Wild Rain(43)

It was useless to hide from her in animal for m. 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 car eful 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 cir cumstances.

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 carr ion 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 car efully 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 cer tain 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 tr acked 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.”

Rachael shifted her weight, bent forward to circle his neck with her arms in an effort to comfort him.

Something whizzed past her ear so fast it hummed, thudding into the wall, sending splinters in all directions.

Ten

Rio reacted instantly, wrapping his arms around her and dragging herto the floor, his body covering hers. The movement jarred her leg, sent pain radiating up her thigh and through her stomach so that she wanted to scream. It was only then that she heard the boom of the distant rifle reaching them. At once a series of spits peppered the room, tearing up the wall and showering the room with splinters of wood.

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.