in their cruelty. He didn’t blame the leopard, but he couldn’t allow him loose, and that was a constant fight, day and night. At no time could he ever let down his guard. Not when he was tired, sick, alone or in desperate need of a woman.
“Mitya.” Sevastyan said his name softly. “You were a boy.”
Mitya couldn’t remember being a boy. There was no childhood, not with a father like Lazar. He pushed his fingers into the corners of his eyes, wishing there was a way to lay it all down, just for a few minutes. He’d had them, he reminded himself. A few precious minutes. For a moment the need to go back and find the woman was strong, almost overwhelming. Ania. If he took her and kept her, she would give them both peace. God knew, he needed peace.
“I was three or four when he started taking me with him. If I cried, the beatings were worse. I think my first memories were of his fists. The first taste in my mouth was of my own blood.”
“And Uncle Filipp?”
“I heard him talking to Lazar. He tried to tell him he had so many sins on his soul. He said it was different when the woman was the right one. His leopard was satisfied and not driving him mad. He saw things with much more clarity.”
“Lazar was furious. Really angry. After Uncle Filipp left, Lazar called Filipp’s two older sons for a meeting. Dima and Grisha came that evening. They spewed hatred for Gorya’s mother and him, although he was just a small baby. Lazar told them to hurt their father first, hurt him so he couldn’t move. To wait until he was with Gorya’s mother. Until he was lying on top of her, all spent and relaxed, not on guard. He wanted them to realize that their father had brought this on himself. He had been stupid enough to fall in love. The woman made him weak, vulnerable. She was really the one to kill him.”
“He convinced Dima and Grisha that Filipp deserved death because he was in love?” Sevastyan didn’t sound as astonished as he should have.
Mitya nodded. “Lazar said Filipp was no longer sharp. He could easily be overcome. To go into the bedroom, incapacitate him first, but not kill him until both had torn apart his woman and her leopard. He was very specific about needing to be alerted when they were making their move. He would come to oversee, but not participate. It had to be all them.”
“What was his purpose in going?”
“I think he was furious with Filipp, that he would ‘betray’ them by falling in love with Gorya’s mother. He wanted to see him punished. Filipp dared to find happiness, something Lazar, Rolan and Patva would never do.” Mitya looked down at his hands. “Something few of us will ever be able to do.”
Sevastyan’s breath caught in his throat, an audible reaction. Mitya didn’t dare look at him directly. His cousin definitely saw too much.
“Mitya, there is much to live for. Fyodor and Timur both found their true mates. This woman you met tonight . . .”
“I deliberately didn’t get her phone number. Or her last name. It is tempting to believe she could save me, save Dymka.” More than anything he wanted his leopard saved. Dymka meant “smoke,” as in fog or mist, and it was an apt name for his big cat. At times the leopard had been extraordinary, slipping into places in plain sight, yet never being seen.
“I would never want to bring a woman into my private hell. You and I both know Lazar is going to come for me. If he deliberately had Filipp’s two sons kill the woman his brother loved in front of him and then kill him because of a perceived betrayal, you can imagine what he has in store for me.”
Sevastyan was silent for so long Mitya wasn’t certain he would respond. When he turned his head to look at him, his cousin was staring out the window into the night.
“She was beautiful,” Sevastyan finally murmured. “Your woman. All of us felt her. She’s leopard for sure, Mitya. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
Mitya hadn’t given her origins that much thought. “She told me her grandmother was from Russia. She was named after her. Ania.”
Sevastyan’s head went up. “Seriously? Russian? Mitya, this could be a—” He broke off, frowning. “She looked familiar, and she was on the road leading to our estate. The