With a roar, Remy crashed out of the thicket and spanned the slough in a single jump. Chad's expression went blank, and then he staggered back with a hoa.r.s.e cry and fell on his rump.

Remy pinned him down, legs straddled over Chad's rigid body. Chad squeaked and closed his eyes against the sight of teeth mere inches from his throat. Through the haze of his anger, Remy realized that Tris hadn't even looked in their direction.

Tris's sanity was a thousand times more important than any dream of vengeance. Remy backed away, warning Chad with a growl, and Changed.

Remy didn't bother to gauge Chad's reaction; simple shock would keep the man quiet for a few minutes, at least. Turning his back on his enemy, Remy crouched beside Tristan and took him by the shoulders.

"Tris, can you hear me? Look at me, 't.i.t frere."

No flicker of recognition came back into Tristan's eyes. He drew his knees up to his chest and began to rock forward and back like a disconsolate child.

"I remember," he said. "I found Sally. I did it."

"No." He pulled Tris against him. "No, Tris."

"What more proof do you want?" Chad rasped. He lay with his back against a cypress trunk, arms braced at his sides, body racked with tremors. "You-whatever you are-" He laughed. "Is that why you're not in a hospital? You're not even human?"

Remy stared at Chad over Tristan's head. "You'll be lucky to make it to a hospital."

"You'd rather kill me than face the truth, is that it? You just heard your brother admit to his crime. Of course, that probably doesn't mean anything to a monster like you." He shook his head. "It makes perfect sense. I'm surprised your brother used a knife instead of his teeth."

"Liar. You did this to him. You made him believe it."

"Did I? If you were so sure of his innocence, why did you leave me alone all these years?" His laughter took on the edge of hysteria. "Or is it because you have other secrets to hide?"

Remy was frankly amazed that Chad's reason had been so unaffected by what he'd witnessed. He smelled of fear, and yet he hadn't panicked. That stubborn grip on rationality made him all the more dangerous. There was only one way to silence Lacoste, keep him from destroying Tristan and exposing the Arceneaux heritage.

"Are you going to kill me?" Chad demanded. "Yes, that's right. Tear me apart with your bare hands." He leaned back against the tree trunk and plunged his fingers into the damp earth, laughing until tears ran down his face. "You're a natural-born killer, just like your brother."

"You're wrong, Chad."

Dana stood at the opposite bank, breathing hard, her hair a mat of tangles and her clothes dirty and torn. "Remy's not a murderer," she said. "And neither is Tristan."

Remy's first inclination was to curse Dana's mule-headedness and whatever skill or luck had brought her here. But when he met her gaze across the water, his treacherous heart knotted with relief and grat.i.tude.

He let his eyes speak for him.

"Come and join our little party, Dr. St. Cyr," Chad said. "Though I really don't think you're dressed-or is that undressed?-for the occasion."

In a handful of seconds Remy stood over Chad, hands poised to strike. Dana waded through the slough as coolly as a model gliding down a runway.

"You're not sinking to his level, Remy," she said. "I know you too well." She regarded Chad with a look of open loathing. "I presume that he knows what you are... I wish I could have seen his face when he found out. How is Tristan?"

"He doesn't recognize one. He may be in shock."

"And I may have a way of reaching him."

"Dana-"

"Trust me." She gazed down upon Chad like an ancient G.o.ddess preparing to pa.s.s judgment. "I know you tried to kill Remy last night. Did you come straight here afterward, to make sure the body was still hidden?"

"Dana, Dana," Chad said, clucking sadly. "You know about the Arceneaux brothers, and yet you can make such accusations? I a.s.sure you that when I arrived, Tristan had already exhumed the body. What does that suggest to you?"

"You knew exactly where to come. Or was it coincidence that you happened to meet Tris in this very spot, especially considering your tendency to get lost in the swamp?" She sighed with an air of much-tried patience. "I think you knew where Sally was all the time. You loved her, and she rejected you-"

"As you have, ma cherie." He pointed at Remy. "For that."

Dana touched Remy's arm, and an electric charge of inopportune desire shot through him. "You aren't half the man-or beast-Remy is," she said, "but you may be the worst that humanity has to offer."

"Perhaps you didn't hear Tristan's confession." "A forced confession," Remy snarled. "You twisted his mind, fils de putain."

"If I were you, Chad," Dana said, "I'd start telling the truth. I'm not sure I can control Remy if he decides to kill you."

Chapter 13.

Remy almost laughed at her air of aloof nonchalance. It might even have convinced him if he hadn't smelled the anxiety she hid so well. He bared his teeth at Chad and pulled against Dana's restraining hand like an attack dog on a cheap chain.

Chad shrank back against the tree. "You can be a party to my murder, Dana, but everything you care about will die with me."

"That remains to be seen." She turned her back on Chad and knelt before Tristan. "Tristan, look at me."

"He can't help you," Remy said to Dana, gripping her elbow. "He doesn't even hear us. You have to get him out of here. Leave Lacoste to me."

"That's the last thing I can do. Trust me, Remy. Please. What date, day of the week and month did Sally

disappear?"

Remy knew that everything hung upon his decision-to let another person hold Tris's welfare in her hands, or take an irrevocable step that would save Tris's life, and perhaps his sanity, at the expense of his soul. And his own soul, as well.

Remy is not a murderer, Dana had said with all the courage and conviction he had come to admire.She believed in him. Now he had to believe in her.

He let out a harsh breath. "It was a Wednesday. September sixteenth."

Dana nodded and grasped Tristan's shoulders, compelling the younger man's undivided attention.

"Tristan," she said gently, "this is Sally. Sally Daigle. Today is Wednesday, September sixteenth, and it's time for us to find the truth."

She knew her guess was right when Tristan's blank stare began to change. The fear in his eyes receded, along with the horror of memories he could not face. In their place was a calm pleasure, as if he had just discovered a rare flower growing out of the muck.

"Sally," he said. "I'm glad to see you."

"I know." She took his hands and knelt, drawing him down with her. "Do you remember why we came

out to the swamp today?"

"To look for your special bird, the one I've seen in this area. I said I'd guide you to find it."

"That's right. We came out here together. We were alone."

"Yes." He ducked his head shyly. "Do you still have the ring I gave you?"

He must mean the pendant lying among Sally's bones. Dana had noticed it immediately, and the reminder

chilled her to the core. "Yes, Tristan. I still have it. You gave it to me here, in the swamp. But something

happened, didn't it? Something we didn't intend."

His eyes lost their confidence, but he was not yet frightened. "I didn't want to leave you even for a minute," he said. "But I thought I knew where to find your bird in a place you couldn't reach. I wanted to capture it for you, as a gift."

"So you left me alone. But I wasn't afraid."

"No. You were never afraid. But while I was gone, I heard voices. It sounded like fighting. Someone was with you. I came back." His face lost its color. "No. Sally. No."

"It's all right," Dana said. "Who was with Sally-with me-that day? What did you see?"

"You were lying on the ground," he said in a monotone. "You didn't move. He was with you. He had something... something-"

"Who was it, Tris?" Remy broke in, staring at Chad. "Who killed her?"

Tristan shook his head wildly. "He ran away. I tried to help her. Too late." A tear spilled from under his eyelid. "I left her alone. All alone."

"That's how I found him," Remy said, his face rigid with suppressed emotion. "He had Changed, and his memory was affected."

Dana took Tristan's face between her hands. "You're remembering now," she told him. "It's almost over, if you can be brave a little longer. For Sally's sake."

The haze in his eyes cleared, and Dana knew he recognized her for who she was. The vulnerable, childlike lines of his face took on a new definition, a firm maturity-a change just as startling as that of man into wolf.

"For Sally," he whispered. "I forgot so much. But when I met you, it started coming back. I knew where Sally's body was hidden. I didn't know if I put her here, but when I found the body where I expected it to be, I thought it meant I'd... Dieu."

"Go back to that day five years ago, Tris. Try to remember."

"I couldn't think when I saw her lying there. The man with her-"

"Was it Chad?" Remy demanded.

Tristan wouldn't look at him. "I hid until he came back. I saw him tie Sally to the log and push it under the water. He took the ring-the chain I'd given her-"

"d.a.m.n you, Lacoste," Remy said quietly. "I should have killed you."

Tristan gave Chad no chance to reply. "I didn't think," he said. "I Changed and went after him. He was so afraid he dropped the knife-"

Tristan shot to his feet and ran in a tight circle on the bank, like a bloodhound pursuing a scent. He darted to the nearest hollow cypress stump, running his hands over the rough bark. He dashed to a second tree, and a third, searching every nearby stump with frantic purpose.

Out of the corner of her eye Dana saw Chad climbing to his feet. Remy slammed Lacoste against the tree, fell intent in every line of his body.

"Remy," she said. "Don't-"

She forgot her warning as soon as it left her mouth. Tristan had plunged, legs first, into the deep hollow of a cypress stump. From within she could hear the rustling of leaves and the echoing thumps of Tristan's body striking rotted wood. He emerged from the tree with a bundle in his hands and jumped nimbly to the ground.

"I remember," he said. He placed the bundle almost reverently on a patch of dry ground near Dana's feet and knelt beside it.

"Don't touch it!" Remy said, still poised to strike Chad at his slightest motion. "It may be evidence."

"It's all right, Remy." Carefully Tristan began to unwrap the top layers of what appeared to be st.u.r.dy nylon, perhaps the remains of a windbreaker. Underneath lay a relatively dry and much cleaner layer of cloth. And within the cloth...

A knife. A hunting knife. Dark blood caked the handle and the dull blade like the stain of sin.

Remy swore. Chad had gone positively grim. Only Tristan seemed at peace.

"I didn't chase him very far," he said. "After I Changed to human again, I found the knife he dropped when he ran away. But I didn't remember what had happened-only that Sally was dead. I was afraid to touch the knife. I found Sally's jacket in the bushes, so I used that and my shirt to wrap the knife and hid it in the stump, under a pile of old leaves." He looked from Dana to Remy and finally at Chad. "I know who killed her."

"Quel genie," Remy said almost reverently. "You preserved the evidence." He turned on Chad with an evil grin. "It's over, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You're going down."

"You think it'll be that easy? I'll ruin you-and Dana."

Howling like a banshee, Tristan leaped up and flung himself at Chad. The two men tumbled into the slough. Remy shuddered, torn between the desire to protect Tris and the need to be in on the kill. He scrambled down the muddy bank.

"Remy!" Dana's voice seemed very distant, but it pulled him like an invisible bond. "Chad might be armed!"

Without breaking stride, Remy plunged into the battle. Chad's fragile humanity was no match for a loup-garou, even Tris. Already he cringed under Tristan's flailing blows, soaked to the skin and scratched in a dozen places. But Dana was right. If Chad was carrying, he was desperate enough to use lethal force. A bullet to the heart or brain could kill a werewolf as surely as it would a man.