Leopard's Fury

by Christine Feehan

  "I need you to look at me."

  For some reason, that low voice, so velvet soft, brushed over her skin like fingers. The commanding tone found its way inside of her. Deep. She felt herself go damp. She didn't understand how he could do that, make her entire body come alive. Be aware of him. She didn't want to feel so much for him, but she did. There was no hiding from it, not and be true to herself. She was a woman who faced the truth.

  Evangeline lifted her gaze to his. At once she felt herself drowning. Caught. Captive. There was no looking away from either the man or the leopard. Both stared back at her, wholly focused on her. A shiver went down her spine. In that moment she couldn't decide if she was prey or under his protection. Maybe both. She wanted to be both.

  "You're mine, Evangeline. For you, that's both good and bad. You never have to worry again about anyone leaving you. That's never going to happen. I'll stand in front of you every time. You won't be alone and you won't ever have to face anything alone. Sometimes you won't like that trait in me, but I can't help who I am. I want you to remember that just as I'll remember you can only be who you are."

  She wasn't certain she could get to the point that she believed he'd stay with her. That was the terrible part. She had committed to him. She had chosen him. She was here in his home with his steel doors and bars. She didn't even know if he'd let her walk out or if she was his prisoner. She only knew she had to be with him. She was obsessed with him. She thought about him night and day. And no one was going to take his life. Not without a fight from her.

  He leaned into her, cupping her face with his hands. His fingertips bit into her scalp. "Your bakery is safe, solnyshko moyo. You are safe in my hands. You have to learn to trust me."

  "I do trust you." She took a breath, knowing she couldn't be anything but honest. "Some of the time. You scare me. What you do. Who you are. What you are."

  He bent his head until his forehead rested against hers. "I can't change my past. I can't be anything but what they made me."

  "That's not true." She glared at him. "Don' say that. Don' even think it. You aren't a natural-born killer. You're not a sociopath, no matter that they tried to shape you into one."

  He sighed and straightened. "I don't want you to live with me and not know who I am. What I'm capable of. I've killed. Many times. I've hurt people. Beat them. I was an enforcer for my father. I followed orders. I can put all emotion aside and do whatever is necessary."

  "Do you like it?" Her voice trembled. She needed his answer. She needed to know if he was what he said, or what she saw in him.

  "Killing? No. Fighting. Yes."

  Her heart jumped. He was telling her the truth. "You like to fight?"

  He brushed back her hair with gentle fingers. "I'm not civilized, woman. I made that clear to you. I've inflicted pain on others nearly my entire life. I've had pain inflicted on me until I rose up and put a stop to it."

  "When you killed your father and the others."

  He shook his head. "Long before that. I beat the crap out of him when he was trying to beat me with a whip. I'd had enough. I grabbed the tails of his whip and yanked him into me hard. Then I let him know what it felt like being on the receiving end. I'm a big man and I'm strong. I trained every single day to fight. To kill. He didn't stand a chance."

  She heard the satisfaction in his voice, and she didn't blame him. "If I make out a grocery list, will someone get the groceries for me? I get tired walkin' around too much. I'm so much better, I can't really complain, but walkin' around in a grocery store is out for now." She was secretly a little bit glad about that.

  His eyes widened at the abrupt switch in subject, but he only nodded. "Anything you want, malyutka, write down and I'll make certain you get it."

  "Is my car here?"

  He went very still. Those golden eyes moved broodingly over her face. "It's here." His voice was noncommittal. "Locked in the garage with the other cars."

  She ignored the obvious warning. "Good. I was worried that if I left it at my house or the bakery, some crazy person would decide to put a bomb in it. I can't really afford another car, and I like the one I've got."

  "I'm going to kiss you and you're going to let me."

  She had no problem with him kissing her. The moment she laid eyes on him, she wanted to kiss him. She loved kissing him. That was a bit intriguing in itself. She wasn't someone to give her body to another, yet she definitely fantasized, over the last year, about having wild, uninhibited sex with Alonzo.

  She swallowed her trepidation. "Okay." Softly. A whisper. An invitation.

  He took her mouth. Hot. Hard. Not at all like he'd kissed before. This was all about a leopard shifter showing his mate whom she belonged to. His hand bunched in her hair and held her still for him while he consumed her. While he poured domination down her throat. She couldn't help the shiver of excitement, or the way her body reacted to his possession. Her nipples peaked, rubbed against his chest, her breasts felt swollen and achy, her channel grew hot and clenched in need.

  She melted under his mouth, holding nothing back because he demanded everything. He made it clear he would take nothing less, and she gave herself up to him. When he lifted his head, his eyes glowing, his face stamped with possession, she tilted her head and leaned close, in spite of the tight hold he had on her hair, in spite of the bite of pain at her scalp.

  She brushed her lips over his. "Okay," she said again. This time she was agreeing to more than a kiss. This time she was saying, yes, she was his and she liked it that way.

  He regarded her for a long time. "Okay," he agreed. "You need to rest."

  "I need to make a grocery list. I'm goin' to make you dinner tonight."

  "Not tonight. Tonight I have to go out, and I want you resting. I've already arranged for your dinner. Sevastyan and one of the new men, Kyanite Boston. We call him Kye. They have orders to lock up the house and to keep everyone out. You'll be safe."

  She shook her head. "If you aren't goin' to be here tonight, then I think I should go back home."

  "No." His voice was implacable.

  "I'm uncomfortable around men. I don' want to be alone with them." She made her confession softly, one hand fisting in and then running up and down the front of his immaculate shirt. "I'll just come back when you're home."

  "I said no. I nearly lost you, I'm not taking chances with your life again." He caught her hand, dragged it to his mouth and bit down hard on the pad. "Absolutely no."

  "Did you hear anythin' I said to you?"

  "The answer is still no. I'm sorry you don't like it but I'm not willing to compromise or lose this argument, not when it comes to matters of your safety."

  "I wasn't aware we were arguin'," she said. "I was tryin' to express the fact that I'm uncomfortable with other people. Men especially."

  He stood up and reached down for her, drawing her up by her hand. "We aren't arguing. That was me telling you what you were going to do, which is wait here in this house for me to return. You're going back to bed in the master suite and you'll rest like the doctor told you."

  "You're gettin' bossy."

  "I have to be bossy while I can. Once you're at full strength, I doubt too many things are going to go my way. But this one . . ." He trailed off and tugged so that she followed him.

  "I like this house, Fyodor, but you don' actually live in it. Are you goin' to keep it, or what?"

  "Depends on where you want to live."

  Her breath caught in her throat. "What does that mean?"

  "You committed to me."

  "Yes." She was cautious.

  "I want you living with me."

  "That's a little fast."

  "A year isn't fast. You've been mine since the day I walked into the bakery and you know it. I'm not wasting any more time. You want to keep your house, then we can live there. We can go back and forth. We can accept Siena's generous offer and live here. You tell me what you want and that's what we'll do."

  He might not think it was fast, b
ut moving in with him was the last thing she'd expected.

  "We haven't even . . ." She trailed off. "I'm not experienced, honey. You don' know if we suit in bed."

  "We suit."

  She tipped her head back to look at him. He was staring down at her with golden eyes. Just the way his gaze moved possessively over her sent heat rushing through her veins. He was probably right. At least he suited her. She wasn't going to argue. In any case, they'd know soon enough.

  12

  "THIS place can't be traced back to us?" Alonzo asked Gorya as they moved together down the narrow corridor, avoiding tripping on the old bricks scattered everywhere.

  "No. It belongs to the Dean estate and has been empty for years. He was a slum lord and his children aren't much better. The best part of it is, it's right smack in the middle of Deadmen territory. Our undercover officer infiltrated them a couple of years back and took down key members of the gang. They hate him with a passion. If his blood and/or body are discovered here, the gang will be prime suspects. They made enough threats and two attempts."

  "You found the money trail? On all three of them?"

  Gorya nodded, hurrying to keep up with his cousin's long stride. "The dispatcher and cop were easy. Both are greedy sons of bitches. The security guard's name is Aaron Alderman. He's out of Chicago. We caught him at the airport, and he's no security guard." Gorya sent him a grim smirk. "I think he thought we were soft out here."

  "Wait until he meets my leopard." Alonzo yanked open the heavy door to the old kitchen. The building had once been a mental hospital, the patients gone for over two decades. The intention had been to tear it down and put up apartment buildings, but the owner had never bothered. The sprawling building had been condemned. Ceilings sagged and mold grew. Graffiti and used needles were everywhere. More than one dead body had been found on the premises over the years, and the notorious Deadmen, one of the bloodiest gangs in all of Texas, were known to claim the property, which might have been the reason the family did nothing with it.

  The scent of blood and urine hit Alonzo as he strode into the room. The smells were familiar to him. He'd been raised on them. His mind instantly shut down the way it always did so that he felt absolutely nothing. Not anger. Not compassion. There was a job to be done, and he was very, very good at his job.

  "Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted, his voice low. He never raised it. His father had liked to intimidate by shouting. Alonzo had learned that kind of energy could be dangerous and there was no need to expend it. If he showed rage, his leopard felt it tenfold and his leopard was dangerous most times, let alone when he felt Alonzo was angry or hurt. "I trust my brother has taken good care of you."

  He walked right up to Crispin Phillips, caught him by his hair and yanked his head up. Phillips squealed, blinking rapidly over and over, his breath coming in ragged bleating gasps, mouth open wide.

  "I really hate dirty cops, especially stupid ones. You didn't even try to hide the money." He dropped the undercover cop's head and turned to the hit man. "And you. Taking a contract on me, that wasn't your best decision."

  Aaron Alderman managed a shake of his head. "Not you. The woman."

  Everything in Alonzo stilled. The woman. He heard it, but it took a moment to process because he totally rejected the idea. A hit on Evangeline? Who would put out a hit on his woman? Had his uncles found him? It would be like the bastards to go after Evangeline instead of him.

  He peeled off his gloves, closed his fingers one by one into a tight fist. He pushed his knuckles close to Alderman. "You see that? You know that symbol?"

  Alderman's face paled. His eyes went wide. He'd seen that symbol before, the one tattooed on Alonzo's fingers, just below his knuckles. His brother and cousins had that same tattoo, the one that took all four fingers to create the Amur leopard crouched and waiting for a kill. That and a symbol of brotherhood. Their territory in Russia was fiercely guarded, undeniably wealthy and successful. Mostly, it had a reputation for being bloody, cruel and brutal. That symbol, while not known to be representative of an actual shifter, was known throughout the world and feared as being Bratya.

  "What?" Crispin screamed. "What do you see?"

  Alonzo pulled on his gloves. "This woman you tried to kill, she belongs to me," he informed the hit man in a low, almost casual tone.

  Alderman shook his head. "It was a job. Business. I didn't know who she was."

  "I'm going to make you an offer. Just once. You know who I am. You know my reputation. I want to know who put out the contract. No negotiations. You're going to die. You know that. But how you're going to die is up to you. You can take a long time and suffer, or it can be fast with no pain. Choose now."

  Crispin's bleating noises began again in earnest. He wept, the sounds loud. The dispatcher's bladder let go. He struggled against the chains he was hooked to, his toes barely touching the floor. Alonzo didn't look at him. All of his attention was on the hit man.

  Alderman nodded. "Amodeo. The bastard had a real hard-on for her. Wanted it done immediately and to keep going until it was finished."

  "You the only one? Exclusive?"

  "As far as I know, but he's got a rep for dirty dealing. My boss owed him a favor and I drew the short straw. I hope you get the son of a bitch."

  "I'll get him," Alonzo said. He drew his gun, keeping his body between the hit man and his weapon so Alderman would never see it coming. He turned and fired in one motion, putting a bullet squarely between the eyes. He died instantly.

  Alonzo turned his attention to the dispatcher. "You kept the 911 calls about the shooting at the bakery from going through, didn't you?"

  The man moaned and rocked, his eyes bouncing all over the place in stark fear. There was no mercy in Alonzo, not one ounce. Not since he'd learned the target had been Evangeline and not him. Fucking dirtbags.

  "You're supposed to be the good guys," he reminded softly. "Are you on Amodeo's payroll?"

  The dispatcher shook his head. "You made a mistake. A terrible mistake."

  "I can hear lies," Alonzo said. "I can smell them. You're lying. Even now, when it might give you an easy death, you're lying to me." He turned to the cop. "What about you? Do you want to lie too?"

  "You don't understand," Phillips said, tears streaming down his face. "He threatened me. Threatened to kill me. I had no choice."

  "So all that money we found in your account is just a coincidence."

  "He planted it."

  Alonzo shook his head. Patrizio Amodeo might force cooperation by threatening to kill someone as well as their entire family, but he would never part with money unnecessarily.

  "Have you ever heard of shifters?" He pulled his gloves off. Flexed his fingers. Carefully he shrugged out of his jacket, handed it to Gorya and began to unbutton his shirt. "Specifically, leopard shifters?"

  Both men stared at him. Timur reached out and took the shirt, folding it with meticulous care. The prisoners' eyes widened in shock. Alonzo had almost forgotten the scars crisscrossing his chest and sinking low into his trousers. His hands dropped to his belt.

  "In Russia, we have a rare leopard called the Amur leopard. There are very, very few of them left. The fur on these leopards is thick and long to adapt to the snow. The rosettes are wider spaced and larger than other leopards'. What's important for you to know, what I think you'll find the most interesting, is that they have denticles on their tongues." His hands paused on his belt buckle. "Timur, perhaps you would like to explain to these uneducated men just what denticles are and what they're used for."

  Timur pulled off his gloves slowly and nodded. "Denticles are hooks or tiny rasps on the Amur leopard's tongue. They are used to scrape the meat right off the bones of their prey."

  Both men stared at Alonzo and Timur with rapt attention. Timur looked at his hands and thrust them out toward the prisoners. "The Amur leopard has fur growing on the bottom of its paws to keep them warm. Claws are retractable." As he spoke his hand distorted. The knuckles cracked audibly.
Fingers bent. Stiletto-sharp hooked claws sprang out, each attached by a ligament to the bone at the tip of toes.

  Crispin screamed. The dispatcher's eyes rolled back in his head and he clearly fainted.

  Alonzo leaned into the undercover cop. "You tried to kill my woman twice, you bastard. And all leopards can hear lies." With that he shifted, his upper torso and head along with both arms and hands. Hot breath blasted the cop's face as the leopard opened his mouth to show his teeth. All four canines were large and curved, with a space behind each to allow the leopard to sink his teeth as deep as possible during a killing bite. Leopard canines were stronger and longer as well as more cylindrical than those of dogs. They had to be when teeth hit bone. Molars could shear through skin and muscle like the blade of a knife.

  Alonzo made certain his leopard showed every tooth to advantage, but he kept a firm grip on his cat. He never allowed the animal to eat human flesh and now was no different. Hot breath hit Crispin's face as his eyes went wide with shock. His mouth formed a perfect O in a soundless scream.

  "I think you should rethink what you just said," Timur said softly, inspecting his claws. He suddenly ripped the hooked nails down Phillips's chest as if he couldn't quite contain his rage, or his leopard.

  Alonzo's leopard snarled. Huffed out another blast of hot air onto the dirty cop's face. Crispin Phillips squeezed his eyes shut tight. "I've been taking his money for years. Since I first was in the academy. He wants her dead. He blames her for all of you not accepting him into the alliance and ruining all his plans."

  Alonzo shifted back into his human form and slowly, without taking his eyes from the cop's face, closed his belt buckle and then held out his hand for his shirt. "He didn't know she was mine?"

  "No. He thought the old man wanted her. I can help you. I know everything about his business. Everything."

  Alonzo just stared at him with ice-cold eyes. "He won't live out this night, so it doesn't really matter what you know."

  "I didn't know she was yours." Phillips tried another lie.