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.”
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, ho
lding 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 café 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.
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