Leopard's Prey (42 page)

“Voodoo,” Remy said softly. “He was a believer.”

“Go into the dinin’ room and eat,” Saria said. “Both of you. And you too, Bijou.”

Remy followed Gage into the dining room and sat down at the ornate dining table. Of course Saria had made a big breakfast for them. She always made certain the men in her house had food, a leftover habit from taking care of her father, or maybe it was more likely she enjoyed cooking and feeding her family.

“Yes, he had faith, but he should have gone to Eulalie and to us. We found a recorder in his vents, motion-activated. Voices whisperin’ to him to kill himself,” Gage said. “The Rousseau brothers took out a little insurance to make certain their legend grew in the eyes of the voodoo community.” He sat across from Remy and reached immediately for the trout.

“I would say that means they’re still around. We have to figure out where they are before they get out of town and become someone else’s nightmare,” Remy suggested. He scooped up trout and added poached eggs and hollandaise sauce from the silver warmers set in the middle of the table.

“Fresh-squeezed orange juice,” Saria announced, putting two wineglasses filled with the juice in front of her brothers. “Drink it. Neither one of you is gettin’ any sleep, and if you’re going to catch all the criminals lurking around the bayou, you’d better be in shape.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gage said, and dutifully downed the orange juice in one long gulp. “Where’s our esteemed leader?”

Saria pressed her lips together and looked away.

“Saria?” Remy dropped his voice to that one note no one ever disobeyed.

She took a deep breath and poured herself a glass of orange juice, clearly stalling. “When Gage called this mornin’ and said the Rousseau brothers were gone, he went into the swamp in the hope of tracking them,” she admitted, carefully not looking at either brother.

“And he didn’t think it was necessary for him to have backup?” Remy demanded, his fork halting inches from his mouth.

“Of course he had backup. He said forensics hasn’t come out yet with the theory of animal fur and leopard paw prints, so if they were careful, they might be able to have somethin’ for you within an hour or so.”

Remy lifted an eyebrow. “Lojos and Mahieu, I presume?”

Saria nodded. “He said you and Gage were workin’ on a couple of hours of sleep and the lair needed to help out. He called the others and told them to be watchful, but not to actively hunt.”

“And Dash. What is he doin’?” Remy asked shrewdly. “Bijou, don’ just drink coffee. Eat breakfast,” he added, and scooped trout and eggs onto a warm plate.

Bijou, curled up on her chair sipping at her coffee, looked startled. “I’m not hungry.”

“Be hungry,” he said. “Saria? What the hell does Drake have Dash doin’?”

“He’s on guard duty,” she said. “Bijou, you have bites all over your neck.”

Remy couldn’t stop his gaze from finding Bijou, even when he knew his sister was trying to throw him off track. A faint blush stole up her cheeks. She looked thoroughly loved. Taken. Claimed. Her hair tumbled down her back in a blue-black cloud, held loosely by a single clip at the nape of her neck. She wore soft blue jeans riding low on her hips and a cotton top of pale pink that wasn’t quite pink but probably had some girlie name like
mauve
that complemented her skin perfectly. Both hands cupped her coffee mug, holding it in front of her like a shield.

“Blue, we need to put a ring on that finger soon.” Remy made it a statement. A blue stone. Sapphire or blue diamond. He had plenty of money saved. He could spend it on a suitable ring for her.

Her blush deepened. “I thought the subject was what your brother was doin’, not us.”

He grinned at her and held out a fork. “Just in case you’re pregnant and eatin’ for two. And just so you know, you’re always on my mind.”

She took the proffered fork, more, he was certain, to get the attention off of her, than to eat much. Gage didn’t help by grinning from ear to ear like a baboon. Even Saria smirked a little behind her hand.

“Keep it up, Gage,” Bijou hissed between her teeth. “You’re close enough that I could get you with this fork.”

“I’m not laughin’ at you, Bijou. It’s just that my brother has it
so
bad. He’s like a crazy man right now, and it’s just really fun for me. Not to mention, when he’s bossin’ you, he forgets all about bossin’ the rest of us.”

Remy chose dignity. It was the only course of action when his brother might be stating a fact. He scooped up a couple of
couche-couche
, a Cajun-style fried cornmeal mush that Saria always made to his liking, and ignored Gage altogether.

“So where exactly is Dash at the present time?” Remy asked his sister after downing more trout. “Is he watching over you while Drake is gone?”

“Sort of,” Saria sounded a bit mischievous.

Remy sat up very straight. “Did Drake leave him behind to guard me?”

Saria nodded, the amusement fading from her dark eyes. “He’s worried the Rousseau brothers will come after you and Gage, and, Remy, before you explode, it makes sense. You and Gage are relentless when you’re trackin’ someone. Everyone knows that. You’re the ones who ruined things for them. They think they’re unbelievably clever, and they believed they were invincible, that no one would dare testify against them. The two of you brought them down and they aren’t the type to go quietly into the night.”

Bijou made a small sound of distress and leaned toward him. “I
told
you.”

Remy reached out and took her hand, bringing it under the table onto his thigh. His thumb slid back and forth in a soothing caress. He didn’t need her upset or worried about him. He thought he’d dodged the bullet when he’d thrown her off with his assurances earlier.

“Did you tell Drake that?” Remy asked. His sister had always been intelligent and she thought like a lawman.

“I may have started the conversation,” Saria said, unrepentant.

Bijou caught Remy’s hand beneath the table to still his fingers. He could feel the slight tremble, but when he looked at her, she had her chin up.

“I told you, Blue, the chances are slim that they’re that stupid. These boys are locally bred. They know our reputations, and they aren’t goin’ to risk their lives and freedoms by getting anywhere near us.”

She was leopard. There was no hiding anything from a leopard, not once they knew you, and Bijou was beginning to know him very well.

“You think they’ll come for you,” she said. “You told me you’d never lie to me.”

Remy shook his head. “No,
chere
, I
don’
think they’re that stupid. I’m not saying the thought didn’t cross my mind, and maybe I was a little wishful, but from everything I’ve seen of them, these are smart boys. They aren’t goin’ to mess with us.”

She relaxed a little, letting out her breath. “Just be careful, Remy. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Gage complained.

Saria laughed. “Not exactly, brother. You’re the clever one who pegged the Rousseaus for the break-ins.”

“No one beats up the elderly on my turf,” Gage snapped, the smile fading from his face.

Remy looked away quickly. He was proud of Gage, more than proud of the man his brother had become. Gage carried the confidence of the people in his parish for a reason. “No, they don’t, brother,” he murmured and raised his coffee cup.

The sound of a leopard roaring nearly shook the house, sending chills down Remy’s spine. He dove at Bijou, knocking her from her chair, taking her to the floor as Gage did the same to their sister. The bullet went straight through the dining room window, through the picture on the far wall so that glass splintered and sprayed down.

“That was Dash callin’ out a warning,” Remy hissed. “Move, crawl to the kitchen. Stay low. Saria, there’s a safer room in your quarters. Take Bijou and go there, but both of you be ready to shift if you have to. You have guns stashed, Saria?”

Saria nodded. “I prefer my knife.”

“There’s the saying about don’t take a knife to a gunfight,” Gage pointed out. “We’ll leave Dash to watch over you. Hopefully Drake and the boys are on their way back.”

Remy pushed Bijou’s bottom lower as she began to crawl after Saria. “Use your elbows and toes to propel yourself forward.”

Gage pushed the dining room door open to allow them to pass through. Two more bullets hit the door.

“Where are you going?” Bijou asked as they scuttled through.

“Hunting,” Remy said grimly. “It’s what I do best.” He put his hand on her bottom and shoved. “Keep moving. Get into Saria’s main livin’ quarters.”

“You can’t go after him as a leopard,” Saria protested. “He has a gun.”

“A sniper rifle to be precise,” Remy said. “And don’ worry about me. Be worried about him. He could have shot you or Bijou. You don’ mess with a man’s family.”

They crawled through the kitchen to Saria’s side of the Inn. She had a comfortable three-bedroom home attached to the Inn. On the wall nearest the kitchen, a small hutch was in the entry way. Gage and Remy got to their feet and quickly moved the hutch, opening the entrance to the passageway behind it. Saria scrambled in with Bijou close behind.

Remy caught Bijou’s shirt with his fist and pulled her to him. “Please, this one time, for me, do as Saria says. She knows the swamp like the back of her hand. She can lead you safely out of here. Don’ try to help us. Gage and I will take care of the problem. Dash will have alerted the other leopards and they’ll come runnin’ to protect you and Saria. Just follow Saria’s lead.”

Bijou nodded solemnly, her eyes enormous. She leaned in to brush a kiss over his mouth. There was no crying. No hysterics. No pleading. Just her quiet acceptance – and her trust in him. Faith and trust were priceless gifts. He wasn’t about to let her down.

“Be safe,” she whispered against his mouth.

Remy kissed her again and then moved away from her down the passage, all business. He stripped off his shirt as he went, removed his gun and zipped it into the pack every leopard carried, adding a few extra magazines, giving him plenty of ammunition for a war should he need it. He left his shoes and jeans by the entrance to the swamp.

The passageway was covered mostly by plants and trees and a lot of stonework, but few knew of its existence outside the family, so he was fairly certain no one was waiting. Remy shifted, allowing his large black leopard to take over. His sense of smell was acute and he would find the shooter quickly.

Gage was right behind him, and as they emerged into the damp swamp, he gave Remy room, flanking him and shifting to his left side. Almost at once, the leopard scented the intruder and the rank smell of gunpowder. Snarling, the cat went low, slinking along the ground, using its fluid, flexible spine and its large cushioned paws to move silently. He didn’t disturb a single leaf or branch of a bush. There was not the slightest of warnings that the male leopard was anywhere in the swamp.

Remy glanced sideways and saw that Gage’s cat had also gone to ground. Their quarry was up above them, in the crook of a cypress tree, but there was a second man, presumably spotting for the first. The stench of the Rousseau brothers filled his nostrils. The large cat snarled silently and began his approach, a freeze-frame motion, stalking his prey.

“I can’t see anything,” Juste reported. “We should get out of here.”

“They’re pinned down,” Jean snapped.

“They can get out the front of the house, and no doubt they’ve called in reinforcements. We’ll have helicopters looking for us,” Juste said, the voice of reason.

“I say we go to the house and put a bullet in their heads. I want to kill the whole damn family. Wipe them out. And then I’ll take my time with the women and beat them with my hands. It’s been too long since I’ve had that pleasure,” Jean said, and wiped his mouth as if the very thought made him drool in anticipation.

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” Juste laughed, but his voice was strained. “Jean, we’ve got to go while we can. We’ll come back and kill them, but not now.”

The cat slipped through the brush until he was within striking distance. Smoldering intelligence shined in the focused stare. Remy’s leopard had marked his target. He would take the one in the tree, and Gage’s leopard, already moving into position, would go after the man already on the ground.

It was impossible to see either leopard. Gage’s spots helped him to blend into the vegetation easily, and Remy’s leopard had sunk so low to the ground and moved with astonishing nearly frozen, almost imperceptible increments that he blended even when he was slightly exposed. The leopards had great patience, waiting motionless, eyes and minds completely focused on their unsuspecting prey.

Inch by inch they crawled forward and then froze, belly to ground, stalking the hunters. Gage was so close to Juste he could have reached out and touched him. He waited for Remy to get into position. Jean was in the tree, lying in the crook of a branch, sniper rifle at the ready, aimed at the Inn. Remy would have to leap, using his superior weight and the force of his strike to knock Jean out of the tree and away from his rifle.

Jean glanced down at his brother, reluctance on his face. “This is such bullshit, Juste, they just got lucky.” He began to pull his rifle from where he had it steadied on the tree branch.

The leopard hit him with the force of a freight train right in the chest, knocking him backward out of the tree, breaking bones, the hot breath of death in his face as the cat followed him to the ground and landed on him, teeth sinking deep in his throat.

They stared at one another. Pitiless, golden-green eyes focused solely on Jean’s terrified, shocked brown ones. The leopard’s suffocating bite went deep as the cat clamped down relentlessly. Jean thrashed, hitting helplessly at the creature that held him so easily with teeth and claws.

Behind him and just in the corner of his vision, the spotted leopard had hit Juste from the side with the same ferocious and calculated intensity as the black leopard had Jean. He held Juste in the same suffocating bite. Jean had his head turned toward Juste, but already the light faded from his eyes.