He whispered to her words of love in the language of his people. Sestrilla. Beloved one. Hafelina. Small cat. Jue amoura sestrilla. I love you for all time. Anwou Jue selaviena en patre Jue. In this time and in all other time.
She heard the words, recognized them although she couldn’t respond in kind. The vocalization was a mixture of notes a feline used. She knew them, recognized them and found them beautiful, but she couldn’t produce them exactly, Rachael lifted her head and looked at him. At his face. His eyes. His mouth. “I love you too, Rio.”
As fierce as his lovemaking could be, as wild and rough as he was at times, he was infinitely tender. Kissing her with such tenderness tears welled up. His body moved in hers with deep, sure strokes, striving always for her pleasure. His hands worshipped her, shaped every curve, slid over her skin as if memorizing every detail.
He took his time, long slow strokes designed to burrow deeper, to fill her with his love. As the fever pitch rose, as they climbed together, the white mist swirled around them, as if they had created steam with the intensity of their heat. She dug her nails into his back and threw back her head, moving her hips in an answering rhythm, a dance of love, there on the verandah with the scent of orchids enfolding them and the breeze touching their bodies like fingers. All the while the rain came down, droplets of silver as the night settled in.
Rachael gasped as she felt him swell with victory, with the sheer pleasure of their joining, and she tightened her muscles around him, carrying them both over the edge. His voice blended with hers, a cry of joy in the darkness. They clung to one another, both reluctant to let go of the other.
A small flurry of leaves and a shower of orchid petals rained down from a branch above them and Franz tumbled onto the verandah at their feet. They jumped apart, Rio alert and ready, pressing her body against the rail in an effort to protect her. The bundle of fur rolled, bouncing off Rio’s calves. The small, clouded leopard dug paws into the floor and raked his hooked claws sharply over the wood.
“I looked for claw marks in the trees,” Rachael said, bending down to burrow her fingers in the small cat’s fur. “But I never saw any. Why do you rake claws in the house?”
“It’s more than marking territory. It’s the sharpening and disposing of old sheaths. It’s actually necessary, but we’ve been taught not to mark our passing in the forest because it draws poachers. Let them think we’re gone, no longer here, and hopefully they’ll stop shooting us. We choose to sharpen and mark indoors where we won’t be discovered.” He grinned at her, looking suddenly boyish. “Fritz and Franz learned from me.”
“That’s right, you’re the mommy figure.”
“Hey now.” He toed the cat rubbing along their legs with his bare foot. “He’s lonely for Fritz. They normally go everywhere together. I was hoping they’d find mates and bring me back a kitten or two, but they don’t seem interested.”
“Your life is much more exciting,” she pointed out. “They get to brag to all the other little cats about their adventures.”
They curled up on the small sofa in each other’s arms, on the verandah, passing the night away, listening to the endless rain. Watching the white mist curl around them until it felt as though they were high up in the clouds. Rio held her in his arms. “I do love you, Rachael. You brought something into my life I never want to do without.”
She rested her head on his chest. “I feel the same way.”
Franz jumped up onto the couch, nosing the two of them, doing his best to burrow between their bodies. Rio growled at the leopard. “You’re heavy, Franz, get down. You don’t need to be up here.”
Rachael laughed. Rio hadn’t pushed the leopard off, instead, he wrapped his arm around the small cat’s neck. Almost at once, Fritz hobbled out onto the deck, yowled softly and rubbed back and forth against their legs.
“Someone’s a little jealous,” Rachael pointed out and moved as close as she could to Rio to give the cat room to get up with them.
“Don’t encourage the little demon. Don’t you remember he’s the one that took a chunk out of your leg?” Rio groused.
“Poor little thing, he’s just lonely and he doesn’t feel very good.” She helped the cat up so he was lying partially across her lap. “If we had a houseful of children, they’d be all over us too.”
Rio groaned and shifted until he found a comfortable position. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Go to sleep.”
“We’re going to sleep out here?” The idea pleased her. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees so that they fluttered gracefully around them.
“For a little while.” Rio kissed the top of her bent head, content to hold her, to sit on his porch with Rachael and the leopards close to him and the rain falling softly in the background lulling them to sleep.
He woke close to dawn, jerking awake, his mind and senses instantly alert. Somewhere, deep in the forest, a nightjar screamed. A deer barked. A chorus of gibbons gave a full-throated warning. He closed his eyes for just a moment, savoring waking up with her next to him, with the small cats cuddled close. He hated to disturb her, hated to try to prepare her for the next crisis. There always seemed to be one and Rachael had gone through enough already. He wanted to protect her, make her life smooth and happy.
Regret in every line of his body, he did what he had to do. “Wake up, sestrilla.” He kissed her face, her eyelashes, the corners of her mouth. “The neighbors are getting noisy on us.”
Rachael listened for a moment then wrapped her arms tightly around Rio’s neck. “He’s here.” There was sheer terror in her voice.
Rio inhaled deeply. He swept back her hair, his touch lingering against her skin. “It isn’t your brother.” His tone was grim. He signaled the small leopard off the sofa.
“Then who?”
“Someone they know. Someone familiar to them. One of my people, yet one who doesn’t travel in my realm. Not one of my unit.”
Rachael reluctantly unfolded her body, stood on her own, yawning sleepily. She let her breath out slowly. “How far away?”
“A few minutes.” His hand slipped over her face. She felt it tremble.
Rachael caught his hand and held it to her breast, over her heart. “We’re in this together, Rio. Tell me what to do.”
“We’re going into the house and see to your leg. You’re favoring it and I see it’s swollen again from overuse. Then we’ll dress and straighten up our home and wait to see what he wants.” He reached past her to open the door courteously.
“Then you know who it is.”
He inhaled again. “Yes, I know him. It is Peter Delgrotto. He is of the high council. And his word is law to our people.”
Her dark eyes moved over his face. Saw too much. Saw into his heart. “You think he may tell me I have to go away.”
Rio shrugged. “I’ll hear him out before I get stirred up.”
She buttoned the shirt, realizing for the first time she still wore it. “This elder is coming here? That certainly takes a lot of nerve.” She snatched the jeans out of his hand and limped quickly over to the bed. “Your neighbors seem to drop in uninvited on a regular basis.”
“Not much sugar in the neighborhood and I’m known for my sweetness,” he quipped.
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Your little elder friend is going to think you’re the sweet one after he meets me. Why would he come here?”
“Elders do what they want and go where they will.”
“Sort of like leeches. No one invited him.”
There it was again—that little tug on his heart. She could make him smile in the worst of circumstances. He had no idea how he would react if the elders tried to take her from him, but he knew he wouldn’t allow it. He followed her, hunkered down beside her and examined her leg. He was certain Rachael would never recognize the authority of the elders. She wasn’t raised with their rules and she had already formed her allegiance with him. They might try ordering her around, but it would never work.
“You have a smug look on your face.”
“Smug? I’m never smug.” But he was feeling smug. The elders were going to get an earful if they tried to force Rachael to accept his banishment.
Rachael touched his dark hair, tugged at the silky strands until he looked at her. “If they think they’re going to change your sentence from banishment to death, they’re going to have a fight on their hands.”
She looked so warriorlike he grinned as he washed her calf gently and applied more of Tama’s magic healing potion. “Once a sentence is handed down, they won’t change it. My skills are of value to the community, so I doubt they’d even ask me to leave this area.”
His fingers were soothing on her leg but his comment set her teeth on edge. “Let them ask us to leave. They don’t own the forest. Blast them anyway. I hate bullies.” She yanked her jeans over her leg and began making up the bed with fast, jerky movements. She nearly kicked Fritz with her bare foot, forgetting he had taken refuge under the bed.
Rachael looked flaming mad. Even her hair crackled with electricity. He grinned to himself as he pulled on his own clothes. The house was being put back in shape in rapid order although she was limping even more.
“Sit down, sestrilla.” He kept his voice gentle. “All that hopping around isn’t doing your leg any good.” He pulled out his guns and checked the chambers, setting each one carefully on the table.
“We have a tub in the middle of the floor,” she pointed out, her dark eyes spitting sparks. “You could do something about it instead of idly babying your guns.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Idly babying my guns?” he repeated.
“Exactly. What do you intend to do? Shoot the man? The precious, all-wise elder? Not that I mind, but at least warn me.”
“You’re in one of your little moods again, aren’t you? I think if you had some sort of signal to give to me before you went off, it would help tremendously.”
She straightened up and turned around very slowly to face him. “My little moods?”
His mouth twitched. He forced his features to remain expressionless. She looked like a volcano about to explode. His smile would definitely trigger dynamite. “I may have no choice but to shoot him. Think about it, Rachael. Why would he come here when he isn’t allowed to acknowledge my existence? There’s little point in it.” The tub of water was bothering her, so just to keep her from pitching the wadded-up pillow at him, he scooped out a few bucketfuls of water and dumped it down the sink.
Rachael was silent for a long time watching him. She sank into a chair. “Aren’t these elders the lawmakers? Are they holy people? What exactly are they? Besides imbeciles, I mean.”
“You can’t call them imbeciles to their faces, Rachael,” he pointed out.
“If you can shoot them, I can call them names.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her. “Are elders called elders because they’re old? Ancient? Full of hot air?”
“You haven’t even met the man and you’re already belligerent.”
Her dark eyes swept over him with repressed fury. “I am never belligerent.”
He picked up the tub and carried it out to the verandah. It was still fairly full and very heavy. Water sloshed as he tipped it over the railing. “I suppose there’s some logic in you having permission to call them names if I can shoot them,” he agreed to appease her. He didn’t bother to take the tub to the small hut hidden in the trees some distance away. He set it to one side, out of the way should he need to take to the trees fast. Outside, he listened to the night creatures calling to one another, giving away the location of the intruder as he moved closer to the house.
Had he not been banished he would have gone, out of respect, to meet the man instead of making him come all the way up the tree to him. The elder was in his eighties and, although in great shape, would still feel the affects of the long distance. He ducked back inside to comb his hair into some semblance of order.
Rachael watched him, saw the small frown, the worry lines around his eyes. Most of all she saw that Rio changed his casual appearance, and that meant something. She took her cue from him, brushing the tangles from her hair, checking to see that her skin was clean and brushing her teeth. She hadn’t used the small stash of beauty supplies she’d stuffed in her pack since she’d arrived, but she pulled them out.
“What is that?”
“Makeup. I thought I’d try to look presentable for your elder.” She hesitated, tried again. “Wise man. Personage.”
“Elder is fine.” He stalked across the room and took the lip gloss from her hand. “You’re beautiful, Rachael, and you damned well don’t have to look perfect for him.”
For the first time in a while a ghost of a smile curved her mouth. Talk about someone who has little moods! “Actually, tree dweller, I was going to look perfect for you, not your brainless elder.” She held out her hand for the lip gloss.
He put it in her palm. “I should at least get points for the beautiful compliment.”
Her smile widened. “I censored because of the beautiful compliment. It would have been a lot worse than tree dweller.”
“You terrify me.” Rio bent and kissed her upturned mouth. How had he managed to live so long without her and think he was alive? Had he just been walking through life all those years? Loving her terrified him. It was so strong, a tidal wave welling up inside of him, consuming him, so at times he couldn’t even look at her.
“Well that’s a good thing as far as I’m concerned.” Rachael applied the lip gloss and a bit of mascara. She was apprehensive and struggled to hide it. She glanced at Rio from under her long lashes. He was definitely on alert in spite of the banter back and forth between them. She reached across to the table, slipped a knife from the sheath and slid it beneath the cushion of her chair. Assassins came in all shapes and sizes and genders. Age never seemed to matter either.
PETER Delgrotto was tall and thin, a tough, sinewy man with lines etched deeply in his face. His eyes were a strange amber, glittering with some hidden fire, a focused, haunting stare that carried a great degree of menace. Rachael had expected a wizened, elderly man staggering under the weight of his years, but Delgrotto carried power and danger in his piercing eyes. He stood straight, fully clothed. The only sign of the long, arduous trip was the sheen of sweat on his skin and the breath moving in bursts in and out of his lungs that he couldn’t quite hide.