Savage Nature - Christine Feehan [68]
“You didn’t have to tell me.” He still wasn’t certain she could pull the trigger against a friend or neighbor, but it was on him to protect her from having to make that coice. “But I appreciate it, Saria. Let’s just hope no one gets stupid here.”
“The tip of Fenton’s Marsh is comin’ up on our left,” she said, slowing the boat just a little. “Around the next bend there’s a small dilapidated dock. It’s mostly rotted, but we can tie up there and go in that way. It’s a little dangerous, but we’re at the furthermost point from where the others can get to us by land. I think you can take a look around and we can get out before they arrive, unless they follow by boat.”
“I’m game,” Drake said. “Let’s get it done. Take me to the dump sites. I’ll need to mark this territory fast though first. Stay in the boat and keep that rifle handy.”
She frowned at him. “Mark the territory?”
“If they come at me as a leopard and they’re in my territory, by law they’ll have to come one at a time.”
“It isn’t safe, Drake, and you know it.”
She knew if three had banded together as men hunting him, it was logical to think they would do the same as leopards. Of course, he’d thought of that, but he was going to be in the right, so if things went badly, Jake and his team would have the law on their side. He didn’t argue, he simply got out of the boat. The water was up to his knees. It was an eerie feeling wading through heavy reeds knowing an alligator could be near.
Saria stood in the boat, rifle in hand, gaze on the water. She was very still, all but her eyes, moving restlessly, quartering the area around him. He saluted her when he made it to drier land. The earth felt spongy beneath his feet and his leopard reached for the change in an effort to protect him. He breathed deeply to keep the change at bay. Pain streaked down his leg as he quickened his pace, reminding him of his wounds from the night before.
He made it into the comparative shelter of the first stand of trees not out in the water, knowing he wasn’t completely out of Saria’s sight, but his leopard was impatient to be allowed his freedom. There was a certain urgency the animal was exhibiting and over the years Drake had learned to rely on the instincts of his leopard. He tossed his clothes aside, uncaring that Saria would see him with all the scars and wounds on his body. The change was already on him, his leopard rising as he reached to embrace the transformation.
Power poured through him. Roped muscles stretched and he was running, the leopard raking trees and dragging leaves into piles to mark them as he raced against time to claim as much territory as possible to warn the other males away. It took longer than he wanted, as the leopard reveled in his freedom and untouched wilderness stretching out before him.
He forced his leopard to become aware their mate was unprotected, the one means he knew would deter the animal from continuing. Once he had him circling back, Drake processed the information the leopard had collected on the marsh itself. A beautiful place, it seemed relatively untouched by human or leopard and that struck him as peculiar. If a leopard was killing here, he would mark his territory. There was no scent trace, no markings, and no tree had been touched until Drake had raked it.
What leopard would do that? This lair was confusing. A leopard had a certain nature throughout the world. Instincts were ingrained. It mattered little what region the leopard was from, whether shifter or animal, most of the instincts were the same. Shifters generallyd for life, unlike their animal brethren, but there were very little differences in the nature. Lairs, regions where shifters lived in harmony, had specific rules that were enforced for the good of everyone. They lived by rigid rules to keep the aggressive and dominant males from harming others. Without those rules, no lair would survive. Was this one on the brink of chaos?
He returned to the tree where he’d left his clothes, only to find