Leopard's Fury Read online

  Alonzo moved out from behind the counter and instantly both Timur and Mitya stepped between him and the door. Alonzo didn't look at the undercover cops, but he saw them, saw Brice's exchange with the other two, and knew at some point they would be trying to talk to his woman and dissuade her from seeing him. He was going to have to shut that shit down fast.

  He took his table, drank his coffee and ate the cinnamon apple pastry she'd made for him. It was light and flaky and warm. It smelled like her. The last of the work crowd came in, hastily trying to get coffee for their trip home. Her smile never wavered, although he knew she had to be exhausted. She knew most of her customers by name and genuinely seemed to want to know about them. That, he decided, was her gift. She was interested in the people coming to her bakery. She always asked about loved ones. She laughed a lot, but he noticed that the affectionate, loving smile she gave only to him was never in evidence.

  He loved her for that. Loved that something in the world was his alone. His woman. Her kisses. That smile. When the last customer was gone, she flipped the sign to closed and then went back behind the counter. He sipped coffee that was ambrosia for the gods and watched her clean the machines. She was fast and efficient. He loved watching her work. He didn't even pretend he wasn't watching.

  She glanced up, color swept up her face and she shook her head, a small smile curving her bottom lip. He was going to spend time biting that bottom lip.

  "Stop lookin' at me."

  "I like looking at you."

  "Well, stop it. It's distractin'."

  Timur snickered, a sound Alonzo found annoying. Timur had made it clear over and over that Evangeline was a danger to his brother. He'd been raised the same as Alonzo and didn't get what a relationship with the right woman could be. All he saw was that every enemy Alonzo had would know to go to the bakery if they wanted a shot at killing him. She was a vulnerability he couldn't afford. Worse, Timur knew Alonzo would do anything he could to keep her safe.

  He shot his brother a look that told him to back off. Timur raised an eyebrow but didn't look intimidated. That was the problem with brothers. And cousins. Mitya was giving him that same "are you nuts" look. It hadn't occurred to either one of them that they could find a woman of their own.

  "There's a storage room."

  Evangeline's voice was soft. Shy. An offering? He wasn't certain what she meant. He raised an eyebrow at her. She kept pulling the last of the pastries out of the display case and then began to wash it.

  "In the back, off the kitchen."

  "Your office, kretin," Timur translated.

  That earned him a snicker from his cousins as well. Evangeline flushed more and turned away, clearly embarrassed. He considered leaping across the room and punching his brother in the face. That would be more than satisfactory. And then he'd do the same for Gorya, Mitya and Sevastyan. His leopard stretched, liking the idea. They hadn't seen action in a while. A good fight would take the edge off.

  It would be pure sublimation, but he could live with that. He got up slowly, and instantly his brother and cousins knew his intent just by the way he moved. They spread out, Timur grinning a little bit.

  "Not. In. Here." Evangeline enunciated each word carefully. "I mean it, Alonzo, you take it outside. I've had enough to last me a few weeks with your shenanigans. Don't make me angry."

  Alonzo halted in the middle of the shop. Dead center. Right in the midst of his four bodyguards. His palms itched and his fingers curled into fists to relieve the ache in his joints. His leopard wanted a fight even more than he did, if that was possible. Still, he stopped moving. Forced his body to relax, to stand down. Timur, damn him, snickered again.

  "My brother needs a little lesson in manners."

  "I'm certain he does," Evangeline agreed. She sprayed the case with glass cleaner. "But not in here. You'll break something. Like my brand-new bulletproof-glass windows. Thank you very much, Timur."

  "You're welcome," Timur murmured, unrepentant. Deliberately egging Alonzo on.

  "We have a cleaning crew coming in to do that," Alonzo said. He put a hand to his neck and massaged at the tension coiled there. "Let's go home, solnyshko moyo. I'm tired tonight." He was tired. He hadn't slept all night and he wanted to go to that home where it smelled like paradise and lie beside her. Maybe, if he was really, really lucky, he could seduce her.

  He'd made up his mind he wouldn't take advantage of the fact that he could seduce her with kisses. He wanted her to make the choice to give her body to his keeping. He knew she was nervous. She was inexperienced and she didn't give herself lightly, but he could have her. He just wanted to be her choice. He didn't blame her for being afraid. He wasn't a good man. He couldn't go back and change that. He could try to make up for it, but he couldn't change what he was at his core. What his father had shaped him to be.

  Evangeline's eyes came to his. Rested there. Soft. That smile. All his. "Okay, honey," she said, surprising him. "We'll go home."

  She hadn't gotten much sleep either. He wanted that for her, but more, he wanted to be inside of her where he belonged.

  Her gaze suddenly jumped to something behind him, the smile fading, alarm taking its place. Simultaneously his leopard went crazy, raging a warning, all claws and fury, rising fast, pushing hard to emerge. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Timur spinning, his hand going under his coat to pull his gun.

  9

  IN that split second, Evangeline realized making a decision was not always rational or well thought out. She only knew that she made it decisively. Fyodor/Alonzo was her choice. Not her leopard's. Not his. He was her choice. He'd been her choice from the moment he'd sauntered into her bakery all those months ago.

  These men were coming to kill him. In that instant, that split second, she knew they wanted his death. No one had ever stood for him, and she was going to do it. She didn't think about his bodyguards, only about making certain no one took him from her. No one got to shoot him or stab him or poison him. He belonged to her and she was going to take care of him.

  She put one hand on the counter and launched herself, reaching for her female's speed and strength. Time slowed down. She saw every detail as she flung herself at Alonzo. His bodyguards turning toward the door. Men filling the door, men with guns already spitting fire. Alonzo shouted at her, whipping a gun out, shaking his head, yelling to his guards to protect her.

  She hit him hard--and he was a solid wall of muscle--taking him over face-first so that he staggered, but caught her in midflight. Still, her body covered his and she felt the burning kiss along the side of her head, up high near her temple and two more harder blasts that radiated throughout her body along her arm and thigh. Then Mitya hit them both, taking them to the ground. Alonzo's gun fired right next to her ear. She felt the heat of it, although mostly she felt pain. The agony spread through her fast.

  She kept trying to cover Alonzo's body with her own, which now, thinking about it, was a little silly. He was twice her size, and Mitya had both of them locked to the ground. He was firing his weapon as well.

  Alonzo's hand went to her hair. Stroked. Trembled. "Solnyshko moyo, don't move. Don't fucking move. Mitya, get off her."

  She realized she couldn't hear the sound of guns anymore. It was quiet. Still. She kept her face buried in Alonzo's shirt, afraid if she moved her body would shatter.

  "Talk to me, Evangeline. Let me know you're still with me."

  There was fear in his voice, but now that she had time to give it some thought and the shock was wearing off, she knew she couldn't be hurt too bad. She felt warm blood pouring down her head, lots of it, and more soaking her arm and thigh. The bullets had been sprayed across the room looking for any target. They'd hit her left side as she covered Alonzo before Mitya slammed into both of them, taking them to the ground.

  "Are you hit?" She blurted out the question against his shirt.

  His hands ran over her body. Mitya was doing the same. She tried not to cry. It hurt like a son of a bitch. Su
rely if it was really, really bad, she wouldn't be so aware of everything. Mostly she needed reassurance that Alonzo hadn't been shot.

  Not too bad. Her female assured. They weren't very good shots. Fyodor and his men were better at it.

  The animal didn't sound worried; in fact, she sounded almost complacent, but Evangeline felt her concern.

  "Damn it, woman. What the fuck were you thinking?" Alonzo snarled.

  "Are you hit?" she repeated, needing him to answer.

  "He's not," Mitya said, his voice calm but strangely strained. "Stay still, I'm going to turn you over and lay you down. Sevastyan, Gorya, lock that door and turn off the lights. If we're lucky no one saw this mess. Call in help. We need someone to clean this up. Your first priority is Alonzo, no matter what the fuck he says."

  "I've got her," Timur told Alonzo, his voice unexpectedly gentle. So were his hands. "Stop growling at her, brat, she protected you. We should have expected it."

  Evangeline heard the wonder and a hint of respect. She managed to clench her teeth as both men very gently turned her over and laid her on the floor. Her breath hissed out of her lungs and then Alonzo was crouched beside her, his face set in grim lines. His eyes, always as cold as a glacier and just as beautifully blue, were all gold. Completely. His cat stared at her, assessing the damage along with her man.

  "Don't you ever do something like that again," Alonzo snarled, unable to get his leopard to stand down when he was raging as well. Worried out of his mind. She could see that and maybe another time might even appreciate it, but right now she hurt so bad she wanted to scream. She closed her eyes to block out the sight of leopard and man furious with her.

  There was blood pooling under her and she thought that strange. She hadn't been shot in the back and yet when she'd been laid down, there was already a huge puddle of blood. She was lying in someone's blood. She was certain of it. She forced her eyes open and did an anxious scan of Alonzo again.

  Mitya's large body trembled and then he sat abruptly. Her gaze jumped to his face and it was nearly gray.

  "Oh, God," she whispered, "he's been shot."

  Alonzo turned to look at his cousin. The others did the same. Timur immediately was at Mitya's side, carefully easing him down and finding the wound. He swore in Russian. Evangeline didn't like the look on his face, or the one he shot to his cousins. She especially didn't like the way they all looked at each other. Timur pressed his hands tightly to Mitya's thigh while Sevastyan gripped his hand.

  "Not like this, Mitya," Alonzo whispered. "We survived all that shit. You can't go out like this."

  "Don't you fuckin' die on us, Mitya. Not like this. Not with some lame-ass attempt that shouldn't have happened," Sevastyan added his demand.

  Alonzo was calm again, his features frozen into their carved lines. His eyes were so gold she was afraid the leopard would break free, but his voice was absolutely under control, low and commanding as he spoke on the phone.

  "A helicopter's in the air, both of you just hang on."

  The bell hadn't worked when they'd opened the door. Evangeline relied on that bell. There was a motion detector over the door outside. That hadn't lit up either. She ran her hand along her hip and down her thigh until she found Mitya's arm and then she did the same to his arm until she found his hand. She gripped it tightly.

  The world around her faded in and out, but she concentrated on feeling Mitya's hand in hers. "Hold on," she whispered softly. He had flung his body over hers. That was why she was hit on one side and not her back. He'd taken the bullet or bullets for her as well as Alonzo. He could have tackled Alonzo from the side and taken him down, leaving her to be shot, but he hadn't. "Just hold on."

  She didn't know if he heard her, but Alonzo's hands moved on her body and it hurt. She would recognize his touch anywhere, but usually he was so gentle. "Hurts," she whispered, trying to move away from him.

  "I know, solnyshko moyo, I'm sorry. Just hold still for me. We'll have help soon. Jake's sent a helicopter and the doctor is on standby. He's a friend of Jake's. He's leopard, one of us, and his team is as well."

  A helicopter. That would be new. She'd never been in a helicopter before, but it was getting harder to stay focused, to even feel Mitya's hand in hers. His fingers sometimes gripped hers and other times went slack. That scared her, but Timur always seemed to rally him.

  Sevastyan and Timur spoke to him in Russian, and twice Alonzo got down so his face was next to Mitya's, and he too spoke in Russian to his cousin. It sounded like affection and command mixed together. In spite of the fear and pain ripping through her, that moment would be forever etched on her mind. He looked so caring. It was beautiful to see him lying beside his cousin, whispering softly to him in their native language. Mitya tried to nod several times but then writhed in pain. Instantly Alonzo put a calming hand on him and the man shuddered and went still.

  "Stay with us," she whispered, wishing she knew Russian. But things were fading to black and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hold on to anything, let alone a dying man.

  "Evangeline. Open your eyes, malyutka. I need you to look at me," Alonzo insisted.

  His voice shook her. Deep. Low. Commanding. He wasn't about to let her go. Either of them. Mitya or her. She counted on him. Counted on the fact that when he made up his mind on something, he meant it. She'd hated that trait in him. The one that had him arbitrarily claiming her. The one that had him putting bulletproof glass and cameras in her bakery. Now, she needed that stubborn, entitled, everyone-does-what-I-say trait desperately. She felt sick with pain. With fear. She couldn't imagine what Mitya felt like.

  She knew she didn't make a sound because of her childhood. No matter how hurt she was, she knew not to give her position away. A wounded animal never allowed a predator to know it was wounded. That would be certain death.

  "Evangeline. Devochka moya. Open your eyes. Look at me."

  She'd gone still. Almost paralyzed with fear for Mitya. For herself. In spite of her leopard's reassurances, the worry in the animal and the pain she felt, along with the fact that she felt she couldn't move, were terrifying.

  His voice gave her reassurance. She didn't like that he was anxious and she did her best to obey him. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them up to look into his eyes. It was difficult and she wanted to sleep. That might take her away from the pain.

  His hand went to her throat, wrapped around it so he could feel her heart beating into his palm. He leaned down until his lips were pressed against her ear. "Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you. Ti nuzhna mne. I need you, woman. Don't you leave me, Evangeline. I mean it. You stay with me."

  It was a command. It was a plea. She heard both and she tried to stay focused on his eyes. She loved his eyes. Loved the way they were frozen, like she imagined Siberia to be, and yet, beneath those twin glaciers could burn a blue passionate flame. Right now they were all gold. Molten. Like his raging leopard. Why wasn't his leopard reassuring him? That was just a little scary. Was she really that bad?

  They both refuse to listen. Her female sounded annoyed. I'm supposed to take care of you. Not them. Very snippy. You're mine.

  Now Evangeline heard the worry just as she'd felt it earlier. Her leopard had done exactly the same thing when she was a child and the vile, scary male leopard had prowled out in the swamp looking for her. He'd caught traces of her numerous times, but she was very good at hiding her trail, even her scent. She'd learned about mud and dirt and other plants that would mask any odor. Her leopard had reassured her in a casual, almost offhand way, as if there were no danger at all, but as she'd grown, she knew the leopard was trying to spare her.

  You said it wasn't bad.

  You hurt. He's bad. The other one with the bad-tempered male. His wound is very bad. Your man knows. He worries for both of you.

  The male claiming you is bad tempered.

  Not with me, her female pointed out.

  Evangeline made an effort to squeeze Mitya's hand tightly, but the best she could do wa
s a weak attempt. Her lashes drifted down several times. Each time, Alonzo tightened his hold on her throat as if by holding her like that, her pulse in his palm, he could keep her from stealing away.

  "Net, net, Evangeline, don't you try to slip away from me." Alonzo pressed his mouth to hers. "Breathe, devochka moya."

  "They're here," Gorya announced. He stepped over two of the three dead bodies to unlock the door.

  Two men swept in, one going to Mitya's side, the other to Evangeline's. They immediately began setting IVs.

  "We'll give you morphine for the ride," the nurse said to Mitya. "You hold on, you hear me? We're transporting now. We don't have time to waste. Is she ready to travel?" he barked at his companion.

  "Yes."

  Evangeline had never had drugs of any kind before and her leopard didn't like it. At first the animal fought the sensations, but as her human companion's body accepted it and she was able to deal better with the pain as they were loading her onto a gurney, the cat settled, curling up and making herself small. Evangeline couldn't imagine what Mitya's male was doing. The danger was, while Mitya was unable to be in control, his male, every bit a killer like Alonzo's, would emerge and savage everyone in sight.

  She felt Alonzo's hand in hers as he ran alongside the gurney to the helicopter the pilot had set down in the park just one block down from her shop. He couldn't ride with her, the space was cramped, and he bent to brush her lips with his.

  "Stay, Evangeline. I'll meet you at the hospital. You fight, you hear me? You fight." Alonzo watched them get her inside and he turned back toward his brother, his hand at the nape of his neck, uncaring that he had blood all over him. It was her blood. Mitya's blood. "Let's go."

  "We've got the cops and dead bodies," Timur ventured, reluctance in his voice. "Thankfully we've got cameras. There is no denying it was self-defense."

  "I have to go to the hospital," Alonzo said. "Send the cops there if they want to talk to me. I can't be here when she's there. And Mitya . . . It doesn't look good."

  "Go then. Sevastyan, go with Alonzo," Timur said decisively. "Don't let him out of your sight, no matter what he says. Gorya and I will stay and deal with the police and their questions."