Leopard's Rage

by Christine Feehan

  She took a slow drink from her water bottle, placed it carefully on the table and then kept her fingers closed around it. “There’s a condition some of the strawberry leopards have—and yes, it’s genetic as well—that I suffer from, where nerve endings can make life hell.”

  Blaise turned back, kept his gaze fixed on her face, but the expression in his eyes had gone predatory. “You need sex all the time? That’s what you’re saying.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a condition, not something you want to have anyone you care about sharing with you, you know?” That was true as well. She’d been ashamed of it for so long, and truthfully, no matter what Sevastyan said or how she tried to rethink it, she still was. She didn’t want to think that her body drove her. She wanted to be in control.

  “Damn it, Flambé. You went to the bar and picked up human males and had one-night stands so you wouldn’t let anyone you cared about get attached to you.” He made it a statement.

  Flambé was grateful he had made that a statement. There was no requirement for her one way or another to comment. She just looked at him and shrugged again. He could infer from that that Sevastyan wasn’t a man she cared for; she just hoped he didn’t ask her any questions. She could see the sudden speculation in his eyes.

  “Flambé, you should have come to me and told me all of this instead of keeping it to yourself.” He heaved a sigh. “I understand why you didn’t. Your father has so much to answer for. You spent most of your life alone, trying to figure out everything on your own, but you really need someone to rely on. I’ve been in your life longer than anyone else and you know you can trust me.”

  For the first time she could hear that slight discordant note and Flamme scraped hard against her, protesting his declaration. Her heart sank. Blaise. What was left of her family. Unexpected tears burned behind her eyes. Hormones, she told herself. She forced herself to concentrate on the water bottle, lifting it to her mouth and drinking. She didn’t taste the cool liquid, but it saved her from crying and giving herself away.

  Truck coming up the road, malen’koye plamya. Sevastyan’s low voice was in her ear, intimate. Sounding the way he did when he spoke to her with a rope in his hands.

  Vehicles moving into position at back of property. I count two, Christophe Tregre reported. He was situated in the control room inside the main house. It was imperative Flambé keep Blaise out of the house.

  Can you see how many inside each vehicle? Sevastyan asked.

  That’s negative at this time, Christophe answered. Over to you, Ambroise.

  Am looking from above, using heat imaging, Ambroise intoned, sounding distant. He was, in fact, at Mitya’s. In all but the first vehicle going to front of house, there are five-man teams. First vehicle holds three people.

  “I have to text Sevastyan that all is well, Blaise. Give me a minute. I don’t want him charging in and ruining everything. He likes to take over.”

  A look of annoyance slid over Blaise’s face, hastily gone as he turned away. He walked down the stairs and bent down to examine the newly planted shrubs.

  That should be right, Sevastyan. Two of my extraction team members would escort Shanty to me. They would then take her to the safe house from here, she texted to him.

  Don’t leave that alcove for any reason. When you’re going to talk to Shanty, have them bring her there and make everyone else leave. You have access to the house and you can get her inside and lock both of you in if necessary. Again, his voice was like liquid velvet in her ear, stroking her nerves when Blaise had unsettled her.

  If they do have her husband, she won’t come with me unless we’ve gotten him back. Do you have any idea where he is? Who has him?

  He has to be close. If it isn’t the money and it is her mate, she will continue to ask for reassurance that he’s alive. That means she has to ask for constant contact. Have her do that. When she does, we can get his location and go after him.

  Blaise is coming back.

  Knowing Sevastyan was close, that he had eyes on her, comforted her to some degree, but there was this underlying hurt and feeling of betrayal that just wouldn’t let go. She had grown up feeling that male shifters were not trustworthy. They didn’t care about females. Females had to rely on themselves. She wasn’t going to miraculously get over years of conditioning because Sevastyan had called the doctor and tried to find ways to help her. She knew she would question his integrity even when she didn’t want to.

  “What’s wrong, Flambé? Is Sevastyan giving you trouble?” Blaise asked, perching on the railing, looking confident, as if he owned the property. There was something almost proprietorial in the way he acted, both over the land and over her.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just out of sorts. Moody, I guess. I wish this was over and I could just be myself again.”

  “Did you say just be yourself again? Do you think you made a mistake with Sevastyan, Flambé?” Blaise asked.

  Flambé hesitated. She had made her choice to be with Sevastyan, made that commitment to him. Was she sure of him? Absolutely not. She was still very much terrified. How did anyone, man or woman, know they weren’t making a terrible mistake when they entered into a life partnership? Sevastyan wasn’t an easy partner. He wasn’t ever going to be easy, but then, if she was honest, neither was she.

  SUV turning up driveway. Sevastyan’s voice was in her ear.

  Gratefully, Flambé turned to look at the vehicle proceeding toward them. She recognized the 4Runner used by the extraction team in the United States to transport the shifters they brought in. They already had received all their shots, had their papers and were ready to go to their assigned home, usually the confines of a safe house for a week until they were brought onto the main property. The men slept in the barracks and the women usually had rooms in the main house.

  “They’re here, Blaise.”

  “Flambé,” Blaise began. “You don’t have to stay with this man. You know that, don’t you? It’s your leopard’s first cycle and they often make mistakes the first time around.”

  “She was terrified.” Flambé kept her eyes on the 4Runner in the distance. “I was as well. Franco Matherson had been stalking me for a while. He ran me off the road when I was coming out here to talk to Sevastyan about working on his property. He threw me up against his car, punched me when I fought him, and I hit my head really hard on the ground when I went down. I fought him and barely managed to get away.”

  Flambé had turned back to watch the expressions chasing across Blaise’s face. There was genuine outrage. Fury. He was leopard and he had a leopard’s temper. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  She shrugged and kept going with her explanation. “I was very disoriented and I ran into the woods. I knew the property because I’d been here with my father. I ran up to the house and unfortunately, my leopard was able to break free enough to call to Sevastyan’s male. I was too out of it to know what was happening until it was too late for both of us. I have to take full responsibility for that. It wasn’t his fault. My leopard was very seductive. She thought she was protecting us from that creeper.”

  “Franco Matherson?” Blaise echoed.

  She nodded. “Yes.” Deliberately she ran her hands up and down her arms, shivering. “He’s never going to leave me alone. He’s sent several of his men to kidnap me even after that. At least three different tries.”

  Blaise stood up, his back to her, watching the 4Runner as it came closer to the house. “Are you absolutely certain it was Matherson, Flambé?” His voice was very quiet.

  “Yes.” She remained seated. “When she gets out of the car, will you have them bring her up here into the alcove, Blaise? I always interview each person alone. That’s imperative. If I don’t have access to them alone, where I feel they can be completely candid with me, I can’t get a feel if they’re right for our program. If she isn’t, we can
ask Drake Donovan to help her and her children. We’re very full and there’s more of these shifters out there, displaced from their lair.”

  “She’s going to insist that you accompany her and the children to the safe house, Flambé,” Blaise said.

  “Why would you think that? Her children are already there.”

  “She was so nervous she was insisting you go to South Africa.”

  Flambé nodded. “You’re right. Well, maybe this one time I might have to make an exception, as long as I don’t think my leopard is too close to rising. If so, I’d have to let Sevastyan know.” She let her voice trail off.

  Blaise shook his head decisively. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Flambé. You should just tell her no. She can be like everyone else.”

  There was a hardness in his voice she’d never heard before. Whatever Blaise was up to, whatever the original plan was, and she was certain it involved getting into the 4Runner with Shanty, Blaise had suddenly changed his mind.

  Flambé recognized two members of the extraction team. They regularly moved back and forth between the United States and any country where they retrieved shifters and brought them to work in the landscaping business until they could decide where they wanted to go to school and what they were interested in as a business.

  Terry Orsan was a tall, dark-skinned man with a ready smile and the roped muscles of the shifters. He wore his hair longer and it tended to curl around his head in ringlets, although the only one who could get away with calling the long dark curls ringlets was his daughter. She was ten now and adored her father. Jet Vicks was short in contrast to Terry, but equally as muscular, with a thick lion’s mane of graying hair that was wildly out of control, tamed only by a loose tie. It was clear the two men had worked together for a long time. Jet helped the young woman out of the 4Runner while Terry watched their backtrail. In spite of being on private property, they were both wary, very cognizant of being responsible for their client.

  “Blaise, this is Shanty Jacobs. She’s come to speak with Flambé,” Jet said.

  Terry and Jet both scanned all around them, looking up on the rooftops and over to the trees as if they were nervous.

  “Are you expecting trouble?” Flambé asked, standing, drawing their attention. She didn’t come out of the alcove, very conscious of Sevastyan’s orders. “I’m Flambé, Shanty. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you in South Africa, but my female was rising. Her first heat.”

  “I understand,” Shanty said. Her eyes were a delicate blue, but she looked as if she’d been crying for days. Her eyes were swollen, her face puffy. She looked at Flambé once and then down at the ground. A tremor went through her body.

  “I don’t know about trouble, Flambé,” Terry answered. “I’ve got this feeling in my gut. I’ve had it for a while now. When I get it, it’s not a good thing to ignore.”

  Jet nodded. “He’s never been wrong yet.”

  “Shanty and I are going to sit here for a few minutes and talk,” Flambé said. “If you gentlemen would give us space. A good deal of it, please. Leopards have excellent hearing and I would prefer that you get out of range. We’ll put on some music to help mute what we say to each other as well, but this conversation is strictly between us. Blaise, in the cooler there are two ice-cold water bottles. Would you mind?” She gave him one of her sweetest smiles.

  Blaise immediately handed the two women a bottle of water each and then stepped off the porch. “I don’t like getting too far from you.”

  “It’s not like anyone can get to us,” Flambé pointed out. She made certain she didn’t look at the front door, which was only a few steps away. Inside that house was a team of Sevastyan’s men ready to surround her and Shanty with safety if she could just get Shanty to make a call to the men holding her husband hostage.

  Blaise nodded and the three men left them. Flambé waved Shanty to a chair. “This must have been a very long, scary trip for you and the children. How are they?”

  Shanty nodded. “I think they’re good,” she mumbled.

  “Where are they?”

  “They were taken to the safe house by the other members of the team.”

  Shanty was speaking so low, in spite of the fact that Flambé was leopard, she could barely hear her. Flambé looked her over. The woman was thin. She looked utterly miserable. Her skin was red, her face blotchy. Flambé took a deep breath. It was now or never. She pushed a sheet of paper across the table at Shanty. Flambe turned on a small fountain set sitting on the table and leaned close to it allowing them to whisper, the water interfering if Shanty was wired.

  “They’ll have toys for them. Jack and Lyndon are really great guys, they’ll watch out for them. And both men believe in ice cream treats. The kids will be spoiled rotten.” She poured enthusiasm into her voice as Shanty read the note.

  Both brows came together. Her face flooded with color. It was a simple enough question. Was there a bug planted on her so someone could overhear their conversation? Shanty stared down at the note for a long time. She shook her head several times and her eyes filled with tears. Her hands trembled.

  She pressed her fingers over her mouth and nodded.

  “You’d usually stay at the safe house for a week before being taken to the main property where you’re housed. Because you have children, I’m hoping we can put you up in one of the little houses.” Flambé poured enthusiasm into her voice as she pushed the second note at her. “We’re trying to make one available as quickly as possible.”

  Shanty read it.

  Betrayal for money? Or what?

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. They have my mate. My Reiner.” She whispered it leaning into the fountain.

  “I suspected as much.” Flambé spoke softly. The others may have moved away, but she didn’t trust that leopards might not overhear.

  Can you insist on contacting him? Hearing his voice so you know he’s alive? Answer in a whisper but keep very close to the fountain. She wrote it out carefully, showed it to Shanty and when the woman nodded, tore it off, crumpled the paper and put it carefully in the pocket of her jeans.

  Flambé flashed her an encouraging smile and indicated the water bottle. “Do you know who is behind this?”

  “A man named Matherson. He wanted me to say I was beaten and my husband was following me. That I couldn’t get away from him. I was supposed to say I was afraid to tell that to the men. I was to tell you that he threatened to kill me and take my children.” She put the water bottle to her mouth but didn’t drink. Tears were falling and she tried to keep her face covered if anyone could see her. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I really didn’t. He said he would kill Reiner.”

  “The most important thing is to find your mate and get him free before we do anything else. Can you insist on a call, demanding to hear his voice before you go any further? Just step onto the porch away from me. Say you think I’m really nice and you want to know your husband is safe before you betray me. Something that will convince them you need encouragement. You need to hear his physical voice. Make them let you talk to him. If they let you, stay on with him as long as you can.”

  Shanty took a deep breath and then she nodded. She stood up and walked away from Flambé. Flambé hadn’t heard a lie in her voice. Either the woman was very, very good at deception, or her husband really had been taken prisoner. Matherson wanted Karisa, Basil Andino’s mate, back. It had become a matter of pride with him. She also had the feeling that he was just as determined to claim her. He wouldn’t keep her long, but he’d claim her.

  A little shiver went down her spine. She wished she knew more good shifter males. Ania insisted there were many and that she’d introduce Flambé to them as soon as they took care of her problems and Flamme was no longer in heat. That was another thing that was a little worrisome. Her skin was beginning to feel a little prickly. It was very early in the morning, although the sun was out. They�
�d deliberately scheduled the meeting for early morning, when Flamme should be worn out from the night before from her run with Shturm.

  Ambroise is getting a lock on the position. Sevastyan kept her informed through the small earpiece. Gorya, Logan, Kyanite, Trey and Jeremiah are on the move and as soon as they have an actual address will hit the place and secure him. Will let you know. Hopefully, she stays on the phone long enough to give us an address.

  Flambé silently willed Shanty to do so. Shanty glanced at her once and Flambé mouthed for her to keep talking and then took a hasty drink of water, grateful she was farther back in the shadows, because Blaise was looking at the two women. He paced back and forth, ignoring Terry and Jet, who paid more attention to security, watching for any sign of danger. They faced away from Blaise.

  Flambé’s heart began to pound. She pulled out her phone, unable to help herself, and texted Sevastyan. Worried Blaise might harm Terry or Jet.

  Under control, baby, Sevastyan’s soft voice whispered in her ear.

  She had to have faith that he did. Why was she so nervous? Why was she suddenly having doubts all over again? She pushed both hands through her hair, finding she was shaking. She didn’t want Blaise to be the one betraying her. All along she kept hoping they were all wrong.

  Blaise had never really shown any signs of being a typical male shifter, arrogant and controlling—like Sevastyan. Like Mitya. Like so many of the others she saw take advantage of the women. He’d been sweet and friendly and always accommodating. When she’d turned him down after he’d asked her out, he’d never gotten weird with her, or upset. He took her refusal in stride. She’d made it clear she didn’t mix work with pleasure and she never had. If Blaise could turn on her after years of acting so caring, what did that mean for her future with a man like Sevastyan?

  You’re crying, baby. What’s wrong? What’s going through your head? I’ll come to you right now if you need me. The hell with the plan. I’ll figure something out. The words whispered in her ear via the tiny radio.