Savage Nature (36 page)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him.

Drake reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth. “Don’t be. You’re entitled. You’ve had a hell of a time now for weeks, for months. You’ve been through a lot.”

She wanted to protest. She’d met him because of all the terrible things and he had made every minute so worthwhile. Making love to him had been wonderful, but she wasn’t going to bring that up in front of Pauline and Amos. They were waiting for an explanation for her breakdown. The brandy burned like a fireball in her belly. She glanced up at Drake again for direction. She’d blurted out important, confidential information. Maybe too much information. Her brothers knew what was going on, but they couldn’t let the lair know, not before they’d had time to investigate everyone.

Drake nodded slightly, giving her permission to disclose the truth. Her face burned with embarrassment. She’d never been so out of control. The fear of losing Pauline had struck her like a ton of bricks and she’d panicked. She’d never felt that kind of fear before, that terrifying moment when one could lose that important person who meant the world to them.

“I was afraid for you, Miss Pauline,” she whispered. Even her throat was sore after the storm of weeping. “Someone broke into the inn tonight. Into my room.” She blushed, but met Pauline’s gaze steadily. “I was in Drake’s room, but Joshua discovered the intruder and chased him into the swamp.”

Amos frowned. “He’s leopard. He had to have his scent. We can . . .”

Drake shook his head. “That’s the problem. There is no scent.”

“That’s impossible. Everything leaves scent behind,” Amos protested.

“Let Saria tell us,” Pauline advised gently. “There’s much more to this story, isn’t there,
cher
?”

Saria nodded. She started from the beginning, when she’d first seen the lights around Fenton’s Marsh and she’d found the first body. Pauline and Amos remained silent while she grimly told them everything. Se didn’t leave out the attack on her, or the fact that the leopard had left no scent. Drake took up where she left off, revealing that Remy had been investigating a series of murders where bodies of women had been dumped on the edges of the city, along the river and in the bayou.

“And you think this killer was here in the inn?” Pauline asked.

Saria bit her lip as she nodded. “He was in my room, and he destroyed all my things.” For some insane reason her eyes brimmed with tears again.

Pauline patted her knee. “Then it was a good thing you were in Drake’s room, now wasn’t it,
cher
? Do you have any ideas who this killer could be, Amos? You know most of the families well.”

Amos shook his head. “Every one of us has secrets, but I can’t imagine anyone other than old man Tregre being a straight-up killer—and he’s dead.”

“One of his sons? Or his grandsons?” Drake prompted.

Amos sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I doubt it. They don’ have much backbone. I can’t imagine any of them pullin’ off a homicide let alone as many as you claim.”

“And Elie?” It had to be asked. Elie Jeanmard had called Saria’s brothers when Robert Lanoux and Armande Mercier had hunted them in the swamps. It sounded out of character for him to be a serial killer, but one never knew.

Amos opened his mouth to protest and then closed it, in an obvious attempt to give the idea thought. “I don’ think Elie is capable of murder. I really don’ . He was always a gentle boy, loved animals and I suspect someone capable of the kind of thing you’re describin’ would have shown tendencies in childhood towards killin’. Elie didn’t ever hunt gators.”

Saria nodded. “That’s true, Drake. Elie has always been one of the sweetest boys around.”

Drake paced across the room more to hide the sudden flare of jealousy than the need for restless movement. The sudden surge of dark emotion caught him off guard. He had confidence in himself, and more, he had trust in Saria. It made no sense that her innocent statement would make jealousy claw at his gut. He didn’t want to own Saria, he wanted to love her, be her partner, and share his life with her. He wanted the free spirit, that indomitable will that fascinated and intrigued him. He liked that she was open and friendly with everyone—even other men, yet he hadn’t been able to squash that flare of jealousy. It was an ugly feeling and one he didn’t want.

“Drake?”

Her voice was pitched low. Almost intimate. The sound washed through him, as clean and fresh as spring water, driving away his demons. He flicked her a quick look from where he stood in the shadows. He had gone still once again, holding himself apart until he could figure out what was wrong with him.

He glanced at Amos. The man wore a dark scowl, watching Drake’s every move closely with a suspicious expression. Drake glanced away, looking around the small parlor. This was a small room, the furniture more Victorian rather than modern. A small fireplace was the focal point of the room. A table with a lacy cloth covered the older wood. His gaze rested for a minute on the detailed, ornate vase on the floor beside the hearth. The vase was two feet high and sat on clawed feet. A large floral arrangement consisted of the same strange flowers he’d noticed in Fenton’s Marsh as well as ferns and other greenery.

He frowned and crossed the room to the study the arrangement. The flowers smelled wonderful, the petals looking dewy soft. Golden, with dark rosettes, they reminded him of a leopard’s pelt. “Where did you get these flowers?”

There was a long silence. He turned to look at Pauline, silently demanding an answer. Pauline frowned, the question obviously unexpected.

“They’re called Leopard’s Lover,” she said.

“Don’ answer that,” Amos snarled belligerently. “Are you accusing Pauline of somethin’? First my boy and now Pauline.” He half stood, his fists clenched.

Saria jumped to her feet as did Pauline. Pauline rushed to Amos’s side, taking his arm to soothe him.

“He didn’ mean that, Amos. What’s wrong?”

“Drake?” Saria asked.

Drake held up his hand. “It’s happening here in this room—the same thing that happened out in the marsh.” He raised his voice. “Joshua, Jerico, come on in here.”

Amos subsided back into the chair, but he still wore a frown. Pauline sank down beside him, one hand still resting on his arm as if she could stop him from attacking as he so clearly wanted to do.

“What happened in the marsh?” Amos demanded.

Joshua and Jerico came from different sides of the house, entering through different doors. Drake beckoned them to come all the way in.

“Do you feel anything? Do your leopards feel anything?”

Joshua was the first to nod. “He’s agitated. I feel hostile and aggressive and it’s coming from him.”

“Mine too, boss,” Jerico agreed.

“Mine as well,” Drake said. He looked at the older man. “And clearly your leopard is reacting too. But neither of the women feels it. Why is that?”

Drake approached the vase. His leopard clawed and raked at him as he inhaled. “Joshua, smell them up close.”

Joshua handed his gun to Jerico and cautiously crossed to the large vase. Leaning down, he took a deep breath, allowing the fragrant scent of the flower into his lungs. He gasped and stepped back. “My leopard went crazy, Drake. This flower is dangerous to us.”

Pauline and Saria both pulled a long-stemmed flower from the vase and held it to their nose. Drake could see it was actually two flowers, with one winding around the long stalk of the other. The leopard petals were larger and shaped like a champagne flute where the smaller flowers climbing the stark stalk were all dark chocolate, a beautiful, but obviously deadly flower.

“I don’ feel anything at all,” Pauline said. “Well, maybe . . .” She trailed off.

Saria shook her head. “My leopard’s not angry.”

Amos stood up and came to take a whiff of the flowers. He leapt back and continued backtracking until he was as far from the flowers as he could get. “My leopard went crazy, raging at me. He’s always calm, but he wanted to kill.”

“You said they were called
Leopard’s Lover
?” Saria asked, puzzled. “I’ve photographed them in Fenton’s Marsh, growin’ wild there. I’ve only seen them one other place. When I go to meet Evangeline Tregre on the edge of her property, where the Mercier corner is as well, those flowers are everywhere there. How did you know their name? I thought they were a new, undiscovered species.”

“My sister brought me the flowers last night when she came for dinner. I’ve always loved them. The Merciers grow hybrids all the time, looking for certain fragrances,” Pauline explained. She glanced at Drake’s frowning face. “Iris was married to Bartheleme Mercier. He died a few years ago, but it was really Charisse and Armande that built the perfume business up. They’re worldwide now. Iris is very proud of them and when I visit I go to the greenhouse where they develop new hybrids.
Leopard’s Lover
has been in development for years. Charisse was tryin’ to perfect the scent. She actually started the project before she was even in high school and she’s been workin’ on it ever since.”

Drake’s leopard raked and clawed at him, making it difficult to think straight. “We’ve got to get out of this room.”

The other men nodded in relief, pushing through the doors to get away from the subtle fragrance their leopards were reacting to. Pauline led them back into the inn’s largest sitting room across from her wing of the house. The distance provided instant relief and Drake waited until he felt his leopard settle before he tried to put the pieces together.

“Charisse Mercier, your niece, Pauline, started growing hybrid flowers before she was even in high school, so years ago. Am I getting this right?”

Pauline nodded. “I can’t remember the exact year, but she documents everything. These flowers were inspired by shifters, of course. She was very excited about them and she’s worked for years to get not only the fragrance she wants, but the look.”

“They’re beautiful,” Saria said.

“And deadly to our males,” Drake pointed out. “How did they get out of the greenhouse and into the marsh? She can’t just plant flowers that she knows nothing about and not expect an impact on the environment.”

“I don’ know. She keeps all hybrids in the greenhouse and it’s completely enclosed. Charisse is very careful. She actually has a special room where the air blows all contact from your clothes and shoes so nothing gets transferred to the outside swamp.”

“I know I saw the flowers scattered along the property lines on the Mercier land and quite a bit on the Tregre side. The soil is very rich there, almost black, and Fenton’s Marsh has spots very much like that,” Saria said. “The marsh, of course has a high water table, but there are acres of great soil. That’s mostly where I’ve seen the flowers.”

“Anywhere else?” Drake asked.

Saria shook her head. “I’m all over the swamps and bayous. Most everyone has given me permission to take photographs. I don’ go on the Tregre’s property and I always ask Charisse before I go onto Mercier land because I don’ want to disturb their work and I never know when they’re harvestin’ somethin’. I’ve only seen those flowers in two places. I photographed them and had intended to ask Charisse about them. It’s possishe doesn’t know they somehow got out of her greenhouse.”

“They couldn’t have walked out,” Drake said. “Did she know the reaction the smell has on the male leopards?”

Pauline’s frown turned into a scowl. “Of course not. The fragrance is beautiful, almost heavenly. I love it, that’s why I asked my sister for an arrangement for my house. Saria said her leopard doesn’t stir . . .”

Saria made a small sound in the back of her throat, drawing attention to her. Her face flushed with color. “That’s not strictly true, Pauline. My leopard stirs . . .”

“You said she didn’t react,” Drake said.

“I know I said that. She didn’t react with aggression or hostility so I didn’ connect her reaction to the flowers and I was embarrassed to say anything.” Her gaze met his steadily. “She gets amorous.”

Immediately the memory of Saria on her knees in the swamp, her mouth on his cock, flooded his mind. He hadn’t thought about flowers. He hadn’t thought about anything but that fantasy mouth and the pleasure surging through his body. The place could have been overrun with flowers for all he knew.

“It could be that you’re close to the emerging,” Drake said, holding her gaze, letting her know silently he was proud of her courage for telling him in front of the others.

“It isn’t the same,” she said. “At first I thought it was too, but in the parlor, well, let’s just say it was a good thing we were surrounded by company.”

She was painfully honest and once again, Drake felt a surge of pride in her. It couldn’t be easy confessing she wanted to jump him in front of the woman she considered a mother—or the other men for that matter.

Pauline glanced at Amos and then cleared her throat. “I did have that reaction as well. Now that I think about it, when I’m near the flowers I definitely feel more amorous, for want of a better word.”

“This is crazy,” Joshua said. “Flowers? You’re telling me that a flower makes women want sex and men want to fight?”

“The leopards,” Drake said. “And in a way it makes sense. When a woman is close to the Han Vol Dan, every male within miles becomes belligerent and aggressive. The male leopard responds both aggressively and sexually to her scent. If Charisse managed to reproduce the scent of the female leopard during the emerging, the flowers would drive every male shifter crazy and enhance the female’s sex drive.”

“I can’t believe a flower would do all that,” Amos said. “It’s just a flower.”

“It’s a scent,” Drake pointed out. “Leopards are all about scent.”

“I’m going with Mr. Jeanmard on this, Drake,” Joshua said. “It’s a flower.”

“And that’s why we’re not leaders of the lair,” Amos said. “What other explanation is there? It seems ludicrous, but all of us felt our leopard’s reaction. If it happened out in Fenton’s Marsh as well . . .”

Jerico nodded. “We all felt it. There was something out there, something making our leopards belligerent and aggressive.”