A guard, alerted by the darker shadows, rushed to the opening of the tent, rifle to his shoulder. A second leopard dropped from the tree above, taking him to the ground in a stranglehold. It was done in absolute silence. Rio shook the man one last time to insure he couldn’t possibly raise an alarm. He dragged the carcass inside the tent and doused the lamp, plunging the tent into darkness so there would be no shadows to give away the life-and-death struggle between the two combatants.
Rio partially shifted, catching Armando’s wrist and
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twisting to rid him of the knife. He was already dying, black venomous hatred congealed in his eyes as he stared at the face of his nephew, into the eyes of the leopard that slowly crushed his airway, cutting off precious oxygen.
Elijah lay gripping the throat, his sides heaving and slick with blood. Rio nosed him, pushed at him in an effort to get him up and moving before they were discovered. Rio shifted into his human form. “He’s gone, Elijah. He’s dead.” Just to be certain Rio checked the man’s pulse. “You’re losing too much blood, come on, let’s get out of here. Go for the branches just outside the tent.”
Elijah couldn’t believe the monster was dead. He stared dumbly at Armando, at the open, glassy eyes and knew he looked on the face of evil. There was pain, but it was distant and far away. He pawed clumsily at the shut, ripping the material to expose the meshed braided steel plate beneath it.
“Elijah, we don’t have much time.” Rio caught the large male around the neck and tried to pull the head around, away from the monster lying crushed and beaten. “You’re losing too much blood. You aren’t going to survive if we don’t get out of here now.” When the leopard remained standing over Armando’s body, Rio changed tactics. “Rachael’s waiting, Elijah. She’s afraid for us. Let’s get home to her.”
The leopard lifted his muzzle and looked at Rio with sad eyes. Despair was there. Confusion. A deep, deep sorrow. Rio touched the furred head again. “You’re free. Both of you are free. Your life belongs to you now.” Rio shifted shape, taking his animal form, leading the way out of the darkened tent. Leading the way back to Rachael. Back to life.
20
THERE was music playing. Rio hadn’t heard anything other than tribal music in so long he’d forgotten how beautiful it could be. There was the powerful scent of flowers, orchid blossoms bursting out all over. All over the trees, in the hair of the women. And there were people. There seemed to be people standing everywhere he looked. He’d never been around so many people, not in years.
“You’re a bit pale there, brother.” Elijah stole up behind him in his silent way, still favoring his right side. It had taken Tama and Kim’s father to save his life. He was still recovering from the severe wounds inflicted by Armando. “You aren’t going to faint or anything, are you?”
Rio glared at him. “Who the hell are all these people? Where’d they come from? Don’t they have homes or something?”
“Rachael said you were going to be a big baby over this,” Elijah said. He pulled a twig from a tree and put the end in his mouth, his strong teeth chewing on the green stem.
“Your seven stab wounds aren’t going to keep me from
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“Twelve,” Elijah corrected. “It’s true five weren’t that deep, but still…”
Rio scowled at him. “A little bit of overkill, don’t you think? Letting that son of a bitch stab you twelve times? You could have gotten the same amount of sympathy with just three or four times.”
Elijah nodded, straight-faced. “True, but the story isn’t as good in the retelling.”
“Well, the number’s probably going to grow with the retelling anyway so you could have saved yourself a bit of trouble and a hell of a lot of stitches,” Rio pointed out.
“I didn’t think of that.”
“How are your teeth?”
“Still in my head, but they hurt like hell. Don’t talk about my teeth.” Elijah groaned, “I think they’re still loose.”