Claws (9 page)

Court swung around to face the man he now planned to murder. “I think we should go back to camp and get the boat. That will make it easier to bypass Betaille.”

Tim shrugged. “It would. We could probably pick up the animals trail down a ways.”

“We could and with the vantage point from the inlet we could also keep an eye out for the other creatures you were talking about.” Court pressed the idea home.

“On the boat, we would be able to see in all directions,” Tim agreed.

Court’s lips lifted and his cheeks hurt. It had been so long since he’d smiled so widely. He had Tim hook, line, and sinker. All he had to do was follow through with his plan. It might add a few more days to his schedule but in the end it would be worth it. No one would miss his partner anyway. Maybe one person. The man was a loner living in that shanty house with his mamma. Hell, she already had one foot in the grave. She wouldn’t be any trouble. He could offer he a few bucks to help her along in her time of need. He’d even offer to pay for the services. That would probably take any suspicion off him.

Stalking up behind Tim, Court slapped a heavy hand on Tim’s back. “If we hurry, we can make it back to camp before nightfall, get everything ready, and start fresh tomorrow.”

“You go ahead. I saw some rabbits not too far from here. I’ll catch us some dinner.” Tim took a few steps and disappeared behind a copse of trees.

Court watched the foliage tremble and leaves fall to the ground. When the greenery stopped moving, he turned on his heel and started down the way they had come, wondering briefly if Tim’s mom had insurance on him. If she didn’t, that was her loss. He wasn’t paying for nothing beyond a plaque on a mausoleum wall and a month’s rent to help her get past the hiccup of her child’s death. Too bad the idea hadn’t come to him earlier. He’d have taken a couple of polices out on his soon-to-be ex-partner.

His fingers grazed the gun on his side. With Tim’s share of the profits, he might be able to find another weapon the caliber of The Judge. There was so much he could do with the money he was about to collect. He’d formed a plan, now it was time to act. Court patted the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out the worn pack of cigarettes. A quick tap to the box and a slim stick of paper-covered tobacco popped out of the opening. All this planning could make a man tired. Chuckling at his inside joke he replaced the pack and pulled the lighter from his pants side pocket. With a flick of his thumb fire flared and the quiet sizzle of paper igniting reached his ears. He inhaled deeply, taking the smoke into his lungs.

There was nothing like that first puff from a fresh cig. He exhaled and the smoke rose above his head. Tomorrow he would take Tim to his honey hole and shoot the bastard. Roll the body into the bayou and he was sure some gator would drag it down to the inlet’s bottom to snack on later. Then he would resume tracking the panther. For whatever reason that cat liked the area and from what he could tell it was sticking close to the township. Picking up another trail wouldn’t be hard. Kill and skin that fucker at his camp and get the fur to P.B. Collect the money and drive straight to the police station to report an accident.

He wouldn’t be able to shower for a few days since he need to look like he’d just come out the swamps to make everything appear believable. If the authorities wanted to see where he left the body, he could simply take them to a place he’d already chosen with a lot of animal activity. It wouldn’t be unusual for some animal to drag a body off. This could work. He took another puff and watched the tiny red circle of burning paper move a little closer to his lips. It felt so damn good to smoke. Tim hated it, always pointing out that it was a dead giveaway to the animals that a human was near.

After tomorrow it wouldn’t matter anyway.

The car dropped into a deep rut in the hard-packed dirt road. Sasha gripped the handle above her head and glanced sideways at Sint. The snake shifter spun the wheel taking a tight turn and sending everyone in the car careening into the side. She hesitated and the gears ground against each other creating a shrieking noise. Her fist tightened on the knob and her forearm muscles were stark as she forced the transmission to shift. Behind them a small convoy of fifteen cars and trucks followed. At least that was the number at Sasha’s last count. Every time she turned around she noticed a new vehicle.

Sint downshifted and stomped on the break. Sasha was thrown forward into the dashboard. With a sigh she pushed off the leather panel and yanked the lever to open the passenger door. As soon as she was out, the seat flipped forward and Sint’s daughter Mais exited the car.

The pretty boar shifter straightened and offered a wide smile. “Mom’s driving is getting better.”

Sasha widened her eyes. “Really?”

Mais shook her head. “Oh yeah.”

“My driving is just fine.” Sint scowled. “Can you pick up the hunters’ scent from here?”

Sasha lifted her face and sniffed. She took a few steps and picked up the faint scent of smoke. “I got it. The bastard likes to smoke. But what do you plan to do with the women following us.”

“I invited them. Those men need to understand we are not to be crossed.” Sint arched a brow.

“You said a small party not a fucking housewife posse. I thought three, maybe four at the most—not forty.” Sasha spoke through clenched teeth.

“It wasn’t for you to decide.” Sint walked away toward the growing number of automobiles lining up to park behind the sedan.

Sasha felt a hand on her arm and looked up into Marree’s kind gaze. “You probably don’t want to hear this but give Sint a break. The very idea of losing Darcel cut her to the bone.”

“This is not how we do things in Volkshire.” Sasha grunted.

Marree nodded. “True but you’re not there at the moment, are you? Things tend to be handled a little differently down here. Keep this in mind before you butt heads with Sint. Darcel’s mother was a snake and a boar.” She stopped and took a breath. “What I mean to say—well—let me give you a little background first. With shifters, the strongest animal’s genes usually determine what kind of creature the baby will be. Between Sint and Percel, the stronger DNA appears to be the boar. Now on a rare occasion a female shifter can sometimes give birth to two breeds. Sint bore a pit viper amongst her litter of piglets and here’s the kicker: when that little viper shifted she still retained some boar features. No one knew this could even happen until the children had their first shift and although Sint will deny it, she had a very special bond with Kiele. That was Darcel’s mama and the boar-viper mix. Where you found Sint, you found Kiele right next to her. But one day Kiele announced she was pregnant and that sent everyone for a loop. Sint let her temper get the best of her, she and Kiele had a screaming match so loud I’m surprised you didn’t hear it in those mountains you come from. It was like walking on eggshells around them until Kiele gave birth. Then she disappeared within days of having Darcel. Strangely enough, he was her only offspring and set the rumor mill spinning that his daddy is human. That boy didn’t have his first shift until last summer and he was a boar. Let me tell you that set folks tongues wagging like you wouldn’t believe.” Marree huffed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: Darcel, although he looks like a boar, I believe he bites like a snake. That boy has venom pumping through his veins.”

Sasha did a double take. “No way! I still don’t understand her urge to go traipsing in the marsh. I’ve got this. They are dead men walking.”

Marree sighed. “You folks from Kentucky are about as dim as my people in Texas. Sint hunted for her child, leaving no stone unturned for years. And probably still is for all I know. For a while, some of us were a little worried about her and Percel…I’ve never seen a man more lost without his mate. Poor Etienne chased down every lead only to come up empty-handed every damn time. Kiele was never found. Sint blames herself and I think to compensate she pours everything she has in her on Darcel. If something was to happen to him, I don’t think she would come back from that emotionally. But that’s just my opinion and I’m simply the vet and yes way that child has a vicious bite.”

Sasha scrubbed her face. “I want to make sure I understand. I know Darcel is a piglet.”

“
Yeah
, For the most part. From the time he was born, though, we thought he would be like me—a shifter unable to shift. Hence the
rumors
that his daddy was a human. I never met the man so I
don’t
know what the hell he is. If Darcel’s father is part of Percel’s troupe though, you would have to pull the man’s tusks to get him to admit it. Percel in full shift—well—that Boar Alpha is scary. And I have no doubt a secret mating would set Percel off. Anyway that’s the story and hopefully you get why Sint is so intent on taking care of this.”

“Fine. You just described a soap opera that I am not ready to wrap my mind around. I get her motivations but she’s hampering me, not helping me. If we all go stomping through the swamps, those poachers will hear us coming long before they see us. Maybe if one or two others go with me, hopefully someone with some fighting skills, and then I will gladly drag the damn hunters back to Sint.”

Mais quietly walked up behind Marree and spoke up. “Let me talk to Mama. I can go with you. I have a little combat experience.” She offered a rueful smile.

“If you can talk some sense into your mother, that would be great! Wait—how do you know how to fight?”

Mais tilted her head. “Army Strong, baby.”

Sasha held up a fist. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Mais bumped her hand against Sasha’s and strode toward her mother.

“I’ll talk to some of the other women,” Marree added and strolled off on the other side of the cars.

Sasha watched her leave. She took in her surroundings. No matter where she looked, the various areas looked the same. But there were subtle differences and after spending as much time getting acquainted with this bayou, she could see the changes without batting an eye. She inhaled. The acrid smell of a burning cigarette made her wrinkle her nose. The bastard was close. She’d have to let the good women of Betaille work out with themselves who was going where.

Yanking off her shirt, she tossed it through the window of the car. She toed off her tennis shoes. Quickly unbuttoning her jeans she rolled them and her underwear down her hips and kicked them off her feet. Mais and whoever else could catch up with her. Sasha embraced her beast and bound off into the bushes.

She could hear shouts in the distance; someone was calling her name. Stopping now was not an option. Her panther clawed at her insides, anxious to get a hold of their enemy. She sprinted through the foliage following her nose. Those men would hurt her new clan. She might give her cat the pleasure of doing a little damage but she would save the kill for Sint.

A gift from one Alpha’s mate to another.

Etienne excused himself from the group. When Armand’s brows drew together, Etienne jerked his chin. Armand nodded and rose from his seat.

“Hey where you two off to?” Percel waved his tongs.

“I noticed your ice is getting low. Thought Armand and I could run to the store and pick up a few bags.” Etienne motioned toward the cooler.

Percel grunted. “Better get about fifty or sixty of them. This is going to be one hell of a party. I expect the Pit Viper clutch to show up this time.”

“Then we better take the truck,” Armand added.

“Just curious but who all did Sint invite?” Etienne inquired.

“The town of course and a few clans along the river. I thought I heard her invite that pack of coyotes. She talked about those red foxes that are always scampering off when you speak to them.” Percel rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “Those foxes are a strange group. Oh and she said something about taking Sasha to meet with some panthers she knew of on the other side of New Orleans. I suspect the girls will be gone for a while.”

“Uh-huh. Armand, I’ll meet you at my truck. I just need to run over to the house and pick up my boots and keys.

“Gotcha.” Armand left in the opposite direction.

Etienne sprinted across the open yard and up the stairs. Tribal drums sounded through the air. He stopped, spinning around to see where the noise was coming from. His gaze landed on the patio table and the small white phone bouncing along the glass surface. He watched it skitter to the edge before trotting over to catch it as the device tumbled over the side.

A group picture was on the screen of Sasha in the middle surrounded by men in camo. He read the name attached to the photo, Eivan. It was time to introduce himself to the shifter his mate spoke so highly about. He tapped the handset icon.

Eivan started talking. “Hey Sweets, I got your messages but you weren’t making sense. You never told me you were even interested in a claiming or I would’ve been all over you in those hot pants.” He chuckled.

Etienne made a gurgling sound in his throat. “She’s already mated, you fuck.”

“Who the hell is this?” Evian growled.

“Etienne Mouton, Alpha of the American Alligator set.
Sha
is mine and if I even think you’re making a play for her, I will ensure that the bayou swallows you whole. Your friends will have to have a picture of you to mourn over because they will never find your damn body.”

“I’m less than a few hours’ drive from that fucking town. If you’ve forced Sasha into an unwanted claiming, I will tear off your head and shit down your throat. I could give a piss about some damn alliance,” Evian yelled.

“Come at me, wolf, and I will be the last face you see before you die.” Etienne disconnected the call and stomped into the house.

He snatched the keys from the hook and noticed the crumpled paper. It hadn’t been there the night before. Curious he straightened out the sheet. Sasha’s fluid writing filled the blank space of the old menu.

I’m really not sure how I feel about us but that’s something we’ll have to work out later. Sint paid me a visit and she’s determined to go after the huntsmen. I’m a little worried about what could happen if I don’t go with them. I have the men’s scent. I’ll find and take care of them before the pitchfork-toting female shifter housewives get…”