Ashe went for his gun. Somehow, when he’d dropped to the floor, his gun had fallen under his body. She tried to get him off of it, but three bullets hit the stove behind her, forcing her to roll away from him. She chose to roll toward the butcher block of knives. It was still sitting right where she’d positioned it, on the floor, just behind the left island.
Bullets hit the floor to the left of her, but she kept going, feeling a little desperate. She had no idea what was happening in the bathroom, whether Gorya or even Jeremiah was still alive. She didn’t really know how badly Jeremiah had been wounded. Her hand closed on a knife and she pulled it from its resting place in the butcher block.
She took a deep breath, let it out and then tossed a smaller knife toward the saucepan that lay just feet from her. Instantly bullets hit all around it. She stood and threw, all in one motion, registering her enemy even as she was straightening her body. It was instinct more than anything else that gave her such true aim. Instinct and years of practice. He went down hard, the knife protruding from his throat. She closed her eyes when she heard the gurgles that told her he was dying.
When she opened her eyes, she was looking directly at the door. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw a leopard stick its head cautiously through the doorway. She could use all the survivalist tricks in the world, but the odds were stacked in favor of a killing machine like a leopard. Even a gun … She looked toward the dead body of David. She knew exactly where his weapon was.
She recognized the leopard. This was Evangeline’s uncle Gilbert. He’d challenged Timur’s leopard for her. Ducking back into cover, heart racing, she called to her leopard. Godiva, I know you despise this leopard, but I need you to be at your most alluring. Her hands went to her jeans. She stripped fast and shifted.
Godiva shook herself and then chuffed. Deliberately, Ashe directed her toward David’s body. All the while she rubbed her scent on everything she could find, spreading her pheromones, the last stages of her heat, but no less potent or tempting as when she’d first gone into her cycle.
The male came around the island, its yellow eyes staring at her. Deep inside Godiva, Ashe shivered. She felt as if she was looking at pure evil. Her heart thudded and she had to fight to keep herself from directing Godiva to run. There was no fighting this male. He was bigger and stronger and she was very inexperienced. But she had other skills.
Godiva swished her tail and spread her tantalizing scent toward the male as she made her way to David, one sultry step at a time. The male came around the other side of the island to cut her off. Godiva swiped her paw at him but then chuffed seductively, still moving, positioning herself right in front of David’s body.
Ashe knew where the gun was. She could even see a small part of it. Godiva crouched invitingly. The male took the bait, rushing toward her. Godiva’s paw reached beneath David’s body, hooked the weapon with her claws and pulled it out. Instantly Ashe shifted partially, her entire upper body. It was sickening, and difficult to concentrate, but it was the only thing she could think of to save them both. She turned, shocked that the leopard was so close. She felt a blast of hot air, and the creature lunged.
She fired, point-blank, over and over, emptying the gun into the leopard’s brain and throat. She couldn’t stop pulling the trigger, not even when the cat was dead on the floor right in front of her.
“That wasn’t a smart move, Ashe,” Beau Tregre said from the doorway. He held a gun on her and his hand was rock steady. “Now you have no weapon. Why don’t you shift fully and come here?”
“Screw you,” she hissed, shifting. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” She looked around. Her clothes were just a few feet from her and she walked over to them and picked up her jeans.
“Where’s Evangeline?”
“I can’t believe you’re planning on killing your own daughter,” she snapped. “What kind of asshole are you?” She yanked up her jeans and glanced at him. He was staring at her breasts. Deliberately she picked up her top but didn’t put it on. Let him be fascinated while she figured out a plan.
“She’s safe. She isn’t here this morning, bad luck for you.”
Beau swore and gestured for her to walk to him. She shook her head.
“I’m going to kill you right where you stand.”
“I don’t think you are,” another voice said. Timur reached around him and took the gun from Beau’s hand. “Step inside.”
“There might be more,” Ashe warned, yanking on her shirt. She ran toward the bathroom. “Jeremiah and Gorya have been shot.”
“We’ve got medics on the way. We have to get rid of these bodies. They’re all leopard. I’ve got a crew coming right after me. Fyodor sent an army.”
Timur nudged Beau. “Where did you get your recruits?”
Beau shrugged. “Not everyone was happy to work for my nephew. It seems that Joshua can be a real hardass. He doesn’t let his men have fun anymore. They were happy to work for me.” He smirked. “A couple in Drake Donovan’s lair hate him as much as I do. I’ve got a good business. A great one. Armande Mercier will do anything I tell him, just to keep his sister safe. Rafe Cordeau and I had a deal to run opium through his pipeline. When Rafe disappeared, I went to Ulisse. Now he seems to have disappeared. I can offer you the same deal I had with them.”
“Why did Anton Lipin take a shot at me in the grove?”
Beau shrugged. He looked surer than ever because Timur hadn’t immediately rejected his offer. “I have no idea.”
Beau shrugged again. “What do you think? Let’s do business. We can double what we’re doing if we have control of the bakery as well.”
Timur shot Beau Tregre without another word. He felt nothing when he did it. Not elation, not anything at all. This man had tried to kill his own daughter. He would have eventually killed his sons for money. He was cruel, vicious and corrupt. Timur looked up at his woman standing there with her shirt in her hands. She was amazing. Amazing . And she was his.
It was Temnyy who saved his life. The cat leapt toward the surface, forcing his muscles to contort, fur bursting through skin. He toed his shoes off as he ripped at his jeans, peeling them off his legs fast. Not fast enough, but when the huge male leopard hit him, he was half leopard, half human.
The leopard hit so hard it drove him to the ground. He heard Ashe scream as if at a distance, but pain had blossomed and spread through him. Instinct had him rolling, trying to protect his neck, throat and front from the teeth and claws of the big cat. His shirt had ripped to accommodate the change, the thick fur protecting him as teeth drove for his spinal cord, but he couldn’t shake the leopard and get his legs from his jeans. It required one second, a fraction of a second, but he didn’t have that.
Godiva hit the male hard, coming in from his right side and driving him off Timur. Instantly he had the jeans gone and was able to shift completely, whirling around to face his opponent. Godiva’s momentum had taken her to the open doorway and she went right on out the door so there was nothing at all between Timur and his opponent. He’d never seen the large leopard before. It was in good fighting shape and had obviously seen battles. It was an Amur, beautiful and distinctive. He knew then he was facing Anton Lipin.
Temnyy raged, his lips drawn back, ears flat, snarling, fierce and ready to fight. He growled at his opponent, and then took a step toward him with a screaming roar of fury. The two cats stared, each waiting for the other to make a single move while they growled and spit, showing their displeasure and hatred of each other.
They launched themselves almost simultaneously, meeting in midair, trying to wrap each other up, gripping with their front legs, while their back legs sought to do the most damage possible, ripping and slicing at bellies and genitals. Anton’s leopard was every bit as vicious as Temnyy. They came down, locked together, rolling, legs tearing at each other. They hit the island, and for a moment were trapped there, big bodies bending at impossible angles, utilizing their flexible spines.
Temnyy broke away, roll
ed to his feet, leapt into the air and attacked before Anton’s leopard could climb to his feet. Gripping with his front legs, Temnyy held him fast while he sank teeth deep and ripped and tore with his hind legs. He couldn’t get a good enough hold to kill him, so he did as much damage as possible to weaken him.
The two leopards broke apart, eyed each other for a short growling session, and then Anton launched his big male into the air. Temnyy rose to meet him, slashing with razor-sharp claws at the exposed belly. It was luck more than just plain skill that allowed him to hook claws deep and rip his opponent open.
Anton’s leopard howled in pain, falling to the floor as blood instantly covered his belly. He lay on one side panting, agony forcing his human to take his place in order to spare the animal suffering.
Timur made certain there were no weapons close as he shifted back to human as well. He lifted his gaze to his woman standing in the doorway before checking out the dying man. She had to be all right. There was blood on her, but she was standing, head up, just looking across the mess that had once been an immaculate kitchen. She tossed him his jeans and he dragged them on before switching his attention to Anton. The man was in a bad way. Even if Timur wanted, he couldn’t have saved him.
Anton looked up at Timur. “You don’t know what you have. What she does. Let her come to me. Sit by me.” There was pride on his face, and in his voice, but not in his eyes. The plea was there. “She calms him. My leopard. She makes him settle. He’s never had that. Not once in all these years.”
It was that simple—or that monumental. Anton Lipin cared for his leopard, and like all leopards in the fucked-up lairs, his had been viciously abused and trained to be savage. Out for blood. Cruel. Every bad trait possible had been encouraged and brought out. In doing so, there was no rest for the human counterpart.
Timur fought for his breath as he reached a hand toward his woman. His men were pouring into the alleyway and bakery, spreading out, making certain that every threat was gone. They needed to do damage control outside, in the alleyway, making certain those shop owners who might be arriving early saw nothing that would alarm them.
Ashe went to him, compassion in her eyes as she glanced down at the man who had nearly killed Timur. Then her gaze was sliding over her man, touching on every slash, cut and rising bruise. She brushed his face with gentle fingers. His hands were on her, sliding over her, noting every drop of blood. She had a gash in her temple and another along her shoulder. There was a tear in her shirt. She was barefoot and dusted in what looked like flour. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
“Beside me,” Anton said. “Close. For him. He has needed a rest, and there was never one for him.”
Timur sank down onto the floor beside the dying man. Oddly, he identified with him. That very well could have been his fate—asking his enemy to help his leopard as they passed from the world. Like Timur, Anton had been born into that world of violence. He’d given his allegiance to the head of their lair, as they were taught almost from their first breath. He’d lived a life of pure hell, forcing his raging leopard to be among prey every minute while he lived his double life as an Interpol agent and enforcer for Lazar. He’d done his duty, just as Timur had. They’d just chosen different sides.
Ashe sank down beside him, taking his hand, but leaning toward Anton. There was no animosity on her face. She didn’t really understand—no one who hadn’t lived their life could—but she still had that compassion in her Timur had come to rely on.
“He needed you,” Anton explained. Blood bubbled around his lips. He coughed.
Timur could see his leopard staring at Ashe. He tightened his fingers around her hand. It felt small, which was deceptive, because she was a very strong woman. She reached with her other hand and laid her palm very gently on Anton’s face and stared back at the leopard. She didn’t move until the light had faded completely from his eyes. Then she turned to Timur and buried her face in his chest and wept.
He got to his feet, taking her with him, holding her close. He knew they had to clean up the evidence fast, get each of the bodies out and burned before anyone tipped off the cops. Silencers muffled sound on a gun, but didn’t entirely get rid of it. An early morning shopkeeper might have heard something. Guns or leopards, it didn’t matter. Fortunately, it was still very early and dark, so no one else appeared to be moving around the back side of the shops. So far, no one had come into the back alley.
Jack Bannaconni had sent a helicopter for the two injured men, along with medics who could work on leopards. He’d established a small, private hospital for them on property he’d purchased, and Gorya’s and Jeremiah’s would be the first two surgeries performed there.
Timur’s men swept in, rushing toward the bathroom where Ashe directed them. Timur took his time, stepping around each of those lying on the floor in the midst of what looked like bloody flour. He took Ashe with him, keeping her face pressed close. He had no idea why he was protecting her from looking at the dead bodies when she had killed them and he was very proud of her, but instinct had him doing just that.
More men poured in. These began wrapping bodies in tarps taken from vans and removed them quickly.
“You did very well, baby, but I have to see Gorya and Jeremiah. Jeremiah texted all the details, and the surgeon told him how to keep Gorya alive.” He could hear the tightness in his voice, but mostly he felt it in his heart. He loved Gorya as a brother. They’d grown up together, protecting each other from his father. They’d made pacts, taken blood vows to always have each other’s back.
Ashe looked up at him, her fingers gently touching his face. “He’s strong.”
Timur knew that about his cousin. Gorya was one of the strongest men he knew. Fyodor, Sevastyan and Mitya were all strong. They had to be in order to have survived their lairs and their fathers.
“What the hell did you do to this place?” he asked as he picked his way through the rubble that had once been a state-of-the-art kitchen. Evangeline had started with a few good necessary big items, like her ovens, but her husband had recently replaced everything with top-of-the-line ovens, refrigerators, freezer, warmers, dishwasher, anything he could give her to make her life easier. “It looks like a war zone.”
“Oh no, I left the stove on.” Ashe hurried to turn off the stove and caught up with him as he stepped into the bathroom.
The medics were working on Gorya, getting him ready for transport. His face was leeched of all color. In fact, if anything he looked gray. The floor was slick with blood. Jeremiah had blood all over him. He was awake and had two men crouched beside him, hooking him up to all kinds of lines.
“Gorya?” Timur asked abruptly.
One man glanced over his shoulder. “Touch and go. We’ve got to get him to the doc right now.” He looked at the two with Jeremiah, one eyebrow lifted.
“Get him in the bird and we’ll be right behind you,” one said. “Go.”
Timur touched Gorya’s hand as his cousin was taken out. He turned back to watch the men working on Jeremiah. The kid attempted a grin of all things.
“Your woman’s a badass, Timur,” he said. “She can’t cook worth shit, but she’s a total badass.”
Timur nodded and crouched beside the younger man, taking care to stay out of the way of the two men strapping him to the gurney. Very carefully, he removed the gun from the kid’s fist.
“Don’t ever cross her,” Jeremiah warned. “She knows more ways to kill a man than I do. Seriously, boss, don’t do it.”
“No worries, Jeremiah,” Timur assured. “I have no intention of crossing her.”
“She’s inventive when it comes to killing men.” He beckoned Timur closer and waited for him to bend down. He looked left and right to make certain no one would overhear him. “You’re so lucky, man. She’s a total babe,” he whispered. “She’s a man killer, and that’s hot as hell.”
Timur looked up to meet Ashe’s eyes. His stomach dropped the way it always did when he looked at her. All th
ose strange somersaults. She smiled at him, making it worse. She might not be able to bake him cookies, or cook his dinner, but he didn’t give a damn. She was perfect.
20
TIMUR stared out the window into the night. Every breath he drew into his lungs brought Ashe in as well. She lay facedown, sprawled out on the bed, her favorite position. She looked like a star with her arms wide and her legs spread apart. Her head was turned toward him, but her eyes were closed. She had that beautiful sated look he was coming to know on her face.
He loved the way she looked at him, especially when he made love to her. She always looked a little shocked when an orgasm swept through her. Every time. She also looked at him as if he were the best man in the world. How that happened, he didn’t know, especially when he brought her nothing but danger. He was determined to spend the rest of his life making certain that look never turned to disappointment.
He sighed. She was a warrior. She wasn’t going to ever sit at home with a dozen kids, happy to never know what he was up to. She would insist on knowing. The moment she thought there was danger, she would lock their children in a safe room and go on the offensive.
She’d defeated three of Rafe Cordeau’s leopard soldiers. They were men with terrible reputations, men who enjoyed using their leopards to hunt humans in the swamp, mostly prostitutes, but occasionally an enemy of their boss. Beau had recruited them when Rafe was killed, knowing their proclivities, allowing them occasionally to continue by using the girls he got from Ulisse.
His woman, Ashe Bronte Mostafa, had kicked their asses. She’d used weapons she had available to her, leaving Jeremiah armed so he could hold off anyone who got past her. Ashe had done that. She’d made her decisions quickly and she’d been efficient. The entire battle hadn’t lasted a full five minutes. She’d noted the time. That meant she’d made four kills in under five minutes. One had been in leopard form.
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