Savage Nature (18 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Louisiana, #Bayous, #Nannies, #Fantasy fiction, #Paranormal Romance Stories, #Romance, #General, #Leopard Men, #Bayous - Louisiana, #Paranormal, #Shapeshifting, #Fantasy, #Rich people, #Fiction

BOOK: Savage Nature
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He framed her face with his hands. “I know it is, Saria. I know I’m asking a lot from you to trust me with this, but I’ll see us through it. I won’t let you down.”

She studied his face for a long time. Around them, the water lapped gently at the boat and a large bird took flight, the sound of the wings surprisingly loud as the creature lifted into the air. He could read the trepidation on her face—but also the resolve. His woman wasn’t going to run, not like the birds taking to the air around them; she would see it through no matter how frightened she was. Each show of courage added another string into his heart.

Drake slipped one hand into all that silky hair, bunching it into his hands. “They won’t give you up easily, Saria. You have to know that. This is a small community. Every female is valuable. Amos Jeanmard sacrificed his own happiness for his people. I believe he is their leader, but he isn’t holding them together the way he once did. Sooner or later a younger leopard will challenge his right to leadership. If that happens before your leopard emerges, he could potentially change the rules on us. In any case, he will expect you to stay with your lair and mate with one of the males here to preserve the shifter lineage. Should a younger male challenge him, he may set the others on a course to reacquire you.”

“And you’ll fight them all.”

“I have experience they don’t. And my team will be joining us. They’re all experienced in battle.”

“They’re my friends and family,” Saria pointed out.

He brushed his lips gently over hers. “I’m a leader, Saria. We don’t ever sacrifice our own kind needlessly. I will do my best not to allow this to get out of hand, but they won’t take you from me.”

She licked her bottom lip, betraying her nervousness. “I’ve never . . .” She trailed off. “You might be very disappointed.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Never?”

She shook her head. “Growin’ up here, everyone feels like a brother. I don’ feel anythin’ other than affection for them. No . . . fire.” Her gaze met his steadily. “Like with you.”

He wao wrap her in his arms and comfort her. She was struggling to accept her leopard, the chemistry between them and her loyalty to her lair. She didn’t see her lair as her own yet, but he knew that was a huge part of her worry. He was a virtual stranger to her, one she had extraordinary chemistry with, one she instinctively trusted, but he didn’t make sense if she thought about it too much. She had accepted they would have sex, but she wasn’t allowing herself to think beyond that.

“I won’t be disappointed, Saria. Many men have a selfish desire to know his woman is his alone. I’m no different.”

She frowned. “And if I’d been experienced?”

“I would have reaped the benefits. Either way, I win.” He brushed her mouth again. He loved the feel of her soft, full lips.

“I don’ think there will be many benefits as it is. Although I think my leopard is a freakin’ hussy.”

He laughed. “She’ll have no problems, but perhaps we’ll take it a little slower so the next time she pushes her way to the surface, you won’t be so shocked by her.”

“Is there slower? Every time you touch me I feel as if I’m burnin’ up.”

The honesty in her was astonishing. He found her perfect. Saria wasn’t shy or backward, and she would approach sex and passion as she did everything else.

She burst out laughing, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. “You’re lookin’ at me as if I’m somethin’ very special. You have no idea what I’m like.”

He flashed a quick grin. She didn’t know him either. “Isn’t that the fun part? Learning about one another? I already know to look before I step into a shower or bathtub in case you’ve given me a present.”

“Fast learner,” she said and made her way back to the front of the boat.

He couldn’t help but admire the way she moved in her snug-fitting jeans. She was very fluid. Her leopard had been close most of her life, without her awareness maybe, but her coordination was too good, her reflexes too fast. She’d craved the wildness and freedom of the swamp when most women would have rejected the humid, very dangerous environment. She’d thrived, living off the land and learning to avoid the dangers.

Birds were everywhere, tall egrets walking gracefully along the shallower waters. Other smaller birds flitted from branch to branch. Each called, sang or scolded as they searched for food in the cool gray mist. The sun had begun to rise, turning the entire swamp into shades of gold and red muted by the dense fog.

“This area starts the beginning of the Tregre lease,” Saria called to him. “They have nine thousand acres and you can see how wild it is. This is probably the thickest vegetation in the swamp. This section of the swamp was never clear-cut. The growth is original.”

“Tell me about them.”

She sent him a quick look and then turned her attention to navigating. “They’re one of the oldest families. The grandfather, Buford Tregre, was a fierce, cruel man. He drank a lot and beat the crap out of his three sons and wife. It was rumored he abused his daughters-in-law as well, but that was hushed up pretty fast. He died a couple of years ago, but not before he did a lot of damage to that family. Thre is one girl about my age, but she never leaves the property. Two of his sons still live there, both wives left a long time ago. The grandfather wouldn’t allow them to take their children. So the girl and at least two boys live there, but we don’ see them often, more since the old man died. One brother was killed. Again, it’s an unconfirmed rumor that he died running with his wife and son and that the old man killed him.”

Drake was very aware of the depravity a shifter could sink into if he didn’t take firm control of his animal. Temper and lust could easily rule their lives. It sounded as if the leader of the lair had allowed the Tregre clan to live outside the rules of the lair. If the grandfather had been corrupt, certainly his offspring could become killers. Joshua Tregre’s mother had brought the boy back to the rain forest and had never said a word to her people about why she’d returned. He suspected it had been Joshua’s father who had died helping his family escape the old man.

Drake studied the wild, tangled vines and thick brush through the trees. Two men—brothers—whose father beat them and ran their wives off, lived there with two sons and a daughter. They were virtually isolated in that tangled jungle of plants and trees. Unless a complaint was filed, no one was going to venture into that swamp and take a look at the family.

The lair was far larger than he’d first imagined. Cajuns were all about family, and the shifters who had settled centuries earlier in the region had embraced that philosophy and way of life. He was definitely going to need his team and he’d have to call them in quickly. Once word got out that he’d claimed Saria, the Louisiana lair would be up in arms. If they were as undisciplined and out of control as they appeared, there would be more trouble than he’d first expected.

“Get me close.”

She took a slow, careful look around. “We can’t set foot on their land. They could decide to shoot us,” she cautioned, but she maneuvered the boat as close as she could without getting into the tangle of knobby roots.

Drake used high-powered binoculars to study the land. There were several ominous signs warning of no trespassing. Each sign stated clearly violators would be shot. That took care of human visitors. He studied the trees. Rake marks were visible on most of them. He inhaled and smelled the pungent markings of the leopard male, warning others from his territory. There were clumps of leaves built up every so many feet. The male had been busy, determined to ensure no other male came onto his land.

“Whose lease borders the Tregre family’s lease?”

“The Mercier land borders theirs and we have a tiny corner of our lease butting up against theirs. Remy forbade all of my brothers to go near there—and especially me.”

“Did you listen?”

“Everyone listens to Remy. He’s very much like you, soft-spoken, but you can see the steel underneath.” She shrugged, maneuvering the boat around a bend and once again coming in closer to the cypress trees with their knobby roots protruding above the water’s surface.

“You went to the corner.” Drake stated it as a fact. He studied the profile of her face with hooded eyes. Yeah, she had
definitely
visited that corner where the two properties connected. She was going to lead him in a terrible dance.

Saria laughed. “Ofse I did, but I did listen to my brother.” For a moment her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“And?” he prompted.

She sent him a veiled look from under her long lashes. “I struck up a friendship with Evangeline, the daughter, and we meet sometimes and just hang out together.”

He closed his eyes briefly, trying not to imagine what would have happened if she’d been caught by Evangeline’s grandfather. “There on the property?”

“I told you, she doesn’t leave it—ever.”

“Not even to go to school.”

“She’s homeschooled. I bring her books sometimes.”

“And your brothers don’t know.”

“Of course not. Remy would be really angry. Evangeline is different and very lonely. I don’ see the harm in keepin’ our friendship a secret.”

“If the old man died a couple of years ago, why does she still have to hide that she knows you?”

Saria shrugged. “Her father and uncle might not like it, that’s all. We didn’t want to take the chance that they’d forbid our friendship.”

He suppressed a groan. Saria’s stubborn streak of independence must have made her father crazy. She chose her own way, and few things seemed to deter her—not even danger.

She pointed to a particularly muddy bank. “See that, the way the mud has those skid marks. That’s a gator slide. They have territories too. They can get quite large and they’re dangerous, Drake. If you’re messin’ around in the swamp or bayou, you have to be aware of the predators.”

He glanced at her sharply. She was telling him she could take care of herself—and she probably could under most circumstances. “Sometimes predators are sitting next to you for years, honey, and you can’t see them.”

Her gaze flicked to his, caught and held before she looked away. “Amos Jeanmard leases this property,” she said. “He loves birds and allows me to photograph here whenever I like.”

Drake could see why she would want to take pictures. Jeanmard had a little piece of heaven. Birds of every color flitted through the trees. Others wheeled above in a large colorful flock. He spotted hawks and cranes and just about every kind of bird in between.

“I was here that first night. I had set up a blind to capture a series of photographs on owls,” Saria said. She nodded across the water. “The tip of Fenton’s Marsh is over there.”

The fog was slow to burn off, even with the glow of the orange sun beating down on them. He could barely make out the curve of the land mass she was referring to.

“I could just make out the lights of two boats. Someone screamed. It was really scary.”

He sighed. “At least you knew enough to be scared, although that didn’t stop you from investigating.”

She shrugged, undeterred by his judgment. He turned his attention to the Jeanmard property. There were the telltale piles of leaves and the rake marks. These were quite high and deep, but less frequent, as if the resident leopard had less to prove. He studied the deep furrows for a few moments. On three of the trees, a second leopard had raked deep into the tree over Jeanmard’s marks. A challenge then.

Drake wasn’t surprised. From just the small observations during the fight the night before and with what Saria had told him, he could see the lair was in desperate need of new leadership. Jeanmard had given everything to his lair and he wanted to retire. He wanted to sit on the front porch with the woman he’d loved for years and end his duties to the shifters.

“What is it?” Saria asked.

He would have to remember she was quick and observant. He passed the binoculars to her. “Take a look at the rake marks in those trees.”

“I used to see these on the house and in the trees around our property.
Mon pere
would sand them off the walls. What are they?” Saria handed him back the glasses.

“A male leopard marks his territory. As humans we can go into that territory and it wouldn’t be considered a challenge, but should I shift to leopard form and enter, he would have the right to attack me. Did you notice the second set of marks?”

She frowned at him and took the binoculars out of his hand again to study the deep furrows in the trees. “They’re a little different, not quite as high.”

“Exactly.” He couldn’t help feeling a surge of admiration and pride in her. Few people would have spotted the second set of rake marks even when pointed out to them. Her years in the swamp had honed her observation skills.

“What does it mean?”

“Every lair has a leader. I believe Jeanmard has been the leader of this lair for some time and when his wife died a few years ago, he wanted to step down. I think he’s got a challenger.”

Saria sat back in the boat and studied his face. “You think there’s trouble here, don’ you?”

“Yes. I think the lair has needed strong leadership and no one has stepped forward to take over. Whoever is vying for the position now is tentative. His rake marks are not as deep as they should be, nor do they cover all of Jeanmard’s.”

“You grew up knowing all of this right from the beginning, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen enough here, let’s keep going. I’d like to check a couple of other properties. I might be able to match the marks and tell you who is challenging Jeanmard for leadership. If we know who it is, you can profile them for me.”

She frowned at him. “How is this goin’ to help us catch whoever is killing people?”

“We’ll want the cooperation of the lair. We can only get that through the leader.”

“What if . . . ?” She trailed off and bit her lip hard, turning away from him.

“Why do you persist in thinking the killer might be one of your brothers?” Drake asked. “What aren’t you telling me, Saria?”

The boat swept along the shoreline, giving him a great view of the plants and birds. The sun slowly burned off the fog, so that the gray veil lifted, revealing the true raw beauty of the wild region. To a man who needed an untamed environment in much the way he needed air to breathe, the swamp was a thing of absolute magnificence.

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