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  Praise for Christine Feehan’s Leopard Novels

  “Heart-stopping action. Crazy sexy-time scenes. Tender emotions . . . [A] little bit of something for everyone who enjoys a solid paranormal romance.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  “With a Feehan novel you know you will get well-developed characters and an engaging plot, so when you add a dose of sizzling sexuality, you have an unbeatable mix.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Heady, passionate, seductive . . . Ms. Feehan does a fantastic job of building up to the climax for a smashing finale that leaves you breathless and satisfied.”

  —Smexy Books

  “Readers . . . will be seduced by this erotic adventure.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Another wild ride . . . enter the lair of the shapeshifters.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “A passionate, jam-packed adventure.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “The passion runs high and the sex is hot!”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “Sizzling and exciting . . . surprises erupt at every turn.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A phenomenal story . . . Christine Feehan knows how to weave a tale of action, suspense and paranormal passion that has earned her so many fans and keeps bringing new ones.”

  —Romance Junkies

  Titles by Christine Feehan

  COVERT GAME

  POWER GAME

  SPIDER GAME

  VIPER GAME

  SAMURAI GAME

  RUTHLESS GAME

  STREET GAME

  MURDER GAME

  PREDATORY GAME

  DEADLY GAME

  CONSPIRACY GAME

  NIGHT GAME

  MIND GAME

  SHADOW GAME

  HIDDEN CURRENTS

  TURBULENT SEA

  SAFE HARBOR

  DANGEROUS TIDES

  OCEANS OF FIRE

  LEOPARD’S RUN

  LEOPARD’S BLOOD

  LEOPARD’S FURY

  WILD CAT

  CAT’S LAIR

  LEOPARD’S PREY

  SAVAGE NATURE

  WILD FIRE

  BURNING WILD

  WILD RAIN

  BOUND TOGETHER

  FIRE BOUND

  EARTH BOUND

  AIR BOUND

  SPIRIT BOUND

  WATER BOUND

  SHADOW KEEPER

  SHADOW REAPER

  SHADOW RIDER

  JUDGMENT ROAD

  DARK LEGACY

  DARK SENTINEL

  DARK CAROUSEL

  DARK PROMISES

  DARK GHOST

  DARK BLOOD

  DARK WOLF

  DARK LYCAN

  DARK STORM

  DARK PREDATOR

  DARK PERIL

  DARK SLAYER

  DARK CURSE

  DARK HUNGER

  DARK POSSESSION

  DARK CELEBRATION

  DARK DEMON

  DARK SECRET

  DARK DESTINY

  DARK MELODY

  DARK SYMPHONY

  DARK GUARDIAN

  DARK LEGEND

  DARK FIRE

  DARK CHALLENGE

  DARK MAGIC

  DARK GOLD

  DARK DESIRE

  DARK PRINCE

  Anthologies

  EDGE OF DARKNESS

  (with Maggie Shayne and Lori Herter)

  DARKEST AT DAWN

  (includes DARK HUNGER and DARK SECRET )

  SEA STORM

  (includes MAGIC IN THE WIND and OCEANS OF FIRE )

  FEVER

  (includes THE AWAKENING and WILD RAIN )

  FANTASY

  (with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)

  LOVER BEWARE

  (with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)

  HOT BLOODED

  (with Maggie Shayne, Emma Holly, and Angela Knight)

  Specials

  DARK CRIME

  DARK HUNGER

  MAGIC IN THE WIND

  THE AWAKENING

  A JOVE BOOK

  Published by Berkley

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  Copyright © 2018 by Christine Feehan

  Excerpt from Vengeance Road copyright © 2018 by Christine Feehan

  Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

  A JOVE BOOK and BERKLEY are registered trademarks and the B colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Ebook ISBN: 9780451490179

  First Edition: November 2018

  Cover art © Danny O’Leary

  Cover design by Judith Lagerman

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  For my friend, Susan Winding …

  Contents

  Praise for Christine Feehan’s Leopard Novels

  Titles by Christine Feehan

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  For My Readers

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Excerpt from Vengeance Road

  About the Author

  For My Readers

  Be sure to go to christinefeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my PRIVATE book announcement list and download the FREE Ebook of Dark Desserts . Join my community and get firsthand news, enter the book discussions, ask your questions and chat with me. Please feel free to e-mail me at [email protected]. I would love to hear from you.

  Acknowledgments

  I ran into a lot of problems writing this book. Sometimes that’s just what happens. Many thanks to Brian Feehan for challenging me to write faster and always try for better. Thank you to Sheila English for going through the book looking for those loose ends. To Domini Walker, working weekends and when you were sick to get it done, you have no idea how much I appreciate you. To Denise Feehan for covering for everyone while we made the mad dash for the deadline—thank you very much! Special thank you to Cheryl Wilson, a good friend who always comes through at crunch time! sane!

  1

  TIMUR Amurov cursed under his breath, using his native language, something his brother—and boss—strictly forbade. Striding from the town car with its tinted windows and black paint, he moved easily through those walking on the sidewalk. His trench coat swirled around his ankles, the inner lining filled with many loops to hide the weapons he carried.

  People moved out of his way. It was the set of his wide shoulders, the scars on his face, his expressionless mask, the threat in his cold, dead eyes. He saw their reactions, and he knew exact
ly what they would do—step aside for him—so he never broke or deviated from his pace. He looked dangerous because hewas dangerous. He looked like a man who would kill—and he was.

  He didn’t pretend to be anything other than who he was. A shifter. A bodyguard. A weapon sent out when it was deemed necessary. If he showed up at someone’s door, they weren’t going to see another sunrise. He looked the part because that was exactly who he was. A stone-cold killer, a legacy given to him by his father. And grandfather. And uncles. There was no hiding the truth, not even from himself, and he didn’t care to. Life had handed him a shit deck of cards, but he was playing his hand until he couldn’t take it anymore and then he would go out his way.

  He didn’t let down his guard for many people. First and foremost was Fyodor, his older brother. Fyodor had risked everything to save Timur and his cousin Gorya, a man brought up with them in their sick, twisted environment. Timur and Gorya had taken the position of bodyguards to Fyodor, but his brother just refused to stay out of harm’s way. Fyodor was the head of a large territory and might as well have gone around with a target painted on his back. No matter what security measures Timur and his security team took, Fyodor seemed to just ignore them.

  In his defense, Fyodor had been a bodyguard, a soldier, long before he’d ascended to the throne, but Timur considered that he should know how difficult it was to guard and keep safe a man who ignored every security protocol.

  He loved his brother. Not that they talked of such things. That had been forbidden growing up. They’d been taught never to feel affection for anyone—especially a woman. Fyodor’s wife, Evangeline, owned and operated a bakery in San Antonio, and that meant Fyodor worked out of it sometimes. Most times. He had an office in the back. And despite their upbringing, Fyodor made no bones about loving his wife. No bones about showing it, either. The thing was, Timur loved her too. He loved her as a sister, but couldn’t express it. A childhood of savage beatings had seen to that.

  Timur yanked open the glass door to the bakery. He’d had the door replaced and bulletproof glass placed in it, along with the banks of windows that made up the shop’s storefront. Evangeline looked up quickly and sent him a smile. His heart contracted. She was sweet. Beautiful. Perfect for his brother. More, she kept his brother’s leopard from trying to break loose to hunt and kill. His own leopard raked and clawed, angry, violent, moody as hell.

  “Everythin’ all right, Timur?” Evangeline’s little Louisiana accent always made him feel warm, like he’d come home. Her smile began to fade when he didn’t return it.

  Hell no, nothing was all right. His fucked-up brother was so smitten with this woman that he risked his life—and hers—every damn day. He kept that to himself. Fyodor wouldn’t want him upsetting Evangeline, nor did he want to.

  He gave her a curt nod as he moved across the floor, checking every table as he made his way to the restrooms. He scanned them quickly, around the legs, under the tabletops, to ensure no incendiary device or explosives had been placed there.

  “Timur?”

  Evangeline was being insistent. What was he going to say? Fyodor had received more death threats? That was a common enough occurrence. However, this particular threat he was taking seriously, but his brother wasn’t—as usual. Timur knew they’d taken too many chances and sooner or later their luck was going to run out. His gut—never to be ignored—told him their luck was long gone and this time the threat was very real.

  “Make me a double latte.”

  “A double latte?” She was clearly shocked.

  He needed the caffeine. He needed her busy. He gave her another curt nod and shoved open the men’s restroom door. He checked it carefully, every stall, making certain his brother was safe from any assassin, and then he checked the women’s room. The moment he put his hand on the door to push it open, he knew, by the way his leopard went crazy, that it was occupied. He didn’t care. He wasn’t there to cater to anyone’s sensibilities. He was there to make certain Fyodor wasn’t murdered.

  She stood in front of the mirror, lipstick in her hand, and her eyes went wide when he strode in. Her eyes caught him first thing. They were almost too big for her face. A very light brown, amber really, like a fine whiskey you sipped at night when you just wanted to lay it all down. The amber was ringed with very thick, dark lashes, making her eyes stand out. Those lashes feathered down in long sweeps, curling at the ends.

  She turned toward him, lipstick held slightly in front of her as if that could stop him if he came at her. He knew he was intimidating. He was tall, had wide shoulders and a thick chest. Ropes of muscle rippled along his arms, back and chest and down his abdomen. His heart thudded unexpectedly. Hard. An ache he’d never experienced.

  She was beautiful. He could see her front, those breasts pushing at her thin tank. The small, tucked-in waist that wasn’t in the least hidden by her shirt. She had hips and a very nice ass, which he’d noticed the moment he walked in. She filled those soft blue jeans to perfection. He kept walking right past her and yanked open each of the stall doors. It wouldn’t have mattered to him had they been locked. He still would have made the inspection. Fortunately, they were all empty; she was the only occupant in the room.

  When he’d stepped past her to get to the stalls, he’d inhaled instinctively. She smelled faintly of grapefruit and fresh-cut cypress. Who smelled like that? Evidently he liked it, or, more importantly, his leopard did. Usually, if he got too close to a human being, male or female, his leopard raged, wanting to kill. Needing to draw blood. For the first time, the cat had gone entirely quiet. That never happened. As in—never . Even when he was close to Evangeline and his leopard settled, the cat was never like this. Quiet. Almost purring.

  “You are?” he demanded. Shit. There was no denying his Russian accent or his growl. Both came out overly strong.

  He doubted if the top of her head came up to the middle of his chest, but she narrowed her eyes at him in what, he suspected, was supposed to be a scary look.

  “I’m in the women’s bathroom, which is supposed to be private to women .”

  Sass. The woman had sass in abundance. Stupidity as well. He stepped closer to her, close enough that the tips of her breasts brushed his abs. She had to tilt her head all the way back to look up at him.

  “You don’t fuck with a man like me,” he advised.

  She nodded. “No, I won’t. Not ever. Thanks for the advice.”

  Her voice was even enough, but she was totally fucking with him now, using his own words against him. He had to hand it to her, she kept a straight face and even managed wide-eyed innocence.

  God help him, his body chose that moment to betray him. His physical reaction to her was intense. His cock lengthened and grew into a monster, roaring at him just the way his leopard always did, painful now. He didn’t dare step forward or back. She had to feel it. There was no hiding it and he kept his expression blank, but he did a hell of a lot of inward cursing—and he used his own language too. Never once in his life had he had such a problem. Now, of all times, his body had decided to react on its own.

  He took a breath and resisted the idea of patting her down. By now, Fyodor was going to be restless. He wanted to see his woman and he would just …

  “Is there a problem, Timur?” His brother’s voice came smoothly over the tiny radio.

  Looking straight into her eyes, Timur answered. “No problem. Give me a minute.” His men were up on rooftops, watching over the car and keeping Fyodor safe while Timur checked out the interior of the bakery.

  He was met with silence. That could mean anything. Fyodor might decide to not give Timur any shit for once and stay in the car, or he could just come striding in. In any case, Timur had to get away from close proximity to the woman. She was wreaking havoc with him and his leopard. For once, instead of demanding blood, his cat was acting weird, rolling around and practically purring. It was not only annoying, it was throwing him off his game.

  “Tell me your name.”

&nb
sp; “Ashe Bronte.”

  “You made that up.”

  “You’re just the nicest man I’ve ever met.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “If you don’t like it, you’ll have to take it up with my parents. Unfortunately, they’re both deceased, so you might have a little trouble finding them.”

  She pushed past him, and he let her go. She had hair. Lots of it. It was thick and wild, a light blond that also emphasized her unusual eyes. It was only after the door closed behind her, and he was left to stand alone in the cool of the ladies’ room, that he realized his leopard had been calm the entire time. Silent . There was no vicious raking. No demand for blood. Not even when his body had touched her body. For the first time in years he knew respite from his cat’s constant fury. But the minute the woman was out of his sight, his leopard reacted, going insane, fighting for control.

  This was what Fyodor had found with Evangeline. She tamed the beast in him just by being in close proximity. Timur refused to allow his heart to accelerate, or the adrenaline to be released into his bloodstream. Just because, for a few short minutes, his leopard hadn’t clawed for freedom and blood, it didn’t mean this woman would do for him what Evangeline did for Fyodor.

  He turned abruptly and followed her out. She was walking across the shop floor, straight to the counter. The way she moved in her jeans was a work of art. His heart did a funny stutter as he watched her talk to Evangeline for a moment and then step behind the counter.

  “Evangeline?” It was a demand. Nothing less. She couldn’t hire someone, as she’d clearly done, without following protocol.

  Evangeline tried to win in a stare down, and it wasn’t happening. She sighed and came out from behind the counter to catch his arm and guide him across the room, presumably out of earshot, although the bakery wasn’t that large and he figured whatever she said was going to be overheard.

  “I know. I’m sorry, Timur, but she needed a job and she has experience. I can’t keep having your men, who break my things, try to pretend they’re baristas. They aren’t. I know why you want them in the shop, but they’re losing me customers. She’s fast, knows her drinks, remembers customers’ names and doesn’t glare at them or intimidate them in any way.”