Ottila whirled around and this time he held his palms out in surrender. He waited until Harry nodded and sauntered away before he addressed Felipe. “I can see I’m going to have to work a little harder to get my female.”

“You can choose a different one.”

“She has so many scents on her, I can’t find one particular one. That tells me she isn’t mated and therefore I have just as much right as any other to try to mate her.”

“We’re her family and we say stay the hell away from her.”

Ottila moved into the brush, angling away from Isabeau. “She’s a little hellcat.”

“I see you didn’t fare well with your courtship.”

“Hellcats are the best kind,” Ottila said. “They last longer and give you strong cubs.” He looked Isabeau in the eye. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

Isabeau met his gaze, letting her cat look at him. “I hope for your sake I have.”

He saluted her and began to walk away, turning at the last moment to send a smirk to Felipe. “You’d better check on your boy in the trees. The little hellcat gave the signal to shoot and he didn’t take the shot. Now what do you suppose that means?” He sounded smug.

Isabeau blinked back tears. The idea of Jeremiah in the hands of Martin Suma made her ill. He would have no mercy.

Felipe merely smiled back. “I think you’d better check on your partner. Shots were fired. The boy doesn’t miss.”

Felipe did a quick examination of Isabeau. “You all right?”

She nodded. “Shaken up, that’s all. He didn’t hurt me.”

“You have bruises on your arms. And blood all over your dress.” He took a step after Ottila, as if he might fight him after all.

“His blood.” Isabeau caught his arm. “Don’t. Let’s just get out of here. I want to make sure Alberto Cortez is all right and I have to tell you what I found. This place is a burial ground. I’m not kidding.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Nothing about this place or these people surprises me.”

“Do you really think Jeremiah is okay?”

“He’s a damn good shot, Isabeau. He’ll be a huge asset with a little experience.”

She noticed he didn’t exactly answer her question. They continued along the path leading back to where she’d left Alberto. As they hurried, following the stream, Harry appeared around a sweeping bend, pushing Alberto’s chair. The older man had the shotgun across his lap and looked prepared to use it.

“Where is that guard?” he demanded. “Are you all right, Isabeau?”

She nodded her head. “I’m fine. Thanks, Harry. I think this place gets to people. Everyone’s acting crazy. Please don’t shoot anyone on my account.”