His hands moved over her body to inspect the savage wounds on her right side. “These are deep. You’re going to need stitches. Infection is a problem with this kind of wound. We’ll put you on IV antibiotics immediately. Can you move a little so I can look at your other side?”
Now that he was doing something to aid her, his tone had gone to brisk and matter-of-fact. His momentary lapse was gone and Rafe was once again in complete control.
She could barely breathe let alone answer him. Tears streamed down her face, although she wasn’t certain if she was really crying or if it was an involuntary reaction to pain. She’d never felt agony like this in her life. She didn’t know a person could live with such pain.
Rafe didn’t wait to see if she could manage on her own. He gripped her arms to shift her to one side, but his hands slipped through the blood and fell away. He cursed and looked at the puncture wounds on her shoulder. She was losing a lot of blood there as well. His cat had been savage in establishing dominance over the little female. The moment the little leopard had disappeared and the male had a human under him his instinct was to kill. Rafe had used every ounce of his own strength and iron will to pull the leopard back and allow him to shift.
“Let’s get you out of here. I have a vehicle just outside the tree line. You need medical attention, Catarina. It’s going to hurt when I lift you. If you feel yourself passing out, just do it.”
She was surprised at the gentleness in his voice. He had never been a gentle man, but he was afraid for her. She knew she was in trouble just by his voice.
His arms went around her and he lifted her. She screamed as sheer agony ripped through her. Her sides felt as if someone had ripped them apart, exposing bone and organs to air.
Rafe suddenly cursed and nearly tossed her away, but at the last minute he went down on one knee and shoved her away from him. She hit hard and rolled, leaving smears of blood in the grass. The action took what little air remained in her lungs so she couldn’t even cry out.
But she saw him. The huge black panther charging toward them. His golden eyes were deadly and focused wholly on Rafe. Already Rafe was shifting, rushing toward the black leopard as he did so to give his leopard momentum. He was fully cat by the time the two males came together in a terrible crash of heavy bodies.
Roars of challenge filled the air. The sounds were terrible. Fur flew. Droplets of blood sprayed high in the air and surrounded the two combatants. They reared up on their hind legs like two primal beasts, raking with hooked claws and biting with terrible teeth. They dropped apart and charged again, leaping into the air, changing direction in midair, using flexible spines to try to get a killing position on the other over and over.
They were both experienced fighters and strong males. Roped muscles moved fluidly beneath the loose skin that protected them from the teeth and claws of their adversaries. They hit each other so hard, driving first Rafe and then Eli from their feet, the sound horrible each time their bodies came together, like two freight trains crashing. The ground shook at times.
Catarina lay a distance from the two snarling, fighting leopards, her eyes on them, but her vision was hazy. She had thought she would be afraid for Eli when this moment came. She’d always known it would come. Always. Eli and Rafe would fight to the death right there in front of her. Before she’d been absolutely certain of the outcome – certain Rafe would kill Eli. Now, she wasn’t afraid for Eli.
She blinked several times in an attempt to clear her vision. It took a moment to realize she was sinking into unconsciousness. She didn’t want to do that. She had to know Eli survived. She felt an overwhelming sadness for Rafe, but even at the end, when he could have easily shouted to Eli that she was in trouble and needed medical attention, he had chosen to fight as a leopard because he’d rather she die than allow her to be with someone else. That wasn’t love. Eli would have allowed Rafe to get her help if that was the only way to keep her alive.
He didn’t know the condition she was in, and she didn’t want him to know. He’d sacrifice himself for her. She had to hold on because she wasn’t losing a man like Eli. She knew he would defeat Rafe and find a way to get her to safety.
“Catarina.” The voice startled her.
She turned her head away from the battling leopards and blinked several times to focus. Jake Bannaconni crouched beside her. His chest was bare, and she didn’t look any further down his body. She kept her eyes on his face.
“God, honey. I’ve called for our helicopter. We’ll get you to a hospital. You have to hang on for me.”
She licked at her lips. Tasted blood. She couldn’t talk and wondered if the leopard had ripped out her throat. Her gaze shifted back to the fighting males. Blood streaked their fur coats. Sides were heaving, desperate for air. Other leopards were there, ringing the two males and she realized her screams and the roars of the leopards had carried on the wind to Jake’s ranch and they’d come.
“I’m going to try to stop this bleeding, Cat,” Jake said. “It may hurt, but I have to get it stopped.”
She nodded, or at least she thought she did. Her body shook with chills. She was cold and her brain wasn’t functioning very well. She couldn’t really think, and Jake’s voice sounded as if it came from a great distance away. She felt his hands on her side, pressing something into the wounds, pressing it so hard her body seemed to rip apart beneath the pressure. She couldn’t scream. She opened her mouth but no sound emerged. He did it a second time. Then a third. Black edged her vision.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Jake whispered, his voice crooning.
She hadn’t known he could sound so sweet, not unless he was talking to Emma or his children. He didn’t use that voice on anyone else, at least she didn’t think so. He kept his distance from most people. She thought he tolerated her for Emma, but his voice indicated affection.
“I’m going to turn you. It’s going to hurt.”
There was distaste in his tone, as if the thought of hurting her more was absolutely abhorrent to him. His hands were gentle as he turned her away from the ring of leopards watching the terrible battle. The movement made her sick. She knew she was going to vomit.
Jake was suddenly there, holding her head to one side, pulling her hair out of the way. The moment she emptied her stomach, he shifted her away from the mess and once again pressed something deep into the wound on her side. She wanted to pass out. She even reached for that oblivion, but it didn’t happen. She felt the terrible pressure again, as if he’d poured gasoline on the fire that burned into her side.
“He raked you on both sides,” Jake explained. “He got you with his claws. Three deep rakes on each side. I know it hurts like hell and you’re losing too much blood, but he didn’t hit anything vital.”
His voice steadied her. She was really listening to the sounds of the battle between two large males in their prime fighting to the death. Eli. Rafe. Only one would walk away alive, she knew that. No one would interfere in the battle between the two leopards. That was the shifter way. That was their justice. But Rafe was rogue, and these shifters would kill him even if he won the battle with Eli. She wished they’d just get it over with. She didn’t understand the strange code of shifters, nor did she care to, not when it put Eli’s life on the line.
“I’ve got to look at your shoulder and neck, honey.”
He was already sitting her up, moving her body against his. It was strange to be in such an intimate position with a man other than Eli. Neither wore clothes, and yet she felt nothing, not even embarrassment. She didn’t think about it once the thought moved through her head. With Jake holding her up, she could at least look again at the two leopards.
Rafe was a short distance from Eli, his leopard’s evil eyes fixed on the black panther. The tawny head was down, sides heaving in and out as the leopard tried desperately to drag in air. He took a step and staggered. Eli’s leopard hit him fast, hard, driving him from his feet. The sheer savagery of the attack left her breathless.
Even through the heat and haze of battle, the black rage rising like a tidal wave, Eli smelled Catarina’s blood. The scent was overwhelming, sickening him. He couldn’t rush to her side and see the extent of her injuries, not with Cordeau’s killing machine of a leopard determined to rip him to pieces.
Eli’s male was nearly as bad. The fight was savage. Brutal. Crushing. His male wanted not just to kill the tawny leopard, he wanted him to feel every crushing blow. Every deep slash and rake of claws. Every bite. Leopards went after the soft parts of the body in a fight, including the genitals, and Eli’s male knew every trick in the book.
Cordeau’s male relied on brute strength. He’d hunted humans. Humans without guns or weapons of any kind. Humans lost in the swamp. Mostly females who were terrified. Eli’s male had honed his battle skills in the rain forests, fighting with teams to extract kidnap victims. Roughhousing. Mock battles. Learning technique and always, always conditioning.
There was immense satisfaction in every blow he dealt to the rogue leopard. Every brutal injury he bestowed on the beast. Until Jake and the others had arrived, all in leopard form, and yet Jake had hastily shifted to human form and rushed to Catarina’s side. That meant something was wrong. Like most leopards traveling, Jake had kept a small pack around his neck with clothes, yet he hadn’t taken the time to don them. That meant Catarina was in dire circumstances.
Then he heard Jake call in the helicopter. He’d faltered in that split second and he was damned lucky that Cordeau was struggling to stay on his feet. He should have dealt the killing blow right then, but Eli could barely breathe with fear. He couldn’t lose Catarina. He hadn’t considered that it might happen. He had every confidence that he would defeat Cordeau. There was no other option.
Cordeau couldn’t have Catarina. She was a treasure and the man hadn’t protected her, and even now, when he could have called out to Eli that she needed aid, he’d chosen to battle instead. That meant no more dealing out punishment. That meant killing Cordeau fast. The black panther understood, knew his mate was in trouble and instantly charged the leopard who had attempted to take her away from them.
He hit the side of the large cat and drove him over, feeling something give in the other animal. The leopard screamed in pain and rage. In fear. The heavier black panther didn’t hesitate. He ripped at the unprotected underside of the tawny leopard, attacked the softer exposed male parts drawing rivers of blood. When the leopard had no choice but to turn in desperation, Eli was on him, driving his teeth deep in and holding him there in the killing stranglehold of their kind.
Desperate, Cordeau’s cat fought to get free, fleeing uppermost in his mind now. Self-preservation had finally kicked in. The tawny male used his last remaining strength to stagger a few steps, trying to dislodge the black leopard, but Eli’s male clamped down all the more viciously, determined to end the fight. Determined to destroy his rival. Determined to get to his mate to see how bad her injuries were.
Cordeau’s male’s fur was dark with blood. He fought one more savage moment, trying to turn, to use his flexible spine to hook claws into Eli’s male, but the black leopard countered the movement, his bite relentless. He cut off the airway and simply held on, a ruthless, merciless kill. Eli felt no remorse and even less compassion.
He knew Catarina would hurt over this kill, but he also knew it was necessary. Cordeau had allowed his leopard to go rogue, and in doing so, the same madness infected him. No shifter could allow that. No shifter would allow it. Hunting human men or woman in the swamp was absolutely murder and they all knew it. It was forbidden, against every law they had.
Cordeau couldn’t see the inside of a courtroom. He had to die and his body had to be burned and then buried deep where no one would ever find the evidence. His three lieutenants had to join him. Catarina might not like it, but she would understand. She had to understand, because he wasn’t losing her over Cordeau’s death and his part in it.
Cordeau’s large male gave one more shudder and then went limp. Eli’s panther knew better than to drop him. He kept a relentless, merciless pressure, a stranglehold that would suffocate the other cat, but he couldn’t let go too soon, although the need to get to his mate was nearly overwhelming.
Eli had discipline and he used every ounce of it. Waiting. Feeling the life drain from the cat until he was completely a dead weight. Still he held on. Elijah’s leopard ventured close. Eli fought down the urge to attack, realizing his leopard was still in battle mode. Elijah must have known it, because he was careful to approach with caution. He shifted just his arm and hand, checking Cordeau’s animal for signs of life. His cat shook his head, and Eli knew Cordeau was gone.
His black panther dropped the other cat and he spun around, uncaring of his injuries. Uncaring that he was exhausted from the intense, brutal battle between the two male leopards. He shifted as he ran, reaching Jake, reaching Catarina.
His heart stuttered in his chest when he saw her. It nearly stopped. Terror lived and breathed in him. He hadn’t known terror. Not even as a young boy when his parents had died. Grief. Overwhelming sorrow. But not terror. Not like this.
“Get dressed fast, the helicopter is coming. I’ll go with you to the hospital,” Jake instructed, preventing Eli from wrenching Catarina out of his arms. “Hurry. I’ll need to dress as well. The boys will clean up here.”
Elijah tossed him a pack, and Eli yanked the jeans free, dragging them up over his hips. Only then did he realize his body was streaked with blood as well. He hadn’t felt the blows. Not any of them, but of course Cordeau’s cat had scored on his male. He didn’t bother with shoes or a shirt, he reached for Catarina, needing to hold her to him.
She cried out when her side came in contact with his, an involuntary cry that made it seem all the worse. Her face was twisted with pain and her skin felt cold and clammy. Leopards were always hot-blooded and to feel the chill in her skin added to his growing fear.