PrimalFlavor (23 page)

The game warden turned back to her, his lips white with
rage, but he still walked to her cage, the jackal shifters on his heels. She
didn’t know why she felt so betrayed by Roscoe. If he was a federal agent, how
could he do this to her? Let these men inside with her? When he reached back to
his belt and the keys attached to it, Colette thought she was going to be sick.
Adrenaline surged through her system, her fight-or-flight instinct kicking into
overdrive, but there was nowhere for her to go and she had nothing to fight
with.

The lock clicked open and Vernon stepped into the cage,
Antoine right behind him. There was no mistaking what they planned to do to
her. Colette tensed, ready to throw herself at them, maybe with the thought
that she could make them kill her before the rape started, but before she did
more than take a deep breath, Duet appeared behind them.

Vernon’s and Antoine’s eyes widened at the same time Colette
heard a sick, wet sound, their bodies jerking. They fell to the ground like
puppets with their strings cut, revealing Duet standing behind them with their
hearts in his hands. Tiger claws, several inches long, dripped with blood and
gore, but he seemed as calm and relaxed as though he’d just plucked a couple of
oranges off a tree.

He dropped the organs on the now-dead shifters and accepted
the towel Roscoe handed him. “I don’t like rape,” he said primly. “Especially
when two men who claim to be pro-shifter turn their perverted attentions to a
human.” He sniffed and left the cage, locking it behind him. “You won’t be in
there with them for long, Miz Robicheaux. Moonrise is in a few minutes and
you’ll have served your purpose here tonight.”

Zach followed that fucking wolf’s scent as far as he could,
the Robicheaux men behind him, trusting that he would lead them in the right
direction. It’d taken a lot of yelling and chest thumping before the men could
convince Colette’s mother and female relatives that they couldn’t come with
them. It hadn’t been easy looking into Laurette-Marie’s eyes, seeing the same
fear reflected in Zach’s heart, but she’d finally nodded and promised to call
Sheriff Picou.

“You sure this is the way they went?” Willis asked in a
barely audible voice.

He stood next to Zach, decked out in camo, grease paint and
dripping with enough ammo to make a person wonder if Willis Robicheaux was
planning for a zombie apocalypse. Yet he found he couldn’t fault the man for
going all Rambo. Not when Colette’s life might very well depend on it.

He wasn’t even insulted that Willis questioned the direction
they were taking. There was a hint of uncertainty and disbelief in his future
mate-in-law’s voice that told Zach there was something deeper here, something
that would probably explain a lot.

Nodding and testing the air again, Zach tried not to growl
when he caught that elusive shifter scent that had been with the wolf’s since
he caught it at Colette’s house. “Yeah. I don’t know why they didn’t try to
cover their tracks, but this is definitely where they went.” He lifted his
head, catching a scent in the wind that made his hackles rise and his tiger
growl. “I smell a lot of shifters and blood. Lots of blood.”

Willis caught his arm in a tight grip, his fear a sharp,
acrid smell. “Colette’s blood?” he rasped.

Sniffing the air again, Zach shook his head. “No, it belongs
to the shifters who were with the wolf.”

“Maybe they’ll kill each other off before we get there,”
someone in the small crowd muttered, an agreement rippling through the group of
fifteen.

“Willis, you know where we are?” one of the older men in the
group whispered.

Zach looked over to see it was Colette’s Uncle Tudu and his
face was pasty white with fear. “Where are we?” he demanded.

Willis scratched at his cheek. “This is Senator Duet’s land,
right across the Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish line.”

That made the other men in the group, especially Colette’s
cousins, freeze in place. “What?”

Cotton and Beau exchanged a dark look before turning to Zach
with eyes similar to his mate’s. “Once a month, we’d hear screams from this
direction, but we could never find it,” Cotton told him, a grim understanding
in his voice. “It’s been going on for years, but no one’s ever found out where
they start.”

Beau picked up where his brother left off. “We even tried to
tell the sheriff over in Caillou Parish about it, but he said he never heard or
found anything.” He shrugged. “We tried to find it a few times, but never had
any luck.”

Zach felt the blood drain from his face as he listened to
the brothers, his mind recalling what he’d overheard at the sheriff’s office.
“There have been disappearances,” he muttered, silencing all the men. “Several
in Orleans and Jefferson Parish, but always around the full moon.” He met their
gazes with dread coiling in his stomach. “And the women were all human.”

Willis’ face turned stark white as he put two and two
together. “You think they’ve been bringing girls out here? On the senator’s
land?”

He was about to say he knew it when a cacophony of howls,
roars and yips split the night air. Zach froze. Every animal, shifter or
natural recognized those sounds as a call to hunt. It reached deep to the most
primitive instincts and demanded a response, but when he caught the scent of
his mate floating on the breeze, Zach knew exactly what those shifters were
planning to hunt.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered and started running. “They’re
gonna hunt her.”

Between one step and the next, Zach shifted, his tiger
springing from his skin and shredding his clothes. He didn’t even pause to
reassure her family that he would do what he could. He didn’t have to because
he heard them behind him. But his entire focus was on the woman who needed him
ahead.

“Willis,” Frog warned as they saw the tiger disappear
between the trees.

“Split up,” he ordered his sons, brothers, nephews and
cousins. “Frog, you take Cotton and three more to the east. Tudu, you get Beau
and another three and take the west. Alcide, Dan, y’all are with me. We’re
following the tiger.”

“Are we gonna wait for the sheriff to get here?” Tudu asked
even as he began walking away.

Willis met their gazes, doing his best not to show them how
terrified he was. That noise, the roars and howls, had made the hair stand up
on the back of his neck. His daughter, his baby girl was out there with those
shifters who planned to hunt her like a wild animal.

“Shoot first, ask questions later.”

One by one, his kinsmen disappeared into the brush, years of
hunting in these swamps helping them to fade into the darkness. With a sharp
glance at his sons who appeared ready to do what they had to in order to get
their sister back, Willis followed the tiger’s trail. And he prayed.

He prayed as he’d never done before. And when he heard the
first shot, he started running.

* * * * *

Colette cringed as her cage, now empty of the Schumacher
brothers, was towed out of the warehouse and left in the center of a group of
no less than twenty people. No, not people, she corrected herself as she met
wild gazes. They were all shifters. They wore masks to hide their faces and
robes to hide their nakedness, but the eyes glinting at her with cold hunter
didn’t belong to full humans.

And they all stared down at her for a moment before lifting
their rabid gazes to the man who stood on the back of a truck. Colette couldn’t
see his face, but the instant he began to speak, she knew it was Senator Duet.

“Brothers and sisters, welcome to another full moon hunt,”
he called out. “Tonight we celebrate what it is to be a shifter, to give
worship to the powers that make us gods among men. Tonight, we hunt!”

“We hunt!” the crowd shouted back.

Colette recoiled at the sound,
frissons
pebbling her
skin as the air seemed to charge with anticipation. They were fanatics. All of
them.

“Normally we would reward the shifter who brings us a new
sacrifice, but unfortunately, the jackals we’d hoped to bring into Fang and
Claw revealed themselves to be weak and perverted, wishing to soil themselves
with prey,” he spat, pointing to Colette. Several people in the crowd murmured,
disgust plain in their voices. “Our forefathers knew the day would come when
primitive beasts would attempt to rise above shifters. They created Fang and
Claw for this very day, my friends. They knew the time would come when we’d
have to cull the weak from the herd, those who seek to defile their bodies and
their bloodlines with the primitive apes who think they’re better than us.” He
held up his hands to the frenzied group. “I executed them, those jackals who
thought to debase themselves with this filth. May God have mercy on their
souls, for we have none.

“But tonight isn’t all about disappointment in our brethren,
my friends. No, tonight brings us great joy as well for we’re welcoming a new
member to our group,” Duet announced with a wave of his arm to his left.
“Tonight, one of our hardest-working recruiters is joining us in the fight
against the humans who seek to overstep their bounds.” The group applauded as a
new figure joined the group. It was Roscoe who wasn’t wearing a mask, unless
his expressionless face counted. His blue eyes scanned the crowd, pausing here
and there before he looked at Colette. His gaze burned with silent, frigid
fury. “This young man has been instrumental in recruiting some of our finest
hunts and after months of hard work, he’s being rewarded with his very first
hunt.”

The crowd cheered, clapping wildly as Roscoe stepped up to
Duet. “Leave the clothes of man behind,” the senator ordered. The warden
stripped off his clothes until he stood naked in front of everyone. Someone
handed Duet a robe, which was then passed to Roscoe. “Wear this skin as symbol
of your power over the humans. For eons, they have hunted and skinned our
natural brethren for clothing and so we return the favor.”

Colette’s eyes widened, her stomach twisting and churning as
she realized the robes each shifter wore were made of human skin. Her belief
turned to solid proof when she saw the tattoos etched into the robe Roscoe
allowed Duet to settle around his shoulders. She gagged, her stomach rebelling
at the thought of these people skinning humans. Several of the members chuckled
at her, her obvious weakness drawing them closer to her cage.

“And now for your mask,” Duet murmured. “You belong with us,
Coltrane Roscoe. Welcome to Fang and Claw.”

Something about the warden’s name struck a chord in
Colette’s mind, but she was too horrified by what she was witnessing to give it
much attention. The mask the wildlife—no, FBI agent—was handed was made of
human bones. She sensed it more than knew for certain. These weirdoes had no
problem utilizing human skin, so why not use human bones as well? The sick
bastards.

Then Duet turned to the group with his hands raised.
“Brother Roscoe,” he announced loudly.

The crowd let out noises that blended into a hellish
nightmare of sound that bombarded Colette’s ears. Howls, roars, yips and snarls
combined in a frightening musical that caused her primitive instincts to roil
to the surface. It knew this was bad.
No, this is bad, bad.
Her eyes
darted around, searching for a way out. The warehouse they’d held her in was
not an option for escape. The area in front of it wasn’t much better, since
there was a lot of open land.

Then her gaze fell on a tree to her left. Moss draped the
lower branches and some had fallen on the ground at the base of the trunk.
Colette darted a look at Roscoe, who was accepting congratulations from the
other members of the weird club.
There’s a .40 caliber hidden in the moss
next to the tree.
His words echoed in her mind and her heart steadied. They
were going to let her run. Wanted her to run. That was part of their game. But
if Roscoe could be believed, he was going to even the odds. Him and his men.

She searched the shadows as Duet took control of the group
again. She didn’t see anything that resembled a person, but if Roscoe was to be
believed, his people were here to catch these monsters. Colette didn’t trust
him as far as she could throw him, yet the alternative was a gruesome death at
the claws of this cult. He turned at that moment to look at her. His expression
didn’t change from that flat, empty mask, but his eyes nearly begged her to
believe in him.

Duet stepped up once more and everyone scattered, as though
afraid of him. Colette gave a subtle nod of her head to the wolf. She’d trust
him on this.
Run to the left. Get the gun from the moss.

“And now what we’ve been waiting for,” Duet announced
jovially. “Roscoe has brought us a live one tonight.” His hand swept out in an
encompassing motion toward Colette. She froze at being the sudden center of
attention. “Miz Colette Robicheaux here is a hunter. A real Annie Oakley, it
seems. And she had the nerve to tempt one of our own to lower himself to her
level.” He shook his head, his robes swaying at the movement. “I know, my
friends, I know your pain. But this is why we’re here. This female, this
disgustingly weak,
human
female thought she was as good, if not better,
than us. She seeks to taint one of our very own with her weakness. And we’re
here to stop her, to teach her that despite the technology humans arm
themselves with, they’re nothing more than playthings of those who would walk
as gods.”

The crowd made that sound again, but this time it was edged
with something hungry and dangerous. It was a call to hunt. Colette’s bones
ached, her heart stuttered and threatened to explode when it began to beat
again. She did her best to calm herself, tried to recall every lesson she’d learned
at her daddy’s knee about hunting, how to handle herself, but that noise
brought forth the inner primitive, the one who instinctively wanted to cower
and hide.

Colette beat that terrified woman back. She wasn’t a coward
or a wimp. She was a Robicheaux. A Robicheaux who’d caught and held the
attention of a tiger she loved with all her heart. A man she was positive loved
her back. But even if he didn’t, the time she’d spent with him had been the
best of her life. And if her life ended tonight at the claws and fangs of these
monsters, so be it. But she was taking some of those sons of bitches with her.

“Release the hunter!” Duet shouted and two people surged
forward to grip the gate. The senator leaned down and whispered, “I look
forward to the game, huntress.”

And then the gate opened. Colette held back a moment, her
heart threatening to choke her. Something sharp poked her back, sending pain
lancing through her body. She charged out of the gate, her legs threatening to
buckle from the crouched position she’d held for so long, but she ignored it,
pushing herself. No one rushed after her, but she heard them, their growls and
snarls of impatience telling her they were just waiting for her to get far
enough away to chase.

Holy shit, holy shit. God please, don’t let this be a
trick.
She prayed as she took a sharp turn to the left, heading straight
for the massive oak tree and its bed of moss. Colette nearly tripped, but
managed to keep her feet as she ran for the promised gun hidden at the base of
the trunk. When she got there, she dropped to her knees, casting a quick look
over her shoulder to see what the cult was doing as she frantically patted the
moss, searching for the gun.

They were staring, sounds of confusion rising in the air as
they spoke. Duet and Roscoe were the only ones staring at her, their bodies
tense. Then her hand closed around the butt of the gun and triumph filled her.
Duet must have seen something in her face, maybe he smelled her fear begin to
fade, because he shouted something to his people who surged forward, robes
hitting the ground as they shifted.