Rio moved into the room, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor as he studied the rafters above his head. He leapt, catching one of the beams and swinging his body into position.

Conner crossed to Isabeau’s side, crouching down beside her, gently reaching for her. He made certain to keep his movements slow and deliberate. “Tell me, Isabeau,” he instructed.

A sob escaped and she pressed her fingers to her trembling mouth, moving back to make herself smaller. Conner let his gaze slide over her, looking for the worst of the injuries. She had blood on her shirt over her breasts and more was seeping through the material at the junction of her legs. His heart began to pound in alarm.

“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?”