior. She was acutely aware of Conner’s hand pressing on her back, urging her to move even faster. She heard the whistle of a bullet and then a
thunk
as it slammed into a broad tree trunk a few feet to their right.

“They’re firing blind,” Conner said. “Keep going.”

She wasn’t about to slow down. She should have been terrified, but she felt absolutely exhilarated instead, almost euphoric, aware of each movement in her body, every separate muscle working smoothly and efficiently to carry her over the uneven terrain. A large fallen tree lay in her path and she didn’t even slow down. Instead, she could feel the wonderful coiling of her body, the spring as she leapt over it, clearing the downed trunk by a good foot.

She smelled sweat off to her right just as Conner gripped her around the waist and tossed her to the ground, his body covering hers. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Stay still. Absolutely still no matter what happens and look away.”

She nodded her acceptance, although she didn’t want him to leave her there alone, but she knew he was going to take care of the threat moving toward them. For one heart-stopping moment she thought he brushed a kiss along the back of her head.

“I won’t be long.” His lips moved against her ear and she felt her heart leap. Her fingers curled into claws and dug into the spongy, vegetation-covered ground.

“Don’t get killed,” she hissed back and then closed her eyes, feeling as if she’d just betrayed her father. She could pretend to him and everyone else that she didn’t want him dead because she was afraid of being left alone in the rain forest, but she refused to lie to herself. She hadn’t shoved the knife into his chest because the thought of him gone from the world was devastating to her. And it made her hate herself all the more.

“I’m a cat,” he reminded softly and his voice had a roughened edge to it that slid over her skin like the lap of a cat’s rough tongue. “I’m hard to kill.”

He was gone, and even with her heightened hearing, she could barely follow his progress through the jungle of broad leaves. There was the soft slide of his body along the brush, no leaves crackling, only a whisper of movement as he crept closer to his prey. She turned her head slowly inch by inch, even though he’d told her not to look. Instinctively she knew it wasn’t about drawing attention, as a fixed stare could do, but that he didn’t want her to see death—and what it looked like.

Conner may have been in the form of a man but at that moment she knew he was all leopard, just without the form. She understood what he meant when he said to let her cat rise close to the surface. He looked like a large leopard, roped muscles sliding beneath his skin, his body moving in the freeze-frame stalk of a predator, head down, eyes focused on prey. He carefully positioned each foot, making certain he stepped in absolute silence as he crept toward his prey through the thick brush. When the man emerged just in front and to the left of him, halting to listen and look carefully around him, Conner was motionless, crouching low in a spring- loaded position, held frozen by the ropes of banded muscle power.