Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  He examined the wall approximately three feet from the bottom. Intrigued, she squatted low and peered at the dirt, trying to see what he was looking for.

  "No one else can find exactly what I need for each project. I actually scheduled a visit to the gallery here because I need some of the colors I can get from this little cache. I can get the banded agate, but here . . ." He broke off, using the brush like an archeology tool, exposing the rock beneath. "Here I can find various hues you don't find very many other places."

  "I had no idea," Bijou admitted, finding the entire idea of elegant, sophisticated Arnaud Lefevre, in his thousand-dollar suit, mining for stone in a dangerous, mosquito-infested swamp fascinating. He was totally focused on the task of gently brushing away the dirt to find his hidden treasure. She'd seen him in the studio and he clearly hadn't even noticed anyone around him, time passing or anything else. He was the same way now, taking the same care with his hunt for the perfect color agate for his sculpture.

  His patient brushing revealed a small vein of pale blue, almost purple and blue-green rocks. He continued brushing away the loose dirt so more colors were exposed.

  Bijou gasped. "Those colors are beautiful."

  "Even more so when I work with them," he said almost absently. He took the fork and meticulously began prying the pastel purple rock free. He was careful not to scrape it, digging around the edges to free the small stone.

  "Do you already know what you're goin' to use it for?" Bijou asked. "Do you actually have a sculpture in mind?"

  He nodded. "I draw what's in my head and then figure out which mediums I'm going to use and how best to get what's in my head to come to life."

  "Arnaud." She waited until he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "You know you're a genius, don' you? No one in the world can do what you do."

  He studied her face for a long time. "No one ever says the things to me that you do, Bijou, not and really mean them. I can see honesty in your eyes and hear it in your voice. You always have inspired me with your generosity of spirit. Sometimes when I read the tabloids, I find myself getting angry at the way they portray you, and it surprises me. I don't get angry, or feel much emotion unless I'm creating."

  Bijou couldn't help but hear the sincerity in his voice. He wasn't making a declaration of love--he never did. She could tell he felt great affection for her, as she did him, but something just didn't quite gel between them, not in a romantic way.

  "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, Arnaud. Thank you," she said. "And yes, the tabloids seem to really enjoy making up an entirely different life for me. There's one photographer who is the biggest pain in the neck. He loves to follow me around, take pictures when I'm unaware and then make up some ridiculous story behind the photograph." She sighed. "He's here in New Orleans and already dogging my every footstep."

  Arnaud turned back to brushing away dirt from the stones. "Can't you file a harassment suit? There must be some way to get rid of him."

  She shrugged. "Someone else would just take his place, and I guess it's a case of the devil you know. Bob Carson used to live with my father. He was about fourteen or fifteen when I was born. When he moved out of our home, he'd still come over every day to see Bodrie."

  "So he was your friend and now he hounds you to make money off of you?" Arnaud asked, as he carefully began to pry the small stone free.

  "I wouldn't say we were ever friends. By the time I was old enough to know who he was, he was takin' advantage of the women around Bodrie, usin' drugs and drinkin'. He traveled with Bodrie as his personal photographer and made a huge name for himself in the business. Of course he always made Bodrie look good."

  Bob Carson had taken her to the hotel the night Remy found her, bringing his friends and drugs and alcohol. She was still embarrassed to be around him. Remy hadn't recognized that young man he'd beat to a bloody pulp that night--or if he had he hadn't said anything to her when Bob had photographed him kissing her.

  Arnaud glanced at her over his shoulder as if reading her mind. "He makes you uneasy." He dropped a purplish stone into his bag.

  She hadn't meant to reveal so much. "All paparazzi make me uneasy," she hedged.

  He laughed softly. "The thing is, Bijou, you can't lie worth a damn. It's one of the many reasons why you can't stand the business you're in. You tell the truth, and when you don't, you're embarrassed. I'm your friend. You can tell me he makes you uneasy and it isn't going to end up in the tabloids. I keep your confidences and your secrets. I always have."

  "I know. I'm sorry, Arnaud. I think I'm so used to being careful about what I say, that it's habit." She did feel ashamed. She didn't see Arnaud often, but when she did, he was always the same. Steady. Calm. Definitely someone who valued his friendship with her and asked for nothing in return. He didn't seem to care who her father was, or how much money she had. He never changed. "I'm grateful for our friendship."

  "Me too."

  Already the moment was over and he was looking at his precious stones, sinking another one inside his bag with almost loving care and turning his attention to his next choice.

  Bijou shook her head. Arnaud was trying, but clearly she wasn't really there. He was totally absorbed in what he was doing. She watched quietly for a few minutes, admiring his dedication and somewhat fascinated by his complete concentration. He was wholly focused on what he was doing, prying two more rocks free and dropping them carefully in the bag hanging from his tool belt. She had the feeling if an alligator did get curious and rushed at them from the water he wouldn't notice.

  Without warning a shiver went down her spine. That strange wave beneath her skin rose like an itch that couldn't be scratched. More, something wild and feral deep inside unfurled, leapt and pushed against her in alarm. She turned toward the water, half expecting a huge alligator to be attacking. Only then was she aware of the silence. The bayous and swamps were never really silent. As a rule, insects droned incessantly and they had suddenly ceased making any noise above their heads.

  Glancing down at her vibrating rope attached to her harness, she touched it lightly, feeling the sudden tension. Instinctively she stepped around Arnaud, her body shielding his, her head down, hands gripping a root overhead. Both ropes slithered down, dropping over the top of them along with a landslide of debris and rock. Small rocks hit her shoulders and back. She dropped one hand onto Arnaud's shoulder. The ropes slid off the narrow ledge and dropped into the muddy waters, the weight jerking at both of them. She kept herself braced, trying to stay as small as possible while protecting Arnaud.

  The mini landslide subsided and silence reigned once more. Bijou remained still, a little worried that whoever had cut their lines and thrown them over the edge was still above them, prepared to knock more dirt on them. Or worse, had a gun and was going to shoot them. Arnaud stirred and tilted his head to look up at her a bit quizzically. Trust Arnaud to remain calm.

  She pointed above them and laid a finger over her lips, counting in her head while she listened for movement. A few minutes later a trickle of dirt rained down as if someone stood on the edge looking over. Her mouth went dry, her heart pounding. Was the killer above them? He couldn't get down to them if he was.

  Arnaud wrapped his hand around her ankle and that small gesture of camaraderie steadied her. They were safe. They might be trapped on the small ledge, but whoever was above them couldn't get to them, even if they couldn't get back up. Eventually someone would come along and see the cars and think they might be in trouble.

  Another avalanche of rocks and stones came down. She heard muttering, but couldn't identify whether it was a man or a woman above them. A branch snapped. Silence. The SUV started up. Her heart jerked hard. It was definitely Arnaud's vehicle. Her fingers dug deep into his shoulder. She knew what was coming. Hurriedly she bent down and placed her mouth close against his ear.

  "Stand up and flatten yourself against the bank. He's goin' to push the car over the edge down onto us."

  Ar
naud didn't hesitate. As she stepped back to give him room to stand, he was up instantly with that same unemotional, calm expression. Both pressed themselves tightly against the bank as the motor roared, bursting the silence like a bomb. Arnaud reached out and put his hand over Bijou's as they both made themselves as small and as thin as possible.

  The earth above them shook. Rocks and debris rained down. A tree crashed into the water, the root structure tearing a hole in the bank. The SUV leapt from the cliff above them to drop front end first straight down into the bayou. The back tires missed them by a breath, seeming to skim down their backs, although neither was actually touched.

  Bijou closed her eyes and tried not to shake. Arnaud didn't so much as tremble, his nerves like steel. She hadn't expected that of him. He was so creative, and she associated creativity with emotion--maybe because she was so emotional. Most of her problems over the years in the business she was in had been due to being too emotional. She couldn't handle the fame. She never liked being in the spotlight, and yet she'd been born into the glare of one and had pursued a career that kept her there.

  Footsteps overhead kept them still. Bijou pressed her lips together tightly and waited, sending up a prayer that whoever was above them didn't have a gun. There was still her car, and she'd left the keys in the ignition, just as Arnaud had. Whoever the madman was, he swore again and spit into the water as the SUV tilted and slowly began to sink beneath the murky water. He kicked more dirt down onto them, although clearly he couldn't see them.

  Silence descended. A few minutes later the insects began to buzz, filling the silence with normalcy. Bijou stirred, but Arnaud tightened his fingers around her hand warning her to wait a few more moments. The insects grew louder. He relaxed and allowed himself to push away from the wall, casually dusting off his suit. The gesture made Bijou smile, stealing some of the tension from her. No matter what, Arnaud was aware of his appearance.

  "Do you think he's gone?" she whispered.

  "I don't hear him starting up your car, but stay as close to the bank as you can," Arnaud cautioned.

  She found it took a minute to make her body move away from the protection of the embankment. She looked up. "It's a long climb back up there and it looks unstable."

  "We'll be fine," Arnaud assured. He looked at her for a long time, a puzzled look on his face. "Why did you do that?" Arnaud asked, his voice expressionless.

  Bijou frowned at him. "Do what?"

  "Protect me. When you first knew he was there, you covered my body with yours."

  She shrugged. "You're my friend."

  He shook his head. "That's not the reason, Bijou. Do you remember how we met?"

  "Of course." She flashed a smile in spite of the situation. "It was very dramatic."

  "I had been at your concert. I sat in the front row and just watched you. I watched you more than heard you. When you came out, surrounded by bodyguards, you were still signing autographs. They didn't want you to do it, but there were people outside who hadn't been able to get to you and they mattered to you. You were a few feet away . . ."

  "And you were starin' at me."

  He nodded solemnly. No smile. Just remembering something that was obviously important to him. "I couldn't help myself. You had the most perfect bone structure I'd ever seen. I kept thinking if I could sculpt you--somehow get that perfection in one of my creations. I didn't realize until much later that I was making you uncomfortable. I was so focused on memorizing every detail of your face."

  "You weren't paying any attention at all to traffic and you stepped backward."

  He nodded. "I was trying to see your face in a different light. No one moved but you. Not a single one of your bodyguards. Just you. I remember you rushing toward me, catching at me, and we both went tumbling. I felt the air as the car went by. It was so close. You saved my life, Bijou, and risked your own to do it. Not a single other person moved to help. Just you. You didn't know me then, but you still did it."

  Bijou shrugged, a little embarrassed. She hadn't thought before she moved, seeing the car bearing down on him. "I'm glad I did, Arnaud, whatever the reason. I've got three people in the world I count as friends and you're one of them."

  He stared at her for a long time. "I've got one friend, Bijou, and you're it."

  She blinked. Found herself smiling. "We're a pathetic little lot, aren't we? Our darin' enemy up there probably despises my singin' or your sculptures and he's just expressin' himself."

  "He's throwing a tantrum is what he's doing," Arnaud corrected.

  Again, Bijou was caught by Arnaud's lack of emotion. He wasn't angry, even with his SUV sinking in the bayou.

  "I'm sorry about your car. Did you have anything important in it, aside from your climbing gear?" she asked with regret. She was angry for him. For both of them.

  He shrugged and once more looked up the embankment. "Nothing I can't replace. You're alive. I am. We're good. The real question is, how are we going to climb up this thing without bringing the entire bank down on top of us?"

  Bijou remained silent, studying the overhang above them and the very unstable bank. She didn't have the answer to that very good question.

  Arnaud sighed. "We've got rope." He began to haul the end that had fallen from above into the water back out, looping it as he went.

  "You can't climb using a slimy rope," she protested.

  "I'll try to climb without one and just use if for safety. You can belay from below," he said. "If I can find a stable place to put in a few anchors, or even use a good solid root, I might make it to the top and then I can bring you up."

  "I'm lighter, Arnaud," Bijou said a little reluctantly. She was smaller and wouldn't have the reach he had. Wingspan could be everything when climbing, and Arnaud would have an advantage of height, but with less weight pulling on the rocks and roots, she might have a better chance to make the climb.

  Arnaud paused for a moment and looked at her, cocking his head to one side and then slowly shaking it. "I'm a better climber, Bijou. You're not going up that wall. It's very unstable. I wouldn't be trying it if I thought someone would come along and rescue us. And I don't want to chance that madman coming back for another try at us."

  A sudden thought occurred to her. "Arnaud. What if that was the killer and we interrupted him? Or he wanted to make certain there were no witnesses. If you go up there and he's in the middle of murderin' someone, he'll have to kill you."

  A hint of a smile teased Arnaud's mouth. "You're a funny girl, Bijou. I've never met anyone else like you. I suppose we could spend the night here, fighting off alligators."

  Bijou grinned at him. "I'm from the bayou, my friend. We'll be eatin' one of those gators if they come around." The smile faded. "Let's just wait another hour before you try it."

  He glanced at the sky. "Okay. But only an hour. I'm not going to be on this ledge after dark."

  *

  REMY glanced at his watch and once more called Bijou on his cell phone, swearing under his breath repeatedly. He'd looked for her at the Inn. Talked to Saria, and just about everyone else, and no one had seen her. Her car was gone, but she hadn't packed up her things.

  "Blue," he whispered aloud between his teeth. "Where the hell are you?"

  She had a show to do. She was too much of a professional to miss it. She just wouldn't do that, but she hadn't come to the rehearsal and no band member had heard from her all day, which, according to them, was unlike her.

  He stood still there in the street, staring at the club across from him. He'd harassed the band members, the bartender and three waitresses. Who was left? Saria hadn't seen or talked to her. He'd made Saria call her twice, just in case she wasn't answering him, but Bijou hadn't picked up. Okay, he'd even called Gage and asked him to have the sheriffs patrolling to keep a look out for her car.

  His leopard was as uneasy as he was, close to the surface, raking a bit for freedom--and maybe that wasn't a bad idea. Maybe his leopard could find her when he--with all his resources--couldn't.


  "Remy, get the hell out of the street," Gage called.

  Remy swung around abruptly, hope surging. "Did you locate her?" He crossed the street to his brother in several long strides. More and more the feeling of urgency was on him. He couldn't shake that she was in trouble.

  At first, when he'd gotten to the Inn with the intention of talking to her--explaining about her heritage as best he could without seeing the actual proof of her leopard--he'd been angry that she was gone. He feared she'd run from him, but she wouldn't have left her clothes and jewelry behind. There were too many personal items in the room. She'd had time to pack her most important things if she was leaving permanently and she hadn't done that.

  As he stepped onto the sidewalk beside his brother, Gage shook his head. "Everyone's been out lookin' but no one has spotted her car. Do you want me to put out an official request?"

  Remy took a breath. He could feel something was wrong, but he had another solution to try. "Not yet. I'm goin' back to the Inn and let my leopard try to track her. I'll take a radio and call in if I find her or need backup."

  "It's daylight."

  Swift impatience crossed Remy's face. His fists clenched and he took an automatic step back, away from his brother. His temper was as out of control as his leopard felt. He was terrified she'd left him and he'd bungled everything because he couldn't stop himself last night. He was angry as hell at himself. Even Gage had been shocked that he'd left his mate in a state of emergence. The Han Vol Dan was brutal on a woman, especially when she had no idea of what was happening.

  "I don' give a damn if it's daylight. My leopard can keep to the groves and grasses. He'll track her."

  He'd put work first. It had been so important to him to find Bijou's stalker. He'd deliberately set himself up and then, when he knew her stalker had been drawn out, he'd been so impatient to get there, he'd left her behind without so much as talking to her about what had transpired between them. He knew her. He knew her better than anyone, whether she thought so or not. Maybe better than she knew herself. He had known she'd wake up and be horrified at her behavior. And she'd attribute it to her father's genetics, not her mother's.

  "Don' go off all crazy, Remy," Gage cautioned. "You can't have a leopard runnin' free in daylight hours, not confined to the swamp. Everyone is packin'. You get some good ole boys spottin' a leopard and they'll go huntin' and then we'll really have a problem on our hands."