Leopard's Kiss (Shadow Guardians) (Shadows Guardians Book 1)

by Stephanie Rowe

  A wave of sadness washed over her, and she pressed her lips together, trying to fend off the sudden onslaught of emotion. Seeing Slade and Killian together made the loss of her own family even more acute. When it had just been Slade and her, she’d been able to focus on him, and keep their mission at an emotional distance. But the sight of the brothers working side by side made her miss her mom and Marjorie deeply, and it tightened the constant grip of fear in her stomach about what was happening to Julia.

  She took a deep breath. Losing control wasn’t going to help her find Julia. She had to stay focused, and these brothers were her only chance. Instead of letting the grief consume her, she made herself concentrate on the men. They exuded confidence and competence. Their voices were low and deep, settling inside her like a solid weight, anchoring her. They were in deep conversation, but their stances were relaxed, like wild cats patiently waiting for their prey to step too close.

  Slade had put on a soft tee shirt and jeans, but he was barefoot, as was Killian. Both men were so at ease in their skin, it was easy to see them as the leopards they were. A whisper of jealousy flickered through her, and she wondered what it would be like to embrace who she truly was instead of hiding it. When she’d seen Slade as a leopard, she’d been too scared about his immobility to register the fact he was a leopard. But now, as she watched him talk and move, she could almost see the leopard beneath his skin. He was pure muscle and power, moving with effortless efficiency.

  Slade glanced up, and he smiled when he saw her, a quick, private smile that made her stomach turn over. “You okay?”

  She nodded, and walked in. She’d showered and grabbed a bite to eat, taking advantage of Killian’s need to run a computer search on the license plates. Slade’s bathroom was imported marble, with etched glass doors that were truly beautiful. Every inch of his home was pure elegance and luxury, and yet there he stood, in bare feet and a tee shirt, his muscles rippling like the wild animal that lived inside him, a predator that would thrive in the wild, not behind closed doors and windows. “What did you guys find?”

  Slade held out his hand to her. Surprised, she took it, and let him pull her around the desk. He tucked her in front of him, and leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm and tantalizing against her cheek, as he pointed to the screen. “All the cars are registered to dummy corporations,” he said. “They’re not traceable.”

  Her heart sank. “Really?” She’d been so sure that between Killian and Slade, they would find answers. “So, we don’t know anything more? Nothing about Julia?” She bit her lip, blinking back tears as the reality of their situation returned with brutality.

  “No. But look.” Slade punched a few buttons on the computer, and the screen shifted to six distinct video feeds. She stiffened when she saw the demon that had attacked her standing still, staring directly up into the camera. “Where is that?”

  “Outside my building.”

  She went cold. “He found us?”

  “So did they.” Killian indicated the bottom right corner, and Anya saw two black SUVs parked. The doors opened and armed men got out, carrying what looked like machine guns and dart guns.

  She sank back against Slade, fear gripping her. “Is that outside this building as well?”

  “Yeah.” Slade’s voice was grim. “They can’t see the building unless I’m in their head showing it to them, but they clearly know it’s here. They’re too close. No one has ever gotten this close.” He switched to another camera angle, showing two more sets of armed men standing in the street. “They’re on all sides. They know it’s here, but they can’t find it.”

  Anya and Killian exchanged glances, and all three of them knew the truth. Anya and Killian’s presence was not as easy to hide as Slade’s was. Their visibility in his life had compromised the safety of his home, stealing from him the one oasis he had. “So, what now?”

  “We hunt.” Slade’s voice was cold, ice cold, that of a killer. A chill gripped Anya’s spine, and she knew she was seeing the Black Swan come to life. She’d gotten used to thinking of Slade as her guardian and protector, but now, she could see him as the assassin who had silently, and mercilessly, killed so many.

  “Hunt?” Killian’s eyes gleamed with a feral hunger that made even more chills race down Anya’s back. Two brothers of the same kind. How different was Killian from Slade? Had he lived a life of killing, too? Or was killing something that had been born into their makeup, something that didn’t depend on the childhood they’d been blessed or cursed with.

  “I’m in,” he said. “I have supplies in the car. I’ll be back in a minute.” He saluted Slade then strode out of the room, moving with the same lethal grace that Slade always moved with.

  The moment he was gone, Slade turned his back on her and walked to the window. He gripped the frame, staring out at the city. His muscles were taut, and his jaw was tight.

  “Everything okay?” Even as she asked it, she knew it was a stupid question. Nothing was okay. But she’d asked the question, because she’d wanted Slade to reassure her that everything was fine, that this was a piece of cake for him.

  “No.” He turned to face her, his eyes dark. “I was pulled from death’s door for this. I know that I’m the right one for the job, because of my background with the shifter market. But what is so important about you that made someone wield a tremendous amount of power to bring me back from the dead to do it? What am I not seeing that I should?”

  He walked over to her and ran his hands down her arms, providing both warmth and a shot of hot energy. She knew her leopard was responding to his, wanting to rise up to meet him. “Who are you, Anya?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just me—”

  “No, you’re not.” He nudged her foot with his toe. “I think it’s time to take that rune off and see who you really are.”

  “What? No!” She backed up, fear rippling through her. Her mother had given her life to hide her. It was one thing to disregard her mother’s commands to run if someone found them so that she could find Julia. It was another to shift. If she shifted, she would be exposed. Not even Julia knew whether she could shift, or that she was a white leopard. “Never.”

  Slade watched her, but made no move to stop her. Why would he bother to stop her ineffective retreat across his office? He was so much faster than she was, she had no hope of escaping him. Instead of coming after her, he simply studied her. “I need to understand what is so important about you.”

  She pulled her shoulders back. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is Julia.”

  “No, that’s not all that matters.” He leaned on the desk. “My entire life is completely screwed up right now because of you. If it hadn’t been for you, my brother wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have gotten sucked into my life. The man who killed my family wouldn’t have shot me with a dart. My enemies wouldn’t be standing outside my house, waiting for me to step outside.”

  She glared at him. “Do you want to go back to being alone? Is that what you want? To forget about your brother? About me? Isn’t there anything good about what has happened to you?”

  “Yes!” He slammed his hands down on the desk, making her jump. “Don’t you understand, Anya? Everything is good. I loved having you in my bed. It’s the best gift of my damned life to be having a conversation with my brother. My house feels different with you both in it, and I like it.” He shoved the heavy desk aside, sending it crashing against the wall with frightening ease. He strode across the room and caught her wrist, yanking her against him before she could step away. “And you know what that means?” he asked. “Do you understand?” He gripped the back of her hair, his fingers holding tightly, almost painfully, but she wasn’t afraid of him.

  She knew he’d never hurt her. Ever. “Do I understand what? That you’re not alone anymore? I’m sorry, Slade, but I think that’s a good thing.”

  “No, it’s not.” He softened his grip on her hair. “It means that it’s just a matter of time until the day I walk i
n and find out you’re dead.” His voice became low, twisted with emotion so awful that she couldn’t breathe. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has been brutally murdered. Everyone. Same with my brother. It’s happening again, Anya. It’s happening all over again. You. Killian. The men outside my place. It’s all going to happen again.” He dropped to his knees, grabbed her hips, and pulled her against him, staring up at her. “I can’t go through this again. It will break me if you die.”

  She swallowed, stunned by the raw anguish raking across his features. She slid her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Slade,” she whispered, her heart breaking for the depth of his pain. This was the man who’d been so cold the day they’d met? She could almost hear the fragments of his soul shattering. She had no words to ease his pain, because his anguish pierced her own heart, releasing her grief over her mother’s murder, and her own shock at the idea of anything happening to Slade.

  “Anya.” He rose to his feet and slammed his mouth down upon hers, a brutal, angry kiss that tore at her heart. It wasn’t the kiss of a man trying to seduce. It was the kiss of a man trying to run from a ghost so overpowering that there was no escape. His anguish tore into her, shattering the shields she’d built so carefully around her own heart. Grief rocked her, the grief of her mother’s murder, of Marjorie’s, of losing Julia. Her terror at what was happening to her best friend right at that moment. The loss of a home, of love, of everything that mattered.

  Desperate, she clung to him, his strong frame the only solid thing in her life. With a low growl, he tore off her pants, extending a long, clawed nail just long enough to rip her pants in two. He dropped his own pants and then lifted her up against the bookcase filled with antique, gold-inlay hardcovers.

  He dragged her legs around his hips and then drove into her, a fierce, merciless penetration that flayed her heart open with each thrust. His pain was so raw and ragged, almost suffocating her, mingling with her own pain until she couldn’t tell where his ended and hers began. Again and again he thrust. Books fell off the shelves, thudding to the floor as she clung to him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she surrendered the pain that she’d fought off for so long, losing herself in the man whose arms were holding her so tightly. His torment was immense, almost inconceivable, tangled with the death of his family, and all the other ones he’d caused. His life, spinning through her, memories of all the people he’d killed, of being so hard that he felt nothing when he left his victims behind…pain that he now felt. Every death he’d caused was slicing through him, dragging him into the anguish he’d shielded himself against for so long. All of that, pouring through him, alive and gripping him, crushing him beneath the onslaught of the horror.

  He bellowed her name, an anguished cry of a soul shattering beneath a weight too great to endure, then his body convulsed. His orgasm triggered hers, and she bucked against him, her own body barely holding together under the sheer force of it. On and on it went, as if it were trying to keep them from landing amidst the black puddles of their grief and fear.

  But eventually, cruelly, finally, the orgasm released them. Slade sagged against her, his hands gripping the shelf by her head. She leaned against his chest, trying to catch her breath. Sweat trickled down her back, and both of them were slick with perspiration.

  She could barely breathe through the weight of his anguish. This ice-cold assassin who’d been so reserved and contained when she’d met him was bleeding from his soul now, an anguished torrent of pain, guilt, and fear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs around his hips.

  He made a low groan, almost like the whimper of a dying animal, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, snaking one arm behind her back to hold her against him.

  She wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him to her, as if that could somehow chase away his pain. She understood now why he’d worked so hard to maintain his isolated, reserved life. The trauma of losing his family was too great, of walking away from his brother, and of having killed so many people in his life. Every death had left an indelible mark on his soul, marks that he’d crushed mercilessly for so long, until they’d finally broken free.

  “It’s my fault,” she whispered, unable to stop her tears from falling. “I did everything I could to make you feel again. I thought it would be better that way. I’m so sorry.” How could any man survive the weight of so much loss and grief? It was beyond overwhelming. She understood now how he could have been both an assassin and still the good man she’d fallen in love with. The goodness she’d sensed was there, but he’d buried it to survive—

  She realized suddenly what she’d just thought. The man she’d fallen in love with? Shock flooded her system. Love? Had she really fallen in love with him? A man who fought against everything she believed in? A man so beautiful that he couldn’t withstand his true emotions? A brother so loyal he’d deprive himself of all that mattered to protect the one he loved?

  Her chest tightened, and she knew the answer. Yes, she had fallen in love with him. Maybe it had been when she’d first seen him in the bar, and his voice had rolled through her, arrogant, demanding, and beautiful. Maybe it had been when she’d seen the stricken look on his face when she’d collapsed after their kisses in the first safe house? Maybe it had been the moment he’d told her about his brother. Maybe it was all of them combined, but it didn’t really matter.

  He’d won her heart, her fragile, broken heart that ached so much it hurt to love. She didn’t have the strength to survive more pain, but at the same time, she didn’t have the strength to reject how he made her feel, to resist what he gave her.

  “It’s not your fault, Anya.” He didn’t lift his head from the crook of her neck, but his arms tightened around her. “You didn’t choose me as your guardian. That choice was made.”

  “But I made you feel.”

  “Lots of people have tried to make me feel, and you’re the only one who succeeded, but it wasn’t because of superficial crap.” He looked up then, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “You were simply yourself,” he said, his voice rough. “You should never hide who you are.” He ran his knuckles along her jaw, his gaze searching hers with raw, open emotion. “You’re beautiful, in a thousand different ways. I’ve never been around someone so genuine and open. You’re a rare gem, and you should be treasured, not shamed for who you are.”

  Tears filled her eyes. I love you. She knew he didn’t want the words, but she needed to say them to herself, to acknowledge how deeply he’d touched her.

  But he went still, utterly and completely still, his face losing all expression. “What?”

  She blinked. “I didn’t say anything.” But even as she said it, she realized she’d forgotten about their psychic connection. Had he heard her thoughts?

  Chapter 21

  Every muscle in Slade’s body went taut, suspended in frozen animation. He knew what he’d heard. He knew exactly what Anya had thought. She loved him. A part of him wanted to fall to his knees and surrender himself to her, to the gift she’d offered him, to pour his own heart into her. And another part of him, the grittier part, wanted to sweep her mind instantly, ridding her of every last memory she had of him. To chase her out of his life before all hell could rain down upon them.

  But he did neither. He couldn’t do either one of them. Surrendering was too dangerous. Severing his ties to her made the most sense, but the mere thought of being without her made his lungs tighten until it was difficult to breathe.

  So, he did nothing. He simply went still, barely holding his shit together, his mind a frenzied mess as he fought to clear it. Somehow, the realization that she loved him made all the pain greater and more intense, because failing her now was the ultimate betrayal to her. She gave him her love, and if he let her die, it was like stabbing her in the heart and shredding the fragile trust she’d given to him.

  But at the same time, knowing that she loved him seemed to seal up the holes in his soul. It was a fragile thread weaving it back together, infinitely brea
kable, but somehow, some way, he felt stronger now, as if her love somehow shielded him from the pain that had nearly destroyed him.

  How could her love weaken him and strengthen him at the same time? He didn’t know, but he didn’t care. It was a gift, an unthinkable, beautiful treasure that he knew he would hold onto with every fiber of his being from this moment until the day he died.

  She looked terrified, afraid that he’d heard her. He realized she didn’t want him to know. She wanted to hide it, so they could both pretend it wasn’t true. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t heard it. He’d never forget it. Ever. And he didn’t want to. But he sure as hell didn’t want to put it on the table. It was too heavy to deal with right now.

  So, he forced himself to step back, lowering her carefully to the ground. The sight of her half-naked with flushed cheeks made his cock get hard again instantly, and he scowled, yanking his pants back up. What was wrong with him, wanting to fuck her all the time when there was major shit going down? Because that’s all it could be. Fucking. He just… “When this is over,” he said. “I’m going to wipe your mind of all of this.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “It’s too dangerous—”

  “Hey! I am so over that inane idea!” She slammed her palm against his chest, hitting hard enough to make him step back. “You don’t have the right to do that! It’s my life, not yours, and you don’t get to choose what I remember. If you walk away, I still have the same enemies I had before, and all your enemies will already know that we’re connected. If you strip my mind, then I won’t be ready and I’ll be easy prey.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Just because you can’t handle the fact you care doesn’t mean you get to endanger me.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I am sick and tired of that crap, Slade. You know damn well you don’t want me to forget you, so just stop it! I’m going to go steal pants from your closet, and then we’re going to figure out a plan that actually makes sense!”