There was an eerie silence in the swamp, as if even insects were shocked by the swift change of leadership. A roar of protest went up. Behind him, a gun went off and Drake released Jeanmard and whirled to face the new threat.
Joshua stood grim-faced, his eyes flat and cold. "You want leadership, you challenge him in the way of our people or I shoot you dead right here and now." Disgust and loathing filled his tone. He aimed his weapon at a man who was armed and obviously thought of shooting him.
Drake inhaled and pulled the scent of his enemy deep into his lungs. It was nearly the same as that of the man who had struck Saria. Drake welcomed the fight, roaring his challenge, signaling he was ready for any threat. He prowled back and forth, swiping a large paw over the ground to kick up dirt and leaves, sending them flying in the direction of his enemy.
"Gaston," Remy spoke very quietly, but his voice carried easily. "You'd better shift now before I shoot you myself."
This, then, was one of the families Drake hadn't heard much about as of yet. He charged and pulled back, kicking more dirt at the man, snarling his disgust. Gaston Mouton slowly handed his weapon to Robert Lanoux. Robert was covered in bandages and favoring his right side. He winced as he reached for the gun. Gaston unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, all the while studying his opponent. As the edges of the shirt parted, his chest was revealed. He was a big man with the heavy, roped muscles of his kind. Not an ounce of fat. A washboard stomach. Narrow hips and thick muscular thighs. A male in his prime--one no doubt believing he would mate with Saria.
Drake saw a red haze of fury as Gaston shifted, his speed only a hair slower than Remy's had been. He was far more confident than Drake expected, when he would have resorted to a weapon. Gaston and Drake paced back and forth, snarling and hissing at each other, each sizing up the enemy.
Without warning, the two leopards blasted into action, hurling themselves into the air at one another, bodies crashing hard as they met in midair, both going for the head and neck in an effort to inflict the most damage quickly. Blood spurted, ran down matted fur on both animals. They broke apart and slammed back together, a fierce, violent ballet of claws, teeth and sheer power.
The night echoed with roars of rage as the leopards broke apart, sides heaving, blood dripping, a brutal, primitive battle with neither male giving an inch. They exploded toward one another again, leaping into the sky, slamming together in an effort to get to a vital organ. Gaston fell back, claws ripping and tearing at Drake's underbelly, trying to gut him. Using his flexible spine, Drake twisted as he came down on all fours, rushing the oher leopard to take advantage of the awkward landing. Gaston rolled, came up fast and met the charge head-to-head.
Drake didn't want to kill the bastard and that knowledge only made him angrier. He shared the leopard's fury on several levels, not the least was that they'd struck Saria. He was already thinking like a leader, trying to do what was best for his lair. He didn't want leadership, he only wanted Saria.
This fighter was fast and deadly and it required every ounce of his skills to keep from getting killed while he held his leopard back, waiting for his moment. His leg was on fire, but the steel was there, the muscle and power. He had every confidence he would win, but he wasn't so confident that he could keep from doing permanent damage.
The two leopards dove into the air again, came together and crashed to the ground locked in a deadly embrace of claws and teeth, raking and biting at each other. Drake saw his opening, twisted and sank his teeth into the vulnerable throat. Beneath him, he felt the wild heart, the taste of hot blood, excitement of the kill, and triumph of the win all mingled together.
They stared into one another's eyes. There was no fear in Gaston and in a way, Drake admired him. He was a man he'd want on his team, yet there might be no other choice but to kill him.
"Submit, Gaston," Remy ordered. "Are you stupid?"
As the shifter's body grew still under his mouth, and the tension in Drake's leopard eased a little, Drake heard a warning shout and he was hit from behind, driven off his feet with no chance to whirl around and defend himself. He went down hard, shaken by the ferocity of the hit, his insides jarred and bruised. As if in a distance he heard Saria scream and a man grunt as if in pain. Nothing mattered but rolling, getting to his feet and finding his attacker.
"Damn it, Drake, stop holding back your leopard. Kill them both. They don't fight fair and the entire lot of them can go to hell," Joshua shouted. "If you don't take this one out, I swear I'm shooting every damned one of them."
Joshua's fury was mixed with a deep loathing and disgust. They lived by rules, firm, unbendable rules for survival in the forests of the world. Without those rules, leopards would be out-of-control killing machines. There had to be order and the Louisiana lair didn't seem to have any rules of fairness or honor.
Joshua's words penetrated the lair and the smiles of hope faded into worried frowns. If Drake had been holding back against one of their best fighters, what was he really capable of?
"Anyone else makes a move toward Drake and tries ambushin' him," Remy said, "will be going through me."
On some level, everything around Drake penetrated, but he was in another realm, one from long ago when the main rule of the jungle was kill or be killed. Blood thundered in his ears, roaring like a massive waterfall drowning out generations of civilization. He leapt high, springing off powerful back legs, meeting the other's charge in midair. His opponent missed his throathold and got a mouthful of loose, baggy fur-covered skin while Drake's leopard sank his teeth viciously into the muzzle and bit down, shaking his head.
He drove his opponent over backward, claws tearing wide strips from the belly. The leopard nearly convulsed with pain, raking and tearing in desperation. Drake let go of the muzzle and drove in for the exposed throat. His attack was skilled, vicious and precise. His strength was enormous, fueled by rage and the need to dominate. In that moment, he was nearly all leopard, a primitive, perfect killing machine.
He lost track of time, shaking his enemy, punishing with claws and teeth, driving in again and again for the kill. The leopard had no chance to recover his feet, only to fend off the inevitable with increasingly feeble--yet desperate--claws and teeth. Drake's leopard didn't feel any of the bites and rakes, only the need to vanquish his enemy.
"Drake," Jerico called to him. "Enough. Back off."
He heard the voice, muffled and distant, unable to clearly make out the words. The sound penetrated the red haze of his mind but made no sense. No one approached him, as he roared his defiance and slammed into the fallen leopard again and again.
"Drake, please." It was Saria. She didn't yell.
The man beside Saria touched her arm. The leopard saw that. He instantly dropped his fallen enemy and whirled to face the new threat, growls rumbling deep in his chest. His gaze locked on her attacker. Drake's leopard charged, stopping a few feet from the man who didn't move a muscle, sweat pouring down his face. The leopard swiped at the earth with his massive paw before turning back to once again grip his prey in a suffocating bite.
"Drake, come back to me," Saria said softly.
Drake tried to breathe away the rage. He forced his leopard away from the body. It took a lot of strength. Twice his leopard slipped out of control, rushed back and raked the fallen cat before he could get the beast inside him to use all the pent-up energy prowling back and forth, scaring the crap out of the rest of the lair.
It had been a fast, vicious fight, meant to intimidate, and it had. The men fell back each time the leopard approached them, roaring his challenge. Remy dropped to his knee first. His brothers followed suit. One by one the remaining members of the lair slowly complied until there were only the three fallen leopards who had already submitted and the man standing with Saria. As Drake approached, the scent of fear nearing terror permeated the yard.
"What the hell's wrong with you, Jules?" Remy demanded of the man who had taken Saria.
Jules cleared his throat. "I can' move. Te
ll him I can' move." He looked down between his legs.
Drake could easily see the razor-sharp blade of a knife lined up tight across Jules's balls. Saria held the knife rock steady. Her eyes met Drake's. She grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders. Blood trickled down the inside of Jules's thigh.
"He royally pissed me off."
Drake inhaled deeply, calming the leopard so he could shift. Shifting hurt like a son-of-bitch, a hot, bright fire rushing through his entire body, but he ignored it and caught his jeans when Evan threw them to him. He forced his tired muscles to work when all he wanted to do was collapse on the ground like the other leopards. He would not show weakness to these poor excuses of shifters, not when they'd forced him to nearly kill someone. He wasn't altogether certain he hadn't.
"I see that, honey," Drake managed, his breath a little ragged. "Hang on one ore minute for me." He took several steadying breaths and crossed what felt like a football field, although it was only a few steps. Without any warning, he slammed his fist hard into Jules's jaw, sending the man staggering back away from Saria's blade.
Drake reached out to pull Saria close to him. "I guess I should have waited a minute or two to see if you actually needed rescuing."
Her smile widened. "It was very sweet of you to make yourself leader of the lair just for me. I'm not quite certain what you're goin' to do now, but all the same, I appreciate the effort."
He sighed and glanced at her brothers. They all wore huge grins, even Lojos. He gave them his best scowl. "Get these three medical attention. I want the word to go out to all families, those not already here. They have twenty-four hours to swear their allegiance or leave." He lifted his head and looked around him, eyes like steel. "Things are going to change around here whether you like it or not. You'll live by the rules of the lair or get out. I don't much care at this point who stays or who goes, but if you stay, you'll start behaving with honor. I will clean up this lair and you won't like how I do it if you don't comply."
Not waiting for a reaction, afraid his rubber legs might give out, he wrapped his arm around Saria's shoulders. She seemed to sense how weak he really was because she slipped her arm around his waist and walked with him to the house. Jerico and Evan dropped in behind them, walking backward, facing the members of the lair as they guarded Drake and Saria.
Remy slowly stood up, frowning at the others. "What the hell were you all thinking? If you had killed that man, I would arrest you, leopard or not. Idiots."
"Maybe their problem is bad blood," Joshua taunted. He stood in the shadows, his weapon ready, his eyes hard. "I haven't seen much worth saving here, Remy. Cowards. Fucking cowards." His gaze settled on the two older men who were in the back, both holding shotguns.
The two men looked at each other. One spoke. "Who are you?"
"The name is Tregre. Joshua Tregre. I believe you're my uncles." Joshua spat on the ground. "Although it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to admit it."
The older of the two men sucked in his breath. "You're Renard's boy." The two men exchanged another look. The older one pushed past Elie Jeanmard and stood in front of Joshua, clearly not intimidated. His face was lined and worn, his once blue eyes faded to gray. He studied Joshua carefully, almost suspiciously before letting out his breath and nodding his head as if he approved of him. "You look like your father."
"You think I don't remember you, Uncle Beau?" There was bitterness in his voice. "Mom never once talked of that night, and she only said good of you and Gilbert, but I remember. My leopard remembers. You betrayed us and that monster of a grandfather killed his own son. I saw it and every night when I go to bed, I still see it. So don't think for one moment I've forgotten because I was little."
"Leopards don' forget, boy," Beau answered wearily. "None of us have forgotten that night. The old devil took our wives. He would have killed them too. Neither Gilbert nor I ever considered that he might kill Renard. Your mother was at risk, but not you or Renard, at least that's what we believed, and we figured Renard would just cack. Renard refused to allow his wife to bring you back. He sent her runnin' with you while he fought the old man. It was worse after that for all of us. My wife killed herself and Gilbert's run off."
"Why didn't you just kill the bastard?"
Beau shook his head. "You don' know what it's like livin' with a monster."
Joshua shook his head. "Your sons?"
Beau gestured toward two grown men just rising after swearing allegiance to their new leader.
"And your daughter? One of you has a daughter. There have been rumors."
"Rumors the old man could never prove. We told him she died at birth."
"What a waste, hiding your daughter, living like rats. You need to meet a man named Jake Bannaconni." There was bitterness in his voice.
"Joshua."
Drake's quiet voice penetrated the anger and disgust. Joshua sucked in his breath and turned toward the man who always had provided calm when rage got to be too much. Turning his back on his uncles, he strode toward the house, his shoulders stiff with outrage.
Drake watched him come, judging his mood. "I'm sorry, Joshua, for putting you in such a bad position. I recognized the surname, but didn't investigate. I should have asked you before putting you . . ."
"I would never have let you come here without backup. The minute Jake told me where you'd gone, I was already packing." Joshua looked him straight in the eye. "And as long as you're staying here, I will be too. No one lifted a hand to help my mom, least of all that family." He looked Drake over and suddenly grinned. "I think you should get back inside before you make a fool of yourself, boss."
Drake smiled back, swaying slightly. Joshua Tregre had always been a puzzle to him. On one hand he was quiet but confident. There was little arrogance in Joshua, and, unlike some leopards, he rarely was in an altercation. But, there was something very lethal about him. A good man to have at your back, Drake had always felt he would make a bitter, relentless and merciless enemy. They'd worked together for several years and never once had Joshua said anything about his past to him--or to any of the others on the team.
Drake stumbled and nearly went down, shocking himself. Joshua caught him as Remy shut the door on any audience.
"Put the stubborn son of a bitch down on the couch," Remy ordered. "Our fearless leader has dripped blood all over the floor."
"I'm not your damned leader," Drake denied, groaning as Joshua helped lower him to the couch. "I think your sister is a pain right now."
"Hey!" Saria protested. "It's not my fault you think you're a white knight."
"For future reference," Lojos said helpfully, holding a bag of ice to the back of his head. "Everyone thinks Saria is a pain. And for your information, poor Jules didn' hit my sister. He would never hit a girl, let alone Saria. Neither Gaston nor Jules would harm a woman."
"No one here would dare hit my sister," Remy said. "Any one of us would kill them. Theirody would be buried so deep in the swamp no one would ever find them."
There was an edge in Remy's voice that had Drake turning his head to study the set features. Yeah, he could believe the brothers were capable of getting rid of anyone hurting their sister and Remy was letting him know.
"So what did happen to your face, Saria?" Drake asked, although he could barely see anymore. Blood dripped steadily from the wounds on his face and burned in his eyes.
She knelt beside the couch, handed him a cool cloth for his chest while she went to work on his face. "They hit Lojos as we were going inside . . ."
"Yeah," Lojos interjected. "Jules and Gaston had no problem hittin' me." He glared at his brothers. "It's evident none of you had a problem with them hittin' me."
Remy feigned indifference. "Our new exalted leader took care of that."
Drake jerked Saria's wrist down, removing the cloth so he could send Remy his darkest, most intimidating scowl. "Shut the hell up, you Cajun jackass. I'm not your leader."
Saria laughed softly. "Maybe you really do need me after al
l. You certainly get yourself into messes. Don' worry, I'll take care of you."
Joshua and Jerico snickered. Evan turned back to the window hastily, but not before Drake caught the big grin.
"I hope all of you are enjoying yourselves," he snapped and laid his head back, closing his eyes, more because he had to than because he was dismissing them. "Tell me what happened to your face, honey."
Saria wasn't a dabber. She washed the blood from the deep lacerations and then, before he knew what was happening, doused him with disinfectant. He nearly fell off the couch, howling. Saria rolled her eyes and pushed him back down.
"We're just gettin' started," she pointed out. "You really are a baby, aren't you?"
"You're certainly not one of those women who believes in making a fuss over a man, are you?" His voice dripped acid.
"You mean mollycoddle him?" she sniped right back.
One of her brothers snorted. The argument wasn't getting him anywhere. Why had he thought her young and sweet and innocent? He had a damned tiger by the tail and he hadn't even realized it. So much for Drake Donovan, the man whose instincts never failed him. He caught her wrist again. This time she was scrubbing the hell out of his chest. Their eyes met and he felt himself falling like a ton of brick. Dark, enormous eyes locked with his. All those golden flecks intrigued him, all that dark chocolate enticed him.
"You're a very scary woman, Saria Boudreaux." He touched the bruise on her face with gentle fingers. "How did this happen?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're not distracted easily and never give up when you want something, do you?"
"You might want to remember that in the future."
She sighed. "I hit my face on the side of the building. Jules is strong and I knew he'd freak if I got hurt. I couldn't get out of his hold so I jerked toward the building. I didnn expect to hit quite so hard, but it worked. He let loose to catch me around the waist so I wouldn't fall. He was all worried, so much so that it never occurred to him that I managed to pull my knife and lock it where it counted until I said somethin' to him."
"Poor man," Gage muttered. "He shoulda been expectin' you to pull somethin' on him. I'm a little disappointed in him."