Leopard's Run Page 11

  He set up a meeting with Drake Donovan and all of their trusted allies, promising first that they would deal with the hit squad. They couldn’t have those men sneaking behind their backs while they readied themselves for war. They also needed the women safe, and that meant Evangeline would have to turn her beloved bakery over to someone else for a time. Timur made it abundantly clear that Ashe would be going with Evangeline. Fyodor protested.

  “You said yourself you can’t tell what’s the truth. She led them straight here.”

  “She’s my leopard’s mate,” Timur argued patiently when he didn’t feel patient at all. “She’s mine, Fyodor. Mine. She’ll be your sister-in-law, so shut the fuck up and deal with it.”

  “We may all end up dead with a viper right in the heart of our nest,” Fyodor groused, but he didn’t protest again.

  Still, Timur knew that meant Fyodor would be questioning Ashe himself and it probably wouldn’t be pretty. He’d stick close just in case. His brother was very protective of Evangeline and Timur couldn’t blame him.

  “I’ve got everything we need to get these fuckers,” Vitaly said.

  6

  THERE was a certain smell to law enforcement, as if they rubbed shoulders during their morning meetings or all inhaled the same closed-in air. Maybe it was just a look about them in spite of their plain clothes. Ashe didn’t know exactly, but her father had taught her at an early age to be observant and to use every sense she had. She’d inhaled the scent of officers and smelled that same faint scent on plainclothesmen. Now, she was certain, there was a convention for undercover cops being held right in the bakery.

  Evangeline obviously knew a few of them and she handled them exactly as she did every other customer. She smiled and chatted with them while she worked as fast and efficiently as ever. She seemed to pick up names fast and she retained them. By the afternoon, Ashe was certain Evangeline could charm the birds out of the trees. She certainly had the policemen enamored of her.

  There was one called Jeff Meyers who flirted outrageously with Evangeline. Ashe studied him while she drew a shot for his drink. He wasn’t joking like some of the others. He definitely had a thing for her boss. While Jeff flirted with Evangeline, his partner, Ray Harding, tried doing the same with her.

  Ashe had been programmed at an early age by her father to be careful around any law enforcement. She’d never understood why, but it made her leery. Right now, with so many on- and off-duty police in the bakery, she was on edge. She exchanged a quick, concerned glance with Evangeline. What were they all doing there? They knew Fyodor had an office there, but if they were watching the bakery, they would have known he wasn’t there.

  Evangeline shrugged, telling Ashe that customers were just that and it was good for business. Even if Fyodor came in, he hadn’t done anything to warrant an arrest. But what about Timur? Anxiety gripped her. She was fairly certain Timur did a lot of things to warrant his arrest. He might be doing something right that very minute and every one of the police officers knew about it. She didn’t because she never carried a cell phone.

  Deliberately, she bumped her hip against Evangeline’s in passing. When her boss turned to look at her, she mouthed, “Text Timur. Make certain he’s all right.”

  Evangeline nodded, and kept working as though they hadn’t consulted at all. She drew three more drinks and sold fifteen pastries, all to one table before she pushed open the door to the kitchen to get another tray out. Ashe saw her pull her phone from her pocket.

  She smiled at Ray, who was hovering. “Another? Are you certain? You’re getting double shots. You’ll be unable to fall asleep if you keep it up,” she warned. Then she could have groaned aloud when she saw his inevitable grin at her choice of words.

  “You come out with me tonight and I can show you why sleeping is overrated,” he said, leaning one elbow on the counter.

  Deep inside, she felt that alien being, her cat, stretch languidly. It was really weird knowing she was a shifter, like her mother and father, that all along a leopard had been dormant inside her. She’d dreamt of having her own leopard after her parents had shown her theirs. She’d wanted one, but now, she was very aware the mood of the leopard could affect her own mood.

  “I’m thinking that’s as cheesy as hell, Mr. Harding.” She flashed him a look from under her lashes, all too aware several of the cops in the room were listening. She leaned closer, as if she was being conspiratorial. “What’s with the sudden show of the boys in blue? Not that I’m complaining, you all make me feel very safe, but we’ve never had this many in at one time.”

  Ray leaned one hip against the counter and turned to survey the room. “We took a vote this week and this bakery won, hands down, as the best in San Antonio. Everyone wanted to try Evangeline’s pastries.”

  He wasn’t a good liar. The fact that he was lying made her more anxious than ever. Why were they there? She smiled at him as she took his money. Cash. She was meticulous about giving him his change. She had a sudden nightmare vision of being hauled off by several cops for stealing pennies from Ray.

  “Call me Ray, not Mr. Harding. Mr. Harding is far too formal for a beautiful woman to be calling me. You’re making me feel old.”

  “You’re a customer, and Evangeline told me to address all customers by their surnames if they give it to me. You gave it to me.”

  “Clearly a mistake,” he said.

  She knew he waited for her to acknowledge his given name, but she pretended to be busy straightening pastries in the case.

  He sauntered away, trying to look casual. Timur always looked casually powerful, a look Ray hadn’t learned to pull off yet. She nearly groaned as she took the next order. She had it bad for Timur already and she hadn’t been around him all that much. She must really have a thing for dangerous men.

  The bell over the door sounded and she suppressed a little sigh as she glanced up. They hadn’t had a break during the morning and now the afternoon crowd showed no sign of slowing. Two men came in and her heart sank. They had every sign of being leopard with their stocky, fighter builds. They wore business suits, a dead giveaway as far as she was concerned. The bakery got its share of the business crowd, but the suits didn’t go with the toughness neither man could quite conceal.

  Directly behind the two men were Kyanite and Rodion. She recognized them from being in the bakery the day before. Evangeline had pointed them out as Fyodor’s security. That made her even more anxious. She didn’t want Fyodor anywhere near his wife’s Small Sweet Shoppe, not with two men she suspected were there to kill her and a room full of police officers.

  Her heart jumped and then began to pound. Kyanite flashed a grin at her and stepped around the two men who appeared to be reading the chalkboard menu. Now he was in front of them and Rodion was behind them.

  “Twenty-ounce latte,” he said and mouthed the words, “Just breathe. This is under control.”

  What was under control? How did Evangeline do it? She was busy with a customer, laughing, acting like she didn’t notice the potential war developing. Ashe forced air through her lungs. If she was contemplating, even for a moment, being a gangster’s moll, she wasn’t going to get far applying for the job. When the question came about how she did when cops and hit men were in the same room, she was going to flunk big-time.

  Then her leopard was there, rolling around like a kitten, purring loudly so that Ashe couldn’t fail to feel the stroking caresses along the insides of her body. That friction created a blossoming need that struck fast and ferociously, adding to her anxiety. Had Timur been there, she would have dragged him to the ladies’ room by his ridiculous tie and had her way with him. Multiple times. Because, seriously, with the monster need so urgent, painfully throbbing between her legs, she was certain once wouldn’t be enough to put out the fire.

  It came on so fast, she could barely think. Pressure built, coiling like a spring, winding tighter and tighter until she was sure the tension in her would snap. Every step she took, her jeans rubbed alon
g her clit, sending shooting sparks through her bloodstream and inflaming her more.

  “Take a break,” Evangeline said. “I’ve got this.”

  Hot color rushed up Ashe’s neck and into her face. Even Evangeline knew that she was exhibiting the signs of heat in her cat. Where the hell was Timur when she needed him? Evangeline looked at her with sympathy, but Kyanite and Rodion, along with the two hit men, stared at her with fixed fascination and more than a little lust.

  Abruptly, she turned and hurried into the privacy of the very warm kitchen. She had never wished for a cell phone. Her father had told her those were too easy to track, even the ones supposedly untraceable could be traced. She believed her father. He’d been a genius in a lot of ways. He’d built their own generator and could take apart and put together a computer. He didn’t seem such a genius now when she wanted to call Timur and tell him to run over. As in run . Fast.

  Her body felt on fire. Scorching hot. Desperate for relief. She paced and breathed deeply, trying to rid herself of the hormones raging through her bloodstream. Something moved beneath her skin and her entire body itched, the wave slipping through her at an alarming rate, slowing and then beginning over again.

  Her breasts felt swollen and achy. Her nipples were twin burning peaks. Her clit pounded with hot blood, but deep in her core intensity raged, a fiery passionate storm she couldn’t control. She needed sex desperately. Timur’s kind of sex. Hot and brutal. Wild. She wanted him to be so desperate for her that the moment he saw her, he would throw her up against the wall and get down to a savage pace that would quench the need pouring through her.

  The broom closet door slowly opened. The movement was so stealthy, she might not have noticed but for her leopard, who was on alert. She wanted a mate near. She was rubbing and calling out, using her very potent pheromones to signal her closeness to her time. She wanted her mate close. Any motion, no matter how small, attracted her attention.

  Ashe backed up, getting around the work island to put distance between the closet and her. She could try to hide, but the pheromones were easily read by a male leopard. If the hit team—and she was identifying the men as such—was the distraction so another member could slip inside and kill her, her going into heat had only aided them. She looked around quickly for a weapon. Evangeline had spilled milk earlier and had mopped it up. The mop lay against the far wall, its handle a long, thick wooden cylinder, the only thing she could see that might work. She made her way to it while the door continued to open.

  As her fingers settled around the long handle, a man in a blue shirt burst out from behind the door. She swung the mop with all her strength at his head. It was the last thing he was prepared for. A knife dropped from nerveless fingers as she connected with his head, knocking him backward so that his back hit the closet door, slamming it closed. He seemed to bounce, and she hit him again.

  Ashe had no idea if the background music playing would drown out the sound of the slamming closet door, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together to keep from making a sound. The man drew a gun from his boot and started to lift it. She struck, slashing down on his arm with the thick wooden pole.

  “Bitch,” he snarled, as the gun went flying.

  “Kyanite!” She wasn’t too proud to call for help, especially when blue shirt caught the mop handle and yanked. “Kyanite! I need your help.”

  The man ripped the pole out of her hands and she leapt toward the far corner where the gun had landed. Now, he was in possession of the longer reach and he swung it at her head with lethal force.

  Kyanite leapt into the air from the doorway, driving at his opponent’s chest with both feet. He took him all the way down to the floor. They landed in a rolling tangle of arms and legs. She stood there, holding her breath, legs apart, hands up and aiming straight at the assassin’s head. The problem was, her target kept moving, and she couldn’t fire and take the chance of hitting Kyanite. Nor did she want to fire, not with a roomful of cops just beyond the kitchen door.

  “I knocked over the mop bucket, Evangeline,” she called. “Sorry. We’re cleaning it up.”

  Both men could shift easily, both partially and wholly, and did so, raking claws down chests and bellies to try to eviscerate or slice each other’s heart. Blood sprayed across Evangeline’s clean floor, marring the black and white tiles and the lower doors of the oak cabinets. Then Rodion was there. She knew he must have heard the fighting, which meant any other leopard in the room heard as well. She didn’t care if that tipped off the entire police force; she didn’t want Kyanite to die because of her.

  She turned the music up and stuck her head through the door. “Sorry, Evangeline, Kyanite slipped in the water and hit the sound bar. He keeps falling into the island and he’s sent all the dishes crashing down. Don’t worry, I’ll get it clean.” She deliberately let herself sound desperate, so that she was believable. She looked only at Evangeline while she spoke and then she closed the door again.

  Rodion timed his entry into the fight, looking at his partner. Something passed between them—she caught just a glimpse of expression and eye movement. Kyanite shifted again, and using two claws, ripped his opponent open, at the same time turning the man’s body so that his head was close to Rodion.

  Ashe was certain the assassin never saw death coming. Rodion caught the man’s head in his very strong hands and wrenched. Slowly, the assailant’s body relaxed and then he lay dead on the floor, all life drained out of him. It seemed to be such a gradual process, that dying. His body went first and then she saw the life leave his eyes. Her stomach lurched.

  It was Kyanite who took the gun from her hands. She slowly sank to the floor, adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she realized her leopard was going crazy in an effort to protect her.

  She’d practiced for this moment and she’d blown it. Completely. “I’m sorry, Kyanite, I didn’t have a clear shot.” She hadn’t moved around the fighting either, as she should have, but she’d been mesmerized by the horrific battle between the two leopards. They’d fought as humans and as cats. Sometimes half and half. “I’m afraid I didn’t do very well my first time out.”

  “You did fine,” Kyanite objected. “More than fine. The other two have taken off. They’ll know soon enough that their friend didn’t make it out of here alive, nor did he get to you.” He turned his head to glare at his partner. “What the fuck took you so long? One shot or yell, and every cop in that room would be back here and we’d be tied up with bullshit questions for hours.”

  Rodion had the grace to look embarrassed. “Honestly? I thought, at first, she called you back here to … um … help her. You know. As in help. I was trying to figure out how to cover your back when Timur found out.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Kyanite snapped. “Do you think I’m the kind of man who would poach on a brother’s territory?”

  Could this get any more humiliating? First, they all felt the effects of her leopard’s heat. Now, they were discussing her as if she wasn’t a real person at all. They’d designated her Timur’s property, and that meant Kyanite wouldn’t cross that line with her.

  “Commendable.” She forced her body to move when it didn’t want to cooperate. “I’m not Timur’s woman, or his mate, or whatever you think I am to him, and that isn’t an invitation to either of you.”

  Rodion nudged Kyanite. “There’s that little flash of temper we were warned about.”

  Fury burned through her, an aftermath of her leopard’s rising heat. She needed an outlet for her scattered emotions. “Who told you I had a temper?”

  Kyanite grinned at her. “Wash up, malen’kly smirch. ”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “What did you just call me?”

  “It means ‘little tornado’,” Rodion said helpfully.

  Kyanite kept grinning, completely unrepentant. “That’s what Timur calls you.”

  “Not to my face, he doesn’t,” Ashe said. “That’s because he’s a very smart man. It’s a good thing you have the gun
in your possession, otherwise it might accidentally go off.” She turned away from them with an indignant sniff. Her leopard had settled, and Evangeline would want a break.

  “Ashe, you might want to wash up,” Rodion pointed out again.

  She hurried to the bathroom to clean up. Evangeline couldn’t hold the line with policemen everywhere, not alone anyway. Since she considered this her mess to clean up, she needed to step up her game and give Evangeline whatever she needed.

  “Kye?” She shortened his name because it was so much easier. She came out of the bathroom drying off her hands. Trying not to look at the dead body they were rolling up in a large tarp, she forced air through her lungs. “Do you think they came for me? Or for Evangeline? I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “What matters right now is that neither of you were harmed. We’ve got a roomful of cops, honey, and it seems to me there’s a reason they’ve come.”

  The door swung inward and Evangeline stuck her head through the opening. “You about ready, Ashe? It’s quieting down and I could use a break.” She looked tired. Flushed. So un-Evangeline-like. She took a step into the room and staggered.

  Ashe leapt over the island work table and landed beside her, circling her waist with one arm and taking her weight. “What’s wrong?” Had the hit team managed to get off a shot before they left the bakery? A poisoned dart, maybe? That would be silent enough. “Did you feel a sting? Like a wasp bite?” If by drawing the hit team to Evangeline’s door her friend was harmed or even worse, she would never forgive herself.

  “Shit, Evangeline,” Rodion snapped, coming up on her other side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just feel a little faint. I’m too warm all of a sudden. I didn’t eat breakfast, and I think maybe my sugar is low.” Evangeline sounded like she always did, very matter-of-fact. She didn’t seem bothered by her weakness. “Go out there and make sure our local police don’t get any ideas about visiting our kitchen. “And Kye, you can stay and explain to me what’s going on while Rodion sticks with Ashe.”