Artur drew his knife—the one he loved, the one with the long, gleaming blade that scared the hell out of everyone—and took two steps toward Melor. “I know you’re part of this. Where’s your brother?”
A leopard’s roar filled the night, stilling all other sounds. It was one of rage. Of challenge. The menacing sound stopped Krylov in his tracks. He looked carefully around and then at the five guards and his enforcer, the ones always shadowing him. They gripped their weapons as they peered out into the night, trying to pierce the veil of eerie fog that had crept in off the sea.
“I challenge you for leadership.” The voice was very clear. Unfamiliar. Unafraid. Extremely confident.
“Shoot the bastard dead,” Artur ordered his men. “I don’t have time for this crap. I need to know what’s happening to my crew and every one of my warehouses.” He had taken two steps toward Melor when another voice came out of the darkness.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to ignore a legitimate challenge for leadership of a lair. No true leader can afford to do such a thing and keep the respect of his men. If you try to avoid a valid challenge or cheat by having one of your men use a weapon to prevent your leopard from having to fight, that brands you a coward in the eyes of all shifters.”
A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. Gorya Amurov. Artur gripped the hilt of the knife so tight his knuckles turned white. More shadows emerged. Too many. A virtual army. Amurov hadn’t come alone. Artur recognized Fyodor, Mitya, Sevastyan and Timur. There were others he knew from his childhood. And so many more. He was surrounded. His pitiful five security guardsand lonely enforcer weren’t going to cut it. It would be suicide for them to go up against that army of grim-faced shifters. His only recourse was to meet the challenge.
He shrugged his shoulders. His leopard was in shape. Fast. A killer. The cat enjoyed killing. He’d never been defeated. He wasn’t being challenged by one of the Amurov leopards. He tossed the knife on the ground and signaled to his crew to put down their weapons. The idiots had already done so. That made him look weak, but he refused to acknowledge it to the audience. He was too aware of the rest of his people moving forward, looking on. They’d heard that roaring challenge.
Artur pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside as he toed off his shoes. Flexing his muscles so the audience could see the ripples of power on him, he dropped his hands to his trousers and unfastened the band and zipper as his challenger came striding out of the darkness.
He was still fully dressed. A big man coming out of the fog and darkness with shaggy hair and blazing eyes. Kyanite Boston. He might be older, but Artur recognized him. He looked powerful, but he’d made one huge mistake. Amateur. He wouldn’t have a chance against Czar, his leopard. Artur would end this before it got started. Artur had his trousers gone in seconds and shifted, his golden Amur leopard leaping across the thirty feet in one bound, claws extended, teeth exposed, fully expecting to rip the human shifter’s head right off.
Kyanite shifted in midair, clothes gone, his Persian leopard fully emerged. Bahadur’s powerful gray body with his thick fur, black rosettes and dense muscles met Czar in the air. Claws like stiletto hooks tore at Czar’s belly and genitals, ripping great lacerations as they slammed together and tumbled to the ground snarling.
Artur felt as if he’d been hit with a battering ram. Czar rolled over and over in an effort to get away from the tearing claws and ripping teeth to regain his feet. The Persianleopard was lightning fast. Almost a blur as it ripped and tore at Czar’s golden fur in a fury. Artur’s leopard had been in hundreds of fights over the years, but nothing like this. He’d hunted prey mainly, been set loose on humans by his shifter counterpart for sport. The other leopards he’d fought were pathetic in comparison.
Bahadur fought viciously, breaking away and returning with a roar of contempt, sinking wicked teeth into his spine and leaping away, ripping great gashes in his sides to leave him bleeding great globs of blood. Czar’s fur should have protected him from those punishing claws, but there seemed to be no defense.
No matter what he did, twisting and turning, trying every trick he knew, he couldn’t get a retaliatory strike on the challenger. The Persian leopard was slowly ripping him to pieces. It was a savage, brutal, ferocious killing. Artur realized when he was able to push past the panic and rage in Czar that it was also deliberate. Kyanite wanted him to suffer. To be humiliated. There would be no submission. No mercy. This was a fight to the death.
Czar lifted his bloody muzzle and stared malevolently at Melor. Was this because Artur had threatened the betrayer? He charged at the helpless prisoner everyone seemed to have forgotten. As fast as he was, Bahadur was faster. The cat seemed to be a whirlwind of terror. In a blur of speed, the leopard streaked between Melor and Czar so that the Amur leopard found himself facing a mouthful of teeth and those savage, relentless claws.
With no hesitation, Bahadur struck, the claws ripping open Czar’s muzzle and sweeping across his eyes, taking one out completely and scratching the other one severely. Czar howled in pain and tried to turn tail and run. Bahadur was on him, dragging him down by his back hips, vicious teeth meeting, snapping the bones of his right hind leg.
“Kye, stop playing around,” Gorya called. “We haveplanes to catch. Finish him off so we can send everyone out. We can’t be late.”
Tanja leaned close to Maya. “He’s playing around?”
Maya nodded. “He could have killed him within the first thirty seconds. He’s angry because his cousin was threatened, not to mention what Krylov did to all those women and children. Kyanite might be sweet, but he’s got a protective streak.”
Gorya watched Bahadur deliver the kill bite to Krylov. Kyanite allowed the leopard a few roars of triumph and a couple of swipes of contempt-filled dirt and leaves flung over the carcass before he took back the form. Catching his trousers and jerking them on, he nodded toward Melor. Rodion freed Melor’s hands and helped him to his feet.
Kyanite indicated the six remaining Krylov men—his five personal security guards and the enforcer. “Execute them.” There was pure steel in hisvoice.
20
Everyrainforest looked, sounded and felt different to Gorya. Each had its own beauty. The sounds of birds, hundreds of varieties, harmonized with the hum of insects and the shrieks of the howler monkeys. The flowers winding their way up tree trunks to the tall canopies above gave off a distinctive perfume.
The wildness called to Rogue. The leopard was eager for a run. Eager for his mate. He had been patient. He had put the concerns of humans first. So had Wraith, making a tremendous effort to suppress her heat so their shifters could work out their relationship and carry out the war against those committing trafficking.
“Wraith is in distress,” Maya reported, slipping her hand in his as she moved with her usual grace along the narrow trail winding through the trees. “She can’t be expected to hold out much longer, Gorya. What she’s been doing is nearly an impossible feat for any female leopard.”
He glanced down at her bent head. “This isn’t your fault, Maya. We all agreed to putting off the heat as long as possible. We’re nearly finished. Everything is in place. The moment we’ve taken down Jaoa Escabar Velentez and his organization, we’ll give Rogue and Wraith all the freedom they’ll ever want or need. That’s a promise to the three of you.” Gorya was sincere.
I admire and respect you, Wraith. I doubt any other leopard could do what you’ve done.
It is getting very difficult.
Gorya could see the very real distress in the leopard. She was squirming continually. Hot. Burning up in reality. He had to give Maya credit for the fact that she was stoic, not letting on that her leopard clawed and raked to emerge. That burning had to affect Maya as much as it did Wraith, yet she had closed her eyes on the plane and was still, curled up in her chair beside him.
I should have checked in on you.Gorya meant both. Woman and leopard.
The lush vegetation thickened around them. Light streaked in ribbons through the canopy to highlight the ferns, seedlings and saplings on the mushroom-and-debris-covered floor. Millions of insects kept the leaves moving so the ground beneath their feet resembled a living carpet.
