Rogue seemed to fold himself in half, a tornado of fur and claws and teeth raking both sides of Edik’s leopard so that long furrows of fur flew into the air, fur that should have protected the animal’s muscles. Instead, pieces of flesh hung open, as if the other leopard had carved him up on either side with sharp knives. Rogue landed easily right beside Prince, rearing up as the other leopard did, so fast he was a blur of movement, raking the underbelly and genitals viciously so that only torn flesh hung as he leapt away. Rogue returned with a powerful bite to his hind leg, snapping the bone on the left side and then crushing the bone on the right so that Prince could only lie in a pool of blood, staring at his opponent with hate-filled eyes.
Krylov cursed under his breath. Braum could only admire the efficiency, skill and speed of the leopard. Hedidn’t seem to have a weakness. Jago studied him as well, and his leopard seemed just as reluctant to face the challenge as Braum was. Neither spoke or offered the other advice. They had watched both battles closely, hoping to find anything that might give them a glimmer of hope in their coming fight with Rogue. He had defeated both challengers in seconds.
Karol was a thoughtful, methodical man, and his leopard, Duke, was much like him. He didn’t rush his attack. He didn’t try to catch Rogue off guard while he was distracted fighting another leopard. He waited and then circled around cautiously, eyeing his opponent.
Braum waited to see what Rogue would do with this new approach. Gorya’s security had formed a loose circle around them, locking them within the arena so there was no hope of escaping into the swamp. They would have to fight to the death. In any case, Gorya’s leopard was utterly fascinating. Braum had never seen an animal so fast, vicious or accurate.
As Duke circled, he continued growling a warning, the sound growing in strength as he became more and more aggressive. His head was low, eyes on his prey, teeth bared. Rogue was still, seemingly frozen in place, and then he began to pace about six feet from Duke so they were side by side, matching him step for step. For some reason, with the way Rogue moved, he seemed mesmerizing, like a ghost, almost disappearing in the tall grass.
Braum found his heart accelerating. He wanted to call out to Karol to be cautious. Gorya moved with blurring speed. His woman did. That leopard was a demon. They couldn’t be deceived by or hypnotized by Rogue’s disappearing act. The cat was silent. No challenging rumbles. That wasn’t natural.
Krylov’s leopard, Master, was a big Amur leopard. He paced close to Gorya’s security team, his malevolent gazefixed on the two challengers. He watched them carefully, as if he were trying to absorb Rogue’s every fighting technique.
Duke suddenly turned and leapt sideways at Rogue, striking out at him. As Rogue twisted with blinding speed to meet Duke in the air, Krylov directed his leopard straight at Gorya’s mate, charging at full speed, crossing the six-foot distance in one bound.
Braum’s breath caught in his throat at such treachery—at such balls. Only, the little blond was no longer there. Just a hairsbreadth from the large male cat was a creature, half woman, half leopard. Back claws dug into the dirt to give her purchase and strength as she drove a knife into Master, ripping mercilessly across his entire left side, allowing his momentum to drive the blade deep. The wound ran all the way along his side, down low, close to his belly—close to his genitals.
The woman continued to shift, flinging the knife unerringly straight toward Gedeon, who caught it. Rogue had already abandoned his attack on Duke and slammed into Master, driving him off his feet. Knowing he was dead if he didn’t get up, Master rolled desperately, trying to avoid the vicious claws raking his body and the teeth clamping down mercilessly on his right hip.
The two male leopards rolled over and over, kicking up dirt, leaves and rotting vegetation. The snarling and roaring had to be heard for miles as they fought on the ground. Rogue was enraged. Furious. He was in a murderous frenzy. He shot to his feet and began to circle Master. Methodically, he rushed in, delivering vicious blow after vicious blow, striking with precision, tearing deep lacerations in his enemy without mercy. Each time he jumped away, he delivered a contemptuous plume of dirt and leaves into his rival’s face with a sweep of his giant paw.
Duke grimaced and scowled his displeasure at Master,tail lashing as he stalked back and forth, his roaring adding to the din that was rising to the canopy of the trees surrounding the meadow. Gorya’s security didn’t take their eyes—or weapons—from him, but the leopard made no move to aid the challenger who had tried to take advantage of Rogue’s distraction to attack his mate. Braum admired Karol’s sense of honor even as he knew the shifter’s leopard didn’t have a prayer of defeating Rogue.
Krylov’s leopard tried again and again to rise, but his attempts were decidedly feebler. Finally, he lay on his heaving side, his fur matted with blood, the dirt and leaves soaked in blood, and Rogue backed off to look around him. His muzzle was streaked red. His malicious demon gaze became riveted on Duke, and a chill went down Braum’s spine.
There was no time to shout a warning. Duke hadn’t even begun his charge when Rogue took him down and delivered a suffocating killing bite to his neck. Rogue held the heavy body, shaking it once or twice before dropping it to the ground, casting Braum a malevolent look and then returning to swipe with vicious, punishing claws at the other three downed leopards.
Braum slowly eased his shoes off and removed his shirt. There was no mistaking that look from the ferocious leopard. He despised the three incapacitated leopards he hadn’t killed. Their deaths wouldn’t be quick the way Master’s had been. The way Rogue had looked at him, there was no doubt in Braum’s mind his death would be ugly as well.
Rogue ran up to the little female leopard nearly hidden by the grasses of the swamp. Head and shoulders emerging for a brief moment.
Gorya put both hands on either side of the female leopard’s muzzle. “Do me a favor, wild one, go home. Rogue and I prefer you to wait there for us.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, and the intimacy of that look broke something in Braum. She nuzzled Gorya’s throat and turned, disappearing into the swamp. At once, two of the security guards followed. Rogue turned back toward Braum. There was nothing left of that soft man. Nothing. He was all vicious killing machine. All vengeance and fury. All rage. And he was coming for Braum.
14
Goryalay on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan as he contemplated his life and wondered what the fuck he was going to do now. A lifetime of discipline seemed to be heading right out the window. Watching his woman nearly get shredded by that weasel Krylov had taken ten years off his life, butBog, how easily she had switched from her innocence to her warrior. It was a thing of beauty.
He had come home to her drenched in the blood of how many men? So many. He should feel remorse. He knew he should. There were stains on his soul. The foul coppery taste of blood would remain in his mouth for days to come. Rogue may have torn those bodies apart, but he had participated. Directed. Strategized. Been an integral part of the process. Rogue didn’t ever kill without his permission or cooperation.
What had Maya done? Had she condemned him for being a monster? He hadn’t just come back coated inblood. He had ordered the deaths of the others involved in the trafficking ring—and that included the corrupt wives. He’d expected her to look at him with fear and loathing. He wouldn’t have blamed her. He often looked at himself that way. There were times when he looked in the mirror and saw a dead man looking back. A ghost.
But Maya? His sweet, adorable Maya? She’d been up waiting for him. Her eyes clear and guileless. Gentle with compassion—for him. She didn’t speak; she simply held out her hand to him and led him into the primary bathroom. He was so damn tired he could barely stand up. The day had started long before dawn and gone on until far into the night before he was satisfied they’d rounded up all of Braum’s men and cleared out the traitors.
He had to rebuild the lair quickly with the few people he had left. They needed homes for the young children left without parents and hoped they could shape them into productive members of the lair. Fortunately, Meiling was able to read other leopards the way Maya could, and she’d found good families willing to take them in and provide loving homes. He would sort out more in the coming weeks and appoint others to help him, but all he had wanted to do was go home. At the same time, he had dreaded facing Maya.
How could she accept him after seeing the true monster in him? After seeing Rogue at his worst? They were vicious and cruel. Both of them. They had no problem with not only killing but also torturing. He had wanted to prolong Braum’s and Krylov’s deaths. After they had forced hundreds to suffer, they didn’t deserve to die quietly. How did that serve justice? But then, that made him every bit a monster, just as they were.
He went to her exhausted. Barely able to stand. Barely able to look her in the eyes, and yet she simply took his hand and led him to the primary bath without a word. This time it was her thumb rubbing along the back of his handin a small caress. Feather-light, but he felt it like a small earthquake moving through his entire body.
Without hesitation, she stepped right into the shower with him. Reaching up, she tugged his shirt from his body. He had to help because he was so much taller than she was, but when she got it free, she retained possession of it, crumpled it into her hand and tossed it out of the shower onto the floor.
He had walked into the bedroom barefoot, unwilling to bring grime from the swamp into their home, so she simply dropped her hands to the closure of his trousers. They were specially made, no zipper, no buttons, just a thick Velcro fastener to quickly rip free to shed when he was forced to shift on the run. She peeled it away, her lashes veiling her eyes as she freed his cock and balls and swept the trousers down from his narrow hips. He stepped out of them, one hand on her shoulder as if he had to steady himself.
“Turn on the shower, honey,” she instructed. “I’m going to wash you.”
He did as she said, careful to keep his body between hers and the water until he was certain the temperature wouldn’t hurt her. He liked it hot. And he wanted steam. “There isn’t any way to get me clean. I won’t be sleeping for a long, long time.”
