just didn’t add up to him,” Mitya said. “She’s strawberry. She was caught on camera and her picture was put in just about every newspaper from here to hell and back. Flambé’s team did a cursory investigation and filled out the necessary paperwork to bring her and the children to the States. The team has a holding area they take every shifter to before bringing them into the States while the necessary paperwork is being done. They get shots, all the work is done there and they’re protected. Shanty’s paperwork had to be pushed through quickly and favors had to be called in. She was told ahead of time and yet she still pitched a fit, insisting that Flambé come to meet her personally in South Africa.”
Sevastyan’s gut tightened the way it did when something felt wrong to him. The woman should have just wanted to get out as fast as possible.
“Could she have been so frightened she just wanted to see Flambé’s face? Flambé would have been the most recognizable, right?” Ania asked.
“How?” Sevastyan demanded. “She provided an extraction team. They would have sent their photos, not Flambé’s. She wouldn’t have been involved at that point. She wouldn’t be involved until the woman and her children were turned over here in the United States. Flambé had stopped going on runs for a while, especially with her leopard so close to emerging. She has a price on her head. She knew better than to go. So how did this woman know to ask for Flambé personally?”
“Did you ask Flambé?” Mitya said. Surprisingly, his tone was mild. The angrier Sevastyan became, the calmer Mitya became.
“No.” Sevastyan shoved both hands through his hair. “I don’t want her to think I’m taking over her business. Our relationship is very fragile.”
“Her life could be in danger, Sevastyan,” Mitya pointed out. “If it was Ania, you’d throw her over your shoulder like a caveman, scowl at me and toss her into the panic room.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sevastyan snapped, but his tone was conciliatory. Mitya was right. He would do that. He would expect Mitya to protect Ania and he would be furious if he didn’t. He was just so damned afraid of losing ground with Flambé.
“You have to ask her,” Mitya pushed. “You don’t have a choice.”
Sevastyan knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. In a way, Shanty had saved him. He doubted if Flambé would have stuck around if she hadn’t been waiting for the woman. But if so many others had a bad feeling about her, then something had to be off.
There was no sound but he turned to look toward the kitchen. Now that Flamme had finally made her appearance and fully integrated with Flambé, she moved even more like a leopard, but there was no covering her scent, not from Sevastyan. Everything around him faded in comparison to her. The colors of the leaves and plants, the clouds drifting across the sky. The way the property rolled and seemed to go on forever.
He inhaled, tasting her on his tongue. Cinnamon and spices, setting up the craving for her the way it always did. Flambé opened the kitchen door and stood framed there, her gaze on his face before she took a breath and looked at their company.
Mitya stood, Ania tucking in quickly beneath his shoulder, giving him her full support. “Flambé,” Mitya greeted her first, not waiting. “I had to come to tell you how very sorry I am for the way I’ve treated you. Please let me explain, although there really is no excuse. I can only throw myself on your mercy and hope you’re as compassionate as Sevastyan says you are.”
She released her death grip on the edge of the door and stepped onto the porch, a hint of a smile lighting her eyes, turning the green a jeweled emerald. “He says I’m compassionate?”
Mitya nodded. “He does.”
Flambé took the chair beside Sevastyan’s. “He wishes I was compassionate with all the crap he pulls.”
Mitya burst out laughing. “She has your number.”
Ania nudged him. “Probably in the same way I have yours. Get on with it.”
“Yes, well.” Mitya sank back into his seat and pulled Ania down onto his lap. “I’ve been looking out for Sevastyan since he was a boy. It hasn’t been easy either. He’s always in some kind of trouble.”
“That’s easy enough to believe,” Flambé said. Sevastyan scowled. “Flambé, I’m the head of security.” “That means nothing.” Mitya waved that airily away and then bit