Leopard 04 - Wild Fire

this but you have to do what I say.”
    She didn’t have much choice. If she stayed where she was, she was going to get shot. She nodded, setting her jaw.
    He laid down a spray of cover fire and hissed “Go!” over his shoulder.
    Isabeau scrambled to her feet and began to sprint to her right in a low crouch. It was easier than she thought, her cat nimble, moving over the uneven ground without hesitation. Once on her feet and in motion, the song of the forest was in her veins again. It was a little more chaotic and frantic, but her senses were acute enough that she could sort out her surroundings even while she ran.
    She knew there were only animals ahead of her. She never heard Conner coming up behind her, but she caught the leap of her cat reacting to him. Stupid cat. Didn’t it know he was more dangerous to them than any fire? She hated the surge of relief she felt at his presence, but told herself it was because without him, she didn’t stand a chance of getting out of the situation alive. She resisted the urge to glance at him over her shoulder just to reassure herself that he was really there in his solid, masculine form. He gave her confidence, when he shouldn’t have.
    With the world around them turning a red-orange glow against the setting sun and the sound of the wind whipping through the trees generated by the fire itself, she felt more animal than human as she raced through the brush.
    Conner caught the back of her shirt and halted her abruptly. “Here. We go up here. They won’t be looking for us in the canopy. They’re shooting blindly to drive us into another group. We can’t be caught in a crossfire.”
    She was barely breathing hard, even after the hard run, her lungs and heart working more like the cat than the woman. She looked up the long tree trunk. The first branches were a good thirty feet above her head. “Are you crazy?” She took a step back. “I can’t climb that.”
    “Yes, you can. You’re powerful and strong, Isabeau. You’ve lived one life cycle already as a cat—with me. It will come back to you. Trust your cat and let her loose. She won’t fully emerge, but she’ll get you up the tree.”
    “Have I ever mentioned, I have a problem with heights?”
    “Do you have a problem with bullets?”
    She blinked up at him, realized he was teasing her and sent him a scowl. “That’s not funny.” But at his raised eyebrow, a small smile managed to sneak through. He didn’t look worried at all. He looked at her as if he believed she could do the impossible.
    She took a breath and looked up the long tree trunk. It was covered in ropes of vines, a multitude of flowers and fungus. “How?”
    He smiled at her, his teeth flashing white. “Good girl. I knew you’d do it.”
    She swore his canines might have been a little longer, a little sharper than they’d been before and ran her tongue over her own teeth just to check. They seemed normal enough and she was almost disappointed.
    His smile sent a flare of pride singing through her veins, and that was not tolerable so she kept her attention on the tree. “Then you know more than I do. Tell me how.”
    “Take off your shoes, tie them around your neck.”
    She hesitated, but he was already doing as he advised and she reluctantly followed suit, stuffing her socks inside the shoes and tying laces together so she could hang them around her neck. She felt silly, but she stood up and stood awkwardly waiting.
    “Tell me how this works first.”

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    “I’ll be right behind you. You’ve seen cats climb. They use their claws to anchor themselves on the trunk.
    Leopards are enormously strong. You have her claws and her strength.”
    She held out her hands to him. “Does it look like I have claws?”
    He took her hand in his, turning it, examining it. Her hand looked small and a little lost in his. His touch was gentle, but when she involuntarily tried to pull away, he tightened his grip, preventing her escape. His fixed gaze holding hers, he lifted her fingertips to his face, deliberately brushing the pads of her fingers into the four grooves there, following the scars from one end to the other. “You have claws.”
    She moistened her lips again, her heart thudding. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t know.” She hated that she apologized; he deserved the scars, but she was still ashamed of the violence, of the way she’d been so duped, of the