“Franz, stay alert,” he ordered as he gathered Fritz into his arms. Rio had to keep pressure on the two puncture wounds as he raced through the forest, weaving his way between the trees, leaping over fallen logs, splashing through two small swollen streams, covering the uneven terrain as fast as he could. He was built much like a leopard with muscles meant for carrying large prey. He didn’t feel the burden of the clouded leopard, but in his human form, his skin was not nearly as tough as in his animal form and the forest tore up his flesh as he rushed through it.

Rio leapt upon the wide low-hanging branch leading to his home with the ease of long practice and, balancing carefully, made his way along the maze of branches until he gained the verandah. He called out to warn Rachael, hoping she wouldn’t shoot him as he shoved open the door with his hip. Fritz, nestled so close to him, turned his head to look up at him in silent fear. The small leopard’s sides were heaving, straining for air, too much blood matting his fur.

Rachael gasped, thrusting the gun beneath the pillow. “What happened? What can I do?” Rio’s face was a dangerous mask, fierce, warriorlike, his eyes alive with anger. He turned the full power of his unblinking stare on her, assessing her condition. Rachael met his piercing gaze steadily. “Really, Rio, let me help you.”

He immediately switched directions, bringing the injured animal to the bed. “Can you sit up all the way by yourself?”

Rachael didn’t bother with speech. She simply showed him, making certain to keep her expression serene when her heart was pounding and pain made her sick. She’d had enough practice hiding fear. The cat was badly injured and therefore far more dangerous than in its normal state. Her mouth went dry as he placed the animal in her lap and guided, first one hand, then the other to the puncture wounds. Rachael found herself with a fifty-pound leopard in her lap and her hands pressing into its neck covered in blood.

Rio lit the lamp and brought his surgical supplies to the bed, kneeling down close to the animal’s head. “Be still, Fritz,” he murmured, “I know it hurts, but we’ll get you fixed up.” He didn’t look at Rachael, but worked on the animal, his hands gentle, steady and very sure.