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wounded, boy." He scratched behind the upright ears and resolutely turned back to gather the clothes
and weapons the sniper had left behind. He doubted if he would find an identity, but he could learn
something from them.
He made his way back toward the house, Franz beside him, taking his time to make a more thorough
inspection of the floor and trees in his reahn. He found the blind where the sniper laid waiting for just such
an opportunity as Rio lighting a candle might give him. The shifting of shadows against the thin woven
blanket was enough to give a marksman a chance of hitting a target. He stopped just a few steps from the
verandah, breathing deeply, allowing the knowledge that Rachael could have been killed to wash over
him.
He felt sick, his stomach churning. The sweat that broke out on his body had nothing to do with the heat.
The wind rarely touched the forest floor. It was always uncannily still there, the dense canopy shielding it,
yet high in the trees, the wind whispered and played and danced through the leaves. The sound was
soothing to him, the rhythm of nature.
He could understand the laws in the forest. He could even understand the necessity for violence in his
world, but he couldn't imagine what Rachael had done to deserve a death sentence. If one of his people
had contracted to kill a woman in cold blood, he knew the assassin would never stop until the deed was
accomplished. His kind was single-minded, and the ego of the male would now be bruised. The slow,
smoldering anger would flak into a dark, twisted hatred that would spread until it became a disease. The
male had missed twice and both times Rio and his clouded leopards, two lesser beings, had interfered. It
would be personal now.
He stepped onto the verandah. "Rachael, I'm coming in." He waited for a sound. For a sign. He didn't
realize he was holding his breath until he heard her voice. Tense. Frightened. Determined. So Rachael.
She was alive.
Rachael was still in exactly the same position on the floor as when he had left. The fact that she trusted his
expertise lifted his spirits even more. She looked up at him, sprawled out, his shirt barely covering her
bottom, her legs splayed half under the bed, her hair tousled and wild, spilling around her face, and she
grinned at him. "Nice of you to drop hi. I took a little nap but was getting hungry." Her gaze moved over
him anxiously, obviously inspecting for damage. Her grin widened. "And thirsty. I could use one of those
drinks you're so fond of making.
"And maybe a little help in getting up?" He found his voice was husky, almost hoarse, emotion catching
him off guard. Fritz lay curled up at her side and the gun and knife were on the floor beside her hand.
"That too. I heard shots." There was a little catch in her voice, but she managed to keep the smile on her
face.
He knew he loved her. It was the undaunted smile. The joy in her eyes. The anxiety for his safety. He
would never forget that moment. How she looked lying on the floor, blood seeping out of her leg, his shirt
twisted around her waist exposing her luscious bare rump and her smile. She was so beautiful it took his
breath away.
Rio hunkered down beside her, carefully inspected the damage to her leg. "We got lucky this time,
Rachael. I know it hurts, but it isn't that bad. I'm going to lift you up and it's going to jar you some. Let
me do the work."
She was always surprised at his enormous strength. Even after the revelation of what he was, she was
shocked at how easily he rifted her and set her back on the bed. She couldn't help herself. She had to
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touch him, map his face, run her fingertips over his chest just to feel for herself he was alive. "I heard
shots," she repeated, demanding an explanation.
"I winged him. He's one of my people, but I don't recognize his scent at all. I've never met him. We aren't
the only ones. Some of us live in Africa, others South America. Someone could have imported a..." he
trailed off. "A hit man?" She supplied.
"I was going to say sniper, but that works. It's possible. We hire out to take back kidnap victims. We
make it a policy not to mix in politics if it's at all possible, but sometimes it's inevitable. Our laws are fairly
strict; they have to be. Our. temperaments are not suited to everything and we have to keep that in mind
always. Control is everything to our species. We have intellect and cunning, but not always the control
needed to govern those things." "He was after me, wasn't he?" Rachael asked. Rio nodded. "Kim left the
medicine for your leg and I'm going to reapply it. We have to leave here. I'm going to take you to the
elders. They'll protect you there better than I can here."
"No." Rachael said it decisively. "I won't go there, Rio. I mean it. I won't go ever. Not for any reason."
"Rachael, don't go stubborn on me. This man is a professional and he knows where you are. He
probably knows you've been injured. He came far too close to killing you for my peace of mind."
"I'll leave if you want me to, but I'm not going to your elders." For the first time he heard a bite in her
voice. It wasn't edgy or moody, it was sheer temper. Her dark eyes flashed fire, nearly throwing sparks.
"Rachael." He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed back the mop of curls falling in all directions. "I'm
not abandoning you. It's safer for you. He's going to come back."
"Yes, I know he will. And you'll be here, won't you. Alone. By yourself. Because your idiot elders are
happy enough to take the money you earn risking your life to do whatever it is you do with your little unit.
You give it to them, don't you?" She glared at him. "I've seen how you live, and I can't see you having a
huge bank account stashed somewhere. You give it to the others, don't you?"
Rio shrugged. She was furious. Anger was radiating from her. Her body shook with it. His fingers
tunneled in her thick mass of hair. He didn't know why, maybe to hold her in place when she looked
capable of flying at the elders. "Some of it. I don't need it. The money is used to help protect our
environment. Our people need it, I don't. I live simply, Rachael, and I like my life. What I keep I use for
weapons or food or medicine. I just don't have that many needs."
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