Wild Fire
Page 112

“Can you tell me what he did?”
She moistened her lips and pressed back against the wall, needing the stability of the structure. “He said he wanted you to meet him. He said you’d know where.”
“He’s gone,” Rio announced. “He got in through a small screened vent in the attic. He had to have planned this very carefully.” He swung down and stood next to Conner, observing her pale face and bloody clothes. “I’ll call the doc.” He reached for the light.
Isabeau shook her head, alarm spreading across her face, so much so that Conner held up his hand to stop Rio.
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Don’t turn on the light.”
“I have to take a look at you,” Conner said, his voice gentle. “I’m going to pick you up, beloved. It may hurt.” He had no idea of the extent of her injuries, but the scent of blood was strong. There was a hint of lingering musk, as if Ottila had been aroused, but he didn’t smell sex.
“There’s broken glass on the floor,” Isabeau warned.
It seemed so inconsequential to him given the circumstances. “We’ll be careful.” He reached for her, afraid of hurting her when she shuddered in his arms. The scent of blood was stronger, but even more so was the scent of Ottila’s leopard. He’d marked her deliberately, wanting to insult Conner, wanting him to realize he could take his woman at any time. Conner read the challenge for what it was.
“Would you mind starting a bath, Rio?” he asked, more to get the man out of the room than for any other reason.
He had no idea where to start. He just knew that he couldn’t make this about him, about the rage burning like a wildfire in his belly. This had to be about Isabeau. She was dazed, confused and looking at him with fear in her eyes.
Shaken, Conner gathered Isabeau to him, cradling her against his chest, feeling her wince when her body pressed against his. “What did he do?”
“He beat me,” she said, suppressing another sob. “He wasn’t angry. He just beat me, like it was a job to him. And then he used his claws on me, on my . . . body.” She buried her face against his shoulder and clung to him.
So close to her, the scent of the other leopard was overpowering. His cat went wild, raking and clawing, demanding to be set free to kill his rival. He wanted the scent off of her. “I need to look at the damage, Isabeau.”
She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Would you be more comfortable with a woman? With Mary?” He kept his voice gentle.
Again she shook her head. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
He had to ask. “Did he rape you?”
She pressed her forehead tight against his shoulder. His heart pounded hard in his chest, but he made no movement, staying still, just waiting.
“He said he would never rape a woman.” She began to weep a little wildly. “He was so cruel, Conner. And all the while, he acted like I deserved it, like I had betrayed him.”
He tightened his arms carefully around her, trying not to choke on the other man’s smell. His leopard was insane, pushing close to the surface, raging at his enemy, trying to rip through flesh to get to the hideous, offensive smell.
“We’re going to get you in the bathtub where I can inspect the damage. You’ll need painkillers, Isabeau, and antibiotics . . .”
She lifted her face to look at him for the first time and there was a hint of pride in her gaze. “He said you’d be too upset to remember the antibiotics, but you didn’t forget. ”
“Of course I didn’t,” he brushed a kiss along her forehead. “You’re my first priority, always, Isabeau.”
“He thought I’d be upset that you went to help Jeremiah,” she said. “But I’m glad you did.” She couldn’t keep the edge of hysteria from her voice. “He did everything he could to drive a wedge between us.”
Conner’s stomach knotted. He heard the uncertainty in her voice. She wasn’t aware of it, but Ottila had done damage to Isabeau by shaking her confidence, not only in him—that he could accept another man’s mark on her—but in herself. He lifted her, taking her on through to the bathroom. Rio had thoughtfully lit candles to keep the light muted and soft.
“Should I get the doc?” he asked.
“She’s already on antibiotics. Give me some time to assess the damage,” Conner said. “He planned this out very well. He let me catch a whiff of him, laid a trail straight to Jeremiah, hurt him enough that we’d stay there and help, left us another trail into the forest leading away from the valley and from here, and all the while we were chasing him he was terrorizing Isabeau.”
“Is it possible he’s doing Cortez’s bidding?” Rio ventured. “We have to at least take a look at the possibility that she knows about us.”
“No.” Isabeau raised her head, her gaze meeting Rio’s steadily. “He deserted Imelda and is coming after Conner. He’s got a twisted sense of right and wrong. It was okay to beat me, but not okay to rape me. I should accept him and we can live happily ever after, although he might have to kill Conner’s and my child. I think he has enough money to be satisfied and he’s already moved on to his next agenda. I made the mistake of marking him.” Her voice wobbled but she kept her gaze steady. “This isn’t about Imelda. We’re still clear to go.”
“You’re betting our lives on that,” Rio said. “A good way to kill Conner is to lure him into Imelda’s compound.”