Leopard's Prey (Leopard People 5)

He'd let her down when she needed him most and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her down again. He knew she was in trouble. He felt it. His leopard felt it. Gage could think he was going off crazy, but it wasn't that. His leopard was--extraordinary. Difficult but extraordinary. He'd find her.

"I'm goin' to find her, Gage. I'll start at the Inn and track her from there. If you're worried, follow at a distance and keep everyone off of me."

"Has anyone ever told you not only are you a mean son of a bitch, but you're stubborn too?" Gage snapped.

Remy sent him a cool, calm look that said everything. "I believe our father told me that long before you ever did."

"And what the hell really happened to put that bruise on your face? Did she beat you up?"

Remy was distracted for a moment, memories washing over him so strong, with such intensity, that for a moment he froze. After he'd marked Bijou, his leopard had emerged to rake the walls and in the process, as he'd shifted back, he'd run into a lamp. Hard with the side of his face. He'd been in the throes of passion, not caring about furniture.

Abruptly he turned on his heel and headed for his car. He heard Gage swear again and then the brush of material as Gage raced to his own car, but the urgency in him was growing--a feeling of dread and fear. Leopards were said to find the same mate, each time they were reborn. Sometimes those connections grew strong enough that they could even speak to one another without saying a word, using a form of telepathy. Remy had no idea if that were true, but he did know he felt connected to Bijou in some way--and that connection was very strong.

He drove fast. His leopard's vision and quick reflexes gave him an advantage on the road, and everywhere else for that matter. He used every bit of his leopard's abilities, pushing the car to the maximum on the narrow roads, outdistancing his brother. The moment he pulled up to the Inn, he caught sight of Saria in the front yard.

He threw his keys on the seat and reached back for the leopard pack every self-respecting leopard kept close. Saria ran over to him.

"I searched her room. I swear she didn't take anything at all with her, Remy. She didn't leave, but she isn't answering her cell." There was worry in Saria's voice. "What happened last night? Was she upset?" Her gaze slid from his. "I found the sheets. And the room is . . . wrecked."

Remy glanced at her. "I'll do the repairs. Don' worry."

"I'm not worried about a room, Remy, just Bijou. Did somethin' happen last night? Did you two fight? She wouldn't . . ." She trailed off, looking more upset than ever.

He shook his head adamantly. "She wouldn't do anything dumb. I'm goin' after her. Using my leopard. He'll track her."

Saria's eyes went wide with shock. "Those photographers have been by lookin' for Bijou, Remy. You can't take that chance. They know she's here and for all we know they're lurkin' in the bushes, or have set up shop down the road with a zoom lens."

He moved around the house to the back, away from the street. The property stretched down to the lake and edged the bayou on one side. Saria followed him. Remy ignored her, jerking off his shoes and tossing them aside.

"Are you serious?" Saria objected, trying again to reason with him. "Remy, it's too dangerous. She wouldn't want you doin' this."

"I'm strippin', little sister, so if you don' want an eyeful, you might want to leave."

"You're so stubborn!" Exasperated, she threw her hands into the air and turned her back on him. "If you get yourself killed, that's not goin' to help Bijou."

He didn't reply. Already his leopard raked and clawed for freedom, eager to find her. Fur ran beneath his skin, a wave that itched beyond reason. His knuckles ached and the tips of his fingers burned and throbbed. Joints popped, painful to the point that he squatted, unable to stand while he tried to grasp his jeans to get the material off his burning skin. His vision had already begun to blur, to change color, and his sense of smell heightened.

"At least let me make certain no one's around before you go out onto the street," Saria said, desperation edging her voice. "I wish Drake was here to talk sense into you."

Drake couldn't have stopped him. No one could. The need to find Bijou had grown so strong it was beyond a compulsion. He shed the rest of his clothes and willed the change, embracing his leopard, calling him out. He'd always been fast at shifting, but his leopard had been so eager to emerge that it had taken longer to remove his clothing, but now he had barely time enough to circle his neck with his pack and boots. His was nearly all leopard by the time he stashed his weapons in his pack and zipped it closed, just making it before his hands curved and claws burst through skin.

Black fur, darker rosettes set deep, covered roped muscles and powerful legs. He forced his leopard to wait for Saria's call. He counted heartbeats, his breath huffing out in deep chest breaths as he tried for restraint, concentrating on the actual math in his head. Waiting. Snarling. His nose already scenting, whiskers acting like radar.

"Clear, Remy," Saria called.

He rushed around the corner, swerved to avoid his sister and raced to where Bijou had parked her car the night before. He went still, absorbing the scent until her car was a distinct marker in his lungs--until the unique blend of lavender with oil and gas and her particular vehicle penetrated deep into his bones. He paced up and down, making certain he could follow her particular car anywhere.

Remy whirled around and raced down the street, moving fast. His presence set dogs barking two residences away from the Inn, but by the time the dogs knew there was a big cat in the neighborhood, he had found a semblance of cover in the trees lining the street leading to the maze of trees. He cut into the grove and followed the road until it branched, moving fast. She could only go one way, and he could stay out of sight until he came to the fork.

At the fork, he slowed to a stop, hidden in the brush while a car went by. Taking a careful sweep in each direction, scenting the air, Remy determined he had a few moments necessary to catch which way Bijou's car went. He stepped out into the road and made for the fork, padding silently on large paws, all the while taking in every smell along the pavement.

Bijou's car had gone to the right, toward the bayou and away from town. He huffed out his breath and started down the road, moving fast, angling toward the cover of trees. The tree line stopped a good fifty yards and heavy grasses replaced the grove, but the grass wasn't particularly tall. He took the chance anyway, streaking across the open field to the grass, listening for cars while he raced toward the strip of road separating the bayous. The sound of a car had him sinking down, nearly in plain sight, holding himself still, not a muscle moving. The car went by, and his brother's patrol car swept up beside him. Gage reached back and opened the door and Remy leapt in.

"You're totally insane," Gage snapped. "I'll drive you to the next fork. There's no way you'll be able to find enough shelter to keep from being seen."

Remy lay down on the seat, keeping low to avoid anyone looking into the back of the car, but if they met a truck, he could be in trouble--and so would Gage--maybe the entire lair. What he was doing was endangering everyone. Drake would definitely have a few words to say to him when he returned from his trip and found out.

Gage let him out at the next fork where there was far more cover for the leopard. He tracked Bijou's car for several miles when he heard voices just ahead of him. Remy crouched low in the brush, the leopard's heart beating fast, a silent snarl rising. The three men in the pickup truck stank of booze and pot. He recognized all three.

Ryan Cooper and his friends had come into the cafe to get an autograph from Bijou and made trouble. Brent Underwood and Tom Berlander nearly always accompanied Cooper. To Remy's disappointment, sometimes Robert Lanoux, one of the leopards, did as well. Fortunately not this time. Cooper had a bad reputation. The cat struggled against his control, wanting to creep up behind them. A bottle came crashing into the brush, hitting a foot from where the cat crouched. Remy held him still when the cat's instinct was to bolt--or attack. He could make short work

of all three men fast.

Ryan Cooper pulled out a pistol and shot the bottle, shattering it. The leopard whirled and ran toward deeper grass, just as another vehicle came along the road. The Land Cruiser swerved, did a U-turn and stopped almost in the center of the road. Bob Carson, the photographer, got out of the driver's side, a camera slung around his neck. He peered into the brush where the leopard had just been. Remy dropped to earth and began a slow, almost freeze-frame crawl away from danger just as Gage drove up in the patrol car.

Cooper and his friends began swearing. Carson continued to block the road, looking no doubt for Remy. Remy kept moving away from the group, but so slowly and stealthily that he could hear Gage's drawling sarcasm.

"What the hell are you doin', Cooper? You and the boys drink yourselves sick and then get behind the wheel of your truck and drive that way?"