Leopard's Rage (Leopard People)

by Christine Feehan

Without warning the leopard attacked, moved so fast he was a blur, just a streak of spots, and there was a terrible crunch and more flashing pain as the leopard bit through the bone of his right back leg. Diktator howled. The leopard retreated, once more circling, staying just out of reach, looking as if Rolan’s leopard was nothing at all and Rolan no more than the lowest creature inhabiting the earth. Rolan wanted to scream at him, to tell him differently, but he didn’t dare.

  Minutes later, three more leopards joined Diktator. One was a powerful Persian leopard, the other two were Amur leopards. They paced back and forth, circling Diktator. Another two minutes, and there was no mistaking Shturm, Sevastyan’s leopard. Rolan’s heart sank. He should have known the reason the leopard hadn’t come in for the kill.

  Conrad had tried to warn him a dozen times against coming to the States. He’d told him to leave it alone, that Mitya and Sevastyan were long gone and weren’t coming back. Even after Lazar had been killed by Mitya and Sevastyan, the betrayal had eaten away at Rolan until he couldn’t think of anything else. He wanted Lazar’s sons dead. He needed them dead.

  Shturm trotted up to the other leopards and all of them looked in the direction of the trucks. It was clear Oliver was dead. Most likely, everyone was dead. He’d failed all around. Rolan was weary. Diktator was weary. He let Sevastyan come to him. There were ways. There were always ways. He could act conciliatory. Pretend he wanted to talk. He shifted, just partially, his head, luring Sevastyan in. Making him vulnerable. That was all Diktator would need.

  Shturm stepped close. Rolan’s heart accelerated. He could see Sevastyan’s eyes looking back at him. He was going to shift. He told Diktator to be ready, to go for Sevastyan’s throat, his most vulnerable place, if he shifted only partially so they could talk.

  “Lazar did us all such a disservice, teaching us such hatred,” he began, watching. Feeling triumphant. Gleeful.

  Shturm leaned in before Rolan could shift back, put his jaws around the man’s head and bit down hard, crushing the skull as if it was no more than an eggshell. He pulled back and looked down at the leopard with contempt before delivering a second bite to the throat. He turned and followed the other leopards to the transports and the drivers.

  Sevastyan was going to help with dispatching them and then he would leave the mop-up to his security force so he could get to Flambé and make certain she and Flamme were all right. He had no idea what was going on with her, since she wouldn’t answer him and he couldn’t send Kirill and Matvei up to the master bedroom to check on her. But the sense of urgency was riding him hard.

  16

  FROM very far away, Flambé heard voices talking in hushed tones. Strong arms lifted her, turned her. She cried out when pain burst through her. Sevastyan’s voice soothed her when nothing else could. His tone was like a velvet cloth stroking a cool liquid over the burning flames consuming her skin.

  “It’s all right, baby. The doc is here.” The words penetrated but they didn’t make sense to her. He rocked her. Something sharp stuck her arm. She wanted to tell them she couldn’t bleed anymore or she would die. The bleeding would just go on forever but maybe that was the best way to go. She would just quietly slip away.

  “No, you’re not going to escape me, not by dying, malen’koye plamya. Let’s see what the doc can do to make this better for you. At least make you comfortable.” Cool lips brushed her eyelids.

  How could she be comfortable when her leopard could never emerge? It was agony to feel the sexual hunger, the terrible craving and burning through the nerve endings that were too raw and sensitive, so much so that she couldn’t handle the change. What shifter failed her leopard like that?

  “She will come out, Flambé,” that steady voice replied. So certain. Strong. No doubts. So Sevastyan. She could always count on him whether she liked it or not. Right now, she had no choice. She was a mess. She was weak. Blind. Her body shaking uncontrollably.

  “We will find a way to keep you from hurting so much.” His hand moved in her hair, stroking back the damp mass from her forehead.

  “Get her in the shower. Get the blood off her and then get her into the tub.” That was another male voice. Very authoritative. “She nearly tore her own skin off trying to get her leopard out.”

  Two men in the room? That terrified her. She tried to struggle. Sevastyan was far too strong and she was in no shape to do anything but whimper when her raw skin pushed too hard against his.

  “The doctor is here, Flambé. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t get into the shower, even if the other man was a doctor. Didn’t he understand what that would do to her? The moment the water hit her skin, those drops on her already raw nerve endings would be agony. She wouldn’t be able to stand it. She’d go completely insane.

  “We have to get the blood off you, baby. The moment I do, we’ll put you in the bath. There’s a compound in the water that will help to ease the sensations you’re feeling. He gave you a shot that will help as well. I know this will be bad, but only for a moment, and I’ll use the gentle rain setting. Hold on to me. Breathe with me. I’ll get you through it.”

  She shook her head wildly. “Not gentle.” She could barely get the words out. Any light sensation was far worse. It caused terrible burning and painful jabbing through her body.

  “I understand. Firm hold, hard rain. That’s why you like the rope.”

  Sevastyan wasn’t giving her a choice. She was going to have to go under the water. She buried her face against his chest as he carried her, and his arms were tight. Although the idea of a shower was terrifying, and she’d made up her mind that Sevastyan was evil and cruel like all men, she took comfort in his presence. He was strong, solid and completely confident. She could rely on him.

  Flambé could barely get her mind to work, but she was shocked that Sevastyan had brought a doctor to the house. She had never imagined that he would care that much. She could hear them still talking to each other as Sevastyan tested the water to make certain it was the proper temperature.

  “She has a very rare genetic condition. There isn’t a lot of research associated with it because so few have it, and research dollars, as you know, Sevastyan, are a numbers game. I imagine there are others of her species who have the same condition.”

  “Is it associated with being a hemophiliac?” Sevastyan asked. He put his lips against her ear. “Breathe, baby. I’m right here with you. Count in your head. This will only take two minutes. I’m going to lower your feet to the floor, but I won’t let you fall.”

  She tried not to tense up. She wanted to hear the conversation. They were talking about her. Not just her. Other strawberry leopards. Sevastyan kept one arm around her as he allowed her feet to drop to the floor. She was dizzy, swaying. Her stomach protested. Lurched with the need to vomit. She tried to concentrate on the conversation.

  “No, although, in this instance, both are genetic.”

  The moment the water hit her skin she forgot all about listening and heard herself scream. A thousand knives stabbed point first deep into her body, causing an indescribable agony, but along with that, white-hot flames burned along every nerve ending, sending conflicting messages through her. Her breath slammed out of her lungs as Sevastyan used a handheld sprayer to remove the blood that had seeped from her pores and coated her body. The tears she’d made in her skin where she’d torn strips off with her own fingernails when the pain was too severe and her leopard had been so desperate were on fire all over again.

  “Stop, stop, you have to stop.” She wasn’t above begging. Tears burned in her eyes and she didn’t care that he saw.

  “Almost over, baby, I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” It didn’t matter that he sounded soft and soothing, or that he wanted to hold her close and rock her.

  She didn’t know what to feel. How to feel. Her body was insane. “I can’t take this. I really can’t. I can’t do this anymore, Sevastyan.” She couldn’t. He didn’t
understand what it was like to be trapped in such an ugly cycle.

  He turned off the water and lifted her again, his arms strong and tight. She hadn’t managed to open her eyes and she didn’t want to. She was too humiliated, afraid she was everything Mitya had implied. She was in agony and yet her body was desperate for sex. Burning. She couldn’t stop sobbing and she didn’t care that there were witnesses.

  “Statistics show most are lost to suicide,” the other voice said. “No one can stay in that state for so long and survive. It’s so much worse for a shifter, particularly a female in a heat.”

  “Well, that’s not happening to her,” Sevastyan declared, as if by his decree, she would obey. He sounded fierce.

  He sank into the bath water, Flambé cradled in his arms as if she meant something to him. She felt as if she did when she was this close to him. It was so strange how he could make her feel that way, especially after being in the ropes. That was when he held her the tightest, the way the ropes did, locked to him, the pressure firm, not at all light, aggravating the sensation in her nerves. She braced herself as the water closed over her body, almost to her neck. Instead of hurting her, there seemed to be a soothing quality to it.

  She tipped her face up and did her best to open her eyes, although that hurt even to make that small move.

  “Don’t, Flambé. You need to rest up. There is no stopping Flamme. You can’t trap her in your body. She needs to emerge.”

  The moment Sevastyan told her the truth she’d known all along, she panicked. She had done her best to help Flamme, but in the end, the pain was too great and her leopard had backed off to spare her.

  “It will kill both of us. It would be kinder to just euthanize us like they do animals.” She said it to the doctor. “I tried. I couldn’t stand the pain. I’m really tough, but I couldn’t do it, not even for her.”

  Her fingernails dug into Sevastyan’s arm. She didn’t want to start crying again. It seemed as if she’d been crying for hours. Her head hurt, but that was because her skull felt too big, pushing and pushing, just like her jaw. Everything ached. Every joint. Every muscle. How did women do this? How did any shifter do it?

  “No one is going to euthanize you, Flambé,” Sevastyan said. His soothing voice was gone and his firm, commanding tone was very much in evidence. “Just relax and rest. I’m here, the doctor is going to give us both instructions and we’re going to get you through this. He does need you to answer a few questions. They’re very important and we might not have a lot of time. Try to concentrate, baby.” One hand began to massage her scalp.

  “Did you try the shots to help you with clotting?”

  Flambé turned her head toward the voice. She managed to pry her eyes open enough to see a man sitting across the room staring at a computer screen, not at her. The lights were off in the room, which helped considerably. “No, my father said they wouldn’t work. My mother had tried something like that and they didn’t work for her.”

  The doctor frowned and glanced up, shook his head and then typed more. “That was over twenty years ago. I think your father was wrong. I think you and any other strawberry leopards with this problem need to be tested and put on the shots if they are appropriate as soon as possible. I’ve given you pills to help with clotting now, and one shot. What are you taking?”

  “Iron.”

  “Have you heard of gene therapy?”

  “No.”

  “Simplified, we introduce a virus into your system, not the kind of virus that makes you sick, but one that introduces a copy of the gene that encodes for the clotting factor you’re missing. The hope would be that if it works for you, your body would begin producing your own clotting factor normally. I’d like you to provide me with a list of your clients who are hemophiliacs so we can get them into treatment as soon as possible.”

  “That can wait until we get Flambé through her heat, Doc. The most important person to me is her. I don’t like that she’s so fucking miserable and in pain.”

  Flambé was a little shocked at the intensity in Sevastyan’s voice. She flicked her gaze up quickly to look at the strong line of his jaw. That was the best she could do. Even her eyelashes seemed to hurt, although the water was definitely soothing on her skin. The heat helped her sore muscles. Whatever was in the water brought some semblance of peace to her burning sex. She wanted to stay there forever, locked in the safety of Sevastyan’s arms surrounded by that hot, soothing water.

  “We’ll get her through the heat.”

  “And I don’t want her pregnant. She’d not dying in childbirth. Until you get this bleeding thing under control permanently, and you can tell me she’s safe, she’s not going to have a baby. Hell, I’m wrapping her up in Bubble Wrap.”

  “Her leopard is in heat. Their cycles are in sync, Sevastyan,” the doctor said, his tone mild as he stared straight ahead at the monitor. “That’s why her leopard is emerging. Birth control doesn’t work on female leopards. She may or may not get pregnant. I’ve told you that already. There’s nothing you can do about that.”

  “I’d rather give her up than let something happen to her.”

  Flambé felt Sevastyan’s chin drop to the top of her head, nuzzling her there until strands of her hair were tangled in the shadow along his jaw. She closed her eyes against her reaction to the idea of Sevastyan voluntarily giving her up. It was ludicrous and so very silly of her to vacillate back and forth, but she wanted him to want her the way she wanted him.

  “Before you ask, condoms don’t work with your kind of sex,” the doc said. “You’d break them most of the time. We’ll just have to work fast to get her blood to clot.”

  “We won’t have sex,” Sevastyan declared. “I can live without it until you say it’s safe for her. I’m not losing her. I don’t have anything without her, doc. Nothing that means a damn thing, so figure this out.”

  “She’s in heat, Sevastyan, you’re going to have to have sex.” The doctor didn’t even look up. “Flambé, had the burning sensations been increasing prior to you noticing your leopard beginning to show herself or were they staying the same?”

  She had to pull her mind back to the questions the doctor was asking and off of Sevastyan’s declarations. She wanted to hold those to her, listen over and over to his tone, his voice, study the words, the way he said each one of them. She forced herself to think about the doctor’s questions. “It was pretty much the same.”

  “The sensations weren’t just in your vaginal region, but all over your body?”

  “All over.” She curled deeper into Sevastyan’s arms.

  “Interesting. This is a much rarer form of persistent genital arousal disorder. I’ve only seen this before in a few other shifters. As I said, it’s genetic. The nerves in your body form pathways and send signals to your brain. Harder pressure feels better than soft?”

  “Yes. If someone touches me when I’m like that, it burns so bad I can’t stand it. The tighter or harder the pressure, the better the feeling.”

  In spite of being in the soothing water, a wave of itching burned across her skin. Her breath caught in her throat. She recognized immediately what was going to happen. Throughout the night, the pattern had repeated itself until she had clawed at her own skin to try to remove it in an effort to allow her leopard freedom.

  “Sevastyan.” There was despair. Fear. No hiding it from him.

  “Her leopard is rising, Doc,” Sevastyan said, surging to his feet, Flambé cradled to his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. Water poured off both of them.

  The doctor closed his laptop and pointed toward a large bottle of lotion. “Rub that all over her. Rub it on your penis. That will help her with the burning sensations. You can get her through this, just remember everything I told you. The minute you get her back here, repeat all the same steps I’ve given to you. The pills, the shower, the bath, the lotion. Every time.” He lifted his hand as he started out of the room. “I’ll want to see her the minute you get her through this heat cycle so
we can start working on the clotting problem.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Sevastyan said as the doctor left them alone.

  Flambé had to hold on to the post of their bed to keep from falling when he set her on her feet. He patted her dry with a towel before he began to rub the lotion into her skin. He used firm, strong strokes, massaging it in. She expected the feel of his fingers on her coupled with the lotion itself to burn, but it actually felt good against the growing heat in her body. Deep inside her, a volcano was forming. Hot magma pooled all over again, welling up and spreading, to burn through her veins in a slow scorching well of fire.

  “Sevastyan.” His name came out a breathy moan. A plea for understanding. “I can’t go through that again. I tried. I did everything I could. I couldn’t even get down the stairs.”

  “I know you did, baby. I came upstairs and saw the smears of blood first thing when I walked through the door. My heart just about stopped. There was blood everywhere. For a minute, I thought you were dead.”

  His voice had gone strictly neutral. She couldn’t help looking up at his face. It didn’t do her any good. He was wearing his unreadable mask. In some ways that was a comfort. Sevastyan wore that mask when he became that man—the one she’d first seen at the club—the one who would insist on his way no matter what. She would need that man if she was really going to help Flamme emerge because she didn’t think she had the courage to face that kind of agony again.

  “According to Ania, the emergence is uncomfortable the first time for both you and your leopard. You’re in a highly sexual state. It isn’t just part of your condition, it really is a part of the emergence. I’m here with you. I can help you with that and Doc says this lotion will help with your nerve endings so they don’t burn quite as much.”

  “What if I can’t do it?” There was apprehension in her voice.

  Sevastyan ignored her question. “I’ve sent everyone home. We’re the only ones here. We’re going to go downstairs and let Flamme come to the surface. Once she’s out, she can run free with Shturm so they can have their time together. When they come back, we’ll go through the steps the doctor gave us so when the next wave comes, we’ll be ready.” He spoke very matter-of-factly. Completely confident, as if there was no question that she could shift.