Leopard's Prey
Page 91
“It was her.” Robert pointed a finger at Bijou. “Her leopard led mine on.”
A growl rumbled deep in Remy’s chest. He bared his teeth at Robert, but he remained absolutely still. Drake was the leader, and he was following the plan they’d devised. Robert had to state his loyalty so there was no safely going back.
“So you’re telling me you’re incapable of controlling your leopard, no matter the circumstances.”
Drake’s voice had gone very quiet, quiet enough to send a chill down Remy’s spine. If that tone had sent a message to him, he couldn’t imagine what Robert was feeling. It was a question no shifter wanted to be asked. If he couldn’t control his leopard, it was a virtual death sentence. No shifter could be around humans if his leopard, with its intense mood swings and violent outbursts, ruled.
Robert shook his head. “No. No. I control my leopard. The circumstances . . .”
“Don’t matter,” Drake interrupted. “Either you’re in control at all times or you’re not. Which is it?”
“I’m in control,” Robert admitted hastily. He was trapped and he knew it. He was facing life or death and there was no getting out of it.
“You were drunk and you allowed your leopard loose when you weren’t one hundred percent,” Drake accused. “You’re totally responsible, not Bijou, not Remy and certainly not your leopard. You challenged me and you went after a claimed female. Whether or not she’d mated with her chosen one, she was off limits and should have been under your protection.”
Robert said nothing, holding himself stiff in his chair, clearly terrified as Drake laid out the charges against him.
“Last night at the club, a female leopard of our lair was threatened and every member present with the exception of you leapt to protect her. One of our most sacred laws is to protect our females and our children. I’m waiting for an explanation.” Drake’s voice was lower than ever, and that made him sound all the more lethal.
Robert opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish gasping for air. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I was with my friends—”
“To clarify,” Drake interrupted, “these are the friends that were harassing one of our women.”
“I didn’t know she was one of ours,” Robert lied.
The room shook with the force of Drake’s roar. He leapt forward and struck Robert’s face, openhanded, but his hand was a large claw and the razor-sharp tips ripped Robert’s cheek open, leaving four distinct rake marks with blood welling up.
Robert howled and cowered back in his seat. Bijou hid her face against Remy’s back. He could feel her trembling more than ever. Bijou had steeled herself to remain in the room and learn as much as she could about leopard law. He had to hand it to her, she had courage.
Saria gently put her hand on Bijou’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie as well as to try to tell her to trust in Drake. He glanced at Saria, grateful for the way she read Bijou’s feelings. Drake was scaring the crap out of Robert on purpose. Remy had no doubt that if Robert told any more lies, the retaliation would be swift and painful—that was their law.
Bijou had no brothers. She hadn’t grown up in the environment Saria had. She knew about neglect and debauchery. She knew what alcohol and drugs could do to a man. But she had never experienced real violence, not like leopards were capable of. Remy couldn’t take his eyes off Drake. His leopard was at the ready. If for any reason, Drake needed him, he had to respond within seconds, and that meant he couldn’t be the one to reassure Bijou, no matter how much he wanted to do so.
“I lied. I lied,” Robert admitted, holding the side of his face. Blood seeped through his fingers and trickled down his arms. “I did know she was leopard. It was obvious at one point. I didn’t want Jean or Juste to think I’d turned on them.”
There it was—exactly where Drake had been leading Robert all along. Had Robert not claimed his loyalty was to the lair, Drake would have challenged him in a battle between leopards and Robert surely would have died. As it was, he had to answer any questions Remy or Drake posed, whether he liked it or not. Drake had been careful to keep every subject in the context of lair business. That was what Remy admired most about Drake. His leopard might be enraged, but he always kept his cool and thought clearly through every crisis. That trait was what made him such a great leader.
“I see,” Drake said. Deliberately he allowed the silence to stretch out, until Robert squirmed in his chair. “I’m going to give you one chance to come clean. We know about the break-ins, Robert. I want you to give Remy every detail. Every piece of evidence you can provide, anything at all that will help him put those men behind bars.”
The color drained out of Robert’s face. He opened his mouth but Drake held up his hand to stop him from speaking.
“One chance, Robert. I’ll know if you lie. Remy will know if you lie. You have a death sentence hanging over your head, so whatever the Rousseau brothers have on you, it will never be as bad as what I’ll do to you. Start talking.”
Robert licked his suddenly dry lips. Immediately Saria left the room to get him a drink of water. He swallowed several times. “They’ll kill me. They like to kill. They both call themselves bokor, a kind of priest for voodoo black magic. I don’ know if they really know what they’re doin’, but they hold regular rituals out in the swamp and sacrifice animals. They love to cut the heads off of chickens and spray the blood around. They call on demons. They even have a human skull they use for their rituals.”
A growl rumbled deep in Remy’s chest. He bared his teeth at Robert, but he remained absolutely still. Drake was the leader, and he was following the plan they’d devised. Robert had to state his loyalty so there was no safely going back.
“So you’re telling me you’re incapable of controlling your leopard, no matter the circumstances.”
Drake’s voice had gone very quiet, quiet enough to send a chill down Remy’s spine. If that tone had sent a message to him, he couldn’t imagine what Robert was feeling. It was a question no shifter wanted to be asked. If he couldn’t control his leopard, it was a virtual death sentence. No shifter could be around humans if his leopard, with its intense mood swings and violent outbursts, ruled.
Robert shook his head. “No. No. I control my leopard. The circumstances . . .”
“Don’t matter,” Drake interrupted. “Either you’re in control at all times or you’re not. Which is it?”
“I’m in control,” Robert admitted hastily. He was trapped and he knew it. He was facing life or death and there was no getting out of it.
“You were drunk and you allowed your leopard loose when you weren’t one hundred percent,” Drake accused. “You’re totally responsible, not Bijou, not Remy and certainly not your leopard. You challenged me and you went after a claimed female. Whether or not she’d mated with her chosen one, she was off limits and should have been under your protection.”
Robert said nothing, holding himself stiff in his chair, clearly terrified as Drake laid out the charges against him.
“Last night at the club, a female leopard of our lair was threatened and every member present with the exception of you leapt to protect her. One of our most sacred laws is to protect our females and our children. I’m waiting for an explanation.” Drake’s voice was lower than ever, and that made him sound all the more lethal.
Robert opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish gasping for air. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I was with my friends—”
“To clarify,” Drake interrupted, “these are the friends that were harassing one of our women.”
“I didn’t know she was one of ours,” Robert lied.
The room shook with the force of Drake’s roar. He leapt forward and struck Robert’s face, openhanded, but his hand was a large claw and the razor-sharp tips ripped Robert’s cheek open, leaving four distinct rake marks with blood welling up.
Robert howled and cowered back in his seat. Bijou hid her face against Remy’s back. He could feel her trembling more than ever. Bijou had steeled herself to remain in the room and learn as much as she could about leopard law. He had to hand it to her, she had courage.
Saria gently put her hand on Bijou’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie as well as to try to tell her to trust in Drake. He glanced at Saria, grateful for the way she read Bijou’s feelings. Drake was scaring the crap out of Robert on purpose. Remy had no doubt that if Robert told any more lies, the retaliation would be swift and painful—that was their law.
Bijou had no brothers. She hadn’t grown up in the environment Saria had. She knew about neglect and debauchery. She knew what alcohol and drugs could do to a man. But she had never experienced real violence, not like leopards were capable of. Remy couldn’t take his eyes off Drake. His leopard was at the ready. If for any reason, Drake needed him, he had to respond within seconds, and that meant he couldn’t be the one to reassure Bijou, no matter how much he wanted to do so.
“I lied. I lied,” Robert admitted, holding the side of his face. Blood seeped through his fingers and trickled down his arms. “I did know she was leopard. It was obvious at one point. I didn’t want Jean or Juste to think I’d turned on them.”
There it was—exactly where Drake had been leading Robert all along. Had Robert not claimed his loyalty was to the lair, Drake would have challenged him in a battle between leopards and Robert surely would have died. As it was, he had to answer any questions Remy or Drake posed, whether he liked it or not. Drake had been careful to keep every subject in the context of lair business. That was what Remy admired most about Drake. His leopard might be enraged, but he always kept his cool and thought clearly through every crisis. That trait was what made him such a great leader.
“I see,” Drake said. Deliberately he allowed the silence to stretch out, until Robert squirmed in his chair. “I’m going to give you one chance to come clean. We know about the break-ins, Robert. I want you to give Remy every detail. Every piece of evidence you can provide, anything at all that will help him put those men behind bars.”
The color drained out of Robert’s face. He opened his mouth but Drake held up his hand to stop him from speaking.
“One chance, Robert. I’ll know if you lie. Remy will know if you lie. You have a death sentence hanging over your head, so whatever the Rousseau brothers have on you, it will never be as bad as what I’ll do to you. Start talking.”
Robert licked his suddenly dry lips. Immediately Saria left the room to get him a drink of water. He swallowed several times. “They’ll kill me. They like to kill. They both call themselves bokor, a kind of priest for voodoo black magic. I don’ know if they really know what they’re doin’, but they hold regular rituals out in the swamp and sacrifice animals. They love to cut the heads off of chickens and spray the blood around. They call on demons. They even have a human skull they use for their rituals.”
