Drake noticed Armande was not taken to task. He had a choice of greeting them and adding to his sister's misery, or simply nodding his head in their direction. He nodded and shifted subtly, turning his body a bit protectively toward Charisse. Drake liked him better for it, and could see why Saria forgave him quite a lot.
Drake took the small sofa across from Charisse and Armande, settling Saria beside him. "Where's Pauline this morning?"
"Makin' herself a slave to her guests," Iris said caustically. "Why she turned our family home into a bed-and-breakfast when she didn't need the money, I'll never know."
"She enjoys the company," Saria answered, her voice deceptively low. "And cookin' for her guests is a good deal of her fun. I'm surprised you don't know that about her."
Iris pressed her lips together tightly, her blue eyes narrowing. "I see your manners haven't improved any, Saria, but I expect nothing less of you."
"I suppose you think it's perfectly okay to be rude because you're so much older," Drake said very softly. His voice carried a low menace.
Charisse went white, moving closer to her brother for protection. Her breath hitched audibly. Armande put his arm across the back of the sofa, around her shoulders. Iris went very still and her blue eyes glittered dangerously. Two high spots of color appeared in her cheeks.
Before the woman could retort, Drake sighed. "I know you must have come over this early for something important, so let's get to it. I've been up all night acquainting myself with the area and I'm hungry and need to sleep. How can I help you?"
Iris pressed her lips together hard in a gesture of complete displeasure before she relaxed and nodded her head. "Yes. You're right. This is a lair matter and must be dealt with. My son was viciously attacked by Remy Boudreaux and I demand justice."
Drake stared at her a long time without expression, deliberately allowing the silence to stretch until the room was taut with tension. He slowly turned his head toward Armande. His vision banded and he knew his eyes had gone cat. To have a man dare to hunt Saria with a gun, fire it at her, hunt him and then hide behind his mother. It took every ounce of discipline to keep from leaping across the room and slashing a claw across the coward's throat.
"Is this true?" His voice came out as a growl.
Armande flushed a deep red. He glanced at his mother and shook his head. "No, sir. It is not."
"Then I believe we are done here."
Iris hissed out a breath. "No we are not. Look at him. He can barely walk. His chest is black and blue. He's tryin' to protect the very man who nearly killed him."
"In a lair, Mrs. Mercier, the male leopards settle things in their own way. We can't go to the police and if someone commits a crime against another member of the lair--particularly a female--he can be ostracized--driven from the lair--or killed. That is our system of justice and has been for hundreds of years."
"My son has never committed a crime," Iris snapped. "You're protectin' Remy Boudreaux because of Saria. And I have told you repeatedly, it's Lafont-Mercier, not Mercier."
Drake turned a predator's stare on Iris. "We're done here, Mrs. Lafont-Mercier. And if you're not willing to abide by my decisions, you are welcome to leave the lair. In fact, you have no choice but to leave the lair."
"This is my home, not yours." Iris leapt to her feet, clutching her handbag like a weapon. She glared at Armande, clearly expecting him to come to her aid.
"Not if you don't accept the leadership. Of course you could always push your son to challenge me. I would kill him, but maybe that's what you want. You don't seem to listen to him even when he gives you the truth."
Iris's eyes brimmed with tears. She sank back down and looked helplessly for a tissue. "That's a horrible thing to say to me. I love my son--my children. He came home so broken. He's not a fighter. He wasn't raised to be so--so crass. He has a good position in our company and works hard. Remy Boudreaux is a bully. Everyone is afraid of him. All the Boudreaux boys grew up rough. You don't know because you've just arrived here. Saria will tell you that I'm tellin' the truth. Everyone is afraid of her brothers."
Saria leaned toward Iris, open sympathy on her face. "My brothers are rough, Iris, that's true, but you know they're just. Remy would never touch anyone, least of all Armande, who we count as a friend, unless he was provoked."
Iris scowled at her son. "What did you do?" Her lower lip trembled.
Armande looked down at the ground.
"This matter has been resolved to everyone's satisfaction, Mrs. Lafont-Mercier," Drake said. "Your son took his punishment like a man and earned the respect of the lair. I understand why a mother would be distraught seeing her son broken and bruised, but some things are better left alone. Armande is a grown man and shouldn't have to talk about certain things with his mother--especially if he's paid the price for a mistake and everyone else has let it go."
"But I'm responsible . . ." Iris trailed off when Drake shook his head.
"No, ma'am, you're not. Armande is a grown man and subject to all the laws of the lair. You've done your part in raising him. He's a good man by all accounts and you should be proud of yourself--but he has to stand on his own two feet now. No man within the lair is going to respect him if they believe he's hiding behind his mother's skirts."
Iris's frown was more of a beautiful pout. "I suppose you're right, but I do believe Remy used excessive force." She glared at Saria. "And I'll always believe that. Remy despises my son because he's so charmin'."
"Mother." Armande rubbed his hand over his face, clearly mortified.
"I'm sorry if that embarrasses you, Armande. You, at least, took after me with your looks. Women chase after you the way men chase after me. Poor Charisse managed to get brains, and for that we're eternally grateful."
Beside him, Saria sucked in her breath. "How lucky you are that both of your children are beautiful, Mrs. Lafont-Mercier."
Iris didn't answer. Pauline entered the room and filled the sudden silence. "I know you and your men are tired, Drake. And you have to be hungry. Breakfast is on the table and Amos and I will be gone all afternoon shoppin' in town. The place will be quiet so you all can rest. I'll come back before supper and fix plenty of food."
"Thank you, Miss Pauline," Drake said. "I'll admit we're all worn out. It was a lot of country to explore." He smiled at Iris, searching to find the right note to connect with the difficult, beautiful, if somewhat childish woman. "You have a beautiful home."
She sniffed. "Not quite the way I wanted it, but it will do until I can remodel. My husband had such garish taste and someone insisted on indulgin' him."
"Mother, Charisse has provided a good livin' for all of us and dad was dyin'. She naturally wanted to give him whatever made him happy," Armande defended.
Drake noticed Charisse immediately closed her fingers over Armande's arm in an obvious signal to stop. It was too late. The mere fact that Armande would take his sister's side over his mother's made the woman furious.
Iris sniffed indignantly. "Charisse was spoiled rotten by that man and now I have to undo al the damage he did. She has a lot to learn before she'll be much good to anyone. And if she continues to date that horrible man she's seein', I may have to disown her. I will not have that man comin' to our house. He's as rude and as obnoxious as that drunken father of his. He owns a bar, Charisse. Whatever were you thinkin', goin' out with him?"
Clearly disgusted, the woman rose. "Pauline, I must leave. The thought of Charisse embarrassin' our family again with her poor taste in men is leavin' me faint." She glared at her daughter. "What are you waitin' for? You're already drivin' me to an early grave actin' the harlot like you do with that man."
"Iris," Pauline said sharply. "You will not talk to my niece like that in my house."
Iris turned her glare on her sister. "Of course you would side with her. You always have." She swung around abruptly and marched out of the house. Even as angry as she was, she still managed to look beautiful.
Armande rose slowly, his bod
y stiff and sore. He held his hand out to his sister. "Come on, Charisse. Let's get her home. If we're lucky she'll start drinkin' early and take to her bed in one of her 'spells.'"
Saria stood as well. "I'm glad you're datin' Mahieu, Charisse."
Charisse shook her head as she allowed her brother to pull her to her feet. "She'll run him off or seduce him. One way or the other, she'll get rid of him. I knew better than to say yes, but he was so persistent. Please tell him I'm sorry."
"Mahieu is tough, Charisse," Saria assured. "He won't run--and he certainly won't be seduced."
"Then he'll be the first," Charisse said. She walked out, her head high, Armande's arm around her shoulders.
Drake stared after them. "I don't even know what to say."
"I'm so sorry, Drake," Pauline said. "I had no way of warnin' you. My sister can be difficult, although not always that bad."
"What the hell would make a woman that beautiful so bitter? She definitely doesn't like other women, not even her own daughter."
Pauline shrugged. "She married the wrong man. Bartheleme wanted her because she's beautiful, but he didn't love her, not like he should. He was jealous and possessive, but he wasn't her true mate. Her life was horrible--intolerable for a woman like Iris who needed attention. Bartheleme lavished attention on Charisse and treated Armande as if he didn't exist. He treated Iris the same way. Worse, the man Iris had fallen in love with before Bartheleme came along, rejected her because she can't shift. He wanted his children to be leopard. Obviously both Charisse and Armande can shift, so in the end she didn't accept his reasons. She believed she wasn't good enough for either man and she's become the bitter woman you see."
Drake shook his head. "All of you should have traveled away from the area to find other lairs. Marrying someone for the sake of producing shifters and not loving them, not finding your true mate, eventually destroys a lair."
"Amos and I found that out the hard way," Pauline agreed. "He was good to his woman, but I think in the end she knew he loved me. We tried hard never to see one another, b sometimes, we just couldn't stop ourselves. Amos stayed true to his wife. Iris met Buford Tregre while she was still in high school. He was already married but she fell madly in love with him, believed his promises that he would leave his wife and marry her. But of course he didn't. She was crazy about the man, but he was ugly to her when she never could shift. He said she was worthless after stealin' her virtue. She was pregnant and she lost his baby. No one knew. In those days good girls didn't ever get pregnant, and certainly not by a married man."
"I think she had a very narrow escape," Saria said. "That man was cruel to his wife, his sons and their wives."
"When you're young and terribly in love, it doesn't feel like an escape, Saria," Pauline pointed out gently. "Iris is beautiful, but men only seemed to want her to show her off. There was never a true, steady love for her, like Amos has for me. She's agin', although she doesn't want to admit it, and she's frightened. Charisse just reminds her every day that she's growin' old and the men are lookin' to someone younger now."
"Perhaps if she learned not to be so mean to everyone, a man would give her a chance," Drake pointed out. "As it is, no one is going to chance being with her."
Pauline laughed. "Do you think she's dumb enough to show that side of herself to a man she's settin' out to seduce?"
"I suppose not." He cleared his throat. "This baby she lost, Buford's baby. You're certain she lost it and didn't pass off Armande as Bartheleme Mercier's child?"
Pauline gasped. "No. No, Drake. She lost Buford's baby. She was so distraught and miserable. And Armande is quite handsome."
"I could have sworn you once told me Buford was handsome," Drake pointed out, keeping his tone strictly neutral.
Pauline took a breath. "I guess he was, in the early days before I knew what a monster he was. Somehow he didn't seem quite so good-lookin' when I knew his character. Armande is Bartheleme's son," she added decisively.
Drake nodded his head, turning his attention to Saria, taking her hand. "You're nearly falling asleep right here, honey. Can you eat something and then we'll head for bed."
Saria nodded and followed him to the dining room. Most of the team had already finished and were headed up to bed. Joshua paused by Drake's chair.
"I'm wiped out, man. Do you want a guard posted?"
"I doubt it's necessary with all of us in the house. Let's sleep armed. We'll activate the security system and let Pauline know it's on so she won't set it off when she comes back. We'll sleep light enough and no self-respecting shifter is going to run around as a leopard in broad daylight out in the open. There are too many of us for the killer to show up."
Joshua nodded. "Thanks, boss. For some reason, I can't keep my eyes open. I must be getting old and can't hang with the young crowd anymore."
Drake laughed and pointed at Jeremiah, the youngest of all of them. He was desperately trying to cover a huge yawn. Joshua clapped the kid on the back and his team went upstairs to their rooms, leaving him alone with Pauline and Saria.
Pauline took Saria's face in her hands and kissed her forehead. "I hope Iris didn't hurt you with her snide comments."
"No. I always hope she won't come at me that way, but then I see what she does to Charisse and I know she does it because I'm friends with Charisse. Charisse is an amazing woman, Miss Pauline, and her mother doesn't even see it. I went with her once to the hospital. She visited the children's ward and she brought them all kinds of things and spent hours talking to the kids on the cancer floor. They all knew her by name. She goes there often. Her mother found out because we were late getting back and she was furious with Charisse and told her she'd better not bring some horrible disease home."
"Iris has a terrible fear of illness," Pauline said. "She always has." Pauline patted Saria's hand. "Get some sleep, cher, I'll be back this evening."
Saria blew her a kiss and sank down into a chair at the table. She was too tired to eat, but Drake was eating, so she drank a cup of coffee, hoping it would keep her awake long enough to get up the stairs to bed.
In the end, Drake carried her up the stairs and tucked blankets around her. The coffee definitely hadn't worked--she nearly fell asleep sitting at the table. The moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep, barely aware of Drake's body pressed tightly up against hers.
She dreamt of her leopard running in the swamp, feeling the freedom of her animal form for the first time. She'd never realized how easy it was to travel in the body of a cat, flowing over every obstacle, sensing where the ground was thin, hearing the very heartbeat of the swamp. A whiff of drifting smoke through the swamp had her cat wrinkling her nose. Her heart accelerated as adrenaline poured in. All wild things despised the smell of smoke, that heralding of imminent disaster. Her leopard coughed--lungs burning. She coughed.
Her cat clawed at her, raked and snarled in warning. "Bad dream," Saria murmured, trying to pry her eyes open to bring an end to the beginnings of a nightmare. She coughed again and opened her eyes. It was impossible to see anything with the room filled with smoke.
"Drake!" She shook him, rolling from the bed onto the floor where she could breathe a little easier. She dragged his body down after hers. He landed heavily, just beginning to stir. Something wasn't right. Drake always--always--came awake completely alert. "Drake! Fire. The inn is on fire and the smoke alarms aren't goin' off. Wake up now!"
17
DRAKE heard Saria's voice from a gre
at distance, as if he was in a long tunnel and the fog was so thick, it muffled not only sound but vision as well. He opened his mouth to call to her, but instantly his lungs burned for air. He coughed, realizing he was on the floor and Saria was trying to wake him. What the hell was wrong? His leopard roared at him, clawing and raking in alarm. Smoke in the room was so thick he could barely make out Saria, who knelt over him.
"The smoke alarms aren't workin'." Saria pressed her mouth against his ear. "I think we've all been drugged. If we
can't wake up, neither can the others."
Drake fought the layers of fog, pushing himself up gebreak/>
She crawled along the floor to the French doors and reached up to the doorknob. Drake paused at the door to the hall to watch her. He couldn't feel any heat coming off the door, but he was cautious as he reached for the handle, still watching Saria. She should have already been on the balcony.
"What's wrong?" It was impossible to ignore his stomach, the terrible churning, and he knew he was going to be sick very soon.
"It won't open. Somethin's blockin' it." She tried her shoulder, but the door wouldn't budge. Saria pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing a cough. "I feel sick, Drake."
"Me, too, baby. We'll get out of this." Drake crawled back to her. Smoke was coming in under the hallway door, which meant the fire was probably in the hallway, although the sprinkler system hadn't come on and the door wasn't hot at all. Puzzled, he tried the balcony door. Something was holding it closed from the outside. "Get back, honey," he ordered and made his way to the chair.
He had to stand to get a good swing at the thick glass, but he called on his leopard's strength and smashed the glass. Fresh air poured in. He was careful to break off the jagged pieces before allowing Saria through the broken glass.
She staggered to the railing, coughing, turning back to look at the other balconies. "All of them are blocked, Drake. We'll have to open them for the others. They might not be awake, or they're tryin' to crawl through the hallway like you would have done to warn everyone." She bent her head and vomited, over and over.
Drake did the same, emptying the contents of his stomach. Strangely, it made him feel a little better. "I'll go left. You go right, but Saria, don't you go back into the inn."
She sent him a wan smile, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll be careful."
Drake leapt up, caught the edge of the roof and somersaulted up to run along the outer edge to the next balcony. Sure enough, the door had been barred from the outside. He glanced down to the lower story, expecting to see flames or smoke, but it didn't look as if the fire was burning on the first story at all.