Out of the Dark by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online Page B

rumbling agreement from several quarters.
    It was Victor Picard who finally dismounted and stepped forward as spokesman. Dividing his appeal between Lucien and Anne-Marie, he said, “It’s not that we’re after the panther for no reason; you must understand that. The way we see it, the thing’s a danger to everybody for miles around. Nobody can sleep for wondering when he’ll come sneaking through a door or window left open for air—or what he’ll do when he gets inside. We can’t risk him killing somebody, or maybe carrying off a babe next time he gets hungry.”
    “He wouldn’t do that,” Anne-Marie protested, color receding from her face at the suggestion.
    “Can you guarantee it?” Picard demanded in strained reason. “We can’t spend night and day looking over our shoulders, listening to him screaming back in the woods. He’s got to go, chère .”
    “He would never hurt anybody, really, he wouldn’t.” She stepped forward to put out her hand as she pleaded for the great cat.
    “How do you know?” Victor shot back. “He’s a mangy panther, a wild animal. You can’t tell what he might do. And you won’t always be around to stop him.”
    “He isn’t wild! I raised him from a kit and he loves me. There’s no reason to be afraid.”
    The men exchanged quick, significant looks. It was difficult to tell whether the reaction uppermost in their minds was disbelief or wariness for a young woman who was crazy enough to claim the affection of a wild beast.
    Then off to one side, a man made the sign of horns, a gesture to ward off evil. Two others spoke in sibilant whispers.
    “Witch—”
    “She-devil—”
    Lucien’s chest felt hot and tight as he realized what Anne-Marie had done. A lady did not befriend a panther. A lady did not defy men-folk. A lady did not claim to be fearless in face of a danger that caused men to tremble. A lady did not, above all, mark herself as possessing strange powers over savage beasts.
    Anne-Marie was already considered something of an oddity. By showing herself irretrievably as a creature beyond the ken of her neighbors, she had just made herself an outcast. If there had ever been a time when Anne-Marie might have been able to contract a respectable marriage, it was ended.
    Lucien, recognizing what was happening, saw his way with sudden bright clarity. From this moment on, he realized with quiet exultation, there could be no turning back. She was in his hands.
    “Enough,” he said, infusing his voice with the lash of authority as he stared down the other men. “You cannot take the panther here and now without killing him in front of the lady. And I feel sure that’s a bloody deed none among you wants to undertake.”
    There was still some muttering and a few curses, but the men noted the trenchant challenge in his face, remembered his reputation with the sword in his hand. They saw, too, that he had given them a way to save face by pretending to bow to female sensibility. It took a few more minutes of aimlessly milling, of talking under their breaths and gesticulating with low threats about how they meant to get the beast come hell or high water. In the end, however, they mounted up again and called their dogs.
    From the saddle, Victor Picard said, “We’ll let it go, Roquelaire , but this isn’t the end of it. You can bet on that.”
    “I didn’t expect it to be,” Lucien said, and he meant it.
    Reining around, the disgruntled men kicked their mounts into movement. They vanished back into the woods.
    The crashing and muffled thuds of the men’s departure faded away. With the slow precision of stiff muscles, Lucien turned to face Anne-Marie.
    “You saved Satan,” she said quietly. Her face was pale and her gaze fastened on him in clear and steady appraisal.
    He made no reply as he moved closer, stepping around the big cat. He felt odd, almost disembodied, as reaction seeped through him like a slow-moving poison. There was a prickling sensation along his