She ran into the bathroom, breathing hard, staring at herself in the mirror. “Traitor,” she hissed.
She couldn’t stand that woman, the one who had brought the Amurovs into their lives. For what? Not love. Not family. Sex. He wanted her for his leopard. She’d handed herself to him on a silver platter. It was possible the Amurov crime family had wanted her family dead. He’d admitted that once given sons, they killed their women. Still, what had she done?
“What did you do?” she shrieked at her image. “You stupid fucking bitch.” She hurled bottles of makeup, cleanser, moisturizer, every beauty product she had at the mirror, shattering it. Destroying it.
This was her fault. She’d contributed by allowing anyone close to her. She’d sold her father and her family name for sex. “Whore.” She threw everything she had, including drawers, at that image. She hurt so badly she couldn’t think. Physically, mentally, emotionally, she was in agony. She had to destroy everything. It was the only way to stay on her feet, to keep fighting. Anguish was so strong, gripping her, crushing her until she was afraid there would be nothing left. She wanted nothing left. She couldn’t face what she’d done.
She spun around when she heard the door rattle. Her lungs burned for air. She looked around frantically, knowing nothing could stop him. Nothing would stop him. Mitya Amurov was omnipotent. Invincible.
“Kotyonok, open the door.”
There was no containing the anguish. No way to hold herself together. She ran from the master bath, across the carpeted bedroom, for the bank of windows. She went for the one on the left side of the balcony, throwing her arms up to protect herself at the last minute. She crashed through the glass just as the door burst open.
Ania didn’t feel the cuts along her arms and hands because the terrible agony inside her refused to let up. They were in pursuit of her now, the last of her family. The only person left who could exact revenge. She had to get away. Dimly she heard yelling. Orders. She couldn’t make out the words. She only knew she had to escape. Run. Run so fast she wouldn’t have to know what he was going to tell her.
Her father was dead. Dead. Dead. She was alone in the world and there was no one to blame but herself. She screamed again, the sound bursting from inside her like a terrible storm raging. She climbed onto the railing and leapt, not even hesitating.
Jewel was close to the surface, pushing to take over, trying desperately to help her, but the fury and distress in the leopard only added to the chaos and agony in Ania’s mind. She’d never used her leopard before, not like this, leaping from a second-story balcony. She landed on the roof of the porch, slid, got her feet under her and ran to the edge. No one was below her and she jumped a second time, landing on the ground in a crouch.
A leopard called behind her. This was no challenge but a command, and the adrenaline in her veins increased tenfold. She ran. She had always been a fast runner, but now she called up Jewel, and she ran like the wind. The cool air slapped her face, but it couldn’t remove the stain of guilt. Or the rage. He hadn’t let her try to stop her father from shifting.
She screamed again, lifting her face to the dark, rolling clouds, allowing Jewel to take charge while she cried. While the tears blurred her vision. He’d always stopped when she called to him. Always. She might have found the right doctor to save him. She’d contacted so many. She hadn’t cared whether they were the doctors Antosha had approved. He was all she had left. He’d fought to live. He wanted to live. He’d told her so a million times.
She ran as if the devil was behind her, heading across the rolling grades, away from the Amurov land. Her closest neighbor was miles away, but she knew her property. She’d grown up there and she knew every acre. She knew the trees and brush. She had a good chance of escaping.
As she ran, she tried to clear her head. She always had a plan. She always thought clearly. She couldn’t seem to slow her brain. It was looping through her head, a white noise that wouldn’t stop. Just ahead of her, a man stepped out of the brush. He wore only a loose