Mitya had heard the crap his father often spouted, especially about women. How they were only good for fucking. How he would command them to do anything he wanted, and he often gave them to his men and watched them get fucked to death. That was his favorite, he’d declared, a woman dying of the very thing she begged for.
It was one thing to have his father shout ugly things about him, but he realized he wasn’t quite as calm as he thought he could be when Lazar talked about his woman. “He doesn’t have her,” he whispered, needing to say it aloud to Sevastyan. Needing to hear Sevastyan confirm it.
“Not unless he’s on the roof with her,” Sevastyan said. “She’s stationary at the moment.”
Mitya couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Ania was resourceful; he had to have faith in her. “She won’t do anything crazy. Her parents saw to her survival training.” Again, he found himself needing to hear the reassurance aloud.
Sevastyan sent him a small smile. “That woman is intelligent, and she’s good with a gun. She’s armed to the teeth. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.”
Mitya knew everything his cousin said was the truth, but he needed to find her. He needed to be with her, shielding her from the vile depravity of his father. He didn’t even like her hearing the things Lazar said about her.
“She’s got a temper,” he said. “Don’t want Lazar to set that off.”
Again, Sevastyan flashed a faint grin. “That she does. She kicked the holy hell out of me.” He said it as if he was proud of her.
A thump was the only warning, and then a leopard dropped straight down on Josue, slashing his jugular with terrible claws, as his teeth simultaneously drove at Sevastyan’s neck. Sevastyan threw himself sideways. Mitya shifted, ripping the jeans from his body, barely getting them off before Dymka was there, encased in the tee, which he shredded with one swipe of his claws. He sank his hooked nails into the leopard’s back and ripped him away from Sevastyan, nearly throwing him across the room.
Dymka recognized the leopard instantly. Mitya had grown up with him, a man by the name of Artem. He had always done Lazar’s bidding, as well as any of the lieutenants’, no matter what was asked of him. He did it willingly and eagerly, no matter how demeaning or monstrous. He and Mitya had fought on numerous occasions. Artem despised Mitya because he was Lazar’s son and therefore in a position of power, and because he’d wiped up the floor with Artem when they’d fought with their fists.
Clearly, Artem thought he had the experience, and that somehow, during the years Dymka and Mitya had been away from the lair, they had lost their ability to fight. Artem attacked with a terrible roar, a battle cry, meant to intimidate his opponent. Dymka charged so they met in the air, both leopards rearing up to slash at bellies.
Behind him, the kitchen was suddenly filled with fighting leopards as four more leapt through the window or came through the open door to join the battle. Sevastyan’s big brute was in his element, snarling and driving a smaller golden male into a corner while another tried to ram him from the side. Another leopard and Kiriil came together in midair, slashing at each other with teeth and claws. The fourth leopard jumped from the butcher block straight down onto Josue, where he slumped to one side, struggling for air while his blood ran like a river down his body. The leopard blasted hot air in his face and then bit down, delivering the suffocating bite of their kind. He raised his head, his evil yellow stare finding Dymka.
Artem backed away warily as Dymka tore strips from his leopard’s belly, leaving him bloody and injured. Just as suddenly he sprang forward almost triumphantly. That was all the warning Dymka needed. The big male managed to whirl out of the way as the fourth newcomer abandoned Josue’s body and charged.
The leopard was a mixture of dark fur over gold. The rosettes were surprisingly small for an Amur leopard, a very distinctive mix. Mitya recognized him instantly. Where Artem was a show-off and an ass-kisser, Damir was an altogether different proposition. He had held out against the corruption going on in the lair, working, like Mitya, on his education. He was the son of one of Lazar’s inner circle, so he was subjected to beatings when he refused to do the things required of them, like torture anyone Lazar didn’t like.
Mitya was sorry to see that over time, Damir had conformed rather than left the lair. Once, he’d been a decent human being. The real attack would come from Damir because he was no coward. Artem was. The man would hold back, allowing Damir to take the most dangerous point. Dymka kept an eye on the golden leopard but watched the darker one, readying himself for the attack.