Leopard's Prey
Page 90
Bijou slipped her hand into Remy’s back pocket. He glanced over his shoulder at her. Her face looked pale.
“The laws of civilization don’ apply to leopards. We aren’t exactly civilized,” Remy explained, trying to gentle the words with a softer tone.
“Absolutely lethal,” she whispered. “That’s what you’re sayin’.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. That’s who we are. Robert has been leopard for years and he chose to take such a risk.” Remy’s gaze went back to the large leopard tearing up the trees in a rage. Drake wasn’t known for being a hothead. If anything, he was always the voice of reason. If there was one man who could always keep his leopard under control, it was definitely Drake. He didn’t look under control at the moment.
“I shouldn’t have been so detailed when he asked me,” Saria whispered, looking up at her brother. “Maybe if I’d skipped the part about Dion and Robert just comin’ in . . .”
Remy put his finger over his sister’s lips. “Leopards don’ lie to one another. Especially mates. You had to tell Drake, and both Robert and Dion knew the chance they were takin’ goin’ into this.” He looked out the window again. “You’ll just have to trust Drake as your husband and our leader to know the right way to handle this.”
He stepped back from the window and turned to face the two men sitting straight in their armchairs. Dion appeared resigned, but Robert looked as if he might try to bolt at any moment.
“Before Drake gets in here, Saria,” Dion said. “I didn’t know you were pregnant and I never would have brought this to you had I known. I know that doesn’t much matter now, but I wanted you to know, I am sorry we upset you.”
Remy reached behind him and took Bijou’s hand. He had nothing normal to give her. There was nothing typical about their lives nor would there ever be. She had never been normal and now, for certain, she never would be. She was a gentle person, a caring soul. He knew all about the foundations she’d established and the way she took care of the people she’d employed for so long. It was no wonder Rob Butterfield didn’t want to lose his meal ticket.
“You don’ have to be here for this,” Remy said. “You can go up to your room. You’re safe either way. Drake would never harm you, not even in a leopard’s rage.”
The door banged open and Drake Donovan strode in. He didn’t look right or left, just stared straight at Robert. He was barefoot, his jeans riding low on his hips and his shirt open, revealing roped muscles and numerous scars.
“Dion, get the hell out of my home, now, before I decide you’ve got a beating coming. Don’t hesitate. Don’t argue. Just go while you still can.”
Drake’s eyes had gone a deep gold-green, his wealth of thick blond hair falling in a wild array over his forehead. There were telltale signs of the change, the darker shadow of rosettes deep within the strands of gold.
Remy swept Bijou behind him, just as a precautionary measure, his body shielding hers. Drake’s rage was under control, but it was there, smoldering beneath the surface, and with any leopard, that wasn’t a good sign. Remy’s own leopard reacted, snarling and raking at him, ready to leap forward to protect him as well as his mate.
The tension in the room rose as Dion slowly stood. Robert cringed and caught at his brother’s shirt. “You can’t leave. You know he’s goin’ to kill me.”
Dion shook his head, his face a mask of sorrow. “I don’ know what happened to you, Robert. But you did this and you have to face the consequences. I can’t keep coverin’ up for you. I did my best to pull you out of the things you’d gotten into, but you refused. You challenged Remy and then Drake. You’re my brother and I love you, but I can’t fix this one for you.”
He looked straight at Saria. “Once again, I’m sorry I dumped this in your lap.”
He turned and walked out without looking back at Robert, his shoulders stiff and his head up. Remy was proud of him. He didn’t know if he would have the same courage to leave one of his brothers to face an enraged leader of the lair. Drake, according to their laws, could force Robert to fight him as a leopard—and he would be well within his rights to kill him.
The silence stretched out, tension building. Drake’s eyes were nearly completely gold, never once leaving Robert’s face, never blinking. His entire being focused on the man slumped in the chair in front of him. Robert’s expression was sulky and a little defiant, even though fear permeated the room, oozing through his pores along with every breath he exhaled.
“I need to know if you’re a member of this lair,” Drake snapped, his voice like a whip. “Where do your loyalties lie? Answer now, Robert.”
Robert blinked rapidly. Remy felt Bijou’s fist twist in the back of his shirt. He laid his palm lightly against her thigh. She was trembling. He wanted to reassure her, but right now, he was Drake’s second and protector—not that Drake needed one—but that was the way of the lair.
“With the lair,” Robert mumbled. “I was drunk, Drake. I would never challenge for leadership. Never. My leopard was in a frenzy because there was a female . . .”
“Do not place blame with your leopard. It’s my job to know every leopard in this lair, their strength and weaknesses and their abilities. Your leopard isn’t difficult to handle. Remy’s is a fighter, continually looking for supremacy, and he always keeps his leopard under control—as I do mine. If you exhibited just a little control yourself and a little bit of discipline, you would never have a problem. You’re to blame. You’re responsible for the behavior of your cat at all times.”
“The laws of civilization don’ apply to leopards. We aren’t exactly civilized,” Remy explained, trying to gentle the words with a softer tone.
“Absolutely lethal,” she whispered. “That’s what you’re sayin’.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. That’s who we are. Robert has been leopard for years and he chose to take such a risk.” Remy’s gaze went back to the large leopard tearing up the trees in a rage. Drake wasn’t known for being a hothead. If anything, he was always the voice of reason. If there was one man who could always keep his leopard under control, it was definitely Drake. He didn’t look under control at the moment.
“I shouldn’t have been so detailed when he asked me,” Saria whispered, looking up at her brother. “Maybe if I’d skipped the part about Dion and Robert just comin’ in . . .”
Remy put his finger over his sister’s lips. “Leopards don’ lie to one another. Especially mates. You had to tell Drake, and both Robert and Dion knew the chance they were takin’ goin’ into this.” He looked out the window again. “You’ll just have to trust Drake as your husband and our leader to know the right way to handle this.”
He stepped back from the window and turned to face the two men sitting straight in their armchairs. Dion appeared resigned, but Robert looked as if he might try to bolt at any moment.
“Before Drake gets in here, Saria,” Dion said. “I didn’t know you were pregnant and I never would have brought this to you had I known. I know that doesn’t much matter now, but I wanted you to know, I am sorry we upset you.”
Remy reached behind him and took Bijou’s hand. He had nothing normal to give her. There was nothing typical about their lives nor would there ever be. She had never been normal and now, for certain, she never would be. She was a gentle person, a caring soul. He knew all about the foundations she’d established and the way she took care of the people she’d employed for so long. It was no wonder Rob Butterfield didn’t want to lose his meal ticket.
“You don’ have to be here for this,” Remy said. “You can go up to your room. You’re safe either way. Drake would never harm you, not even in a leopard’s rage.”
The door banged open and Drake Donovan strode in. He didn’t look right or left, just stared straight at Robert. He was barefoot, his jeans riding low on his hips and his shirt open, revealing roped muscles and numerous scars.
“Dion, get the hell out of my home, now, before I decide you’ve got a beating coming. Don’t hesitate. Don’t argue. Just go while you still can.”
Drake’s eyes had gone a deep gold-green, his wealth of thick blond hair falling in a wild array over his forehead. There were telltale signs of the change, the darker shadow of rosettes deep within the strands of gold.
Remy swept Bijou behind him, just as a precautionary measure, his body shielding hers. Drake’s rage was under control, but it was there, smoldering beneath the surface, and with any leopard, that wasn’t a good sign. Remy’s own leopard reacted, snarling and raking at him, ready to leap forward to protect him as well as his mate.
The tension in the room rose as Dion slowly stood. Robert cringed and caught at his brother’s shirt. “You can’t leave. You know he’s goin’ to kill me.”
Dion shook his head, his face a mask of sorrow. “I don’ know what happened to you, Robert. But you did this and you have to face the consequences. I can’t keep coverin’ up for you. I did my best to pull you out of the things you’d gotten into, but you refused. You challenged Remy and then Drake. You’re my brother and I love you, but I can’t fix this one for you.”
He looked straight at Saria. “Once again, I’m sorry I dumped this in your lap.”
He turned and walked out without looking back at Robert, his shoulders stiff and his head up. Remy was proud of him. He didn’t know if he would have the same courage to leave one of his brothers to face an enraged leader of the lair. Drake, according to their laws, could force Robert to fight him as a leopard—and he would be well within his rights to kill him.
The silence stretched out, tension building. Drake’s eyes were nearly completely gold, never once leaving Robert’s face, never blinking. His entire being focused on the man slumped in the chair in front of him. Robert’s expression was sulky and a little defiant, even though fear permeated the room, oozing through his pores along with every breath he exhaled.
“I need to know if you’re a member of this lair,” Drake snapped, his voice like a whip. “Where do your loyalties lie? Answer now, Robert.”
Robert blinked rapidly. Remy felt Bijou’s fist twist in the back of his shirt. He laid his palm lightly against her thigh. She was trembling. He wanted to reassure her, but right now, he was Drake’s second and protector—not that Drake needed one—but that was the way of the lair.
“With the lair,” Robert mumbled. “I was drunk, Drake. I would never challenge for leadership. Never. My leopard was in a frenzy because there was a female . . .”
“Do not place blame with your leopard. It’s my job to know every leopard in this lair, their strength and weaknesses and their abilities. Your leopard isn’t difficult to handle. Remy’s is a fighter, continually looking for supremacy, and he always keeps his leopard under control—as I do mine. If you exhibited just a little control yourself and a little bit of discipline, you would never have a problem. You’re to blame. You’re responsible for the behavior of your cat at all times.”
