through the kitchen to Saria’s side of the Inn. She had a comfortable three-bedroom home attached to the Inn. On the wall nearest the kitchen, a small hutch was in the entry way. Gage and Remy got to their feet and quickly moved the hutch, opening the entrance to the passageway behind it. Saria scrambled in with Bijou close behind.
Remy caught Bijou’s shirt with his fist and pulled her to him. “Please, this one time, for me, do as Saria says. She knows the swamp like the back of her hand. She can lead you safely out of here. Don’ try to help us. Gage and I will take care of the problem. Dash will have alerted the other leopards and they’ll come runnin’ to protect you and Saria. Just follow Saria’s lead.”
Bijou nodded solemnly, her eyes enormous. She leaned in to brush a kiss over his mouth. There was no crying. No hysterics. No pleading. Just her quiet acceptance—and her trust in him. Faith and trust were priceless gifts. He wasn’t about to let her down.
“Be safe,” she whispered against his mouth.
Remy kissed her again and then moved away from her down the passage, all business. He stripped off his shirt as he went, removed his gun and zipped it into the pack every leopard carried, adding a few extra magazines, giving him plenty of ammunition for a war should he need it. He left his shoes and jeans by the entrance to the swamp.
The passageway was covered mostly by plants and trees and a lot of stonework, but few knew of its existence outside the family, so he was fairly certain no one was waiting. Remy shifted, allowing his large black leopard to take over. His sense of smell was acute and he would find the shooter quickly.
Gage was right behind him, and as they emerged into the damp swamp, he gave Remy room, flanking him and shifting to his left side. Almost at once, the leopard scented the intruder and the rank smell of gunpowder. Snarling, the cat went low, slinking along the ground, using its fluid, flexible spine and its large cushioned paws to move silently. He didn’t disturb a single leaf or branch of a bush. There was not the slightest of warnings that the male leopard was anywhere in the swamp.
Remy glanced sideways and saw that Gage’s cat had also gone to ground. Their quarry was up above them, in the crook of a cypress tree, but there was a second man, presumably spotting for the first. The stench of the Rousseau brothers filled his nostrils. The large cat snarled silently and began his approach, a freeze-frame motion, stalking his prey.
“I can’t see anything,” Juste reported. “We should get out of here.”
“They’re pinned down,” Jean snapped.
“They can get out the front of the house, and no doubt they’ve called in reinforcements. We’ll have helicopters looking for us,” Juste said, the voice of reason.
“I say we go to the house and put a bullet in their heads. I want to kill the whole damn family. Wipe them out. And then I’ll take my time with the women and beat them with my hands. It’s been too long since I’ve had that pleasure,” Jean said, and wiped his mouth as if the very thought made him drool in anticipation.
“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” Juste laughed, but his voice was strained. “Jean, we’ve got to go while we can. We’ll come back and kill them, but not now.”
The cat slipped through the brush until he was within striking distance. Smoldering intelligence shined in the focused stare. Remy’s leopard had marked his target. He would take the one in the tree, and Gage’s leopard, already moving into position, would go after the man already on the ground.
It was impossible to see either leopard. Gage’s spots helped him to blend into the vegetation easily, and Remy’s leopard had sunk so low to the ground and moved with astonishing nearly frozen, almost imperceptible increments that he blended even when he was slightly exposed. The leopards had great patience, waiting motionless, eyes and minds completely focused on their unsuspecting prey.
Inch by inch they crawled forward and then froze, belly to ground, stalking the hunters. Gage was so close to Juste he could have reached out and touched him. He waited for Remy to get into position. Jean was in the tree, lying in the crook of a branch, sniper rifle at the ready, aimed at the Inn. Remy would