“Let him,” Drake told his team. They were concealed in the brush, impossible to spot, although the Boudreaux brothers had to have scented them by now.

Mahieu, using careful movements, retrieved his brother’s jeans and threw them.

Remy caught them in one hand and dragged them up over his hips.

“Remy, the boys need medical attention,” Elie Jeanmard pointed out, worry edging his voice. “It may already be too late.”

“Too damn bad,” Remy snapped. “I don’ particularly care if they live.” He looked at Drake. Those piercing blue eyes never wavered. “I want to see my sister out in the open. I need to know she’s all right. Saria, step out where we can see you. Don’ be afraid. If this man is holding you hostage . . .”

Drake kept his hold on Saria. “A little late to play the concerned big brother. Where the hell were you when she was attacked?”

Saria dragged in her breath audibly. The two torn and bloody leopards, sides heaving, tongues lolling, both jerked in reaction, and began trying to drag themselves into the brush. Remy turned to eye them and both ceased all movement. He turned slowly back to regard Drake with a puzzled frown.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“My point. A couple of weeks ago a member of your lair decided to force his leopard on Saria. I don’t see that she had any protection. Not from the lair and not from her family.”

“You don’ pull your punches.” Remy made it a statement.

“You might want to remember that the next time you challenge me to a fight.”

A brief smile touched Remy’s mouth. “You’re also a hard-ass bastard.”

“Bet your life I am,” Drake agreed without remorse. “You didn’t take care of her.” He all b spat the accusation.

Saria straightened her shoulders. “I am standing here,” she said to both of them. “And I’m not a hostage. I’m with him of my own free will.”

“You all right, Saria?” Remy asked. “Come here, cher.”

Before she could comply, Drake stepped directly in front of her, cutting her off from her brothers. “I don’t think so. You’re not going to lay a hand on her.”

Remy’s penetrating eyes bored into him, the irises almost completely gone. His leopard was still close—still furious. “They dared to fire a gun at my sister,” he hissed. “I don’t much give a damn whether either of them is dead or alive. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to get a look at her to make certain she’s unharmed. Saria, get the hell over here before I walk right over Romeo.” The voice was pitched low, a velvet sheath over a steel dagger. “And don’ stand behind your guns. Choose, man or leopard,” he challenged.

His brothers stirred, as if to protest.

Armande and Robert, with great effort, shifted back into human form, groaning, weeping, trying to stop the blood from pooling on the ground around them.

Drake’s eyes glowed amber. He could feel the surge of heat and the wild call of his leopard leaping toward the open challenge.

“We shot to scare her,” Armande clarified in a weak, placating voice. He’d shifted back into human form so his wounds could be seen to. “I was careful not to hit her.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Remy snapped, his voice glaciercold. “I still may kill you.” He meant it too, it was obvious in the sudden pacing he couldn’t control, in spite of the guns trained on him. He glared at Drake. “Send my sister to me now.”

The situation grew even tenser, inching its way to an explosive conflagration as the two male leopards leapt and roared for supremacy, pushing their human counterparts. Drake tried breathing his way through his rage. As a rule, he was the level-headed, calm leopard. His confidence and strength of will controlling his animal was the reason he was the chosen team leader, yet now he was shaking with the need to attack.

“What’s wrong?” Saria whispered. “Do you think my brother would hurt me?”

Did he? It was a good question. What the hell was wrong with him? Remy might have reason to believe Drake had taken Saria against his will, but Drake had no reason to believe the man would harm his sister. So what the hell was his leopard reacting to?

Drake rubbed the bridge of his nose, studying the other man. He felt as if someone had rubbed his fur the wrong way. Every cell was alert and ready for combat. His leopard raged.

“Drake?” Saria’s voice trembled.

The sound of that one note of fear steadied the man. His leopard continued to claw at him to be free, but Drake immediately turned to Saria. Her face was pale, her eyes enormous. She was trying to be brave, but with her brothers so close to losing control and Drake adding to the chaotic situation, she was frightened. To her credit, she’d kept her word and stood with him, her grip on the rifle never faltering, nor had she run to her brothers—but she wanted to reassure them. What sister wouldn’t?

“Do you believe Remy would ever hurt me?” She glanced from Armande and Robert lying in pools of blood to her brother.

“No. He would defend you with his life,” Drake said and forced himself to step aside. This was the telling moment. If her brothers could persuade her that she’d acted in haste, he was lost.

Remy held out his hand to his sister, crooking a finger at her. Drake moved a little closer, into a better position to defend her if it was necessary, but he made no move to stop her from going to her eldest brother.