Rachael's head snapped up. She glared at the old man. "Who did you say was civilized?" She asked sweetly.
"Hafelina." There was more love than reprimand in the single endearment.
Little cat. She knew it now. Knew what he called her. The long-forgotten language was one she distantly remembered from her childhood and it was beginning to come back to her.
Elijah sat up very straight, a frown on his face. He shook his head but remained silent as the older man came into the room. There was a dignity about him that demanded respect.
"Don't reprimand her for speaking her mind or defending you, Rio," the elder said. "She is a woman of courage and integrity. I am no longer a member of the council, but I am bound by our laws. I'll do my best to change what was decreed, but I face punishment for my actions. I wish that I'd taken action some time ago instead of waiting until a personal crisis happened. I'll send word of Drake's condition immediately. Don't get up, I'll shift on the verandah. My pack is out there." He smiled at Rachael. "I am blessed I had such an opportunity to meet you and exchange ideas." His gaze went to Elijah. "Your sister has taught an old man it is never too late to right a wrong. You know the right path."
Elijah gripped the arms of the chair hard, nails digging deep. "There is no redemption for what I've done."
Delgrotto smiled. "Even the sacred high council can be wrong. Who can measure the worth of a man but his own sense of honor?"
Elijah looked away from the warmth in those old eyes. "If I can't forgive myself, how would I ever accept forgiveness from others?"
"No council can turn away the request of asylum, of sanctuary. It matters little where you were born. There are few true shifters left in this world. We can't afford to lose any of them." The elder moved into the shadows of the verandah, shedding his clothes and packing them carefully in the traditional leather bag he strapped around his neck before shifting.
There was a long silence. Rachael sighed. "I really wanted to detest that man."
"He's a good man," Rio said. "He's right to believe in the laws that govern our people. We can't be judged by human standards and we can't take our problems to the police. We have to protect and patrol our own ranks."
"I see what's going on here," Elijah said. "Only a man who has found his mate refers to her as sestrilla or hafelina. You can't have Rachael. You can't possibly protect her from Armando. I didn't keep her alive this entire time to let her die out here in this jungle."
There was a whip to his voice and Rachael winced visibly. Ignoring Elijah, she took a bowl of the vegetable soup and a cup of coffee to Rio. "Eat all of it, you need it," she encouraged. "And don't give me any guff over your precious elder. He isn't a bad man, he's just not as wise as a woman."
Elijah groaned. "Don't get her started with the women being superior to men argument, we'll get nowhere with this. Rachael, you can't stay. I can tell you feel something for this man, but you can't stay."
"I'm in love with him, Elijah." Rachael said it quietly, staring into her brother's eyes as she handed him a bowl of soup.
"Damn it, Rachael."
Rachael huffed out her breath in exasperation. "Why is it men always say that to me? I seem to bring out swearing in the male species."
She curled up across from Elijah, settling on the arm of Rio's chair, her arms curving around his neck. She had to touch him, her fingers smoothing his shaggy hair. She wanted to inspect his body and make certain there were no scratches to get infected in the humidity of the forest. She had to be content with teasing the nape of his neck with her fingers.
Rio exchanged a long look of understanding with Elijah. "I understand completely, she tends to make me swear too." He followed the admission with a yelp when she tugged at his hair. "I'm Rio, by the way, Rio Santana."
"You'll have to come back where I can protect you too, then. I have soldiers. My home is a fortress. I can keep you both safe. I live near the Glades so you'll be able to run free when the need strikes." Elijah stared at Rio hard, his gaze piercing and focused, a mixture of promised retaliation and challenge.
"You may be able to protect Rachael there, but I can do just as good a job or better here," Rio replied mildly. He leaned his head back into the strong massage of her fingers. "Before you get all bent out of shape, has it occurred to you that you need to do something different? Something unexpected? Your uncle knows you. He raised you. He knows how your mind works. But he doesn't know how my mind works. He doesn't even know about me."
Rachael nuzzled the top of Rio's head with her chin. Her breasts brushed the side of his face, soft and warm and inviting when he was bone weary. "You need to sleep, Rio. I can feel how tired you are."
"Armando will not come to this place."
"Sure he will. If the stakes are high enough. If he thinks he has a chance to win the game for good. It isn't all that hard to find someone to bribe to leak vital information. He has to have someone in his pay, someone who can supply him with information. It could even be some of the bandits. They'd want to collect from both sides."
Rio drank the remainder of the soup and put the bowl on a small end table. His hand found Rachael's. At once he brought her fingers to his mouth. All the time he watched Elijah.
Elijah regarded him through half-closed eyes. "You're thinking to feed him information on Rachael. Something that will bring him here to make certain the job is done right. He'd want to know it's finished. He'd want to know she was dead and he'd want me to know it."
Rio nodded. "There are bandits up and down the river. Some are fairly decent men, just trying to make a living. There are one or two tribes who would be willing to give us aid here and there. This is my realm, not his. He's infiltrated South America; I doubt he's had time here."
"Duncan knew the layout of the house," Rachael said. "Someone told him."
"Not necessarily. Delgrotto knew nothing of Duncan. As an elder, all information of importance is brought before the council. A member of our species unknown to us would be considered of great importance. I doubt if Duncan had any contact with anyone from my people. He was a shifter and he knew shifters populated this area. He listened to Tomas and his men, gathered information on my team and guessed we were shifters. As a leopard, he could easily find the scents and track us, where as a man, he would find it impossible. Most importantly, Duncan didn't have time to get this information to Armando. He was captured by bandits and then he came nosing around here, looking for Rachael. He found me instead."
Elijah rubbed his jaw. "So your idea is to bring Armando here."
"Rachael isn't going back. She's my woman. You know the legends, and you can call them myths if you like, but I know she's supposed to be with me and the only way you're going to take her from me is over my dead body."
Elijah shrugged his broad shoulders. "It wouldn't be the first time."
Rachael knocked a heavy book to the floor. It hit with a thud and brought an abrupt silence. "If you both keep it up," she hissed between bared teeth, "I'm dumping the rest of the soup over your heads. Get some brain cells working here, you two. I love you both. Posturing and threatening each other isn't winning any points with me. In fact, it's downright irritating." Rachael snatched her hand back from Rio and caught up the empty soup bowl. "Elijah, you want coffee or not?"
"Are you going to dump it in my lap?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Then I think I'll pass until you get over your little..." he broke off abruptly as Rio frantically signaled him to silence.
Rachael turned to glare at her brother. "I know you weren't going to accuse me of being moody--or temperamental. You deserve an entire pot of coffee in your lap. You should have talked to me. I'm a grown woman, not a child to be protected. I know exactly what Armando's capable of and I knew you had no choice but to try to get rid of him if either of us was going to have a chance at a normal life." She swung around to include Rio in her displeasure. "If you ever get a thick-headed notion to go all silent and macho on me, please just get over it fast.
I'm likely to smack you with another stick if you do."
Elijah's eyebrow shot up. "She smacked you with a stick?"
"Gave me a scar," Rio said proudly and swept back his black hair to reveal the jagged white line. "Right on the temple too. She nearly took my head off."
"She knows what she's doing," Elijah confirmed. "And she hits like a man, but she can't cook very well."
"I'm a good cook," Rachael said, outraged. "I'm a very good cook. I can't help it if you don't like anything other than rice and beans. And no spices."
"There's such a thing as too much spice," Elijah said.
Rio grinned wickedly at Rachael. "Oh, I don't know, Elijah, you might be missing out. Live a little."
Rachael groaned and rinsed the dishes, but she was smiling again. The man had a sinful mouth and he had a way of putting fantasies in her head at the most inopportune times.
Rio leaned back in his chair. "The elder had a good idea. If you went to the village and asked for asylum, they'd have to give it to you. You'd be placed under the protection of our lair. It just gives us more people to count on our side."