“Don’t matter,” Drake interrupted. “Either you’re in control at all times or you’re not. Which is it?”
“I’m in control,” Robert admitted hastily. He was trapped and he knew it. He was facing life or death and there was no getting out of it.
“You were drunk and you allowed your leopard loose when you weren’t one hundred percent,” Drake accused. “You’re totally responsible, not Bijou, not Remy and certainly not your leopard. You challenged me and you went after a claimed female. Whether or not she’d mated with her chosen one, she was off limits and should have been under your protection.”
Robert said nothing, holding himself stiff in his chair, clearly terrified as Drake laid out the charges against him.
“Last night at the club, a female leopard of our lair was threatened and every member present with the exception of you leapt to protect her. One of our most sacred laws is to protect our females and our children. I’m waiting for an explanation.” Drake’s voice was lower than ever, and that made him sound all the more lethal.
Robert opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish gasping for air. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I was with my friends—”
“To clarify,” Drake interrupted, “these are the friends that were harassing one of our women.”
“I didn’t know she was one of ours,” Robert lied.
The room shook with the force of Drake’s roar. He leapt forward and struck Robert’s face, openhanded, but his hand was a large claw and the razor-sharp tips ripped Robert’s cheek open, leaving four distinct rake marks with blood welling up.
Robert howled and cowered back in his seat. Bijou hid her face against Remy’s back. He could feel her trembling more than ever. Bijou had steeled herself to remain in the room and learn as much as she could about leopard law. He had to hand it to her, she had courage.
Saria gently put her hand on Bijou’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie as well as to try to tell her to trust in Drake. He glanced at Saria, grateful for the way she read Bijou’s feelings. Drake was scaring the crap out of Robert on purpose. Remy had no doubt that if Robert told any more lies, the retaliation would be swift and painful—that was their law.
Bijou had no brothers. She hadn’t grown up in the environment Saria had. She knew about neglect and debauchery. She knew what alcohol and drugs could do to a man. But she had never experienced real violence, not like leopards were capable of. Remy couldn’t take his eyes off Drake. His leopard was at the ready. If for any reason, Drake needed him, he had to respond within seconds, and that meant he couldn’t be the one to reassure Bijou, no matter how much he wanted to do so.
“I lied. I lied,” Robert admitted, holding the side of his face. Blood seeped through his fingers and trickled down his arms. “I did know she was leopard. It was obvious at one point. I didn’t want Jean or Juste to think I’d turned on them.”
There it was—exactly where Drake had been leading Robert all along. Had Robert not claimed his loyalty was to the lair, Drake would have challenged him in a battle between leopards and Robert surely would have died. As it was, he had to answer any questions Remy or Drake posed, whether he liked it or not. Drake had been careful to keep every subject in the context of lair business. That was what Remy admired most about Drake. His leopard might be enraged, but he always kept his cool and thought clearly through every crisis. That trait was what made him such a great leader.
“I see,” Drake said. Deliberately he allowed the silence to stretch out, until Robert squirmed in his chair. “I’m going to give you one chance to come clean. We know about the break-ins, Robert. I want you to give Remy every detail. Every piece of evidence you can provide, anything at all that will help him put those men behind bars.”
The color drained out of Robert’s face. He opened his mouth but Drake held up his hand to stop him from speaking.
“One chance, Robert. I’ll know if you lie. Remy will know if you lie. You have a death sentence hanging over your head, so whatever the Rousseau brothers have on you, it will never be as bad as what I’ll do to you. Start talking.”
Robert licked his suddenly dry lips. Immediately Saria left the room to get him a drink of water. He swallowed several times. “They’ll kill me. They like to kill. They both call themselves bokor, a kind of priest for voodoo black magic. I don’ know if they really know what they’re doin’, but they hold regular rituals out in the swamp and sacrifice animals. They love to cut the heads off of chickens and spray the blood around. They call on demons. They even have a human skull they use for their rituals.”
He confessed in a rush and gratefully took the glass of water Saria handed to him, drinking it down almost in one gulp. He almost sounded relieved to be telling someone, anyone. “They’re crazy, you know. But smart. Real smart. They have eyes and ears everywhere.” He shivered. “Maybe they really have demons looking out for them. I swear, they’re the devil on earth.”
“They masterminded the gang robbing and beatings of the elderly,” Remy stated.
Robert nodded. “We all had to participate. I joined not knowin’ what I was getting into. It seemed like a party at first, the initiation and all. They promised huge amounts of money and great kicks. Ryan Cooper and Brent Underwood both told me I’d make tons of money. So I went with them.”
“Went where?” Remy prompted.
“They have this place in the swamp where they conduct their rituals.” His entire body shuddered, and he lifted the glass to his mouth, not realizing it was empty. “They took me out there blindfolded the first time. We were all drinkin’ and then Jean and Juste began to undress and got naked except for loincloths. Both drew intricate symbols in the dirt. I laughed, thinkin’ it was all part of the party until I noticed no one else was laughin’ and the others looked scared.”
Robert shook his head and drew his hand over his face as if wiping the memory away. “They cut the throat of a pig and watched it bleed out, dancin’ around and invokin’ some demon, and then they painted us with the blood of the pig.” He looked at Remy with stricken eyes. “Once in, you can’t ever get out.”
“Did Ryan Cooper want out?” Remy asked.
“Coop was always talkin’ like he was goin’ to get out if Jean and Juste didn’t give him a bigger cut, but it was all talk. He didn’t want to chance crossin’ them any more than the rest of us. He didn’t want the money to stop, but he thought he should get more than the rest of us because he did a lot of the beatings. Brent and I kind of hung back most of the time. Juste and Jean liked hurtin’ people and every single time it seemed to get worse. I was afraid they’d kill someone. It was almost as if they each tried to outdo the other.”
“Your leopard could tear both of them apart,” Drake pointed out.
Robert shook his head. “They’re demons. The devil. No one can stop them. I’ve seen them do things no one can do.”
“How is it we don’ catch the scent of anyone but the Rousseau brothers in the break-ins?” Remy asked.
Robert ducked his head, refusing to meet Remy’s eyes.