She ran in the rain, listening to the sounds of the drops hitting the leaves and the ground. There was a rhythm there that soothed her. Even within her leopard, holding herself still as she waited for her heart to slow and her eyes to quit burning, the rain reached her and calmed her.
Rafe had no one else. No one to love him. No one to care whether he was alive or dead. No one loyal to him, not without his money and fear of him. He was alone. She had felt the weight of that since she was a child. She'd tried so hard to get him to care for her. Nothing had worked--at least she hadn't thought that it did, not when she was a child and needed someone to care about her.
Her leopard cleared a large tree trunk down across the path. Smoothly. Easily. Landing lightly without a sound. Eli had taught her how to move through the heavy brush silently, stealthily, pulling in every bit of information her surroundings could give her. He wanted her to have every advantage. He'd prepared her. He hadn't thumped his chest and told her to stay in the safe house, instead, he'd been tough on her. Conditioning with her, running every day, teaching her martial arts. Shooting with her on the range. Using weapons. Climbing boulders.
Her training hadn't stopped there. He worked with her on shifting fast. Shifting on the run. Disposing of her clothes in record time practically as she shifted, so she had every advantage. He'd made her practice over and over, hundreds of times until she was absolutely smooth and fast at it.
Still there was more. His male had taught her female how to maneuver, to get under her opponent, to avoid the stranglehold of his teeth. How to use her claws to her advantage, to turn in midair and to land in a defensive or offensive position.
Eli had cared enough to prepare her. Still, when he reluctantly told her Jake and he could bring Rafe down with her help, she'd felt sick inside. Part of it, she conceded, was that Eli had tried to force her to help them when he worked for the DEA. A tiny, tiny part of her was afraid he'd set her up again. She knew better. Deep down, she did. She knew better. But the nagging little monster that told her men like Eli couldn't possibly love her had reared its ugly head.
Still, all that aside, and that was clearly her own sad little issue, why was it that she felt the need to protect Rafe? He was a killer. He needed to be brought to justice. Every minute he was loose in the world, innocent people could be killed just for his pleasure. His enjoyment. He liked to hunt them. He liked to kill. He would come back from his trips to the swamp almost euphoric.
And he hadn't been the only one. She knew, even if Eli and Jake managed to kill Rafe, there were at least three more men under him who hunted victims let loose in the swamp with him. Women mostly, but occasionally someone who double-crossed Rafe.
My little leopard, can I just stay here, tucked into the safety of your protection, and never come out again?
If she could have, she would have put her hand on the animal and just held on. She needed something to hold on to. Someone to hold on to. To steady her. To tell her it was okay to the do the right thing and stop Rafe. That she wouldn't be abandoning him as she'd felt so abandoned.
Her throat ached. Her eyes burned. The little leopard faltered. Stopped. Stood, head down in the middle of the path, shaking. The rain continued to pour down. At once the male moved close, rubbing his fur along the female's side. Nuzzling her. Chuffing softly in inquiry. He extended his neck, chin on top of her head protectively.
Rafe had killed David Belmont, because of her. She'd liked David a lot. He owned his own coffee-house and was proud of it. He was funny and smart, and he'd taken a chance on her. She liked Bernard as well. He wrote great poetry and lived in a fantasy world, another era, but still, he was a unique and wonderful man and he didn't deserve to die at the hands of a madman. She didn't know Jase, only that once he'd drunkenly made a pass at her and displayed incredibly bad judgment. Eli had taken care of the situation and that should have been the end of it. The man probably didn't even know her last name, and he certainly hadn't deserved to die just because he'd crossed paths with her.
If she didn't help Jake and Eli bring Rafe's business down, someone else would take his place. They wouldn't hunt in the swamp, but they killed in their own ways, by running drugs, and arms. By beating up and cheating the prostitutes who worked for them. Or giving the women to men like Rafe who murdered them.
She had no choice. There was no other choice. Her heart ached and she felt guilty, but even if she was silly enough to think she could help Rafe by going back to him, she knew she couldn't. He was too far gone. Whatever had happened to him in his childhood, whatever had transformed him into a monster had a hold of him and wouldn't let him go. She couldn't save him. Sacrificing her happiness and Eli's wouldn't solve anything at all.
She shifted on the path, needing Eli's arms around her. Needing the solid weight of his body surrounding hers. She didn't try to stand, the heavy male's head still was over hers, but she felt no fear. His fur was slick with rain, but soft and comforting against her bare skin.
Then Eli was there, his body wrapped around hers. His chest was over her back and his breath was warm on the nape of her neck. One arm slid around her waist.
"What is it, Kitten?" he asked softly. "Tell me what you need."
Tell me what you need. His voice was there to steady her. A soft whisper of truth. All she had to do was say it, want it, wish for it, and Eli moved heaven and earth to provide it for her.
"You. I need you, Eli," she answered, staring out into the trees, into the dark. She should have been afraid, on her hands and knees there in the rain, out in the open on a narrow path, with lightning forking in the distance and thunder rolling loudly. She should have been cold, but she wasn't.
His hands answered her. His palms stroked her breasts, cupped them, fingers finding her nipples to roll and tug until fire streaked to her tight sheath. The sensation was incredible with the cool of the rain and sudden heat of her body.
His mouth whispered over her back, down her spine in little kisses. His tongue lapped at the droplets, until he found the dimples just above the curve of her buttocks.
"Right here, baby. We need to get that tattoo. It's killing me. I can look at you, you belonging to me, whenever I take you like this."
She turned her head then, her gaze burning into his. "You really want me to get a tattoo?" She watched him closely.
"Only if you want one." His eyes held hers for a moment before he dropped his head to follow a little stream of rain along the slope of one firm cheek.
His tongue felt like hot velvet. He lapped at her, pushed at the insides of her thighs to force them wider so he could dip his head and taste her. Not just taste her. Eli never just tasted her. He devoured her. He became ravenous with the first dip of his tongue, and the sounds he made were those of a predatory animal, claiming his share of the food supply and declaring to the world he'd fight to the death for it.
His hands moved over her body possessively, strong. So strong. She loved that about him, the enormous strength she felt each time he touched her. She could count on it. She needed that right now. He stroked her, kneaded and massaged, all the while his clever mouth, his tongue and teeth coaxed more and more honey from her.
When she was panting, and her mewling cries filled the air, he suddenly dragged her hips back into him, slamming his cock into her fiercely, forcing his way through her tight delicate folds to bury himself deep. The breath slammed out of her lungs and her soft cry mingled with his harsher one.
"Don't stop. Please, Eli. I need you."
She didn't have to ask him twice. He surged into her over and over so hard the only thing keeping her up was his arm, a tight band around her waist. He pounded into her, the friction exquisite, as the rain bathed them in cool drops, nearly hissing on their hot skin. She felt alive. She felt loved. She knew exactly where she belonged and to whom. Eli was her man, and she loved being his woman. She loved that she asked him to take her in the middle of the path and he hadn't even hesitated.
She knelt in grass, but the water w
as a good inch around her knees and legs and Eli hadn't cared. His body was a fierce machine, streaking fire through her. Flames raced up her skin. Electricity arced from his skin to hers. The sensations just built, one on the next. He never stopped, a relentless force driving her up higher and higher until she knew in another moment she would fly apart, shatter into a million pieces.
It didn't matter, because Eli would find every single broken piece of her and put her back together again. Her breath hissed out of her lungs. She needed to fly. Wanted it. Reached for it.
"Not yet, baby. This time with me." He wasn't done. He kept going, forcing her to go with him.
"I don't think I can wait," she gasped, her voice a half plea.
But she would. She would wait. She would do as he demanded because he was Eli and she loved him. She loved that he was taking her on a wild, crazy ride she could barely comprehend. It was Eli and it didn't matter that the pleasure threatened to kill her, she would do whatever he wanted, including getting his tattoo for him. Because she loved pleasing him and he moved heaven and earth to give her anything she wanted.
Her breath came in short ragged sobs and the tension coiled tighter and tighter until she thought she might really go insane with the need to explode. She clenched her teeth, using every ounce of discipline and self-control she had to hold back the orgasm that was so close, threatening to roar through her. Her body shook with the effort.
Eli reached around and caught her nipple between his thumb and finger, clamping down so that the pleasure streaked to her clit at the same time his cock bore down while he thrust deep.
"Now, baby," he commanded softly. "This time with me. Together. Fly with me."
His voice was hoarse, insistent, triggering the massive quake in her body. It rolled through her so hard even her stomach spasmed. There wasn't a single cell in her body that didn't feel the strength of the tidal wave as it ripped through her. She opened her mouth to scream her pleasure, but even her throat convulsed.
Her body flew apart, not her own, but he was there, surrounding her, holding her close to him, his breath warm on her back, his lips against the snug place where he wanted the tattoo. He nuzzled her with his rough, shadowed jaw.
"You better, Kitten? Need more? Because I can do more."
She took a breath. She needed more from him. Not sex. Not making love, and he had made love to her, as rough and as aggressive as he was, she felt it.
"Tell me, baby. Don't ever be afraid to ask me for anything you need," he whispered. His teeth nipped the nape of her neck. His tongue followed, easing the slight ache.
"Hold me for a minute, Eli. I want you to hold me while I tell you this. And don't ask me to look at you. I know you prefer that, my eyes on yours, but I can't do that, not when I tell you this. It . . . shames me."
Eli allowed his body to slip from hers. She shuddered as his cock dragged over her sensitive little bud, the knot of nerves that were already screaming in bliss. He stood carefully and reached down for her, lifting his face for a moment to the rain. The storm had lessened in strength, the lightning moving off to the south. Still, their hair was plastered to their faces, hers down her back in a long sweep.
He drew her into the shelter of his body gently, holding her face to his chest. "You never have to be ashamed of anything you feel, Catarina," he assured. "Just talk to me. Let me help you."
She pressed her burning face into muscles cut so deeply in his abdomen. Her arms circled his waist and she held on tightly.
"I don't want to hurt him any more than I already have. He's so alone, and it breaks my heart that I couldn't make him different. That I couldn't make him better. I wasn't strong enough, or smart enough. Nothing I did helped him, and I tried. I know I'm not responsible for the terrible things he's done, but still, I feel if I could have been just a little better at caring for him, I could have helped him. That's the reason. That's why I don't want to help anyone hurt him."
She made the confession in a small, muffled voice. Eli could hear the tears.
"I wanted him to love me. He was all I had. I tried so hard but I could never do anything right and I could never take away his rage that always burned just below the surface. Only hurting others ever did that. When I knew he was going out and something terrible was going to happen, I tried to hold him there. It never worked. He'd grow worse, pacing, snarling, scaring me and everyone else. Eventually he'd go and when he came back, it was the only time he looked at peace. Relaxed. It never lasted."
Eli kept his mouth closed tightly, wanting her to tell him everything. The level of trust she had for him was growing or she never would have told him such a deeply private emotion she was clearly mortified of having.
"I feel guilty and ashamed that I couldn't help him. He needed me, Eli. He really did. I don't care what anyone says. He needed me and I let him down. All those people died because I couldn't help him."
Okay. That was enough. He caught her chin firmly in his hand and tipped her face up to his even as he bent his head. He captured her mouth, effectively silencing her. He kissed her over and over. Long, hot kisses, demanding her response. He didn't let her breathe. Instead he breathed for both of them, exchanging air, exchanging breath. Making love to her with his mouth. Telling her what she meant to him in one of the few ways he was good at expressing his love to her.
When he lifted his head, both of their faces were wet and he put it down to the rain, although he suspected it was something altogether different.
"I love you, Catarina, because of the kind, generous soul and heart you have. Cordeau loves you in his own way, but you and I both know he's beyond saving. A child couldn't possibly have saved him anymore than an adult could now. He allowed his leopard to get the upper hand, probably when he was very young and things were happening around him he couldn't control. Abuse isn't an excuse for any of us. We can feel sad for the person, but there are many abused people who choose not to go down that path. You can't sacrifice yourself, Kitten, it would be useless. He won't change and he wouldn't, maybe couldn't, when you were a child."
"How do you know?"
"Because he knew you are leopard. A shifter. A female. He had a treasure, a rare, precious treasure and if he was going to stop himself from that kind of behavior, he would have done it then. He knew, deep down, he couldn't have both. You aren't corrupt. You don't have a hint of madness in you. You're sweet and loving and generous. You're too compassionate for your own good and that meant your leopard was the same way. He knew that. He saw that and he still didn't stop. He never will, and his behavior, his choices, have nothing to do with you."
Eli brushed her upturned mouth gently. "You don't have to help us bring him down, Cat. That's my job, not yours."
She moved even closer to the heat of his body. "He feels invincible. Terrifying. I don't want you anywhere near him." She shuddered against him.
Eli caught the long sweep of hair in his hand, wrapped the thick mass around his wrist and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up at him. "You persist in thinking of him the way you did when you were a child. You bested him. Do you realize that? You outsmarted him. Do you have any idea how intelligent you have to be to do that? You lived in his house, right under his nose, and you educated yourself using his personal computer and he never suspected."
She opened her mouth to refute his statement and he tugged on her scalp until she quieted.
"Do you have any idea what courage you have? Grown men didn't leave his organization because they feared him. Witnesses refused to testify against him because they feared him. You escaped, more than once. You tried repeatedly. You risked everything when others refused to. What does that say about you, Catarina?"
She moistened her lips and then tugged her lower lip between her teeth. He had no choice but to sweep his tongue across that temptation.
"Kitten, when he comes for you, and tries to intimidate you, tries to make you feel less than him, look him in the eye and believe in yourself the way I believe in you. See yourself
the way I see you. You'll have nothing to fear. You're prepared. And I promise you, I'll be coming to help you. I'll come."
She knew he would come. He saw the knowledge in her eyes.
She nodded slowly. "I told you all this, Eli, because I know I have to help you and Jake. Thank you for saying I didn't have to, but I know I do. I can't allow him to keep killing people. The businesses he has are bad enough, and the men he associates with are equally horrible. The bottom line is, I have to help or I'm just as bad as he is. Tell Jake I'll give him names, dates and as many deals as I can remember. I have bank account numbers as well."
Eli felt a rush of pride for her. He knew how difficult the decision had to have been on her. His fingers gentled in her hair, moving through the silken strands to ease the ache in her scalp.
"Baby, what I asked of you, helping us, that doesn't come from having been an agent. I don't want you to think, even for a moment, that I would trade what we have for anything. Or use it against you. I love you. If you can't do this, I understand."
He watched her eyes change. They went from a beautiful soft blue to a deep cobalt, almost violet. He saw her so clearly. The cat in her. The love in her--for him. His heart jerked hard and his stomach twisted. He brought his mouth down on hers, all the while falling into her eyes. At the last moment, her lashes swept down, thick crescents that veiled her soul, but it was too late. He'd already seen. He already knew.
She'd given him a gift. She kept giving to him. Eli kissed her gently, and then fiercely. Ferociously. Like the prime male leopard he was. Dominant and aggressive, he took her mouth, pouring himself into her. He was possessive and he knew it. He could be jealous and he had a hell of a temper. But he had this for her. Love so intense, so passionate, every time he looked into her eyes the emotion overwhelmed him. And it continued to grow in him.
Her arms stole around his neck, her mouth moving under his. There in the rain, he took her again, lifting her, urging her legs around his waist, settling her over his cock, her sheath a scorching, tight glove of silk wrapping him up the way her legs did.
He was a little wild. A little out of control. He loved feeling her breasts pressed so tight into him. Her head tipped back and her long hair, now soaked with water, hung down her back like a dark pelt. The rain sizzled on their hot sensitive skin, lending the sensation of a thousand tongues lapping gently at them.