Temnyy was relentless, ripping and tearing at the cat as he landed beside it. His teeth tore into the throat, while his claws raked at the sides and belly. He didn’t break away as was expected. Often cats would fight and then pull back to take a breather. Timur didn’t believe in giving breathers. Often times the win went to who was in the best condition. He was determined that his leopard would always be in prime shape.
That inner warning system blaring at him had Timur commanding Temnyy to leap away. As he did so, a second cat joined the first. This one was snarling and taunting, deliberately trying to draw Temnyy away from the injured leopard.
A bullet hit the doorframe just inches from the Amur leopard, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions. The boom of a gun answered from somewhere on the roof, and Timur knew Gorya was up there. He was the best marksman they had. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing exactly where an opposing sniper would secret himself. It was Gorya who often saved the day, taking out their enemies from a distance.
Temnyy attacked, uncaring of bullets, wanting to kill the leopard trying to drag itself away. He used the downed leopard as a springboard, hitting him so heavily on his back the snap was audible. He leapt from the now-dying leopard to the fresh one. For some insane reason, the newcomer hadn’t expected Temnyy to attack. The big cat landed on him, teeth driving deep, stiletto claws raking for a purchase in the thick fur. The cat howled and shook, trying to dislodge Temnyy.
Move. Timur issued the command in a hard voice.
Temnyy obeyed, leaping off and to one side. A shot rang out, followed by a second one. The bullet tore into the siding of the house, right where Temnyy’s head had been. This time, he was certain Gorya had scored a hit on the sniper. The two shots had nearly been simultaneous.
Temnyy’s opponent whirled around and flung himself at Timur’s leopard. His lips were drawn back in a snarl of rage. The eyes were focused and deadly. Ears were down, lying flat on the head. Temnyy met him belly to belly, raking and clawing so that fur went in all directions.
Rodion’s leopard tumbled past them, rolling away from his opponent and then was on his feet, rushing the cat that had attacked him. Timur could hear the sounds of Kyanite doing battle with another leopard as well. It seemed as though Lazar had sent an army of leopards after them.
The leopard facing Timur scored a lucky rake across Temnyy’s face, tearing open skin so that blood poured out. That seemed to excite the cat and he drove at Temnyy, trying to take him off his feet by driving hard into his side. Temnyy waited, acting as if he was disoriented, and then at the last moment was in the air, whirling around and taking out his opponent’s hindquarters. He broke the back deliberately, so the leopard screamed with pain and the knowledge that he was helpless.
Timur didn’t want to wait for Temnyy to deliver the killing bite. He urged his leopard to hurry, not gloat. Temnyy’s female was in the house unprotected, he pointed out, even though he knew several of his security people were with her. That did the trick. Temnyy stopped his pacing and fake attacks, rushed the downed leopard and delivered the killing bite.
Timur immediately took over, forcing the leopard to shift, rubbing at the blood pouring from the rake mark across his forehead and temple. The cat’s claw had barely missed his eyes.
“Check the house. Check the house,” Timur snapped as he caught the jeans someone tossed him. “They have a scent-blocker. That was staged. They wanted to kill me, but they needed the door open and they got it. When the first one jumped on me, and all eyes were there, another could have slipped inside via a window somewhere.”
“No way could they have slipped in through the door, boss,” Kyanite said, dragging on his jeans. There was blood on his chest and dripping down one arm. “I blocked the door. I made certain nothing got in this way.”
“Then check every other entry and the windows as well. They had an entry point and they’re in this house. I know they are. I can feel them.” He dragged his own jeans on but didn’t bother to secure them. Instead, he strode through the great room toward the master bedroom where he knew Fyodor was safe inside the panic room. He could live in that room for weeks if need be. They had food and water and a bathroom. “Where’s Ashe?”
“I’m here.” She stepped out of the drapes and then, instead of coming straight to him, turned to Kyanite. “I need a first aid kit. We have to stop that bleeding.” She looked past him to Rodion. “All three of you are a mess.”