Leopard 05 - Savage Nature

ground, allowing for the water that poured into the area each season, flooding the land continually. The hall led down to the space below.
    As he approached the room, Drake scented a leopard’s lair. This one was damp, dark and smelled overwhelmingly of depravity. Every leopard could smell corruption to some degree. This lair stank of it, of an evil, immoral degenerate. This lair had been used in more than one life cycle, home to a cruel, cunning monster or monsters.
    As he took another step, Drake caught the coppery scent of blood, a man’s cologne and fear. He moved in silence, his leopard lending him stealth as he rounded the corner and caught sight of Armande crouched over Mahieu. One bloody hand ground into the wound in Mahieu’s belly, while another gripped his throat. Across from the two men, Iris Lafont-Mercier stood with a tear-streaked face, one hand extended pleadingly toward her son.
    Remy shoved passed Drake, gun in his hand and leapt toward Armande. Charisse screamed and leapt after him. Although her leopard hadn’t emerged, there was no doubt that she had one rising close to the surface. She covered the distance in a single leap, trying to shove Remy away from her brother. Simultaneously, Iris was on her daughter, jerking her backward, dragging Charisse with her, a razor-sharp knife against her throat.
    “Mama, no!” Armande begged, trying to roll out from under Remy.
    “Don’t you dare!” Drake roared. His weapon was absolutely steady.
    Charisse squeezed her eyes closed tight, not daring to breathe. Hatred filled the small room. Remy and Armande remained crouched beside Mahieu, working furiously to stem the flow of blood.
    Saria moved out from behind Drake, into the center of the room. Iris’s green-yellow eyes tracked her, filled with loathing. She snarled, exposing long canines. Her gaze followed Saria’s every movement, focused with a predator’s stare. Saria took another step to her right, forcing Iris to turn slightly to keep facing her.
    Drake’s mouth went dry. He had no doubt that Iris was an expert with a knife. Saria was deliberately putting herself in harm’s way. One toss of the knife and Saria was dead. Iris would still have weapons. The others thought she had no leopard, but it was evident to him from the scents in the lair that her leopard was strong. She might not be able to fully shift, but some with weakened bloodlines could partially change and her leopard was filled with hatred, giving her the strength for a partial shift.
    “Did you think you could hide from Drake, Iris?” Saria asked, her voice low. “You looked to that old man Buford for strength. He was an old fat slug, takin’ advantage of any woman he thought was weak. You loved a coward. You admired a man who raped and beat women and you thought that was strength.” She poured disgust into her voice, not just disgust, but amusement, as if she was secretly laughing at Iris.
    Drake knew what Saria was doing—goading Iris into staying completely focused on her. She knew Iris, they lived in a small area, and were in each other’s lives. She knew her vanities, the things that would make her lose her ability to think beyond what Saria taunted her with. She had accessed the situation the same way he had. Mahieu needed immediate medical attention, and Charisse was going to die if they didn’t kill Iris first.
    “You hated your daughter because she was everythin’ you aren’t. She’s beautiful and intelligent. She’s worth millions of dollars and she brought fame to a name you despise. You hated your husband because you couldn’t hold him,” Saria continued. “Everyone knew it. I heard whispers when I was a child. He wasn’t faithful to you, was he? You couldn’t hold a man like that. You couldn’t hold either of them, could you? Buford or Bartheleme.”
    Drake waited for the perfect shot. Another inch, baby. I need her to turn another inch just to be certain. He could make the shot if there was no other choice, but she still might be able to slice through Charisse’s throat and she was vicious enough to take her daughter with her just for spite.
    Iris bared her teeth and a slow hiss emerged. “I was the one who had affairs, not that idiot of a husband. He didn’t think I was clever. Only Charisse. Always his precious Charisse. If Charisse is so beautiful and intelligent, how come every one of her boyfriends slept with me? How come they all did anything I asked of them? Charisse is so damned stupid