Leopard's Rage - Jaida Jones Page 0,109

had been in her family for a long time and it was difficult for her to think of letting it go, but her life was committed to Mitya and she eventually decided she wanted Sevastyan to have the Dover estate. He had been there so many times and had unconsciously been making plans for it. Once living there, he’d discovered, the house and grounds had plenty of secrets, such as the tunnel leading between the properties. There was a second tunnel that led out to the highway. The Dovers believed in being careful. They weren’t quite as paranoid as he was, but he appreciated their efforts and was taking advantage of some of them.

Sevastyan led Flambé into the first garage, through the cavernous interior over to the far wall that separated the two garages. That wall was shared by the second garage. He stared up at the high ceilings and then the loft made up of the thick beams.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in here thinking about our leopards. Right here”—he put his hand on the wall—“this will come down when we open it up. If we planted a really big tree here, one with a thick trunk and large branches that grow out in both directions, as well as up toward the loft, we could create a really amazing space for our leopards.”

“Our leopards?” Flambé echoed, spinning around to look up at him, shock on her face. She had been wandering around, not really paying him much attention, but now she was wholly focused on him.

He nodded, ignoring her look of total surprise. “When we tear the wall down, and utilize both garages, the space will be large enough for the leopards to really roam around, especially if we keep the loft. They’d have a climbing area, a place to rest, and several ways to escape from either side of the garden. If we got in trouble, they would be safe and so would we.”

Flambé stared up at the planks of wood overhead that still made up the loft where the pulley system that had dragged engines out of cars had been. She walked away from him and then out farther, where she continued to study the loft from different angles.

“We could make stairs to the roof in various directions from the loft. Long ones so they weren’t noticeable and the leopards could use them as perches or places to rest if they wanted,” she added. “I like the idea of a large tree here. I’d have to bring in a big crane and we’d need to put the roots down deep. That would require a very large hole.”

Sevastyan couldn’t help but drink in her expression. When she started talking about her work, the love of her plants and the designs she created, she practically glowed. She forgot all about being guarded and became totally enthusiastic. Clearly, she could envision the garden even better than he could.

“If we make the tree the focal point, the branches extending not only up toward the loft and roof but down toward the ground and whatever we choose to plant there, as well as outward to both sides of the garden, it could be extraordinary,” she continued. “I was thinking more along the lines of a water feature as a focal point, but this is brilliant when you not only consider the leopards and their needs, but any number of ways to escape danger.” She tapped her thigh with the water bottle. “Really, Sevastyan, this is good.”

“If you use a mature tree, how can you train the branches in the directions you want them to go?” He’d been curious about that. Most of the trees she planted were young enough that she could work with the immature limbs, twisting them and encouraging them gently, using materials to sculpt them in the forms and ways she wanted them to go. She could make a living tree a piece of art, and often did.

“It is more difficult with a mature tree,” Flambé conceded, “but we’ve got many already planted on our property that my father began years ago with the idea in mind that we might need to use them for special clients. There weren’t that many shifters in this area, but he planned ahead. I’m doing the same thing. When I take an older tree, I plant several more and work on them in order to shape them accordingly. Still . . .” She broke off, looking up at the loft, shaking her

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