changed the angles on the roofline as well as added places where he—or a sentry—could get into position without being seen and study their enemy.
He backed down the pitched side of the roof where the leopards in the trees couldn’t see him from their angle and then made his way back up to the western surveillance indentations. That’s when he’d spotted the third cat. This one spent time raking the tree, standing as high up in the top of the tree as possible, making certain to leave his mark, as if Sevastyan’s cat wouldn’t notice with him being in the branches.
Now, the three Amur leopards made their way silently through the woods, fur not so much as whispering along the leaves as they passed through the brush. Their large paws didn’t snap twigs or downed branches as they walked through the vegetation toward the three separate trees, each a distance from one another. They were independent predators, yet used to coordinating their hunts.
It was no surprise to Sevastyan that Shturm made it clear to Kirill’s and Matvei’s leopards that he was stalking his enemy, the “raker.” He considered the leopard disrespectful. This property was Shturm’s territory, clearly marked. The female was his, clearly claimed. Any male marking on his trees was challenging him, even if they were coward enough to hide their challenge in the trees where they hoped he wouldn’t see. He had seen and he was coming for the leopard. Matvei and Kirill could take the other two leopards.
Franco had originally left six watchers behind, but while Sevastyan was out with Flambé, Matherson had pulled two of his men back. The cameras had caught two of them leaving after a brief exchange on their cell phones. Jeremiah Wheating, one of the youngest of the bodyguards in the Amurovs’ employment, had tracked them back to where Franco Matherson was staying in his rented mansion.
Wheating originally worked for Drake Donovan and then was employed by Fyodor. They moved him around quite often because they all liked him a little too much and he was a pain. He was too intelligent and wanted everything too fast. He was particularly close to Ashe, Timur’s wife, treating her more like a sister than anything else. In fact, most of the women treated him like a younger brother, which made it difficult for the men to reprimand him. Right now, he was Sevastyan’s problem, and one he didn’t like having. He didn’t coddle people. He never had. He had a little glitch in him the others didn’t, no matter how often they told themselves they were the screwed-up ones.
Shturm turned his head once to glance over his shoulder toward the house, to those blacked-out windows, a strange, uneasy feeling snaking through his mind. He had to keep his focus on his enemy, but something wasn’t right with his counterpart’s woman. His mate wasn’t ready, but she was reaching out to him, letting him know something was wrong with Flambé. He would have to turn the form back to Sevastyan as soon as he was done teaching this leopard a lesson. Sevastyan had a way of figuring things out about women very quickly. He always had.
Shturm padded within a hundred feet of the tree the upstart leopard was in. The idiot had once again risen and this time had paced around the branch to try to reach another branch in order to put his mark on that side of the tree as well. He was a good thirty feet up and the foliage was much barer on that side, so the leopard could easily be seen. He stretched and lifted his lips and wrinkled his nose, showing his teeth before spraying the trunk of the tree.
A leopard roared a challenge in the distance and, above him, the spraying shifter nearly fell from the branch. He clawed at the limb and then hastily turned toward the sound to try to get a view. When he couldn’t see anything, he began to climb down fast.
Shturm remained very still, his body secreted in the thick bushes. He recognized the powerful voice of Matvei’s leopard issuing a triumphant challenge as it attacked again and again, probably already having ripped his adversary to shreds. Most leopards went back again and again to show dominance when the adrenaline was flowing.
The shifter leaping from the tree landed only a few feet from Shturm, but was so focused on the sounds of the intruder and his sawing roars that he didn’t even smell