She’d been the one to do this—to insist they go after Imelda Cortez. Nothing she’d seen tonight had made her change her mind—only strengthen her resolve—but she was unprepared for the level of immorality, the complete disregard for life, or even rights of other human beings. Imelda surrounded herself with despicable people. It was as though they recognized one another, gravitated toward each other in order to reinforce their own behavior.
She bit on her knuckles. She’d killed a man. Maybe Conner had finished him off, but she’d been the one to pull the trigger. She’d never thought, never imagined, in all of her dreams or nightmares, that she’d kill another living being. She’d watched the life go out of his eyes and it had sickened her, not thrilled her. Philip Sobre had all but come out and said he loved to torture and most likely kill his victims. For the thrill. She heard a sound, broken and lost, and realized it came from her own throat.
Rio leaned close to her with something in his hand. “This is going to hurt like hell.”
He didn’t wait, and the breath exploded out of her lungs as he pressed a cloth soaked in some fiery liquid to the streaks in her arm. He held it there while she focused on counting under her breath and struggling not to cry.
Marcos put a needle in Teresa’s arm and she moaned softly. He patted her. “You’ll be fine. You’re safe,” he reassured.
Isabeau wasn’t certain any of them would ever be safe again. Imelda seemed as if she were a bloated spider, spinning a web that encompassed everyone. All the party goers had been officials and high-ranking police officers and judges. They couldn’t fail to see people taking the servers to the upstairs rooms. Now they were afraid to even take Jeremiah to the hospital.
Rio removed the cloth and, ignoring her protest, held on to her arm to examine the lacerations. “They aren’t deep.” He said it loud enough for Conner to hear. “I’m going to use an antibacterial cream.” He said that to no one in particular, but when he began to apply the cream he forced Isabeau to look at him. “We have a poison in our claws, Isabeau. You can’t let this go. Be meticulous about cleaning it and apply the cream several times a day. I’m going to give you a shot of antibiotics, a very large dose, and then you have to make certain to take the entire bottle of pills.”
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.