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.