Leopard's Run

by Christine Feehan

  Timur remained silent. Christophe stared at him and his eyes changed color, going gold. Timur found himself staring at the man’s leopard. It was close to the surface. Very close. Either Christophe had called it close because he intended to fight his way out of the room, or he wanted the cat close just to be safe.

  “My leopard would tear yours to pieces,” Timur cautioned. “You’ve had some fighting experience, but nothing like mine. That’s the only warning you’re going to get, so keep him under control.”

  Christophe blinked and the cat had subsided. Timur didn’t believe for a moment that it had retreated far. Evangeline’s brother glanced toward the door and then back at Timur, clearly sizing him up. He sighed. “What do you want?”

  “Tell me about your father.”

  “That’s what this is about. What’s he done?”

  “You tell me.”

  “How the hell would I know? He and Uncle Gilbert are just as fucked-up as my grandfather was. I got out of the family home as soon as Ambroise was clear. I mean the day that boy was accepted into a school, I took him to get an apartment and I got a job away from the swamp. I didn’t go back except to see friends, and when Drake took over the lair, I asked him to send me anywhere and he did.”

  “Tell me about the drawings of the house. How did it come about that Ambroise drew those for you?”

  Christophe held up his finger. “Don’t you even try to implicate Ambroise in anything. If those drawings were used, it wasn’t his doing. He’s an artist. He has his head in the clouds half the time. I couldn’t come to the house and he wanted me to see how beautiful Evangeline’s home is. In fact, he even had sketched a few pictures for her to put up on the walls. He did it for me, to reassure me that she was all right.”

  “You deliberately brought up the fact that there was a discrepancy in the measurements and your brother had noticed them.”

  Christophe heaved a sigh. “Yeah. I know. He’d mentioned it in front of Pere and Uncle Gilbert. I wanted you to know. I should have kept my mouth shut, but something just didn’t sit right about them being there. Pere had no interest in Evangeline. He never had. I grew up with him, and he rarely mentioned her. Half the time I thought he’d have forgotten her existence if Ambroise and I hadn’t reminded him she needed food. Why would he suddenly take such an interest in her?”

  “You tell me what you think.”

  There was a long silence. Christophe shook his head. “Whatever he wants from her, he’s up to no good. Pere has always been the leader between the two of them. Uncle Gilbert’s bullshit move to challenge you for your mate got him in trouble.”

  “Why do you think he did that?”

  Christophe shrugged. “I gave up a long time ago trying to understand either of them. We were in survival mode. Ambroise and me. I was always afraid I’d have to kill them. I’ve answered your questions and I’ve admitted that my family is fucked-up, but you haven’t told me anything.” Belligerence crept into his voice.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything, Christophe. You’re up here in this nice room and I’m treating you with kid gloves. You could be in another room with cement floors and drains. You think about that before you decide you want to work for your sister’s husband. You think your family is fucked-up, you haven’t even begun to see what that can look like.”

  They studied each other for a long time in silence. Timur let it stretch between them. He was certain Christophe was as innocent as Ambroise. In the end, it was Evangeline’s brother who relented.

  “If you know what Uncle Gilbert and Pere were doing here the other night, I would very much like to know as well. She’s my sister. We might not have grown up together, but she’s still mine. My family.”

  Timur weighed the risks. In the end, he shrugged. Christophe was family—his family through Evangeline. If he was guilty, he’d kill him, but if he wasn’t, he’d do whatever he could for the man.

  “I suspect he’s set your sister and my brother up to be murdered. He’s running opium again as well. There’s more, but I think you get the picture.”

  Christophe swore and turned toward the door. Timur glided between the man and the exit. “That’s not how we’re going to handle it.”

  “Maybe not you, but I’ve had enough. He all but destroyed Ambroise. I’ve uncovered evidence that he murdered my mother. Or at least someone did. He’s never going to cop to it. He and Uncle Gilbert are up to no good out there. I went out to the swamp when I knew they were both in town. I smelled females. More than one. I scented blood. A lot of it. I couldn’t find bodies or live women. When I was there, no woman was ever brought to either of their homes, but I’ve been gone awhile.”

  “He’ll be brought to justice. That’s Drake Donovan’s job as leader of his lair. If he comes after Fyodor or Evangeline, that will be my job. You need to stay clean.”

  “You don’t understand what it’s like to live knowing your entire family is fucked-up. I’m afraid of what I’m going to be. I’ve got those genes. Ambroise has them. Hell, Evangeline has them. None of us should have children, that’s for damned sure.”

  “I do know what that’s like. My father and grandfather were very similar to yours. I worry about Evangeline and Ashe all the time and any children we might bring into this world. What I do know is this, Christophe: there seems to be a difference between a true mated shifter and one who chooses not to mate with the woman he’s supposed to be with. Leopards can drive their human counterparts to vicious, cruel acts, and I believe we can do the same to our leopards. They need their mate, and evidently, so do we.”

  Timur poured a drink for Christophe and handed it to him. “Take Ambroise somewhere safe for a few days. I’ll let you know when this is over. It should be very soon.”

  “Let me help.”

  “Not this time. Evangeline needs family. I can’t worry about keeping her brothers safe while I’m trying to keep her alive.”

  Christophe drank the small finger of scotch and then placed the glass carefully on the table beside the decanter. “There must be some way I can help.”

  Timur indicated the chairs on either side of the stone hearth. Christophe sat across from him, leaning toward him, determination on his face.

  “I want you to really think about what you know about your uncle Gilbert. It wasn’t a smart move for him to challenge me. He wasn’t drunk. It seemed more of an act of desperation.”

  Christophe frowned and shook his head. “I swear, I have no idea why that man would be that stupid.”

  Gilbert’s seemingly ridiculous challenge nagged at Timur in the same way Anton Lipin deviating from his orders bothered him. It was clear that Christophe couldn’t shed any light on either strange incident. He switched subjects.

  “Tell me about your father’s and uncle’s friends.”

  Christophe shook his head. “They aren’t friendly. No one goes to our home there, and other than working for Charisse and Armande, and they’re packing and sending out the boxes through the mail so they aren’t really around anyone, they have little contact with others. I know they were able to get Dion Lenoux a job with Armande in the factory. Sometimes they’ll do that, but it’s rare.”

  Timur tried to think how he could word the question to get Christophe to give an answer that he needed. “Who manages the perfume factory?”

  “Armande is in charge of everything business. He gets the accounts and oversees everything in the factory. Charisse is very picky about how things look, so Armande makes certain that every box of soap and perfumes going out looks exactly how she wants it to look. Armande oversees all of that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve known both of them for years. Charisse is different. She lives in a world of scents. She grows flowers, hybrids, you know, and comes up with all sorts of products that sell like hotcakes. She would stay in her greenhouse or the lab forever if she could. Especially since the truth about their mother came out. Her mother was involved with my grandfather and actually was as ma
d as a hatter. Seriously. She was a serial killer. Charisse just kind of disappeared into her work, and Armande took over running things.”

  “Do they need money?”

  “Not when I worked there. I was a kid when I worked there, and it wasn’t for me, but that’s how I know the workings of the factory. I also know a lot of the people who work for Charisse and Armande.”

  “If opium was being packaged in the boxes being sent out, would either or both of them know about it?”

  “No way would Charisse know unless she happened to go into the factory for some reason when they were packaging that shit. Then, knowing her, she’d probably zero in on the smell right in the middle of all those other smells. She never goes there anyway because there are too many people. She’s really isolated herself.”

  “Would Armande package opium with the perfumes and soaps and allow that to be distributed worldwide? In other words, would he be part of your father’s drug deals?”

  Christophe shook his head and then stopped. “If Charisse was threatened, then yes, he’d do whatever it took to protect her.”

  Timur stood up. “Why didn’t you ask Joshua for a job? He’s your uncle.”

  “Two reasons. I want to get to know Evangeline. Working for her husband seemed the perfect opportunity. And Joshua took over Rafe Cordeau’s territory when he disappeared. I didn’t want any part of that.”

  “I see.” He gestured toward the door. “Take Ambroise and find a safe place to hole up for a couple of days, until you get a text from Fyodor stating it’s safe to come here. We’ll talk about jobs then. Don’t ask questions and don’t jump to conclusions. Above all else, don’t talk to your father or uncle. Make yourself scarce.”

  Christophe nodded, and Timur left him to find Fyodor. It was nearly five in the morning and he’d been away from Ashe far too long. He was going through withdrawal. Besides, when he felt like shit, which he did after questioning Evangeline’s brothers, he wanted to hold her. To feel like he wasn’t covered in filth.

  Fyodor gestured toward a chair when he walked in. He closed the door behind him and gratefully sank down onto the leather. There were two bottles of ice-cold water sitting on the small end table beside the chair. He picked one up and removed the lid.

  “Both those boys are clean, Fyodor, but her father is dirty as hell along with her uncle. They’re running drugs, and I believe they’ve set her up to die so they can inherit the bakery and get insurance money. Even though you’re married, she hasn’t changed her will, and her father gets everything, especially if you happen to die as well.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Fyodor said. “First of all, he’s dead and just doesn’t know it and secondly, when we got married, we took care of all that. Even if he succeeded, he wouldn’t inherit anything from her.”

  Timur filled him in on everything Evangeline’s brothers had told him, and his own conclusions. “Lazar has his top man here. Lipin is Interpol. He’s always worked for Lazar, apparently always done everything Lazar said, yet it appears he went against orders when he took a shot at me. That bothers me, Fyodor.”

  Fyodor shook his head. “Lazar could have changed his mind and given the order to kill you. It’s possible we’re reading the situation wrong and he’d go to Joshua Tregre to try to complete his pipeline again and then he wouldn’t need us. It stands to reason that he might think, because they share a name, that Joshua would be like his uncles.”

  Timur put his feet up on an ottoman and stared into the fireplace, every muscle in his body aching. “Did you or anyone else talk to Gilbert after I left with Ashe? Ask him why he would challenge me for her?”

  “Beau got him into the car and out of here very fast. Evangeline was upset and I didn’t pursue it. I should have, Timur. That’s on me.”

  Timur pressed the bottle of water to his forehead, letting the cool drops of condensation seep into his skin. “We’re taking out Lazar’s leopards. He can’t afford to lose many. We don’t have that many in any of the lairs. He can’t see that by killing the women, we’re getting fewer and fewer replacements. He needs his leopards.”

  “He’s recruiting locally.”

  Timur shrugged. “Drake will go through that lair, and this time he won’t be so nice. He’ll do it quietly. You know Lazar isn’t going to come here himself, although it’s possible Rolan will try to usurp his position. They’re always in competition and he’ll hate the fact that Sevastyan is working as Mitya’s security. You know Lazar will throw that in Rolan’s face.”

  “We knew it was coming. We’ll have time to prepare,” Fyodor said.

  Timur could hear the weariness in his brother’s voice. “I think Christophe might be an asset to us, but he won’t come in if he thinks you’re dirty. You’d have to bring him all the way in.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at his watch. She hadn’t texted him to say her female needed his male. He would have welcomed that from her, even though he knew she needed the rest. Her body needed a few days to recover.

  “Ashe is tough as nails,” Fyodor said. “She doesn’t look it, but she is. I watch her with you, Timur, and she’s all about you. She pays attention. She’s quick. She’s a good match for you. I’m happy for you.”

  “She’s … unexpected.” Timur stretched and put his head back, to stare up at the ceiling. “She—” He broke off again. Not even to his brother could he say, She turns me inside out. He wasn’t that kind of man. He might like to read poetry and secretly write it, but no one was ever supposed to know that about him. He certainly couldn’t admit to flowery, romantic expressions when he was the man his brother counted on to destroy his enemies.

  Fyodor laughed softly. “Believe me, Timur, I understand. If I tried to explain how I felt about Evangeline, or describe her to someone else, I wouldn’t have the words either.”

  “Who knew? Who knew this would happen for us,” Timur said. He couldn’t just sit there; although he was very tired, he was feeling too much. She did that to him. He jumped up and began to pace. “She was the last thing I expected.”

  “Where is she from?”

  “That’s how small a world the leopard world really is,” Timur said. “Her father is from somewhere in Greece. Her mother was from one of our lairs. Lazar sold her mother, at fifteen, at an auction in Greece. The grandfather, Mostafa is the surname, bought her for his son. The son was supposed to use her for a while, pass her around and then send her back to Lazar. He would put her with one of his men to provide sons and then they’d kill her.”

  Fyodor sat up straight, slightly shaking his head. “Lazar had his hands on Ashe’s mother at one point? That is a small world.”

  “She’s from one of our lairs, Fyodor. I don’t know which one. It wasn’t ours.”

  “Trust Lazar to get the most use and the most money out of one of our women. Someone needs to put that man out of his misery. Hopefully, it will be one of us,” Fyodor said. “I used to think he was invincible.”

  “Maybe not invincible, but he sure as hell made a pact with the devil.”

  “How did Ashe end up here in the States?”

  “Her parents fell in love and her dad was rich enough to get them out.” Timur told Fyodor about Ashe’s parents being true mates, falling in love and escaping their mutual lairs.

  “You’d think Lazar would try to acquire Ashe to take her mother’s place as a breeder in the lair,” Fyodor said. “Why send a hit squad? The first few men were here to kill her. Lazar sent a bigger crew after us later, right?”

  Timur nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets and went to the window to look out. He loved the night. Everything about it. That stemmed from all the times he’d crawled away from his father, broken and bruised, into the sanctuary of the darkness.

  “From what I’ve gathered, Lazar and old man Mostafa had a falling-out. Mostafa had changed his mind when he heard his son was dead and wanted his granddaughter alive. Lazar got pissed and decided Mostafa wasn’t getting his hands on Ashe. Lazar would kill her first, or if he coul
d kidnap her, treat her to the same fate he’d had in mind for her mother.”

  “Evangeline’s pregnant, and there’s a part of me that worries what I’m passing down to our children. Our father. Sevastyan’s father. Rolan and Lazar. Our grandfather. Where does it end?”

  “I don’t know,” Timur said. “Christophe was just saying the same thing to me. His grandfather was, father and uncle are, cruel and vicious. Of course, we have to worry that one of our children could turn out the same way, or that we could somehow become like them.”

  “I haven’t talked to Evangeline about it, but I know there’s a part of her that’s worried as well.” Fyodor rubbed his temples as if he was getting a headache.

  “Every single shifter, male or female, who has gone mad and turned into a vicious killer has refused to be with their true mate. They don’t take care of their leopards. They deprive them and hunt with them. They allow them to crave human blood. If you mistreat your cat, eventually, you’ll feel the effects.”

  Fyodor sighed. “I know that firsthand. My leopard is still fierce and always out for blood. Evangeline has tempered him. She quiets him and if I give him a chance to run with his mate nightly, he’s much more content. I don’t feel the effects of his bad temper nearly as much as I used to. In fact, now that I’m really thinking about it, the difference is night and day. I had to install steel bars on the doors and windows to keep him from escaping while I slept. That’s how vicious he was. I’ve never once worried since I’ve been with Evangeline.”

  “It’s strange how Evangeline and Ashe both are some kind of leopard whisperer. I’ve been around the wives of the others and my leopard still raged. When I first met Evangeline, I was shocked that he settled when he was close to her. Mitya and Sevastyan and Gorya all said theirs did as well. Now if they’re close to Ashe, that happens. Don’t you think it’s strange that we’re brothers and our women both have some trait that calms other leopards?”