Mitya nodded, because what was there to say? Ania was his first priority, but when someone was trying to kill them, he had no choice but to defend them.
“We’ll get out of here, Mitya, but watch yourself and now your back.”
“Fyodor, you have several of Drake’s shifters working for you, just as I do. Just as Joshua does.”
Mitya looked at Timur, wanting him to understand just what trouble they were all in. Lazar might pay a million dollars for someone to kill them. That was a straight up-and-up business deal. The spider might order someone to pull out a gun at the dinner table and kill the whole family. It was much more difficult when you didn’t know who your enemy was.
“I understand,” Timur said. “I’ll be looking over every single one of the men we hired from Donovan’s agency again. And I’ll be watching them.”
Gorya nodded. “We’ll make certain Fyodor and Evangeline are safe. Evangeline can’t move fast anymore. She’s pretty sick. I wish she’d walk away from the bakery if only for the rest of her pregnancy.”
Fyodor sighed. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, and I’ll be there from here on out until the issue with Lazar is resolved and this spider shows himself.”
“Timur, you and Gorya are at risk from both enemies as well,” Mitya pointed out. “Just because you’ve chosen to be the head of security doesn’t mean either of them will spare you. Just the opposite. You’re between them and their prey.”
Timur grinned at him. “Don’t much like to be called that, Mitya. I always thought I was the predator.” He stretched. “You need anything else from us?”
“No. All of you believe both Drake and Jake? They aren’t a part of this in any way?” Mitya was compelled to ask. He didn’t think so, but conspiracy had been his life when he’d lived with his father.
All of his cousins shook their heads. “Drake and Jake are on our side,” Fyodor said. “I believe every man sitting at that table is one that can be trusted.”
Mitya wished he felt the same. He was trying. He wanted to have that many friends in his life that he could count on—that his family could count on. He had been working toward that place when all this had happened, and he went right back to being the untrusting, careful man he’d always been. He didn’t let others in. He watched over his cousins as best he could. They were his only family, and they were vulnerable. Fyodor had a woman he loved. Timur did as well. That made them targets for a man like Lazar.
Fyodor headed for the door, turned back and unexpectedly took Mitya’s shoulders in a strong grip. “Be safe, Mitya. Watch your back at all times. We can’t afford to lose you.”
Mitya nodded, a hard lump unexpectedly blocking his throat. “Same goes for all of you.”
Sevastyan walked them out while Mitya went on up the stairs, needing to be close to Ania. He entered the bedroom, inhaling deeply to take in her scent and judge how close she was to needing him again. Her scent was everywhere, an enticing fragrance that settled in his lungs and made him feel whole.
He took two steps closer to the bed and realized she wasn’t in it. The blankets were piled up as if she were sleeping in the middle, but there was no Ania. His heart nearly stopped, and he fought the roar of rage. Quickly, he hurried to the master bath, but she wasn’t there either. He turned slowly, staring at the bank of windows to the wide balcony. Had someone come in? Was it possible? Could she have been taken right under the nose of every single shifter who had been at the meeting?
He slid open the glass doors to the balcony and found himself closing his eyes in relief. Ania’s scent was heavy outside. It was raining, but the roof overhead kept the furniture from getting soaked. A few feet from the door were two chairs and a small table. Ania was curled up in one of the deep cushioned chairs, staring out at the silvery rain, a blanket covering her. She turned her head and smiled up at him as he approached.
“Your meeting is over?”
She was so serene, when he’d been a bundle of nerves. He’d nearly lost his shit, turned into a raging leopard just because she wasn’t in his bed and he’d been afraid. Afraid. That wasn’t a word he associated with himself often.
“I thought someone had come up here and kidnapped you.” He didn’t mean to make it sound the way it came out. His voice was a growl of reprimand. An accusation.
“After what happened earlier, I can assure you, honey, that I wouldn’t allow myself to be kidnapped. That would make me so angry I’d have to kill someone.” She lifted the blanket and he saw the gun she held in her lap. Beside her chair was a rifle with a scope.