Leopard's Run Read online

He forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. The world fell away until there was only his woman and her incredible mouth. The fire roaring between them. The electricity arcing from one to the other. His body reacted the way it always did, going hard and making urgent demands.

  Her mouth was as hot as hell, the firestorm raging out of control that fast. It was a beautiful, terrible thing, to fall so far, so fast. His hand tightened in her hair.

  “We need to get a privacy screen for the car.” She whispered the words against his ear. “Imagine how I could make all that tension disappear right out of you if we had that screen.” Her mischievous smile went right through his cock.

  He knew she felt that part of him straining against his trousers, reaching for her. “I could care less if they were here watching.”

  “Sadly for you, I do.” Her grin went wider, and her eyes danced. She slipped off his lap and reached for the seat belt. “Safety first and all that.”

  “I will retaliate,” he warned.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  He realized she’d distracted him from the continual reports on his phone. The anger was gone, replaced by a much more enjoyable sensation. He glanced down at his phone.

  I’ve sent word to Drake to have Joshua look discreetly into his two uncles as well as Charisse and her brother, Armande. If he missed something and they’re doing business with either Emilio or Ulisse, we could be in trouble. Fyodor had sent the text.

  Someone sold us out, Timur texted back. Either one of them wants you gone. Emilio wanted Evangeline and had been very upset when she’d chosen Fyodor. Ulisse just wanted to expand his territory. He was looking for power. There was always Lombardo to worry about as well. Hell, they had to worry about everyone.

  Is Mitya on alert? If this is Lazar’s hit team, they will go after him first.

  Timur wasn’t certain he agreed with Fyodor’s assessment. He’d had a lot of time to think about it. It was up to him to prepare for their uncles’ retaliation. Lazar would want to deliver the killing blow to the son he believed betrayed him and the code of the lair bratya . He might want to personally kill his nephews as well, but regardless, Mitya would be Lazar’s own target. He didn’t bother to explain his reasoning to Fyodor. What did it matter who was right and who was wrong? The hit squad was knocking on their door and had the help of a powerful scent-blocker.

  Mitya has been kept apprised of the situation.

  “A mile out, boss,” Rodion said.

  “Do we have a tail?”

  “Not that I’ve seen. I took evasive action, just to be certain, but I didn’t spot anyone remotely looking as if they were tailing us.”

  Timur threaded his fingers through Ashe’s. He wanted their world to be different, but he’d made his choice and there was no going back. “I’m not offering you a safe environment.”

  “I got that.”

  Her little smile twisted his insides, but he wanted her to know he was serious. “My leopard claimed yours, Ashe. He isn’t going to let her go. We both know that. I don’t want to let you go. Me. Not my leopard. You’re the first thing I’ve ever wanted for myself. You’re the first time I’ve ever thought maybe I could have some kind of life. I don’t want you to go, not for my leopard or yours, but for me.”

  He kept his voice low. There was no privacy, not when two leopards sat in the front seat with acute hearing. He would have much rather they heard her blowing him than his spilling his private emotions to her, but it had to be said and who knew if he was ever going to get another opportunity.

  Her fingers tightened around his. Her gaze drifted over his face, and everywhere her eyes touched seemed to burn her name deeper into him. He turned away from her, looking out the window, needing to breathe air that didn’t have her scent in it, that didn’t take her into his lungs. She was stamped into his bones and wrapped around his heart. He needed to be Timur, the man with no emotions. The man capable of great cruelties should they be necessary—and he feared they would be.

  The car came to a halt and beside him, Ashe removed her seat belt just as he removed his. Now, more than ever, he felt danger surround them. He’d always had that sense, that radar. He’d known the exact moment his father had made up his mind to kill his mother. Timur had used his leopard to make the run, trying to get home before it was too late. Gorya had run with him, neither exchanging so much as a sound, but both had known. Timur knew now.

  “They’re out there, Kyanite. Rodion, get as close to the front door as possible. I don’t give a damn about the landscaping. Take it right up to the door. They’re going to hit us the moment the doors open. Rodion, get out on the passenger side and into the house. There will be a moment we’re vulnerable. One moment. I’m texting Vitaly to open the door, but to stay under cover.”

  “Got it,” Rodion said as he maneuvered the car across the lawn and over the walkway. He positioned the car within feet of the door.

  Timur pushed send on the text to Vitaly and then, the moment the front door opened, he shoved the car door open as well. When he bailed out from the car, he dragged Ashe across the seat and jerked her out of the vehicle and under his shoulder. They ran the few steps to the safety of the house.

  Something heavy hit Timur and drove him to the ground. He felt the slash of claws and shifted, tearing at his clothes as he did so, shoving his woman as far as possible. Ashe rolled away from him toward the open door, taking his trench coat with her. His shirt ripped as his roped muscles changed to accommodate the cat’s size and ferocity. His had always been a large leopard. They rolled, two leopards in a tangle of cloth as his jeans tore but his shoes remained intact.

  He ripped at the leopard’s belly with a killer’s claws. His leopard had grown up in an environment of blood and hatred. Finding his mate hadn’t changed those things, nor would it ever. The leopard challenging him broke away, sides heaving. Timur’s cat had managed to score his assailant with savage claws while Timur’s own wounds were less severe, the loose skin and thick Amur fur protecting him.

  His last sight of Ashe had been of Vitaly’s hand wrapped around her arm, dragging her inside. If he survived, Timur made a mental note, he’d buy the bodyguard a good bottle of scotch. He deserved it. Timur shifted only two limbs, giving himself hands so he could untie his shoes and get them off. The entire time he was unlacing his shoes, his leopard watched his opponent through hate-filled eyes.

  They were a team, leopard and man. They were in perfect sync when it came to fighting. Timur wanted to win as quickly and as viciously as possible. His leopard held that same desire. Both had serious combat skills and were experienced. Timur’s brain worked fast, cataloging every weakness the other cat had. Obviously, the animal didn’t like to get hurt. It was used to leaping down from a high place and ending a battle quickly with a bite to the neck. The assassin was no Amur leopard, with his golden fur and lazy battle technique.

  The moment Timur had felt the cat’s weight on his back, driving him to the ground, he’d shifted his head and neck and turned just enough so the attacker hadn’t severed his spinal cord. His male got to his feet. He was a big leopard, mostly dark with golden rings around the rosettes pressed into his fur. Timur called him Temnyy, because of the darker color. The name meant dark one. He had the beautiful thick fur of the Amur leopard and was every bit as savage as any predator out there.

  Timur kept him in fighting shape. They trained daily. His entire security force trained. Weapons. Hand-to-hand combat. They ran scenarios all the time. Their leopards fought and kept battle-ready. That kept the human shifter on his toes, fighting for control to take it back from his leopard when his leopard went into a blood frenzy.

  If his male could have smiled, he would have. The lazy leopard facing him, used to his way of killing, had no real chance. He leapt into the air. His opponent jumped a fraction of a second after him. Temnyy, using his flexible spine, turned slightly to avoid claws and raked savagely down the exposed belly and genitals of the other cat. The leopard
screamed as it went down on all four feet.

  Temnyy was relentless, ripping and tearing at the cat as he landed beside it. His teeth tore into the throat, while his claws raked at the sides and belly. He didn’t break away as was expected. Often cats would fight and then pull back to take a breather. Timur didn’t believe in giving breathers. Often times the win went to who was in the best condition. He was determined that his leopard would always be in prime shape.

  That inner warning system blaring at him had Timur commanding Temnyy to leap away. As he did so, a second cat joined the first. This one was snarling and taunting, deliberately trying to draw Temnyy away from the injured leopard.

  A bullet hit the doorframe just inches from the Amur leopard, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions. The boom of a gun answered from somewhere on the roof, and Timur knew Gorya was up there. He was the best marksman they had. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing exactly where an opposing sniper would secret himself. It was Gorya who often saved the day, taking out their enemies from a distance.

  Temnyy attacked, uncaring of bullets, wanting to kill the leopard trying to drag itself away. He used the downed leopard as a springboard, hitting him so heavily on his back the snap was audible. He leapt from the now-dying leopard to the fresh one. For some insane reason, the newcomer hadn’t expected Temnyy to attack. The big cat landed on him, teeth driving deep, stiletto claws raking for a purchase in the thick fur. The cat howled and shook, trying to dislodge Temnyy.

  Move. Timur issued the command in a hard voice.

  Temnyy obeyed, leaping off and to one side. A shot rang out, followed by a second one. The bullet tore into the siding of the house, right where Temnyy’s head had been. This time, he was certain Gorya had scored a hit on the sniper. The two shots had nearly been simultaneous.

  Temnyy’s opponent whirled around and flung himself at Timur’s leopard. His lips were drawn back in a snarl of rage. The eyes were focused and deadly. Ears were down, lying flat on the head. Temnyy met him belly to belly, raking and clawing so that fur went in all directions.

  Rodion’s leopard tumbled past them, rolling away from his opponent and then was on his feet, rushing the cat that had attacked him. Timur could hear the sounds of Kyanite doing battle with another leopard as well. It seemed as though Lazar had sent an army of leopards after them.

  The leopard facing Timur scored a lucky rake across Temnyy’s face, tearing open skin so that blood poured out. That seemed to excite the cat and he drove at Temnyy, trying to take him off his feet by driving hard into his side. Temnyy waited, acting as if he was disoriented, and then at the last moment was in the air, whirling around and taking out his opponent’s hindquarters. He broke the back deliberately, so the leopard screamed with pain and the knowledge that he was helpless.

  Timur didn’t want to wait for Temnyy to deliver the killing bite. He urged his leopard to hurry, not gloat. Temnyy’s female was in the house unprotected, he pointed out, even though he knew several of his security people were with her. That did the trick. Temnyy stopped his pacing and fake attacks, rushed the downed leopard and delivered the killing bite.

  Timur immediately took over, forcing the leopard to shift, rubbing at the blood pouring from the rake mark across his forehead and temple. The cat’s claw had barely missed his eyes.

  “Check the house. Check the house,” Timur snapped as he caught the jeans someone tossed him. “They have a scent-blocker. That was staged. They wanted to kill me, but they needed the door open and they got it. When the first one jumped on me, and all eyes were there, another could have slipped inside via a window somewhere.”

  “No way could they have slipped in through the door, boss,” Kyanite said, dragging on his jeans. There was blood on his chest and dripping down one arm. “I blocked the door. I made certain nothing got in this way.”

  “Then check every other entry and the windows as well. They had an entry point and they’re in this house. I know they are. I can feel them.” He dragged his own jeans on but didn’t bother to secure them. Instead, he strode through the great room toward the master bedroom where he knew Fyodor was safe inside the panic room. He could live in that room for weeks if need be. They had food and water and a bathroom. “Where’s Ashe?”

  “I’m here.” She stepped out of the drapes and then, instead of coming straight to him, turned to Kyanite. “I need a first aid kit. We have to stop that bleeding.” She looked past him to Rodion. “All three of you are a mess.”

  “There’s no time,” Timur said. He yanked her to him, relieved that she was alive and no one—human or cat—had touched her. “Get moving, baby.” He turned his attention to his men. “There’s more of them in this house. Find them. Be careful. They have a plan.”

  “They can’t know the layout of the house,” Kyanite said. “We barely know it.”

  “Timur.” Ashe was firm. “It isn’t going to do you any good if that blood gets into your eyes and obscures your vision. There’s a bathroom right here, let me look under the sink.”

  He gripped her upper arm hard but detoured with her into the bathroom. “Evangeline had her brother visit not too long ago. What the hell was his name? It was Cajun. Ambroise. He was here. She took him on the tour of the house. Wasn’t her father here as well? I wasn’t here that day.”

  Ashe pulled a first aid kit from under the sink, opened it and pressed a cold cloth to the long rake mark. She closed it with several butterfly bandages and then nodded. “You’re good. Where to?”

  She was all business in a war zone. Timur loved her all the more for that. “Kye, they’re in the house. They’re concealing themselves. I feel them here. Tell all the men to be watchful and ready to shift instantly. No shoes. Get them off.” His shoes had slowed him down and if his attacker had had more actual fighting experience, then he could have been in trouble. “Stay right behind me, Ashe. We’re heading to the safe room.”

  “That’s what they want you to do,” Ashe said as she fell into step behind him.

  “What?” Timur whipped around to face her. “What did you say?”

  “She showed her brother around the house, but she wouldn’t have told him about the safe room. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have shown it to him. Evangeline was very leery when she talked to me about her family. Even if they reconciled, I don’t think she’d trust them all that much. She’s sweet, Timur, but she remembers and she’s careful.”

  Timur knew those things about his sister-in-law, about her being careful, but he hadn’t taken the time to find out about her family. What did he know? She had two older brothers—Ambroise and Christophe. Her grandfather, Buford Tregre, had been a monster, and her father had taken her out to the swamp to hide her existence from the man. She’d grown up mostly alone, certainly not close to her family.

  Her father and uncle had been involved in the sale of opium, although both denied they knew much about the business. As far as he knew, Ambroise and Christophe weren’t involved at all. But someone was, and that someone had access to a scent-blocker that tied back to Evangeline’s family.

  Timur stood in the center of the room, away from the walls and any place a leopard might conceal itself before an attack. He stared down into Ashe’s upturned face. She was right. Their enemy might know the layout of the house, but they wouldn’t know about the safe room. They wouldn’t know where Fyodor and Evangeline were hidden. He’d been about to lead their enemy straight to his brother’s hideout.

  “I need somewhere safe to stash you.”

  “I need to stay with you,” Ashe denied. “I’m not going to play the crazy heroine, Timur. I’m quite fine leaving all fighting up to you.”

  He thought it over. He would much rather have her under his wing then somewhere in the house where he couldn’t see if she was safe or not. The leopards could smell them. Worse, her female was throwing off some strong pheromones. Every male leopard for miles would know she was in heat and he’d …

  “I can’t believe I’m about to sa
y this, but is there any chance you can get your female to react in some way to what is going on?”

  Her long lashes fluttered and then comprehension dawned. He half expected her to be angry that he might use her that way, but she grinned at him, the mischievous one that turned his insides to mush.

  “Bring your male close to the surface.”

  He cupped the side of her face, needing to touch her. Right there, in the middle of a potential war zone, he found himself falling deeper under her spell. He reached for his big male. Come close and call to your mate.

  At once Temnyy climbed toward the surface, pushing at his muscles and skin. The familiar itch moved over him like a wave. Then Temnyy was there, staring out of his eyes to look at the woman who carried his mate.

  Ashe smiled at him. “There you are. I see you.” Deliberately she stepped closer and laid her hand on Timur’s chest, right over his heart.

  At once the leopard scented the potent female as she rose in Ashe toward her mate. She was coquettish, rubbing along the walls of her prison, but Timur could see her, those darker rings spreading through the amber of Ashe’s eyes. Her scent permeated the room. All those pheromones telling every male leopard she was in heat. Ready. Or close to ready. His big male was fighting him for control, and Timur remained steadfast in his authority. The last thing he needed was for his leopard to be in command.

  He heard the cough of a leopard and it sounded as if it was coming from behind them, from the room off to their left. The door was open and then he caught a glimpse of the leopard’s head as it poked around the door in an attempt to catch a sighting of the alluring female.

  Another leopard sounded off, his voice distinctly different from the cough produced by the one closer. The second leopard sounded as if he was sawing through a log with his harsher roar. Timur’s leopard went wild. No other leopard could claim his territory or his mate. Timur stripped his jeans off and shifted, embracing the change fast.

  The one thing Drake had insisted on was practicing shifting fast. They practiced all the time, and the change swept over and through him in no more than a fraction of a second. Temnyy sprang past Ashe and charged the leopard coming at him from the next room. The two cats met in the air, raking at each other’s belly and genitals. The sound of their panting breathing was loud in the room.