Savage Nature (7 page)

“You’re wrong about that,” Dion said, glaring at the sight of Drake’s fingers loosely forming a bracelet around Saria’s wrist.

She followed his annoyed gaze and had to fight to keep from blushing as she pulled away and very firmly stepped around Drake. “You could have used the phone, Dion,” she said, “if it was so necessary to get in touch with me.” She walked ahead of him, but stopped where she could keep an eye on Drake and Robert. If the twins had planned some underhanded sneak attack on her customer, she was going to let them know once and for all that she could take care of her own.

“Do your brothers know what you’re doin’?” Dion hissed between clenched teeth. “That man is dangerous, Saria. You’re in over your head.”

She tapped her fingers on her thigh, wholly aware of Drake’s interest. She was careful not to look at him. “This isn’t any of your business, Dion, nor is it my brothers’ business. I’m a licensed guide. In case you haven’t noticed in the last few years, it’s how I make my livin’.”

Dion shook his head, stepping closer to her and lowering his voice another octave. “Not with this man. If he wants a guide, I’ll do it for you. You have no idea what you’re dealin’ with.”

“So tell me,” she challenged. “He didn’t roll over and play scared when you and your brother tried double-teaming him?” Fury burned through her. “If you know somethin’ about this man, tell me now.”

“I’ve been around men like him, Saria. You haven’t. He’s too still. He didn’t even blink when we came up on him, and believe me,
cher
, normal men fear us.”

She believed him. Robert and Dion were built strong and could fight fiercely. Others left them alone, knowing if you fought one, you’d be fighting the other.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Then I guess I’ll be safe out in the swamp with him.”

Drake could hear the whispered conversation rather easily, as did his leopard. His cat was already far too close to the surface and once again he found himself struggling to keep the animal under control. Saria was surrounded by leopards, and if he hadn’t known it before, he sure as hell knew it now: he didn’t want
any
male, in
any
form near her.

The Lanoux twins, as well as the man in the shadows, whoever he’d been—and Drake couldn’t tell until he managed to get over there and nose around—were certainly leopard. The older gentleman—Amos Jeanmard, she’d called him—who was watching them from the path with interest, was a leopard as well. He had stumbled into a real shifter lair where not one but several families grouped together to form a loose coalition. He hadn’t known one existed outside of the rain forest.

He inhaled the scent of males in their prime, furious that another male had entered their realm. An outsider, possibly a rogue. He had no fear of them—both he and his leopard had been fighting since he was a child—but he hadn’t shifted in a long while. The surgeon had been adamant that he take it slow and allow his leg to fully heal before he tried shifting again. That mattered little to his cat.

His animal raged, throwing himself at Drake, but Drake had been an alpha for many years, running teams of male leopards in the rain forest, where their primitive natures often edged out the civility of their human side. It took strength, patience and discipline to control them—all of which he had in abundance. More than anything, he had to get Saria away from the males. If he read her correctly—and he was very good at reading people—she was as independent as they came.

Ignoring the others, as well as the older man coming up behind him, he sent her a small, taunting smile. “If your man objects to you showing me around, Ms. Boudreaux, perhaps you could recommend another guide.”

Saria turned, color creeping up her neck. He found it charming, even alluring, and he felt a bit guilty for manipulating her aolor swept into her face.

Her eyes glittered, more amber than brown. “Monsieur Lanoux is
not
my man.
I’m
your guide, Mr. Donovan, and no one is takin’ the job from me.”

She pushed past Dion, stalking toward him, her shoulders stiff with outrage. She actually shoved against Robert as she passed him, her shoulder hitting his. She was a little thing, but solid, and she had surprised, even shocked, the male. She rocked him, Drake saw with satisfaction. His grin widened, and he allowed admiration to flair for a moment in his eyes. He loved her accent and he noted it got stronger when she was angry, something well worth remembering.

Saria picked up his bag and pointed the way into the grove with it. At the same time, she glared at the brothers. “I’m quite capable of keeping us safe in the swamp.”

“Your brothers . . .” Dion began.

“Mind their own business, as you should,” she snapped back. “Good evening, Mr. Jeanmard,” she greeted the older man as she continued walking down the winding path into the trees.

She was magnificent. Drake found himself smiling even as he recognized the newcomer was definitely leopard. He followed Saria, resisting the cat’s desire to roar his triumph to the other males.
Sometimes, my friend, using brains is far better than brawn,
he soothed his cat.
We’re close now. It will be soon.
The swamp called to the wildness bred into his bones.

“What was that back there?” he asked, knowing she would wonder if he didn’t. “Are they upset because you got the work instead of them?”

“I take customers into the swamp all the time,” she said. “I don’ know what got into them. They aren’t related to me and we don’t date, so don’ worry about it.”

Drake glanced to his right without turning his head. Dion Lanoux paced beside them several yards away, winding in and out of the thicker stand of trees. To his left, Robert Lanoux did the same thing. There was no doubt their cats had scented his. This was going to be one very interesting investigation. More than anything else, he needed to find out just how big the lair was, how many members, and if one of them had become a serial killer. He glanced at the woman leading the way through the grove. She walked with confidence, but she was nervous. Twice her hand brushed the hilt of the knife and she sent several surreptitious glances into the surrounding trees.

“I don’t want to make trouble for you,” he said.

She sent him a quick glance over her shoulder. Yeah. She knew the Lanoux brothers were in the grove pacing along beside them and she didn’t like it one bit. She
had
to be the female his cat had reacted to. It made sense.
He
was reacting to the woman. The men were edgy with a stranger in their midst. That might be natural, but to actually challenge one wasn’t—unless a female was close to the emerging.

The Han Vol Dan, the period of time when a female shifter’s leopard as well as the woman were both ready to mate at the same time, was the most dangerous time for all shifters. The male cats became edgy and restless, combative and difficult to control. Drake studied Saria. There was no sign of a cat now, nothing that gave away that a female leopard could be hiding beneath all that glorious skin.

It took him a good few minutes bee he realized everything in him, every cell, every muscle, everything he was, reached for her. Saria Boudreaux belonged to him, and he was going to have to steal her right out from under the noses of every single male in what looked as if it could be a considerable lair. And he had to do it right in the middle of a murder investigation. No small task, but there was no question he was looking forward to it.

“What?” Saria glanced at him over her shoulder again.

He was grinning, he couldn’t help himself. It felt damned good to be alive.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the evening—and the company. You live in a beautiful place, Saria.”

She sent him a faint, pleased smile. “It is, isn’t it? Not many people appreciate it.”

He followed her contentedly, and with the danger pacing close and the night closing in, he felt right at home.

3

SARIA and Drake were being followed right out into the swamp, and their trackers weren’t being subtle about it. His cat, always lethal, stretched languidly, claws out, ready for battle—even eager for it. For a few moments, Drake could only stand very still and fight the internal battle for supremacy. His cat became agitated as it scented the males racing along the banks beside him. The leopard went from mildly irritated to furious feline in a matter of minutes.

Drake turned his face up to the sky. The clouds rolled overhead, a turbulent blend of heat and moisture, threatening to break open. The weather suited his mood, stormy and unpredictable. He couldn’t allow his leopard to emerge, not there on the boat with Saria so close to danger. Not with male leopards prowling the water’s edge looking for a fight with him. He forced down the need to shift, using every bit of discipline and control he’d learned over the years to restrain his angry cat.

The ache in his jaw receded, but his bones hurt, particularly his injured leg. He shifted his weight to ease the burden on it while he drew in several deep breaths to chase away the mad desire to shift. He pushed the leopard back even more. His knuckles were on fire and the ends of his fingers throbbed. A soft growl escaped and he sensed Saria stiffen and throw him a look. He pretended great interest in his surroundings.

The boat skimmed over the soft green carpet of duckweed, taking him deeper into the misty swamp. Leaves had begun to fall away, making branches reach low over the dark waters, like large bony fingers ready to drag the unwary into the alligator-infested canals and bayous. They passed grass prairies as the moon rose, throwing a silvery glow across the dark waters. Cypress and willows hung over the banks. Tupelo gums rose up through the tangled vines and vegetation on the swamp floor. Egrets preened their white plumage, looking like no more than stick shadows against the dark sky.

Towering thunder clouds promised more rain, turning the sky even grayer. He used his cat’s vision to pierce the veil, spotting a nutria watching them pass. An otter sat on a log, but his attention was centered in the grove of cypress trees on the edge of the swamp. It didn’t surprise Drake when a large buck leapt off the bank and raced for safety, startled, no doubt, by the leopards following the progress of Saria’s boat.

Drake looked for landmarks, but there were none. “You seem to know your way around, yet there’s little to tell you which direction to go.”

“You don’ ever want to come back here without a guide,” she cautioned. “I’m not just sayin’ that to you so I can work. Most of these areas are leased and they’ll shoot to protect their lands. They earn their livin’s out here by trappin’ , huntin’ and fishin’ . It’s a hard, satisfyin’ life, but we get poachers and a few others that have business they don’t want anyone to know about. That threatens our way of life.”

“I hear you,” he said to appease her. He could see she was genuinely worried—and ordinarily she had reason to be. But he was leopard and he could find his way anywhere—even in her swamp. He had supreme confidence in himself.

As if reading his thoughts, she continued with her warnings. “A lot of the land is spongy, and one misstep and you’d fall through.”

He spotted a large cat moving fast through the trees near the bank and hid his smile. Leopards had an instinct about foot placement. They could swim and they were good arboreal travelers as well. He could maneuver the swamp as well as any native.

The landscape was beautiful. The trees, half submerged in water, rose up bare, twisted, bony and gnarled, the branches stretching up and out with great sheets of moss cloaking them. He kept his eyes on the leopard. Shifters could sustain speed and travel much longer periods of time than a large cat could, but still, not miles and miles, not in that form. Sure enough, one cat skidded to a halt and another who’d been waiting took up the chase. The word was out and the lair was calling in its defenders.

He had to turn away to hide his grin. They should have just asked Saria where she was taking him and saved them all so much trouble. Still, they would have followed to ensure the safety of the female. He would have. In any case, he was going to have company tonight. They knew exactly what he was, they would have scented the leopard in him and the fact that he wasn’t intimidated wouldn’t sit well with them, not with a female involved.

He glanced at his watch. He had a satellite link-up with Jake Bannaconni soon. He’d cut it close, catching the last barge, but he’d stopped off just to make one last trip to the surgeon. He was going to shift as soon as he had an opportunity. His leopard had been patient enough. Both of them were withering without being able to be true to their wild nature.

Mist gathered, moving in slowly through the stick-figure trees, thickening into a heavy veil of gray. Sounds changed the deeper they penetrated the swamp. He caught a glimpse of a hunter’s camp, a small snug building used while fishing and trapping. The cabin represented a vanishing way of life, men living off the land, independent and fiercely proud. Families still tight-knit, hardworking people who supported each other to survive.

He looked from the cabin to Saria’s face as she stood, one hand resting lightly on the helm. Her hair blew around her face, yet there was an elegant, regal quality to her in her simple blue jeans and face scrubbed clean of makeup. She embodied the spirit of nature to him. Strong yet fragile. Independent and still vulnerable. Elusive and so tempting. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes shining. The wind put color in her cheeks. She glanced at him and laughed, clearly enjoying the ride over the water. The sound carried on the wind and became part of the rhythm of the swamp for him.