Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  "Clearly he's practicing black magic, summoning demons to aid him, right?"

  Eulalie smiled at him. Bijou couldn't help noticing how the rows of long braids emphasized her beautiful cheekbones and the way her smile lit up her dark eyes. "You've been reading. I suspect he's reading as well, but he's never gone to a practitioner before. He's mixing things up. His altar is far better than a few years ago, I'll give him that."

  "But he isn't really a follower of voodoo?" Remy prompted. "A bokor perhaps? One who focuses on dark magic rather than light?"

  Eulalie shook her head. "Certainly not in the traditional sense. In traditional voodoo, a human sacrifice would be considered extremely objectionable. I can't say it doesn't ever go on. In any religion you have people with sadistic natures who covet power above all else, but certainly he would be the exception, and, Remy, I would hear of him."

  Remy frowned and brought up their joined hands, rubbing Bijou's knuckles back and forth over his jaw. The gesture was not only unnerving, but she found it intimate. He was so used to being flirtatious he didn't even seem to notice, but she couldn't summon the will to pull away from him.

  "Why don' you believe he's a real practitioner, Eulalie?"

  It was her turn to frown. "Nothing is right about any of his rituals. He changes them to suit him and you just can't do that. I would have to say he's never had a teacher, at least that's my best guess. Where I might use water, he had blood. He has a sacrifice. I'd use an apple, he has an actual heart."

  "He's bastardizin' actual rituals," Remy asked, trying to understand.

  "Yes. Exactly. But he's also mixing them up, which makes me think he's just getting everything out of a book. The hanging man's hand must be cut off while the victim is still hanging, but then it's dried over a fire. If he truly knew what he was doing, he could eventually create a handyman as it were to carry out his orders. He did tie candles to the fingers, which, if you didn't dip the hand in oil ahead of time to use as candles, then you'd do it that way."

  "I'm particularly interested in the string with the knots."

  Something in Remy's voice, although he sounded very casual, maybe too casual, centered Bijou's attention on the answer. Whatever that string meant, Remy considered important.

  Eulalie nodded. "Ah, yes, that is a definite misfit of a ritual in the middle of all this. The seven knots in the string can be used to bind a woman or man to you, to ask for them to love you, but the string should be put under your pillow, not into a bowl of blood. He turned the string red using the blood, but it isn't the same thing. The candle is thrown into running water. And there were no symbols on the ground anywhere. No protections. No god or deity or even a demon he's distinctly calling on. Nothing at all to say what he's doing. Remy, these rituals are sacred. We don't abuse them and we don't dare make mistakes. You don't play around with this."

  "Thanks, Eulalie," Remy said. "Can I call you on your cell if I need to discuss more with you?"

  "Of course. I'll help in any way I can," she assured. "Why was the string so important?"

  "Because he's never done it before," Remy said.

  5

  IN the dark of Saria's kitchen, Remy paced restlessly back and forth. He was silent, not making a sound as he moved across the tiled floor. His leopard was riding him hard and he knew he had to let the animal out for a run, but there was danger if what he suspected was true.

  Blue was leopard. Well . . . maybe she was leopard. Remy considered the ramifications for her. Bijou had no idea who her mother was, and in any case, her mother, had she lived, would not have been able to tell her daughter about her heritage, just in case Bijou couldn't shift. Bodrie was no leopard, and he certainly hadn't known what he had in Bijou.

  Female leopards didn't emerge unless the human counterpart and the leopard both came into cycle at the same time. Only at that time could a woman's leopard emerge for the first time. It was an extremely dangerous time for all male leopards. Blue would be extremely alluring and yet, if not ready, moody and edgy.

  A few days ago, there in the store, Bijou's eyes had changed from that amazing blue to a lethal glacier blue when Eulalie had kissed him on the cheek. Maybe Remy had wanted Bijou to be the one. He had all but given up looking for a mate, and now Bijou was back in his territory and in spite of the age difference, he couldn't get his mind off of her. She was beautiful and intriguing. He knew she was intelligent. She was talented and had a good sense of humor. He liked being in her company.

  He was man enough to admit to himself that he was a strong dominant and needed a woman who could stand up to him when he became too overbearing, as Saria often accused him of being. His career was important to him. He believed what he did made a difference and often he was gone long hours. He needed a woman with her own life, career and independence, yet one who would need him the way he would her.

  Earlier in the week in Bijou's company, without warning, his leopard had gone from a jealous, snarling lethal cat to . . . oh baby . . . there you are. The moment was gone, the scent of a female close to her time was gone, but for whatever reason--his cat accepted Bijou Breaux.

  He scented his sister just before she stepped into the kitchen. Like him, she was silent when she walked, and she didn't bother with the lights. She froze and turned very slowly toward the corner where the darker shadows hid him completely.

  "Remy?"

  "Why aren't you sleepin', Saria?" he asked.

  "Drake's not here. He left yesterday for Texas to see Jake and Emma. We were hopin' to persuade them to come for a visit, but Emma just found out she's pregnant and Drake says Jake is freakin' out. The doctors weren't certain she could ever have another baby. She nearly died in childbirth. Jake was adamant that they not have another child, but apparently birth control doesn't always work on leopards."

  "Jake Bannaconni? Freakin' out?" Remy shook his head. "That man is stone."

  "True, unless he's around his kids or Emma," Saria said. "Drake said Jake is scary crazy over Emma. He was pretty upset that she was pregnant again. Drake went to calm him down."

  "Drake's pretty good at that."

  "I miss him. I thought if I drank some hot chocolate I'd feel better." She sent him a small smile. "Chocolate will keep me out of the swamp. I hate sleepin' without Drake, and nights when he's gone I usually make my trips to do my night photography so it isn't so bad without him." She sounded distracted, as if she was leaving an important piece of information out.

  "Thanks for not goin'," Remy said, choosing his words carefully. "I know it's difficult for you to change your routine, especially when you've got a paying client. I really appreciate that I don' have to worry about you."

  "You sound tired, Remy."

  He toed a chair around and sank down into it, studying his sister's face. She looked strained, something rare for Saria. She was self-possessed, sure of herself and uncaring of other people's opinions of her. It was unlike her to be so restless with Drake gone.

  "I am tired," he admitted. Handling Saria took care. One didn't leap in with her. You gave a little to get something back. He was a skilled interrogator and once in a while he could coax his independent sister to tell him what was troubling her--and something definitely was. He rubbed the back of his neck knowing her cat's eyes would be able to see the gesture there in the dark. "Talk to me."

  Saria crossed to the counter, putting her hand on the coffeemaker to test the heat. "You aren't drinkin' coffee are you?"

  "No. I figured I'm already jacked up, I don' need coffee to keep the buzz goin'."

  "You always get this way when you're worried, Remy. Is it Pete's murder?"

  Remy shrugged. "If the killer stays with the pattern he had four years ago, he'll be hittin' tonight or tomorrow night and I'm no closer to catchin' him then I was when he struck back then. For all the evidence he leaves at the crime scene, so far, nothin' links anyone. I don' even have a single suspect, and he's goin' to kill another innocent person. Someone with a family. Pete was a damned good man."
<
br />   Saria put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Yes he was. You'll get him this time, Remy, I know you will." She pulled up the chair beside his and sat down, leaning toward him. "I know you always think you're responsible for everyone around you, but you aren't. You can only do so much."

  "I suppose that's the truth," he agreed. "But it doesn't make me feel any better. Gage and I have worked night and day on this case, and we're no closer to findin' the killer. I'm just really grateful you're stayin' out of the swamps no matter the reason."

  Saria pressed her lips together and pushed back into her chair. There it was. She was on the verge of telling him, but obviously hesitating. Remy made a show of massaging his neck, wincing a little.

  "I do have some news," Saria said reluctantly, not looking at him directly. "Part of the reason I'm not going into the swamp is because I'm going to have a baby and I don' want to risk a problem."

  "Saria!" He hadn't been expecting that. He leaned toward her, covered her hand with his. "Aren't you happy about it? What's wrong? Have you told Drake?" He'd kick his brother-in-law in the ass for leaving her when she was obviously upset.

  Saria shook her head. "I haven't said anythin' to him. I wasn't certain before he left and after he was gone, I took a test. I wasn't really sure I wanted to know, but the thingie came up positive, which I have to tell you was a little shockin'."

  "So you were using birth control," Remy guessed. "And it didn't work for you?"

  "It certainly did not. Male leopards ought to come with a warnin' label." She gave a small sniff and kept her head turned away from him.

  Remy didn't know if she was sniffing in disdain at male leopards, or if she was on the verge of tears--and Saria rarely cried. He was treading a minefield if Saria was crying. "Do you want a baby, Saria?" He asked the question straight out. Skirting around the issue wouldn't do any good and would only make her clam up. She hadn't told Drake and she could have called him, but she hadn't. "Is everythin' all right between you and Drake?"

  Saria pressed her hand to her forehead, leaning her elbow on the table in a gesture of weariness. "Drake and I are fine. It's not that." She sighed without lifting her head. "It's me, Remy. I never had a mother, or father for that matter." She did look at him then and there was stark fear in her eyes. "How would I possibly know how to be a decent parent? It's not like babies come with manuals. You're supposed to know all that before you ever have one. I was being so careful so this wouldn't happen."

  Remy didn't make the mistake of reacting. He turned over what she'd revealed in his mind, studying her statement from every angle. She feared becoming a parent, and truthfully he didn't blame her. She wasn't old enough to remember their father as a happy man. He'd gotten drunk when his wife got sick and stayed that way permanently after she died. Saria had practically raised herself.

  "I can see what you're thinking," Remy conceded in a thoughtful tone. "You didn't have the best example in the world of parenting, did you? I certainly wasn't any help."

  "I didn't mean that," Saria said hastily, her dark eyes meeting his. "Maybe I was angry at all of you for a few minutes there, but mostly it was because I felt left out, not because I was alone with mon pere."

  "Still, I should have protected you more. He was never really present in your life."

  "I never was very good at accepting protection, Remy," Saria confessed. "And you were gone. In the service, travelin'. All of you had lives."

  "That's no excuse, Saria. But, the point is, you took care of mon pere. By yourself. When you were just a little girl. You kept the house and you cooked for him. You even ran the bar when he was too drunk to do it. You fished, shrimped, and you hunted alligators. You can do anythin'. Having a baby will be nothing for you."

  "That's nice of you to say, Remy," Saria said. "I wish I could believe you. I'm absolutely terrified."

  He frowned at her, trying not to be upset. "Are you thinkin' of getting rid of the baby and not tellin' Drake?" He couldn't conceive of Saria doing such a thing. She was honest almost to a fault.

  She looked so horrified he had his answer.

  "Of course not. I'm goin' to tell him. I just need to get my head right is all. And lately, it hasn't been so right." She rubbed at her temples as if she had a headache. "It was just as well Jake called and needed Drake to make the trip to Texas. I haven't been so nice lately."

  "To Drake?" Remy prompted.

  "It's just that I'm horribly moody. Or edgy. I don' know the right word for it." She made a face, her eyes filled with self-loathing. "I found myself getting' jealous of Bijou, and she's one of my oldest friends." She made the confession in a little ashamed rush. "I'm not a jealous person. I'm really not, Remy. Bijou's--broken. She needs friends. She needs me and I'm actin' like an idiot. Oh, not to her face, but inside, especially when Drake's in the house, I find myself wantin' to claw her eyes out."

  Remy let his breath out and sat up straighter. There it was. The confirmation he was looking for. "It's all right, Saria . . ."

  "No, it's not," Saria was adamant. "I don' want to be that kind of person, especially toward a friend of mine. I've never cared about anyone being attractive--which she is. She needs me right now. She's afraid of somethin' and she's come home. I can't turn into a jealous, spitting, nasty cat because I'm pregnant."

  "I doubt that's it," Remy soothed.

  She glared at him. "What else could it be? I'm never like this. I don' cling to my husband. I don' distrust him around other women. I've never been just plain mean, especially to him. He doesn't say anythin', but I know he's going to soon and I'll deserve anythin' he says."

  "He'll understand," Remy assured. Drake was a patient man, quick to explode into violence only when needed. As a rule he was quite calm and thoughtful. Remy couldn't imagine him getting impatient with Saria.

  "I wish it was just Drake," Saria said. "I'm so jealous of poor Bijou I could spit. Sometimes, with no warnin' I just want to leap on her and scratch her eyes out, and that's a polite way of saying what I really want to do."

  She blinked rapidly, and his heart jumped. Saria was definitely fighting tears and it wasn't fair to her to let her think she had suddenly become a jealous woman because she was pregnant and felt terrified at the thought of being a mother because she had no parenting.

  "I think Bijou's leopard and she's on the verge of the Han Vol Dan," Remy stated quietly.

  In the ensuing silence, Remy heard the clock tick and the rapid beat of his sister's heart. Her eyes went wide with shock. Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. She shook her head. He nodded.

  Saira frowned, jumping up to pace restlessly. She shook her head again. "Remy. No. That's impossible. Her father . . ."

  "I know her father was no leopard, but we know nothin' of her mother or her mother's family. It's entirely possible and I'm almost certain I'm right. Your leopard would react to the close proximity of a female leopard on the verge of the Han Vol Dan. Basically, she's comin' into heat around your male and you're pregnant."

  "That's just crazy." She kept shaking her head. "Bijou is . . ."

  Remy felt his leopard leap in protest, or maybe it was the man. "Don' say she isn't strong. You don' know the half of what she's been through. Anyone can reach a breakin' point, Saria. Bijou found her way when she was just a child and she's still going strong."

  Saria didn't reply. She simply looked at him, and there was accusation in her eyes. He knew he'd made a mistake jumping to Bijou's defense when Saria hadn't actually said anything disparaging. He didn't make mistakes like that--and Saria knew it. He cursed silently in his native Cajun French, keeping his expression blank.

  "Remy . . . no. You are not goin' to chase after her. I mean it. You've already made her cry." She regarded with him with her dark brown eyes, her steady stare a mix of leopard and human, eyes already taking on the glow of her leopard. "I hear her at night. She won't talk to me about it so I know she's cryin' over you."

  "I hear her too," Remy admitted, stretching, trying to ease sore m
uscles. Saria's couch was very comfortable and he wished he'd been sleeping on it. He was getting too old to be sleeping in a little chair on a cold balcony, which he'd done for three nights running. "What makes you think I have anything at all to do with her cryin'?"

  "Because I know you, Remy. You make people confess to anythin' and you no doubt made that poor girl cry." Saria put both hands on her hips and stared him down. "You've been grillin' that girl about something and she's upset." She leveled her glare at him. "You haven't touched her, have you?"

  "That's none of your business, ma soeur. She's got a stalker after her. She's not takin' it very seriously, but, Saria, I'm tellin' you this man is dangerous and he's not going to stop. He's extremely dangerous, the kind that ends up killin' the woman if he can't have her."

  Saria was silent for a moment, but those cat's eyes never left his face. She shook her head again. "What are you up to, Remy?"

  "He's not going to like her havin' a man in her life. He'll get mad and make a mistake, and I'll be there to take him down."

  "No." Saria stated the word quite fiercely.

  For a woman so much younger than he was, Remy had to admire her courage. He wasn't a man most people--man or woman--ever chose to go up against. His little sister had no such qualms. He raised his eyebrow and remained silent.

  "I mean it, Remy. She's . . . susceptible. You can't pretend to be her boyfriend just to bring some stalker out into the open. I know you. You'll decide she can't know because she won't act natural. You can't pretend to care for her . . ."

  They both scented lavender and leopard at the exact same moment. Remy was already gliding toward the door, more leopard than man in that moment. His leopard went wild--crazy. Snarling and raking, desperate to emerge. He couldn't imagine what Saria's cat was like, scenting a female close to her time.

  "I'll go." He managed to bite out the two words. "You get out of here. Go to my house in the bayou."

  Saria was definitely struggling to control her female. "She heard me, Remy." Her voice had gone husky, gravelly, fur running under her skin as her leopard fought for supremacy.

  His breath hissed out of his lungs. There was no more doubt, Bijou was definitely leopard and she was close to the emerging. Every single male in the lair would be driven insane, and Drake, the only voice of reason, was gone. Remy cursed as he padded down the hall on silent feet. Bijou had heard every word Saria had said and she would believe it was true. It smacked of being true. There was no doubt he was a man who might do that very thing to bring a dangerous adversary into the light. There was every reason for Bijou to believe what Saria said. Hell. Saria believed it and she was his sister.