the house one by one, as if they were preparing for bed. He left the television on in the living room for a short while and then turned that off. His team would be arriving any minute, coming in through the same tunnel he’d driven the car in. He’d chosen carefully. He had picked men he knew well, those he personally could count on. It wouldn’t have mattered to him before, but now that he had Flambé, that had changed. Before, it hadn’t mattered whether he lived or died. Now he wanted to live a very long time. He had something unexpected to live for.
Kirill Chernov and Matvei Bykov had been unexpected in his life as well. Both men had been childhood friends when there were no such things. His father, Rolan Amurov, saw to that. If Sevastyan was ever careless enough to show he liked someone, which he often did as a very young child, his father made certain to beat the child in front of him, most times nearly to death. Sometimes to death, laughing the entire time. Sevastyan learned to stay away from other children. Rolan made certain his son couldn’t form alliances or in any way have followers who might someday rise up to defeat him before he was ready to step down from his position as vor.
Kirill and Matvei had proven their loyalty to Sevastyan over and over, all the while making certain Rolan and his lieutenants never saw the boys talking. They developed their own code, although at first, Sevastyan was distrustful of the offer of friendship. It was Shturm who convinced him the boys and their leopards were sincere in their determination to become his friend. They had witnessed time and again his father and his lieutenants beating Sevastyan and his leopard for trying to protect others in the lair. As they grew up, the friendship only got stronger, and when Sevastyan and his cousins left Russia with prices on their heads, Kirill and Matvei went with them, risking their lives as well.
Sevastyan knew both men had the same problem with their leopards, that fierce, savage nature that the Amur leopard trained from birth to fight and kill gave them. That made life so much more difficult, adding to the burden of their already edgy, challenging lives as shifters in a world not meant for men with animalistic traits.
He turned off all the lights and then unlocked the back door separating the garage from his home. The two men would enter the garage directly from the tunnel. The men Franco Matherson had left behind to watch him wouldn’t be able to enter the garage. Even if they did manage to find an entry point, they would set off every hidden alarm and he would know.
He made his way down the wide hall to Flambé’s room, hoping she had been exhausted enough to actually fall asleep. He didn’t like the idea of her being afraid. He didn’t mind a little fear—but only for the right reasons. Tonight, he wouldn’t be there to comfort her. He could tell the room was too big for her. She had looked around her, liking the beauty of the master bedroom because she was an artist and could see the natural artistry of the space, but for her, it didn’t work. He wasn’t certain why, but those answers would come over time.
The door was open, she hadn’t closed it, which told him she wasn’t afraid of being with him, and that pleased him. He wasn’t certain why she was able to trust him so quickly, but he was grateful that she was. She would need to. He didn’t think Franco Matherson was going to give up so easily, not with what Drake and Jake had to say about him. Sevastyan couldn’t just go kill the bastard and be done with it, not without a certain risk. He didn’t want to bring that risk to Mitya’s door. Or Flambé’s for that matter. Franco had brothers. In Sevastyan’s world, that meant those brothers would come looking for him.
He stalked silently into the room, seeing immediately that Flambé wasn’t in the large bed. He used his leopard senses to find her, inhaling sharply. She had a sutble fragrance, one he found particularly pleasing. The combination was of hints of freesia, Moroccan rose and Egyptian jasmine spiced with coriander, cinnamon, cloves and buchu. The fragrance was so subtle it was barely there, but it was particular to Flambé, not a perfume, but natural