“Are you advocatin’ one of us become the leader of this lair?” Remy sounded incredulous.

“Not one of you. You,” Drake said. “Because if you don’t, you’re going to have murders all over the place. If you think the attack on Saria was a one-time thing, you’re sadly mistaken. I’ve seen this happen before. Leopards have intense drives. You have to meet those drives or your leopard goes rogue. You all know that.”

“I have a serial killer to catch. Puttin’ this lair back together again is a full-time job.”

Drake nodded. “You’re going to have to send your males out to find females away from this place so you don’t risk the bloodlines becoming contaminated. More than anything, that gets dangerous. There are all kinds of problems here, Remy, and someone has to fix them.”

“Boss,” Joshua interrupted. “We’ve got company out there and they don’t look friendly.”

Chapter 11

11

DRAKE leapt to his feet, the jump taking him across the room to the hallway where Saria had disappeared. He landed in a half crouch. Mouth set in grim lines, face a death mask, he turned already glowing eyes on Remy. “Where is Saria?” It was a clear demand, his voice a growl.

Joshua and Evan immediately moved position, a covert shift to cover their leader while Jerico remained at the windows, his weapon cradled comfortably in his arms.

Mahieu and Gabe blew out the candles, plunging the room into utter darkness, but with leopard vision, they had no problem seeing.

“The darkroom is a small shed behind the house,” Remy said. “Lojos went with her.” There was worry in his voice.

“Remy Boudreaux!” Amos Jeanmard’s voice called from outside. “We have Saria. She is a member of this lair and it has been decided that she is not allowed to leave our lair. We need her here. It is her duty to mate with one of our males. She will be given the chance for her leopard to choose. As lair leader I demand you and your family comply for the good of the lair.”

A roar of fury erupted from Drake. He began ripping his shirt away, claws forming, leaving thin traces of blood along his chest. “You’d better choose where your loyalty lies, Boudreaux,” he spat out. “Your sister or this poor excuse of a lair.”

Jerico yanked open the door as Drake kicked aside shoes and began peeling off his jeans.

“I challenge for leadership,” Drake snarled, “as is the right of every leopard.” He shifted on the run, leaping from the living room straight through the door and landing twenty feet from Amos Jeanmard.

The leader of the Louisiana lair ripped hastily at his clothing, stumbling back from the snarling, hissing interloper. He couldn’t refuse the challenge—no leader could—but it was obvious he hadn’t expected a challenge to happen so quickly.