"Feehan, Christine - Leopard 02 - Wild Rain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feehan Christine)

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Christine Feehan

In spite of the river flooding, in spite of all his careful precautions, it
appeared as though the enemy had circled around to get in front of him and lay
in wait in his own home. A very stupid and costly mistake.

The cats approached from either side, slinking along the ground, moving toward
the trees where the house was located. Rio shrugged out of his pack, easing it
onto the ground against a thick tree trunk. All the while he stayed low, knowing
he would be difficult to see in the driving rain. The wind howled and moaned
through the trees, shaking leaves and hurling small twigs and branches in every
direction. He remained still, studying the house for a long moment. A thin trail
of smoke rose from the chimney to be dissipated quickly in the high canopy. A
dim flickering light cast from a low fire onto the woven blankets hanging over
the windows could be glimpsed through the ever-moving foliage. There was no
movement in the cabin. Whoever had been sent to assassinate him was either
certain he was still a good distance away, or they had set an enticing trap. Rio
hissed between his teeth to draw the attention of the cats, gave a hand signal,
a quick flick with his fingers and the three of them, like dark phantoms,
scouted the ground below the trees for whatever tracks the fierce rain had not
obliterated.

They moved in an ever-tightening circle until they gained the large network of
roots and branches. Rio's muscles bunched, contracted, rippled beneath the layer
of skin as he leapt into the tree, landing in a crouch with perfect balance. The
cats crept silently into the thick network of tree branches to gain the
verandah. The branches were slick from the downpour, but the trio of hunters
maneuvered up to the house with familiar ease. Rio tested the door. Finding
resistance, he drew the knife from the leather sheath concealed between his
shoulder blades. In the flash of lightning, the long, wicked razor-sharp metal
gleamed brightly. He slipped the blade in the crack of the door and

WILD RAIN

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slowly, inch by inch, forced the heavy metal bar on the inside upward.
As the door opened, then closed furtively, the sudden cold draft sent the flames
of the fire blazing high, dancing and crackling before settling back down. Rio
waited a heartbeat for his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. He moved
stealthily across the wide expanse of floor, carefully placing his feet,
avoiding every squeaking board. A shadowy figure moved restlessly on the bed.
Rio went to the floor, on his belly even as the wildness flared in him, ripping
through his body, heightening his senses. His skin itched, his bones aching and
his muscles contorting. He fought it back, forcing his brain to work, to think,
to reason when his body sought to embrace the change. For a moment his hand
rippled with life, with fur, fingers bursting as claws clicked on the wooden
floor, then retracted painfully.