Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  She couldn't help herself. She laughed. They were alive. No alligator got them. "I stink like sewage, but then so do you--the latest in cool perfume. Thank God no one else can smell us."

  "Although we might smell like rotten meat to an alligator," Arnaud said.

  "That's so not funny," she said, trying not to laugh. She was afraid she might be on the edge of hysteria. "I'm freezin'."

  "So am I." He glanced at the sky. "It's going to be night soon."

  "Don' you dare talk about climbin' up that bank. I'll push you back in myself."

  There was no sound above them other than the drone of insects. No trickle of dirt to alert them. Nothing at all, but she suddenly knew with absolute certainty they weren't alone. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist to get his attention and put her finger to her lips signaling above them.

  They both lay in silence, Arnaud, frowning, trying to hear whatever had spooked her. He put his mouth against her ear. "I can hear the insects."

  "Someone's there," she whispered back. She knew she was right. Her entire body had gone on alert. Deep inside something shifted and moved. That strange itch raced like a tidal wave just under her skin, rushing through her body in alarm.

  "Bijou!"

  Her heart dropped. She'd recognize that arrogant commanding voice anywhere. Remy Boudreax was up above them. Of course it had to be him that would come along when she was at her absolute worst. She moaned and covered her face with her hands, smearing mud all over her cheeks and chin.

  "Bijou, answer me." The imperious command left her in no doubt that Remy was searching above the bank for her.

  Arnaud started to roll over in an effort to get to his feet.

  "Shh," Bijou cautioned, panic-stricken. She put her hand over his mouth "Don' say a word. Seriously. I'd rather an alligator eat me than have him see me like this."

  The voice above them rose in volume. "Damn it, Blue. You'd better be alive. Answer me. Where the hell are you?"

  "That's a friend of yours I take it," Arnaud drawled around her hand.

  "He is not goin' to get the satisfaction of seein' and smellin' me like this," she hissed.

  Something moved along the edge above them, clearly following the path of the SUV. There was a lot of cursing in Cajun French.

  "We have to be rescued before dark," Arnaud pointed out in his usual pragmatic way.

  She was silent a moment, then she snapped her fingers, already moving, trying to curl herself into a little ball. "You get rescued, and then come back for me."

  "You really like this man, don't you?" There was a trace of amusement in his voice.

  "Don' laugh at a desperate woman, Arnaud," she warned. "You'll be goin' back in that really smelly, disgustin' water."

  "Blue? Where the hell are you? You damn well better not be in that sunken SUV."

  Arnaud raised his voice. "We're here, trapped below you. A little worse for wear but we're alive."

  "Traitor," Bijou hissed between her teeth. She covered her face again, smearing more mud. "I'll never live this down."

  "Bijou?" Remy's voice was directly overhead. A small amount of dirt rained down.

  "The ledge is crumbling," Arnaud cautioned. "You'll have to stay back from it."

  "Well back," Bijou whispered. "Like the other side of the bayou. Why do these things always happen to me?"

  "Bijou." There was a short pause. "I need to hear your voice. Are you all right?" This time the tone wasn't so commanding and for some insane reason tugged at her heartstrings.

  She sighed, resigned, and sat up slowly, shoving dripping hair from around her face. "If you can call smelling like sewer and being covered in germs all right, then I'm perfectly fine."

  "Damn it, woman." Relief poured into Remy's voice. "You took a few years off my life."

  "Poor you," she called back. "You should have been here for the last few hours."

  "You really are fine," Remy said. "If you can come back with your sassy sarcasm."

  "Well, for heaven's sake, Remy, I was the one someone was tryin' to kill. And, I'm the one who ended up in the bayou, not you."

  "I was wonderin' what that smell was," Remy called back.

  She hissed out a swear word between her teeth.

  Arnaud grinned at her, his eyes briefly warming. "You really do like this man."

  "No, I don'. At least not right at this very moment." She raised her voice. "Is my car still there, Remy?"

  "Sort of. It's been vandalized. Your fan was here and must have been in a really bad mood."

  That now-familiar uncomfortable heat whenever she was in Remy's presence was beginning to drift through her body, warming her in spite of the wet clothes. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She stank. She was in an impossible situation, looked like a drowned rat and she was getting all hot and bothered just at the sound of his voice.

  Remy stretched out carefully in the dirt and peered over the side. He needed to see for himself that she was alive and in one piece.

  "Look at me, Blue."

  He could see she was reluctant. He wasn't going to tell her that she looked beautiful, with mud smeared all over her and her thick braid looking like a drowned tail, but she did. He was thankful she was alive, although her shirt was nearly transparent and she was lying very close to another man--too close. He waited until her long lashes lifted and she looked him straight in the eye. The impact on his body felt like a wicked punch.

  His eyes met hers, assessing the damage. "You look like a drowned rat." She was close to tears, and if he said anything nice at all she would cry and then she wouldn't forgive him. His gaze shifted speculatively to Arnaud and then back to her. "What happened to your arm?"

  She huffed at him. He desperately needed to gather her up and hold her. She was hanging on by a thread--by her pride. She was cold, miserable and exhausted as well as embarrassed for him to see her looking and smelling as if she'd just gone for a swim in the bayou.

  The relief Remy felt at seeing Bijou alive made him feel weak. He was grateful he was lying on his belly, stretching his weight along the bank to keep it from crumbling. That gave him an excuse not to stand, because at that precise moment he wasn't altogether certain he could. He didn't like the close proximity of the other male. His leopard liked it even less, raging and snarling as wild and hard to control as Remy had ever known him to be.

  Bijou had to be close to the emerging for his leopard to be so difficult. That, and the scare she'd given them. When he'd seen the tracks of the SUV going over the bank, the cut ropes and saw the mess the stalker had made of her car, he'd felt physically ill.

  "I have more rope in the trunk of my car, Remy," Bijou said. "If you thread it through the master anchor we have on the tree and knot it, using the same knots, we can climb out of here."

  "No problem," Remy said, and slithered backward until he was certain he wouldn't bring the cliff down on top of them when he stood up.

  Gage came striding through the cypress grove. "What the hell happened here, Remy?" He demanded. "Is your woman alive? Okay?"

  "If he has a woman, she isn't here," Bijou called. "Should I expect la famille to show up, all one hundred of you, because I can assure you, I'm not adequately dressed for company."

  "I have a woman," Remy snapped between his teeth, "and she's extremely difficult. You should have stayed put, Blue." He walked quickly away before he erupted in temper. The leopard was pushing so hard he wanted to leap down and shake her. She'd scared him past anything he'd ever known before. Or his leopard. However it worked, they were connected, and she didn't have the right to run off because she was a little uncomfortable with how her first time had gone.

  "Of course you can expect la famille to show up. We get in each other's business. It's what we do best," Gage called down to her, unapologetic. "Glad you're alive there, Bijou. Who's your friend?"

  Remy halted in midstride. Yeah. Just who was her friend? What the hell were they doing together? And why would her leopard even allow him in such close prox
imity? He was going to have trouble with Bijou Breaux.

  "Stop snarlin'," Gage advised softly. "She's obviously gone through hell, Remy. That leopard of yours is gettin' out of control."

  "Arnaud Lefevre is with me," Bijou called out. "His SUV was driven over the side with all of his things by that crazy person."

  "Were the two of you inside?" Remy asked, lifting the trunk of her car and rummaging for her climbing bag. The thought of the suave, wealthy, sophisticated famous sculptor and Bijou together in his backseat was enough to have claws bursting through aching fingers. He breathed away the pain and forced his leopard under control.

  "No, we weren't inside." Impatience edged Bijou's voice. Her teeth were chattering.

  "We were really worried about you, Bijou," Gage intervened, shooting a glare at his brother. "You obviously ended up in the bayou. We'd like to know what happened."

  Bijou blinked back tears. "No one can be nice to me right now, Gage," she cautioned. She hated the quiver in her voice. She would not turn into a baby in front of Remy. She pressed a hand to her mouth. She needed to be alone, just for a few minutes to compose herself. It would help if she'd stop shaking.

  Remy mouthed the word see to his brother, frowning in caution. The last thing he wanted was for Bijou to cry in front of everyone and then blame him. He wouldn't be able to be cool with her tears and that would only embarrass her more. Gage might not like the way he handled things, but he knew Bijou better than she knew herself.

  Arnaud touched Bijou's arm awkwardly. "We'll get you out of here in time for your performance tonight."

  Bijou hadn't even thought of singing at the club. How could she have forgotten? She worked so hard to pull the club together, but all she wanted to do right now was crawl in bed and pull the covers over her head--after a long hot shower of course.

  "You'll be awesome tonight, Bijou," Arnaud assured her as if guessing her thoughts. "You're the consummate professional. You'll handle it just fine."

  Now she really had no choice but to buck up and be the professional, which was probably why Arnaud had said it. He knew she was an emotional wreck and was bolstering her up. He was right too. Both had survived when things could have gone very bad at any time. She took a deep breath and let it out.

  "I've got the rope," Remy called down to them, studying the webbing around the tree. The original carabiners were in place. The ropes had been cut off past those carabiners. He made short work of tying new knots, grateful for his time in the service and all the special training he'd had.

  Arnaud sent Bijou up first and he followed right behind her. Once they were safe, Remy stood absolutely still, almost without breathing, drinking in the sight of Bijou. She did smell like the bayou, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to him was that she was alive. He didn't give a damn what she said or thought. He yanked her into his arms, holding her tightly against his body, his hands moving over her, reassuring himself she was uninjured. She didn't melt into him, but rather held herself very stiff and aloof. Yeah, he was in trouble.

  Bijou pulled away from him almost immediately. "I'm getting you all wet and you'll have to throw away those clothes."

  "Do you think I give a damn about clothes? You could have died. What were you thinkin'? You should have stayed put and waited for me."

  She shook her head, a slow crimson creeping up her neck at the memory of waking to the ruined room and having to possibly face Saria, not knowing where Remy went or even if he intended to return. "No, Remy, you should have stayed put."

  She turned on her heel and walked away from him. Head up. Shoulders square. She looked regal in spite of the mud and wet clothes. She looked . . . magnificent.

  "You got it bad, bro," Gage whispered as he walked past Remy, a wide grin on his face. "You might want to close your mouth before somethin' flies into or out of it."

  Bijou went straight to her car and stood, unmoving, looking at the damage. Arnaud came up beside her, setting Remy's teeth on edge. She didn't look at Arnaud as if she wanted nothing to do with him.

  "What a mess," Arnaud said. "Why would someone do this?"

  Remy watched Bijou carefully. She inhaled sharply and stiffened. She knew. She'd caught the scent. The leopard in her was merging with her, becoming part of her, and with her acute sense of smell, she recognized the scent of the man who been stalking her.

  "Who is it, Blue?" Remy asked.

  She shook her head.

  "You know. He trashed my apartment this morning and left behind the picture of me kissing you. It wasn't pretty, Bijou. He's escalating his behavior."

  "It doesn't make sense. Bob Carson grew up in Bodrie's house. I've known him my entire life. He wouldn't do this."

  Remy's eyes met Gage's. Gage nodded. The moment he'd caught Carson's scent out on the road, he was certain it was the photographer who was stalking Bijou.

  "Don' kid yourself, honey," Remy said. "Tell me why he would take an eight-year-old child to a hotel room with a bunch of men and try to pump her full of drugs. He was probably figuring he'd get rid of you and Bodrie would leave everything to him."

  "You did remember him then. You didn't say a word."

  "I had a very primitive reaction to seeing him--I wanted to pound him into the ground." Remy paused, his gaze holding hers. "And you didn't say anything."

  "He has no reason to want to hurt me."

  "Of course he does. His mother lived with Bodrie until your mother came along. He probably fantasized he was Bodrie's son. If he could prove he was, he would have come forward already, so that means his fantasy became a reality in his head. You took it all away from him, the house, the women, the drugs, the lifestyle. He became a photographer and inserted himself back into Bodrie's life, and once again he was somebody. But he couldn't have it all because there you are, standin' in his way."

  Bijou shook her head.

  "On one hand, he probably fantasizes you're his sister, and on the other, he wants you gone so he can inherit."

  She scowled at Remy. "I'm not stupid, I have a will."

  "Which is probably the only reason you aren't dead. He hasn't figured out a way to inherit everythin' from you."

  "I don' know if it's him," Bijou insisted. "You can't do anything without proof anyway, so don' go after him, Remy. Please. I have to think about this."

  "You know it's him," Remy said quietly. "Bijou, you don' have a mean bone in your body. This man is escalatin' in his behavior and we both know it. That's why you even considered allowin' me to see the letters, otherwise you would never have said a word about them. You knew you were in trouble with him."

  "He's got to be ill," Bijou said. "To do this, he has to be ill."

  She touched the hood of her car. The tires were slashed and punctured repeatedly, obviously with a knife. The seats had been slashed and punctured, the insides ripped out and thrown all over the ground. On the outside of both sides of the car, a giant eye had been carved into the doors. "I see you" had been keyed in with crude sticklike letters. She'd seen the letters so many times with the same phrase on the walls of her home as well as in Bodrie's homes.

  Bijou shivered. Remy strode over to the sheriff's car and pulled out a jacket. Arnaud simply stood observing everyone.

  Gage cleared his throat. "We'll have a tow truck bring up your vehicle, but most likely it's a total loss. You might be able to recover some of your things though."

  Arnaud shrugged. "I didn't have anything I couldn't replace with me. Mostly my climbing gear and things I use for my sculptures. Rocks, petrified wood, different mediums I mix together. Those can be replaced. It will just take a little time to find the ones I need again." He patted the bag at his waist. "At least I didn't lose these rocks. It's what I came here for."

  "I'm so sorry about your truck and your things, Arnaud," Bijou said. "I feel like it's my fault this happened. I'll replace . . ."

  Arnaud held up his hand. "Don't be silly, Bijou. I'm just sorry this man is targeting you." He glanced at his watch. "You don't
have much time to clean up before your show. Maybe the sheriff wouldn't mind giving us both a lift into town."

  Remy wrapped the coat around Bijou's shivering body. "You don' have to do that show tonight, Blue. We can tell the band to cover for you."

  It was tempting. She was exhausted, confused, afraid, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and lick her wounds. They were all waiting. Arnaud with his expressionless face, just watching her. Remy and Gage clearly wanting her to go back to the Inn and forget about singing in the club, especially with Carson running loose. She knew he'd be there too. He always showed up to her performances.

  She lifted her chin. If she didn't sing tonight, Carson won. His ugly behavior had already taken its toll on her, but she couldn't allow him to win, especially after what he'd done to Arnaud. She could smell Bob Carson all over her vehicle. She didn't know why her sense of smell was so acute, but she definitely knew he'd been the one to destroy Arnaud's SUV and her car.

  "I'll be singin' tonight at the club, and if I don' get cleaned up fast, they'll have to fumigate the place after I leave."

  Gage gestured toward his car. "Your chariot. I've got a couple of officers on the way. They'll take care of the tow truck and photograph your car and all the evidence here, so Arnaud, if you'd like a ride as well, I'll be happy to take you back to your hotel."

  "I'd appreciate that," Arnaud said.

  "You'll both have to ride in the back so I can hose off the seats after," Gage added with a small grin.

  "I can't say as I blame you," Bijou said. "I'm holdin' my breath as best I can so I don' have to smell me."

  "Let's hope Saria doesn't make you hose off outside," Gage teased.

  Remy kept glancing back at Bijou huddled in the backseat. She didn't say another word, but stared out the window, her face set. Sad. Thoughtful. He was certain he was right about Bob Carson--that the night he'd interrupted them in the hotel so many years ago, the man had intended she die there. It made sense. If Carson believed Bijou and her mother had pushed Carson and his mother from Bodrie's life, he would certainly want her out of the way.

  He made a mental note to check on what happened to Carson's mother and where they'd lived during the years they'd been away from Bodrie's mansion. He glanced again into the rearview mirror. He should have been gentler with Bijou. She'd been through hell. She looked as if she had smudges under her eyes. and he winced a little when he saw the faint bruising along her neck. The rake marks on her arm could only have been put there by a leopard. He suspected she'd done that to herself without realizing what happened.