Savage Nature
Page 41

 Christine Feehan

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He laughed. “She’ll have no problems, but perhaps we’ll take it a little slower so the next time she pushes her way to the surface, you won’t be so shocked by her.”
“Is there slower? Every time you touch me I feel as if I’m burnin’ up.”
The honesty in her was astonishing. He found her perfect. Saria wasn’t shy or backward, and she would approach sex and passion as she did everything else.
She burst out laughing, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. “You’re lookin’ at me as if I’m somethin’ very special. You have no idea what I’m like.”
He flashed a quick grin. She didn’t know him either. “Isn’t that the fun part? Learning about one another? I already know to look before I step into a shower or bathtub in case you’ve given me a present.”
“Fast learner,” she said and made her way back to the front of the boat.
He couldn’t help but admire the way she moved in her snug-fitting jeans. She was very fluid. Her leopard had been close most of her life, without her awareness maybe, but her coordination was too good, her reflexes too fast. She’d craved the wildness and freedom of the swamp when most women would have rejected the humid, very dangerous environment. She’d thrived, living off the land and learning to avoid the dangers.
Birds were everywhere, tall egrets walking gracefully along the shallower waters. Other smaller birds flitted from branch to branch. Each called, sang or scolded as they searched for food in the cool gray mist. The sun had begun to rise, turning the entire swamp into shades of gold and red muted by the dense fog.
“This area starts the beginning of the Tregre lease,” Saria called to him. “They have nine thousand acres and you can see how wild it is. This is probably the thickest vegetation in the swamp. This section of the swamp was never clear-cut. The growth is original.”
“Tell me about them.”
She sent him a quick look and then turned her attention to navigating. “They’re one of the oldest families. The grandfather, Buford Tregre, was a fierce, cruel man. He drank a lot and beat the crap out of his three sons and wife. It was rumored he abused his daughters-in-law as well, but that was hushed up pretty fast. He died a couple of years ago, but not before he did a lot of damage to that family. Thre is one girl about my age, but she never leaves the property. Two of his sons still live there, both wives left a long time ago. The grandfather wouldn’t allow them to take their children. So the girl and at least two boys live there, but we don’ see them often, more since the old man died. One brother was killed. Again, it’s an unconfirmed rumor that he died running with his wife and son and that the old man killed him.”
Drake was very aware of the depravity a shifter could sink into if he didn’t take firm control of his animal. Temper and lust could easily rule their lives. It sounded as if the leader of the lair had allowed the Tregre clan to live outside the rules of the lair. If the grandfather had been corrupt, certainly his offspring could become killers. Joshua Tregre’s mother had brought the boy back to the rain forest and had never said a word to her people about why she’d returned. He suspected it had been Joshua’s father who had died helping his family escape the old man.
Drake studied the wild, tangled vines and thick brush through the trees. Two men—brothers—whose father beat them and ran their wives off, lived there with two sons and a daughter. They were virtually isolated in that tangled jungle of plants and trees. Unless a complaint was filed, no one was going to venture into that swamp and take a look at the family.
The lair was far larger than he’d first imagined. Cajuns were all about family, and the shifters who had settled centuries earlier in the region had embraced that philosophy and way of life. He was definitely going to need his team and he’d have to call them in quickly. Once word got out that he’d claimed Saria, the Louisiana lair would be up in arms. If they were as undisciplined and out of control as they appeared, there would be more trouble than he’d first expected.
“Get me close.”
She took a slow, careful look around. “We can’t set foot on their land. They could decide to shoot us,” she cautioned, but she maneuvered the boat as close as she could without getting into the tangle of knobby roots.
Drake used high-powered binoculars to study the land. There were several ominous signs warning of no trespassing. Each sign stated clearly violators would be shot. That took care of human visitors. He studied the trees. Rake marks were visible on most of them. He inhaled and smelled the pungent markings of the leopard male, warning others from his territory. There were clumps of leaves built up every so many feet. The male had been busy, determined to ensure no other male came onto his land.
“Whose lease borders the Tregre family’s lease?”
“The Mercier land borders theirs and we have a tiny corner of our lease butting up against theirs. Remy forbade all of my brothers to go near there—and especially me.”
“Did you listen?”
“Everyone listens to Remy. He’s very much like you, soft-spoken, but you can see the steel underneath.” She shrugged, maneuvering the boat around a bend and once again coming in closer to the cypress trees with their knobby roots protruding above the water’s surface.
“You went to the corner.” Drake stated it as a fact. He studied the profile of her face with hooded eyes. Yeah, she had definitely visited that corner where the two properties connected. She was going to lead him in a terrible dance.