head around and then called out to the men already dead in the yard.
Amory pulled a gun. “I know you’re out there. Just back off and let us get what we need.”
Dymka crawled forward, inch by slow inch, gaining ground, staying to cover. His hate-filled eyes remained on the traitor. This was the man who had all but killed Antosha and destroyed his relationship with Jewel and Ania. He crawled on his belly, using the freeze-frame stalk of the leopard, one that could be excruciatingly slow, but kept the animal, although he was large, from being seen.
“Mitya. Sevastyan. I know you’re out there.” Amory turned first right and then left, examining the flowers and leafy plants placed artistically around the front of the house. “Let’s talk about this.”
His partner had pulled his weapon as well and was doing the same as Amory. Once, he shifted just his upper body, utilizing his leopard to try to find where the enemy was. “They’re out there, Amory,” he declared, his voice tight.
“Settle down, Kris,” Amory advised. “Just keep your back to the house and your weapon ready.” He raised his voice. “The old man took something from us. Something important. We just want it back.”
Mitya could care less what was taken. He wanted Amory dead. Dymka wanted to tear him and his leopard from limb to limb. Neither he nor Sevastyan made the mistake of answering. That would allow Amory to zero in on their positions immediately. Vikenti, however, moved back into deeper cover, and he had no problem centering attention on himself.
“Antosha assured us he didn’t take anything.” Vikenti had the ability to throw his voice from any direction and he did so, turning Amory and Kris toward the sound, which was quite a distance from where he actually was.
Kris lifted his weapon, but Amory calmly put his hand on it and lowered it. “The old man, Antosha’s father, took it. We’ll go in quietly and get it back. I’m sorry about Antosha. He was a decent sort, but he was dying anyway. No one wants to hurt Ania.”
Mitya used Amory’s inattention to creep within several feet of him. So close. Dymka had the traitor’s smell in his nostrils. He pulled his lips back several times, exposing his teeth, his body nearly shaking with the need to kill.
“You killed Antosha, Amory.” Vikenti made it a statement, careful to keep his voice a distance from where he was. “You’re responsible for his death.”
Kris had zeroed in on the exact bush where he thought Vikenti hid. He even took a step out from the safety of the long porch. Again, Amory restrained him with a hand to his arm and a shake of his head. Amory looked around carefully. The trouble was, he was focusing several feet out, expecting the main attack to come from that distance, not two feet in front of him.
“He should have been dead three years ago,” Amory continued.
“You did that?”
“I was part of it. We needed to get into the house.”
Dymka exploded into action, wholly fixated on Amory. Beside him, Sevastyan was on Kris, knocking the weapon from his hand, just as Mitya was doing with Amory. Dymka’s teeth closed over Amory’s arm and bit down. Amory screamed, but he was already shifting, fast, just as he’d been taught. The enemy had infiltrated Drake’s organization and he’d been given the best training for his leopard, shifting under the worst circumstances.
He used his claws to rake Dymka’s belly, desperate to get the big cat off him. The two tumbled over each other, rolling, the bites vicious, trying to find a way past the loose skin to get to vulnerable organs.
Sevastyan knew Mitya, and knew if he wanted answers, he would have to keep Kris alive if at all possible, because Dymka was going to kill Amory and his cat. Mitya didn’t care one way or the other what the item was that was taken from Amory and whomever he worked with. He cared that this man had destroyed Ania’s fragile faith in him. That this man had killed her father.
Dymka bit down hard on the front leg he’d already crunched nearly through the bone. This time, he heard a satisfactory snap and Amory’s leopard screamed in pain. Dymka backed away. As the other leopard made a supreme effort to get to his three good legs, Dymka rushed him, going not for the throat but for the vulnerable other front leg. He came in from the side, raking with claws to