L06 Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  She looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. She was in a long gown that hugged her phenomenal figure, emphasizing her small waist and drawing attention to her full breasts and rounded hips. She was breathtaking as far as Remy was concerned and he had the feeling that a good number of the men in the audience felt the same.

  Each set seemed better than the last. He knew she’d suffered trauma, and yet she was totally relaxed, genuinely smiling and very friendly to her audience—completely different while performing than when she was simply Bijou. Bijou was shy and withdrawn, but as a singer, she was confident and smooth, and very sexy.

  Her voice burned through his skin to sink into his bones. It sounded like a cliché to him but she took his breath away standing up there, belting out her soulful, bluesy song so effortlessly, the notes so clean and pure, yet blending one into the other until she took them all on a journey with her of heartache and need.

  He was a man who was extremely cynical. Even more than that, he didn’t trust anyone, not with his job, yet when he looked at her, his heart pounded, his mouth went dry and his body went as hard as a rock. He was a man always in control, and yet with Bijou, he was on the edge, or lost it completely. His mind was always logical, everything in his world had to make sense, because the killing never did. It wasn’t logical to fall for Bijou Breaux.

  She had too many interested men gawking at her. He was the jealous type—well—not him—his leopard. She had too much money. He couldn’t even conceive of the kind of money she had. She was in need of rescuing and refused to even consider that possibility. Worse, she stood up to him, which was exactly what he wanted and needed in a woman, but not when it didn’t suit him.

  He swore under his breath for about the tenth time. And that was another thing wrong with her—she made him swear and he wasn’t the swearing kind.

  Gage nudged him. “You’re doin’ it again, bro. You’re actin’ like a fish out of water gaspin’ for breath.” He grinned at Remy’s dark scowl. “I’ve never seen anyone have it so bad. Not even Drake, and he was just a fool for our sister. You can’t stop starin’ at her, and you’re lookin’ at her like any moment you’re going to be carryin’ her off to a cave somewhere.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Remy snapped, unrepentant. “The cavemen had something going for them after all. She doesn’t have to do that thing with her hips when she’s walkin’ through the crowd. What’s up with that?”

  “You’re supposed to be lookin’ out for her, not gettin’ all hot and bothered,” Gage pointed out. “You’re losin’ your edge, Remy.”

  “That’s a little difficult,” Remy admitted, and forced himself to look around the room. Ryan Cooper, Brent Underwood and Tom Berlander were at a table close to the front with Robert Lanoux and two men who looked vaguely familiar. All of them were drinking heavily, even Robert, and shifters just didn’t do that to their leopards. Remy didn’t like the way any of them was looking at Bijou. Every now and then the two men he should have been able to identify, but couldn’t, leaned close to whisper something to Ryan and Ryan would scowl up at Bijou and mutter something.

  Remy nudged Gage. “Those two men with Ryan Cooper, do you know them?”

  “Jean and Juste Rousseau, a couple of punks who always seem just on the outside of the play, but I’ve suspected for a very long time they’re the ringleaders. I see them around some of the criminal elements, but they’re always quiet and we’ve never caught them at anything.”

  “I recognize the names, now that you say them. Their names came up in the investigation of the bone harvester four years ago. They were friends with one of the victims and I remember bringin’ them in and askin’ questions . . . but they don’ look the same.”

  Gage nodded. “Yeah, they changed their hair color from dark to that sandy blond. I think they’re tryin’ to be surfers. They went out to California for a while to visit their mama and I guess the idea of bein’ surfin’ bums was too much to pass up.” He snickered. “They’ve been gone a few years. Maybe their mama got tired of supportin’ their lifestyle and sent them back to their daddy.”

  “How do you know so much about them?” Remy asked. “I only interviewed them once, they didn’t seem a good fit, and had nothin’ to add to the investigation, so I put them out of my mind.”

  “You haven’t driven the streets like I’ve been doin’. A few years ago, around the time of the killin’s, there was petty vandalism goin’ on, mostly homes of the elderly and the poor, but someone was beatin’ the hell out of the occupants. None of the incidents occurred in New Orleans, but more in the outlying parish. No one died, but it was pretty ugly.”

  “And they were suspects?” Remy’s gaze flickered once more to the table where Cooper and his friends were getting louder.

  He’d always wondered at the possibility of two men committing the murders. The murders were messy and all over the place, yet the altar was exact, meticulous even. He could never find evidence of two killers, but the bone harvester could easily be a team.

  “I had a hunch, but there was never any hard evidence at any of the break-ins.” Gage shrugged. “Now that they’re back, the break-ins have started again.”

  Remy observed the two men for a few minutes. “They whisper to Ryan, and they’re the ones buying the drinks. I think they’re eggin’ him on.”

  “I noticed that as well,” Gage said.

  Remy had always respected Gage. He held all of his brothers in high esteem, but since Gage had become the sheriff, he’d grown very serious about his work and he was damn good at it. “Is it possible they’re a killin’ team?”

  Gage frowned, studying the two men. “Are they capable of it? I would say yes. I think sooner or later they will kill someone. These break-ins are definitely not about the money. Whoever is beatin’ the elderly is doin’ it for fun.”

  “You don’ get a scent?”

  Remy’s pulse jumped. There was never a scent left behind at the bone harvester’s kills. Not one that Remy could catch, and his leopard was always close to the surface. The victim was always so fearful, sweat pouring off of them, the blood and intestines and bowels obliterating any scent the leopard might pick up, which was highly unusual. Leopards had a tremendous sense of smell, and Remy’s had always been a huge asset to his career, yet his cat had never been able to pick up the scent of the bone harvester. How could Gage’s leopard not pick up the scent of the violent home invaders?

  “I definitely have caught their scents at the homes, but the problem is, they work odd jobs and they’ve done work at all the homes. They aren’t the only ones either. It’s a perfect way to get an in with those livin’ in the houses, and every single one of the victims describes the masked intruders differently.”

  “I don’ like that Robert is runnin’ with them,” Remy commented, frowning.

  “Yeah, I’ve been particularly worried about the relationship for some time, and I know his brother Dion has tried to get him away from them,” Gage responded.

  “Could the Rousseau brothers be runnin’ a crew to do the break-ins?”

  Gage shrugged. “I’d believe anything is possible at this point. But they’d have to be very smart to pull it off and never get caught. Why would they think if their crew got popped, they wouldn’t be named?”

  “Because they are smart. Maybe they’re certain nothin’ can be traced back to them.”

  “Still,” Gage said, “it’s possible you might want to look a little closer at them for the bone harvester’s murders. They left around the time the murders stopped and they’ve been back long enough to establish themselves and begin again.”

  “You should have told me about them,” Remy pointed out. His leopard was snarling and raking at him, wanting freedom with the two brothers in such close proximity to Bijou.

  Gage shrugged. “I had no idea you were considerin’ them for the murders.”

  Remy had to be fair, although he didn’t feel fair; he felt like raging and raking his claws up and down the walls
to claim his territory and warn all others away. He’d spotted several leopard males in the room, all with their attention focused, even fixated on Bijou as she performed. She looked alluring, sexy, her body moving subtly beneath that figure-hugging gown. She’d caught his attention again and he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her.

  “That’s true,” he murmured.

  There she went again, moving through the crowd instead of staying on the small stage close to the band where her bodyguards could stop any trouble before it started. He winced visibly when she stepped backward so gracefully, her hips swaying as she poured herself into her music. That small step took her a little too close to Arnaud, and his leopard pushed close to the surface, causing a wave of itching as fur threatened to burst through his skin. His joints hurt. His jaw ached.

  Remy breathed deep and called on years of discipline to subdue his leopard. He breathed away the pain and worked his jaw to keep teeth from bursting through.

  Gage nudged him, clearly attempting to distract him. Both knew just how dangerous a male leopard could be with his mate emerging for the first time. “See that man, third table to the right, fourth row. He was the one starin’ through the window of the café when Bijou was there. You asked everyone to keep their eyes out for him. His name is Jason Durang and he works for Bijou’s manager. Rob Butterfield, her manager, has been in town awhile now. They both arrived within a few days of Bijou. Durang has been doggin’ her, followin’ her everywhere and reportin’ back to her manager.”

  Remy frowned. “He’s not her stalker. Bob Carson is definitely the man stalking her. I smelled his scent all over her car and even on the ropes he cut. He makes more sense. He has to blame her for his life. I called Angelina at the office and asked her to look up Carson and what happened to him during the years with his mother after they left Bodrie’s mansion. She was a major drug user and became a prostitute to feed her habit. Her son was dragged around from city to city, following Bodrie wherever he was, but they weren’t allowed to live in the mansion until after Bijou’s mother died.”

  “How did Bijou’s mother die?” Gage asked.

  “She died under suspicious circumstances, which only gained Bodrie more sympathy. She’d just had Bijou, and Bodrie went on a tour. Bijou’s mother left the baby at the mansion and supposedly went for a drive. Her car and body were found over in the next parish, the car wrapped around a tree. It didn’t make sense for her to leave the baby behind. And some of the officers put in their reports that they didn’t believe she was the driver.”

  “You don’ believe it now, either, do you?”

  “If Carson’s mother decided to kill Bodrie’s wife, and she had her son help her at such an impressionable age, he would be one mixed-up kid,” Remy said.

  “But if she was leopard . . .” Gage protested.

  “She had head injuries and the medical examiner couldn’t tell if she had some prior to the accident. The case remained open because he wouldn’t rule either way.”

  “Damn it, Remy, Bijou is in real trouble, isn’t she?”

  Remy nodded slowly. “I don’ believe her manager has her best interests at heart either. I don’ know what he has in mind, but clearly he’s here for a reason and it can’t be good. They’re comin’ at her from every direction.”

  Gage’s jaw tightened. “Are you certain she’s your mate?”

  “You keep askin’ me that, Gage, what do you think?”

  Gage swore under his breath. “Then it’s war, Remy. She’s one of ours, and if they come at one of us, they’re goin’ to have to take us all on. I’ll call the boys.”

  “Have one of them stay on her manager and that jackass who keeps starin’ at her. I don’ like his expression. It isn’t admiration,” Remy pointed out.

  Gage turned to observe Durang and Butterfield. They kept putting their heads together whispering, all the while watching Bijou perform. The crowd had gone wild with her last song and now was eerily silent, as she sang a weeping, bluesy ballad that was heartrending. There was something about her voice that crawled under the skin, sank deep into bones and stayed there, making anyone hearing her feel every emotion as she poured her heart out.

  Clearly her manager and Durang had heard her many times and weren’t quite as enamored with her as the rest of the crowd. Butterfield stared at her with an ugly expression on his face, one that had Remy’s leopard snarling and raking at him all over again.

  “I’m goin’ to have Angelina dig around a little into both of their backgrounds and see what she can uncover,” Remy said. “Butterfield doesn’t want Bijoux doing this, but he can’t exactly kill the golden goose.”

  “Do managers take out insurance policies on their big-name clients?” Gage asked.

  Remy turned his head slowly to look at his brother. Their eyes met. Remy swore and stepped out of the club to use his cell phone. He wanted the information fast. He needed it. Bijou’s life could very well depend on it. Angelina was very good at her job, and he had no doubt he’d know a lot more about Bijou’s manager and his shadowy friend within the hour.

  Remy stepped back into the club just as the band swang into a sultry, steamy number. Bijou’s voice seduced the crowd until they appeared almost mesmerized. He’d seen her do the same thing at a concert, a few years back when he couldn’t stop himself from going to see her perform. Curiosity, nothing more, he’d assured himself.

  She stood on the stage and looked ethereal, beautiful and so not of the world, Remy hadn’t believed it was actually Bijou. Her hair fell to her waist, thick and glossy, the kind of hair a man got lost in. She’d been far too seductive to equate her with the gawky teen he’d caught glimpses of when she hung out with his sister. She was even more beautiful now.

  Remy found he didn’t dare look at her, not if he was going to protect her. There was an undercurrent in the room his leopard sensed that kept the cat prowling close to the surface. It was an expectation, an awareness of danger. His belly was in knots, his muscles coiled and ready. He didn’t know for certain where the threat would come from, but it was safe to say, it would come.

  Remy frowned as two of Drake’s men shifted positions. They were acting as bodyguards for Bijou, and he wasn’t entirely happy about it. Joshua Tregre had shaggy sun-bleached hair and piercing green-blue eyes. He was a man with a strong build, carrying the heavy muscles of their kind—a leopard—and he was fast. Very fast. Remy appreciated that trait, but he knew how dangerous the emerging of a female leopard could be, and just how difficult it could be on any male in the vicinity.

  Elijah Lospostos was a steely-eyed, far too handsome man, with a wealth of gleaming black hair spilling into eyes the color of mercury one moment and as dark as night the next. He was tough and extremely dangerous, a good man to have on Bijou’s side—but he also was an unmated leopard. Drake had chosen both men to work at Bijou’s club on her nights to perform because they were dangerous and fast and could protect. The leader of the lair hadn’t known Bijou was leopard as well and that she was entering the Han Vol Dan.

  Remy gritted his teeth and took a long, slow look around the room. What had the two leopards up front, close to Bijou, seen that he hadn’t from his position in the back of the room? He shifted, his gaze scanning the large overcrowded club. He spotted several male leopards in the room, not surprising because their lair was small, but most of the males were unmated and that added to the undercurrent of danger.

  The song ended and the crowd went wild, clapping and stomping feet. Bijou smiled and gracefully made her way to Arnaud’s table as the band went into an upbeat, dance melody. A few couples bravely took to the dance floor while others sipped at their drinks and tried to work up the courage to ask for Bijou’s autograph.

  Remy frowned as Arnaud rose to hold her chair for her. She shouldn’t be sitting with him, she should be with Remy—under Remy’s protection.

  “You’re rumbling,” Gage cautioned. “Remy, this is turning into a bad situation. Have you thought about asking her to leave with y
ou?”

  He’d thought about throwing her over his shoulder and just taking her out whether she liked it or not, but it wouldn’t earn him any points with her. No way was she going to be reasonable if he said he needed to talk to her. The time to talk had been when she woke up.

  “She’s only got one more set and she’s done,” Remy said. “If we’re lucky we can get through that, and I’ll get her out of here and have the talk with her.”

  Gage snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be talkin’ to her.”

  “I have to tell her about her leopard.”

  “And if for some reason her female never emerges?”

  Remy took a deep breath. “Then she’ll think I’m crazy, and I’ll have to prove to her I’m not. Either way, she’s mine and I’m goin’ to tell her the truth about what I am and what she is.”

  Gage’s gaze shifted to Bijou. Her profile was to him and she was laughing. Lights shifted over her face as she leaned toward Arnaud and said something. “Are you certain she’s your mate? This isn’t about sex? Because she’s beautiful, Remy, and it would be easy enough to get things mixed up.”

  “Damn it, Gage.” Remy’s frustration nearly exploded at his brother. “Quit askin’ the same damn thing every few minutes. Nothin’ has changed and nothin’ can change. I’ve marked her as mine. She is mine. There’s just a little matter of persuadin’ her, and it’s done. I don’ care if her leopard emerges or not, she belongs to me and no one and nothin’ is goin’ to stand in my way. Is that clear enough?”

  Gage shrugged, hiding his grin and deliberately goading his brother further. “Lust has a funny way of colorin’ a man’s perspective, brother, but since you’re so certain and all, I’ve got a text from the boys sayin’ they’re on the way, so we should have reinforcements soon.”

  “Good. The feelin’ of impendin’ doom is not goin’ away.” And if his brother kept asking him the same question over and over, doomsday was going to start with Gage.