Rachael gave up the idea of being a true heroine straight out of the movies. She’d been trying bravado just to concentrate on anything beside the excruciating pain in her leg, but he wasn’t helping with his tiny little needlework. It felt like he was sawing at her leg with a dull blade. She couldn’t just grab the pillow and suffocate herself because her hand wasn’t working properly. She could hear someone crying. An obnoxious, annoying sound that wouldn’t stop. A high keening kept breaking her concentration, making it impossible to lie still.

Grim-faced, Rio held her down as he worked. He was grateful when she finally succumbed to the pain, lying motionless, her breathing rapid, her pulse pounding. Her soft moaning set his teeth on edge. Ate at his heart. “Damn you, Fritz. Did you have to take her leg off?” It took him close to an hour in the dim light, tiny stitches, working on the inside. Straightening, he sighed, wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his hands, smearing her blood over the stubble on his face. Now he could add torturing women to his long list of sins.

He brushed back her hair, frowning down at her white face. “Don’t you die on me,” he ordered, feeling for her pulse. She’d lost a lot of blood and her skin was clammy. She was going into shock. “Who are you?” He dragged blankets over her and built the fire back up to heat a large pot of water and added a smaller kettle to make coffee. It was going to be a long night and he needed a boost.

The cats lay near the fire, already asleep, but woke when Rio examined them for injuries. He murmured to them, nonsense really, showing his affection for them roughly as he removed parasites and ruffled their fur. He never admitted to himself he felt affection for them, but it always pleased him when they chose to remain with him. Fritz yawned, showing his long sharp teeth. Franz nudged him sleepily. Normally playful, the two leopards were worn out.

As he washed his hands, Rio became aware of how uncomfortable his soaked clothing was. Every muscle in his body ached now that he was allowing himself time to think about it. He had to clean and stitch his own wounds, and the prospect wasn’t a pleasant one. His pack was still outside lying against a tree trunk and he needed the contents of the larger medical kit he always carried.