She pushed all thoughts of Charisse out of her head. She had to just stay focused on the safety of the men she was guiding. She should have told Drake to shove it. In the swamp, she was the leader--not him. She bit her lip and led the way. They were eerily silent, but she refused to glance over her shoulder to make sure they were keeping up. She set a brutal pace, skirting around poisonous brush, making certain to place each foot carefully on ground she knew was sound. As it was, the rain had soaked in, making the surface far spongier than normal.
Drake touched her shoulder and she stopped moving automatically. He moved in front of her, and held up his hand, his fingers spread wide. His men appeared to melt into the darkness. One moment she could see them and then they seemed to disappear. There was no sound, no rustling of leaves, no snapping of twigs, they simply were gone.
She hadn't heard the sound of a boat nor had she seen lights, but her heart began to pound, and deep inside, she felt her leopard unsheathe her claws. Saria tasted fear in her mouth. The fact that she knew her leopard had actually gone on alert scared her more than the men disappearing around her. She was so out of her depth with these people. She needed time to assimilate the fact that she was leopard too. After all those years of envying her brothers and feeling so alone, she had the very thing she'd wanted, yet she was afraid of it. Now that she was a part of it all, she wanted to curl up somewhere quiet and just be still.
Drake touched her shoulder and she crouched, wondering how she knew what he wanted. He pointed to his left and something moved in the brush, but she could only hear the rain. There was a long moment of silence. She could count her heartbeats as the tension stretched out. The relentless rain slackened in intensity, slowing to a slow drizzle, a heavier mist that blanketed the swamp and hung in thick drapes over the water.
Drake crouched beside her. "We have company. North of us, two boats in the water, side by side. They have the lights covered. Can you get us to a trail taking us toward Mercier property without putting us in the open?" He whispered the words against her ear, his lips tight against her skin and a slow burn--a very inappropriate reaction--started in her very core. Her leopard rose to meet his. She closed her eyes, shocked that her leopard would add such complications to an already impossible night.
Drake's palm curved around her nape. "Don't let her escape yet. Keep in control."
"Are you kiddin'," she hissed back, furious at him, knowing it was her leopard, but not really caring. "How am I supposed to be in control when I don't even know what to expect?"
"You're strong, Saria. If you let her too close to the surface and give her free rein, if there are leopards in either of those boats, the moment the wind shifts, they'll know you're out in the swamp tonight."
She hissed at him, suppressing an unfamiliar urge to swipe at him with her fingernails. Her cat was out in force and in a bad mood. The rain, the proximity of too many males and the tightness of her skin all made her feel edgy and trapped.
"Baby, listen to me," he said. "I know it's hard. She comes close and retreats . . ."
"Tell me somethin' I don't know," she snapped. "I'm in the damned rain,soaked through, surrounded by madmen with a leopard inside of me who goes from being a hussy to a psychotic bitch in seconds. I've got so many hormones runnin' through my system I don't know what I'm doin'."
"Breathe her away. Shove her back and be forceful. She has to realize you're intelligent and you refuse to allow her runaway emotions to control you."
Saria took a slow look around, knowing her eyes were changing as her vision banded in waves of heat. She knew where every single member of Drake's team was with her leopard's heightened awareness. Her leopard suddenly switched from being angry to preening. "Funny how she suddenly likes all these men around."
The moment she said it she knew she had made a terrible mistake. A low warning snarl rumbled in Drake's chest and he turned glowing golden eyes on her. Saria shivered. His leopard was closer than hers, and he was enraged at the scent of the males surrounding her. She bit back the very bitchy urge to ask where all his control was, and forced air through her lungs. One of them had to be sane in this tense situation and clearly, when it came to her hussy of a leopard, it wasn't going to be Drake or his leopard.
She felt her leopard respond to the aggression in his, a slinky stretch and languorous yawn. Crouched down as she was, she had to fight to keep from arching her back and rubbing along Drake's leg. She refused to give in to her leopard's urge to look enticingly at the men behind her. She could already feel the heightened tension.
Saria took another deep breath and turned her displeasure on her leopard. The little hussy had a tendency to choose the worst possible moment to show herself and she loved the attention of the men surrounding her. Saria, however, did not. And finding Drake practically on top of her didn't help her foul mood.
"Are you kidding me, Drake? Don't you dare add to the complications right now. I cannot put up with a man actin' like a crazed jealous lover when I don' even know how to handle being leopard. I'm responsible for all these lives and you think I'm wantin' to seduce a bunch of strangers? Get ahold of yourself. I certainly don' want any other man and right now, you aren't lookin' all that good to me either."
She glared at Drake while she mentally kicked her leopard. Go back to sleep you useless sex kitten. If you want to play, wait until we're in a bedroom.
Drake dropped his hand on the top of her head, rubbing the silky strands of hair between his fingers. "I'm sorry, honey. Leopards are very territorial when it comes to their females, especially when she's in . . ."
"Don't say it. If you say I'm in heat one more time I swear I'm goin' to stab you right through the heart," Saria bit out between clenched teeth. It was bad enough to know she was putting out enough scent to call in every male for miles let alone have him say it aloud. She sent him a look that should have withered him on the spot.
Her leopard was turning grumpy with her, wanting the spotlight and annoyed that Saria wasn't giving in to her demands. Saria had a will of iron when she was aggravated. She'd never let a whipping, or the women of the church or anything else move her when she'd had enough, and she turned that iron will on her leopard. Back off. You aren't helpin' me right now. Go back to sleep and just stay there until I get us out of this mess.
Her leopard subsided sulkily. Saria sent Drake another quick glare from under her lashes. "It would be nice to deal with you so easily."
"I said I was sorry."
"Jealousy is not an attractive trait," she said in a low tone. "And we need to get movin' . I don't think that boat is goin' to wait for your silly leopard to behave."
"If we have to shift into leopards to make this run . . ."
She stopped him with a look. "I'm goin' to be running on two legs, they can too." She was not going to give her sex kitten of a leopard any excuse for coming out and rubbing herself against a bunch of naked men.
"I got it," he said.
Straight behind her, she heard a quiet snicker and saw Drake's golden eyes flick in that direction. His jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything and no one was stupid enough to make any more disparaging sounds.
"Get us moving, Saria."
She ignored the hard edge to his voice, knowing his leopard was riding him pretty hard with the other males in such close proximity to her. It wasn't Drake, she repeated to herself, he wasn't a man who would ever mistrust her.
He put a hand on her shoulder, moving up close behind her, placing his feet exactly where hers had been. Behind them, the men fell into a single file line, doing the same.
"I know it's hard not to look for an excuse to run from me, especially when everything is so new and volatile. I really appreciate that you choose to hang in there with me."
She sent him a small smile over her shoulder, glad that he knew it was a struggle. "We're goin' to have to pick up the pace. Let them know they can't set a foot off this path. It gets very narrow up ahead and we're goin' to be crossin' a couple of gator slides. A
couple of miles into the interior we'll be hittin' very thin ground. There're only a few spots thick enough to hold weight, so stay close and know where to put your feet. Forget the boat. I know exactly the locations we can spot it."
She forced confidence into her voice when she didn't feel it at all. She'd explored the swamps, it was true, and often at night. But she was relatively light in comparison to them and she'd been vigilantly watching for signs of alligators. Contrary to popular belief, alligators could not run fast on land, but they could lunge with lightning speed and in short bursts could move quickly enough.
She set a fast pace to begin with. The land along this first stretch was stable and if anyone misstepped, they would be safe. A mile or so ahead, the land thinned to a narrow strip. Either side of it one could easily fall through. Nevertheless, she refused to go any faster than she deemed was safe. She could feel their urgency, but she had no doubt she could beat the boat around the larger land masses by moving through the interior. Once away from the water's edge, cypress groves and reeds, they would likely be away from the threat of alligators as well.
It was strange running in formation. She heard the pounding of her own heart as well as her breathing, and the only footsteps she heard were hers. The men picked up her exact rhythm, running in single file, feet hitting the ground in exact unison with each other and with her. After a while it made her want to vary her rhythm just to see if they would somehow anticipate her change-up.
Chiding herself for thinking childish thoughts, she scanned the ground ahead of her, using the strange night vision her leopard provided. She knew this area of the swamp inside and out, she'd practically spent her childhood here, searching for nests to photograph and often hiding from any adult who was silly enough to try to find her. She'd perfected her tracking skills all through this particular strip of land. She knew every hazard and where the gators liked to hang out. She knew the sounds and the warnings.
She picked up speed and swept through the thickest grove of trees, knowing the gators didn't inhabit this particular area. It was too far from the water and their mud slides. Tangles of vines and roots were their biggest hazard, so they could move quite a bit faster. Once outside the heavy growth, she should be able to catch a glimpse of the boat lights and determine which direction they were going. She hoped the boat would veer away from Mercier land, but she had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to get that lucky.
As the thick grove of trees gave way to brush, she slowed her pace just a little, signaling they were moving into a hazardous area. She kept her footsteps very precise as she jogged over the ground, wincing with every footfall. Water pooled, turning the surface to a mixture of mud and floating debris. The rain wasn't helping, raising the water table as inevitably as the tides did. Praying the men were as precise in their steps, she led them through a very narrow strip of hazards where one wrong step would take them under the thin crust to the water below.
The men followed, slowly as she did, stepping one after another in the exact spot as the man in front of him. They watched the ground, trusting her to guide them through safely. In a way, it was somewhat exhilarating, even as the weight of the responsibility for their lives was crushing. This section of the swamp was honeycombed with thin spots and holes covered with tangles of vines where an unwary person could easily fall through. She'd mapped the way in her mind, but the chance of the ground eroding was always there.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they came up on the edge of the cypress grove. She held up her hand and everyone stopped instantly. She waited a heartbeat, her eyes straining to see the small open space through the trees where in the distance a boat would sweep around the bend and could be seen for no more than a moment. She had timed the pace in her head, slowing down when needed to ensure the lives of the men in her care, but setting a fast enough tempo that they would be able to catch a glimpse of the boat and the direction it went.
One second later, a blurring light blinked in the waterway, holding to her left. She knew, with a sinking heart, that the boat was traveling into the canal that led to the Tregre-Mercier swamps.
"We're heading into the reeds," she whispered to Drake, knowing with their hearing the others would be able to heed her warning. "Stay close, but keep an eye out for gators. They'll be in the water. We're goin' to move fast through here."
Her heart was pounding. She had a very healthy respect for alligators. She gripped her rifle and took the first step into the reed-choked water. The water went up to her thigh. She took a deep breath and kept moving steadily through the murky water, not fast, not slow, feeling her way with each step. Her night vision allowed her to see the dark loglike shapes lying in wait in the reeds and n the barrel roots from the cypress trees sticking out of the water.
The tension stretched, and the men remained absolutely silent as they moved in unison through the treacherous water. She tasted fear in her mouth, but she refused to show it. These men were her responsibility and she wasn't about to put them in danger by having a panic attack. She had failed to mention to Drake that stepping at night into murky water known to be filled with hungry, aggressive alligators terrified her. She made a note to herself to have that conversation with him at a later date.
Saria felt a small branch roll under her foot and shifted her weight to catch herself from slipping. Drake steadied her, his fingers curling hard around her upper arm. She licked at her suddenly dry lips. The branch felt, for a moment, like a small alligator and set her pulse going through the roof. They were close to the shore again, which didn't make her any happier. Alligators liked to hang out under the bank in the reeds.
Swallowing her fear, she forced herself forward. Drake kept his hand on her arm, probably because he could feel her trembling. The moment she was on solid ground, she felt relief flooding her body. Her knees went weak, legs like rubber, but she took a couple of deep breaths and began to pick up the pace. They had an easy run and could make up speed once they got away from the bank.
She set as fast a pace as she dared, running instead of jogging. They had to hit the other side of the swamp nearest the southern bank before the boat got around the land mass. The boat had to travel miles around the land while she and Drake's team could cut through the swamp. They made up a lot of time. The vegetation was thick, but mostly tangled vines, trees and brush. The ground was solid until she reached the outer banks. She was shorter than the men and had to duck a few times, but they had to constantly avoid low-hanging branches, veils of moss and vines to keep from getting clothes-lined. Not one of them broke stride. She was beginning to realize these were men who saw a lot of action in many different environments and were afraid of very little.
She ran fast in the rain, her footsteps kicking up mud and water as she raced along a narrow deer trail. She'd spent a lot of time in this part of the swamp capturing nests on film. She hadn't worried about predators here other than an occasional bobcat and they always avoided her. This was the one section where they could make up time before they hit the second reed-choked water hazard where she knew for certain a large bull alligator made his home. He'd been known to kill and eat his own kind. He took bait from hooks and actually bent the largest, strongest hooks most of the hunters used trying to snag him.
They had to make it through the water onto the shore of the next strip of land and race to the tip of land on the other side of the finger of land to catch another glimpse of the boat, to know for certain where it was heading.
She moistened her dry mouth and took the plunge into the reed-choked waters. There were cypress trees kneedeep in the murky water, an entire grove of them, with many rotted trunks pitting the bottom along with the everspreading barrel roots. The alligators had many places to hide. She was tired, her body feeling leaden, with so many miles of running, being so vigilant throughout.
To her horror, halfway to the next bank, she saw a water moccasin bearing down on her fast. She had her rifle cradled in her arms, determined to keep her weapon dry and there was nowhere
to run. The creature's head was inches from her hip n Drake struck with blurring speed. He snagged the snake just behind its head, yanked it from the water and threw it a distance away. She heard it hit a tree off to their right.
Saria opened her mouth to thank him, but nothing came out, so she just kept moving. If the large gator that occupied this territory was near, he didn't show himself and they made it to the bank and began the next run.
It seemed to take forever to cross the swamp. The smallest distance between the two canals was pitted with holes and under at least an inch of water, making it difficult to find the tiny strip of stable land. Several times they had to leap on small rocks to prevent themselves from sinking into the mire.
As they reached the bank, the boat came into view, slowing as it approached the dock to the Mercier property. A man stood waiting on the wooden deck overlooking the river. The boat definitely was Mercier, but the two men in it were the Tregre brothers.
Saria let out her breath slowly and would have sat if there was a place to do so, but they still had a long way to go.
16
DRAKE wrapped his arm around Saria as
morning light crept through the soft rain, tucking her beneath his shoulder. She was exhausted. They all were. After running through the swamp most of the night and making their way to the Mercier property, they had discovered that all the flowers had been cut back in preparation for winter. If there was evidence, it had been destroyed. The greenhouse was under heavy security, which they bypassed without a problem, but there were no poppies inside, nor evidence of opium. They did find the room where Leopard's Lover grew, and as Pauline had stated, numerous precautions had been taken to keep the flower's seeds from leaving the greenhouse.
The laboratory was situated on the property behind the residence almost on the very foundations of the original plantation, and a long way from the acres where gardens were located. The entire area around the newer estate was landscaped, the grounds well manicured and maintained. The Mercier house was clearly a mansion, two stories, at least six to seven thousand square feet with an upper and lower wraparound deck. As homes went, it was impressive.