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would choose to betray bis people with such an act, but he was certain this one had not been born anywhere near his village.
Did that mean that Rachael’s people knew what she was and that she was under a death sentence? They had strict rules they all lived under. The laws of the forest were for the common good of their species. If she had committed some crime against her people, it was possible they would send hunters after her.
Rio rubbed his hand over his face. If that were the case, her elders could appeal to the elders of his village to carry out the sentence for them. Rio was already under banishment. He doubted if the elders would stick up for his mate, especially if she wasn’t known to them and under a legitimate sentence of death. He swore as he shifted back into the shape of a leopard to drag the carcass up into the high branches of a tree. He had no choice but to burn the leopard to preserve the secrets of their species. He had to find his nearest stash of supplies fast. Leaving the body of a leopard was extremely dangerous so he had no choice but to cache the body until he returned.
His mind raced with the possibility of Rachael’s people condemning her. She admitted her own brother had taken out a contract on her life. It made sense, although he couldn’t imagine what Rachael could have done to warrant a death sentence. He moved swiftly through the forest, ignoring the warning cries of the gibbons, still panic-stricken from the fierce fight that had ensued. Birds fluttered overhead, darting in and out of the trees. Deer crashed ahead of him, scattering as he leapt from branch to branch, occasionally taking to the forest floor and leaping over rotting tree trunks.
The wind shifted slightly, a tiny breeze where ordinarily the uncanny stillness in the air gave nothing away. Rio came to an abrupt halt. There was another in the forest close by. He recognized the scent of the leopard. The birds and gibbons and even the deer had been warning him, but
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he’d been so distressed over the thought of Rachael being under a death sentence, he hadn’t picked up on it.
Fortunately, he was close to his pack. The box was buried nearby, in the cage created by the buttress foots of a large dipterocarp tree. He had marked-the fruit-bearing tree with a small symbol. Using his claws, he dug up the box quickly, listening now to the news of the forest. The second leopard was approaching quickly, obviously catching his scent.
Rio shifted to human form, strapping on weapons as fast as possible, his expression grim. Only after his guns were checked and his knives concealed did he drag on the clothes and attach the small medical kit to his belt. Feeling the impact of the leopard’s focused stare, he whipped around, rifle up and ready, finger on the trigger.
“You’re up early, Drake.” His voice was pleasant, relaxed, casual even, but the barrel never wavered from dead center on the cat’s brain and he didn’t take his finger from the trigger.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Drake’s form contorted, lengthened, muscles reshaping to form the man. He glared at Rio. “You want to tell me why you’re still pointing that thing at me?”
“You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“I spent most of the night tracking you and that rogue leopard. You, I lost, he wasn’t as good. You wounded him and that made it easier for me to track him.”
“Why?”
Drake frowned. “You tick-ridden son of a bearded pig. I decided to go back to guard your butt out of concern for your well-being. By the time I got back to your place, you and Rachael were gone and I had to track you through the forest. It was slow going when I realized the sniper was tracking you as well. He lost you a few times and I stayed behind him, wanting to see what he did.” Abruptly he stopped and glared. “Damn it, Rio, put the rifle down. It’s not only insulting, it’s annoying.”