Claws (8 page)

“Put some thought into this, did you?”

“I never make a move without a plan. Those fuckers come into my territory killing animals I consider under Betaille protection. We don’t murder for fun. Out of respect to the Goddess, we only hunt for food and out of necessity. It’s time to show those fellas the error of their ways.” Sint rose and dragged her cup across the clear surface before lifting it to her lips. “We’ll be by that blue car.” She angled her head before checking her watch. “In fifteen minutes.”

“Does the boar know you have this violent streak?” Sasha dropped her fork into the bowl.

Sint glanced over her shoulder. “That’s why he married me. You’ll learn, cat. For every shifter the Goddess made sure there is a perfect mate. May not be what we expect but the one chosen for us is exactly what we need. See you in ten.” She trotted out of sight.

Sasha grunted as she scrubbed her face with her hands. The chair scratched the wood as she pushed it back with her legs. Anxiousness dissipated her appetite. She swiveled her head to crack her neck. It was time to hunt. Picking up the dishes, she hurried into the kitchen, placing the crockery in the sink. When Etienne took it upon himself to move her stuff, he misplaced all her weapons and she didn’t have time to find them. Guess she was going old school and using what came natural—her claws. She snatched a pen from the corner of the counter and flipped over an old restaurant menu to jot down a quick note. Tossing the pen, she stopped and cocked her head. They weren’t a couple living in domestic bliss. She didn’t really owe him an explanation of where she went. Goddess, this claiming was playing games with her head.

She crumpled the paper with her fist. She didn’t have time for this. She dropped the loose ball on the tile countertop, turned, and walked away. Sasha left her phone on the patio table as she hurried from the house.

Etienne turned over and slid his hand across the cool sheets where his mate should be. He cracked open a bleary eye and stared at the stark-white pillow. With a groan, he flipped onto his back. She’d done it again, disappeared to heaven knew where. He sat up and inhaled. Her honeysuckle scent drifted to his nose. She couldn’t have gotten far. He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and rose. A quick bathroom stop, get some clothes on, and he’d go in search of her.

Pushing his arms through the sleeves of his t-shirt, he placed his palm on the screen door and shoved it open. The smell of burning charcoal and broiling meat assaulted his senses. He walked over to the railing and looked down. Percel, Armand and a few other town’s men sat in various lawn chairs around the mammoth black grill. A steady stream of smoke rose from the chimney. The whoops of children playing some game between the houses rang out. It was an idyllic picture but something was missing. He searched the area and realized several women were absent.

He dropped his head back and let the sun warm his face. Sasha had sneaked off, and if he wasn’t wrong, a lot of the ladies had left with her. This situation couldn’t be good. Yet Percel looked calm. He hated puzzles and this whole thing, whatever it was, felt wrong on too many levels to even try to figure out where to start.

“Why do you have a look of terror on your face,
mon
ami
?” Armand’s thickly accented voice drifted up to him.

Etienne met the curious eyes of the French Canadian. “Are y’all oblivious to the fact that most of the women are not here?”

Percel rose and strolled over to the grill, billows of smoke flooding the area, surrounding the cooking contraption and the big boar waved. He stuck his hand under the lid and flames flared out in a flash of orange. He slammed the top down and stuck the tongs through the handle. “That’s why we’re barbecuing.”

“Say what? Why would we be celebrating the fact that half of our clan’s women left?” Etienne rubbed the center of his forehead with his middle finger where the sharp pain was developing.

“Of course not!” Percel shook his head as Armand and a couple other guys laughed. “I’m cooking because Sint thought we should celebrate your mating. She took your kitty to New Orleans for a little shopping and it became a party for them as more women jumped in raring to get out of Betaille.”

“Oh.” Etienne took the stairs a few at a time down to the gravel drive they all shared. A niggle of unease formed between his shoulder blades. Sasha wasn’t much for crowds. The Wolverine Alpha uttered a few words, pulling his attention to the group when they all chuckled heartily.

Armand shook his head. “Goddess save me from a claiming. I don’t think I’m ready for all the turmoil and screaming.” He covered his ears and shuddered. “So much
screaming
. That alone was more than enough to damage me for other women.” He looked at Etienne and pressed his lips together but it didn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curving upward.

“Shut up, Armand.” Etienne stopped at a cooler set on the picnic table in the center of the chairs.

“I’m serious! It sounded like you were murdering her. I was prepared to come to your house. Hell I’d crossed this yard on my way to save the damsel when your deputies politely put me in my place and offered to escort me home.” Armand slide forward in his seat. “Me! An Alpha! You’re lucky I didn’t leave you their intestines to clean up this morning.”

Percel choked back laughter and turned red as he struggled to inhale.

“That’s another thing I really don’t understand about you Americans. Why the hell would you post a few of your men at the exits of your house?” Armand raised his hands in question.

“That was a security measure in case she tried to escape.” Etienne selected a root beer and popped the top.

“What the fuck are you? A caveman? Maybe it’s me but you don’t make the woman a captive to your baser needs. You seduce her, make her feel as if conceding to your demands will give you both pleasure.” Armand stared at Etienne and waggled his brows.

No longer able to contain his mirth, Percel burst out in great guffaws. “Armand, you’ve been dating way to many humans. Try claiming a snake. Our gator here had it easy.” He slapped his friend on the back.

“They weren’t going to stop Sasha, only follow her so I could find her later. I prefer the old ways but not that far back. Of course she would have had a hard time getting away any way after I tied her to the bed.” Etienne took a deep swig of his soda.

“
Mon dieu
! I don’t want to know anymore. We’ll call it plausible deniability.” The plastic squeaked as Armand scooted back in his chair.

“I’m the sheriff. What would you try to deny that I don’t already know…intimately?” Etienne took a seat on the wooden plank attached to the table. He glanced around. More women than he’d originally though were gone. He closed his eyes briefly going over the night before. Something she’d said tickled at the edge of his memory. Opening his eyes he took in each man sitting with him. Why did it suddenly feel like the calm before the storm?

“I’m not listening to you anymore, Etienne. As you Americans like to say—TMI.” Armand snorted. “On a different note, while you were recuperating from your night of debauchery, your guys returned and left this for you. Said they be at the station if you needed them.”

“Great. This information should make Sint happy.”

Percel raised his brows. “What is it?”

“Contrary to what Sint believes, I have been doing my job. This is the record of the license plates matching the trucks we’re looking for based on the description Darcel gave me. I crossed referenced the names with local hunters who had purchased permits in the last couple of years. Then I had the fellas check out the guys who matched the basic descriptions. This is their report.” Etienne tore the top of the manila envelope.

“Ya know, Sint might be right. Since all the investigations into our parrish, in an effort to be more cautious, we’ve tended to follow more of the human’s ways.” Percel sighed. “Do me a favor, don’t give Sint that info yet. She blames herself for what happened to Darcel and since we’re his guardians she’s decided she wants blood. Rules dictated by humans be damned. Do you have any idea how hard it is to calm down a pit viper?”

“Yeah. I deal with Loubel on a regular basis,” Etienne muttered.

Percel ignored him. “If Sint gets a hold of those names, our bank accounts will be empty for trying to cover up the shitstorm she’d create. Let’s enjoy your claiming and I’ll feed the information you have to her slowly.”

Armand coughed before speaking. “Sint will kill you if she finds out.”

“Naw, she’ll just make my life hell for a bit. She loves me.” Percel smiled. “But that’s half the fun of having a mate.”

“I am rethinking my clan’s move. There must be something in the water here because you,
mes amis,
are touched in the head.” Armand picked up the plastic bottle at his feet and took a healthy gulp of the water.

Etienne upturned the envelope and the papers slid into his hand. He scanned the names. Nothing jumped out at him. Shit, maybe he should talk to Loubel see if any of the people listed caught his attention. He should probably ask Marree, too. With her in the next town over living among the humans in Bayou Dupree, a town so small she couldn’t help but notice if anyone acted strangely. She might have saw something and not thought twice about it. Of course he could simply go out on the hunt and kill the motherfuckers. This time though, he would hide the bodies himself.

Some of Armand’s men joined them and the chattering drew his attention away from the report. Etienne lifted his face and stared at the guys. “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying, Percel?”

Percel walked to the smoker, lifted the lid, and the sound of sizzling meat on the grate split the air. He flipped beef ribs and slabs of chicken before dropping the top again. “I said I’m glad Sint
isn’t
here or she’d be all over you for what you found out.”

The men nodded in unison.

Etienne understood the sentiment and cocked his head, watching Darcel lead the other kids across the open area. In midstep they all shifted in a wave of color as brown-and-red spotted piglets leaped over a log. Green, orange-striped, and black snakes slithered under the felled tree while black and white wolverines went around it. Unable to stop their momentum, they all piled on top of each other when they crashed into a house support beam.

He smiled at their antics.

I already have their scent.
Sasha’s words came back to him and his smile faded because he was pretty sure his mate was on the chase with a pack of shifter women who had not gone shopping.

Court absently pushed past a palm frond, keeping his eyes on the ground. He’d found a partial paw print close to the shore of Bayou Animaux and followed the trail along the damp marshland. Some of the deeper indentations where filled with water, washing away any trace of the big cat. The Judge, his hand cannon, rested in a holster strapped to his hip and he’d slung his rifle over his shoulder. He was ready. Now he just had to find that damn panther. For a little more than a day, he and Tim had searched for any sign of the predator.

He owed that monster of a cat. Every time he looked at his reflection he saw the black eye, split lips, and bruises on his side left by his tussle with the fucker. When he shot the beast, he’d have to do it with deadly precision. P.B. already had a buyer lined up and they were willing to pay top dollar if there was minimal damage to the pelt. Court raised his hand and crooked his fingers, a signal to Tim who appeared from the bush beside him.

“The prints have washed out here.” Court cleared his throat and spit into the muddy water.

“Maybe it jumped into the reeds along the shoreline,” Tim offered his theory.

Court raised his head and looked around. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re mighty close to Betaille. Maybe the animal has found a home with the freaks.”

“Your obsession with that place has me concerned,” Tim scoffed.

“I’m joking. Still we should skirt that town. Wherever our prey is going, it’s taking a scenic route.” Court dropped to his haunches and touched the fading indentations.

“Maybe it’s in search of a mate.”

“Possibly, in that case I’ll be happy with the two for one.” Court looked up and flashed his teeth at his partner. “More money for both of us.”

“I know we’re hunting big game but it wouldn’t hurt to knock off a few other animals out here while we’re at it. I was in the bar with some guys a few days ago and one of them told me he thought he saw a wolverine in these parts.” Tim offered a hand to help his friend up.

“So.” Court waved a hand and rose.

“What kind of huntsman are you?” Tim shook his head. “Those beasts are practically extinct in these parts. No one has seen one in years.”

Ignoring the dig, Court added, “Then you better keep your eyes open, Tim. If we can grab one of those, too, we are looking at a fat payday. The kind that means we might not have to work for a few months.”

“I don’t call this work. Hunting is pleasure.” Tim scratched the hair on his chin. “Other than a few months on that shrimp boat, I haven’t held a regular job.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Court muttered before walking ahead.

How had he gotten himself aligned with such an idiot? Granted Tim was an excellent partner when it came to tracking and hunting but maybe it was time for him to try his hand at solo work. Thanks to Tim he now had all the same contacts. P.B. was easy to work with and didn’t care who he got his product from. Accidents happened in the bayou all the time. A man could disappear and never be found. Of course Court knew his partner wouldn’t just roll over and let him claim all the profits from the hunt, but he certainly wouldn’t be able to voice his opinion if he was dead.

Scenarios played out in his head. He had a sweet honey hole where he liked to catch gators. He could lure Tim there and
accidentally
shoot him when he got in the way of an attacking alligator. Yeah, sounded crazy as hell but strange shit happened in the swamps every day. There would be no witnesses and he’d leave the body there for any animal that wanted a meal. With no one to dispute his account of what happened he’d be home-free and able to keep every damn dime.