Leopard's Wrath (Leopard People 11)

Annalise had looked frightened. More than frightened. Terrified. Ania had reacted quickly, without giving her company a thought. When they reached the hall leading to the master bedroom, Mitya heard the chilling sounds coming from the room. He knew immediately what was happening.

“Ania.” He tried to stop her, but he’d been hanging back so she wouldn’t realize they were right behind her.

Sevastyan increased his speed as well. The two sprinted down the hall and were just able to leap into the bedroom before Ania slammed the door closed and shot multiple bolts. Her eyes were wide with fear. Both could smell it coming off her in waves, but she approached the bed and the contorting man in it.

“Dad. Look at me. I’m here with you.”

The man was very far gone. When he swung his head around toward Ania, it was a leopard staring at her. As if that weren’t bad enough, the leopard was crazed, in a frenzy of rage, desperate to escape the pain the dying man was in.

Mitya caught Ania by the shoulder and thrust her behind him. She didn’t want to go, using her strength to try to get around him.

“Get out of here,” she hissed.

Sevastyan caught her by the shoulders. “Hush. You’ll trigger the cat.”

Mitya moved close to the bed and the thrashing man. Her father’s skin rose and fell in waves as if something alive moved beneath it. His muscles contracted and then released. His jaw elongated, his mouth filling with teeth, and then receded back to normal. All the while those eyes tracked Mitya, recognizing the vicious leopard in him.

Her father’s name was Antosha Dover and he was in his early sixties. At one time he’d been strong, strong enough to hold back his leopard after he’d been shot multiple times. No one knew he was still fighting, keeping the cat at bay while his brain was slowly shutting down due to the bullet that couldn’t be removed. He was still fighting, for his daughter’s sake, but the leopard was gaining strength as he lost it.

“Antosha,” Mitya said. “I’m your daughter’s mate. Look at me. See me. Hold your cat back or I will have no choice but to fight him. My leopard is vicious and very experienced.”

The cat’s yellow eyes swung around the room, clearly looking for Ania. Mitya had wondered about the deep scratches in her arms. Defense wounds. She had helped her father battle back the cat on more than one occasion. Mitya wanted to shake her. This was dangerous. She needed help and yet to keep her father safe, she had taken on the duty of guarding him from the rest of the world and guarding the world from his leopard. He admired her for doing it, but knew it was far too dangerous for her on her own. Sooner or later the cat would break free and she would be facing a crazed, pain-driven animal looking to kill everyone in its sight.

“Look only at me, Antosha. Your daughter needs to be kept safe at all times. You don’t want to be the one to kill her. Have you seen her arms? Your leopard attacked her.”

“Stop,” Ania hissed. “He feels bad enough. He can’t help what is happening.”

Mitya heard the unshed tears in her voice, and he wanted to gather her close and hold her to him. How long had she been alone in this fight? He knew from experience that when a man was dying from a brain injury, especially if that injury had occurred violently, the cat was injured as well, and became even more deadly. Her father would have killed her eventually.

“Kotyonok, stay quiet and let me handle this.” He kept his voice low, but there was no way to keep the command from his voice. He’d been giving orders since he was a child. He was the son of the most vicious vor in their homeland. Every other lair knew of Lazar and his son, Mitya. He wanted to be gentle with her, but this wasn’t the time.

He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to Sevastyan. At the same time, he slid the shiny loafers from his feet. He was always ready for his leopard to emerge. He could shift in seconds, his cat already fighting as the animal emerged. He was a vicious fighter, and he would annihilate a cat that had no experience, as Antosha’s leopard clearly wouldn’t have.

“Please don’t,” Ania said. “Let me try.”

He didn’t want to kill her father. If he did, she would never forgive him. He knew that. He also knew it was going to be necessary. Maybe not this time, but soon.

“Antosha. I know you’re there somewhere. Fight him. Don’t let your life end with your leopard trying to kill your daughter. You know you don’t want that as your legacy to her.”