Leopard's Wrath - Christine Feehan Page 0,98

male cat had Jewel’s head snapping up, and she turned to face the meadow that separated where she was from the other tree line. Three cats burst from the brush and Ania’s heart nearly stopped. They weren’t as big as Dymka, but that just meant they were a little more compact. Their fur, even from a distance, looked as if it was tattered and ripped, old scars on other scars preventing the fur from growing in places.

They looked far more experienced at fighting than she had counted on. Jewel, get to the tree, now.

Jewel had it in her mind to show the three intruders what they would be fighting for, but once she saw the shockingly fierce faces of the cats, their malevolent yellow eyes ringed with red, noses wrinkled into snarls and stained teeth, she wanted nothing to do with them. She almost stumbled over her own paws getting to the tree.

Ania forced her to stop right at the base on the far side from where they had placed the stakes. Cover them with leaves, Jewel, she chided. We have to get the cat to come at us from the other side and then, when he climbs, come around to this side. He can’t suspect the spikes are there.

She tried not to be annoyed with her female. Like Ania, she had no real idea of what she was doing. I know that you’re afraid and you’re also in heat, but you have to trust me to guide us in this situation. If you refuse to listen to me, we have no chance at all. Those cats are here to kill us, not become your mate. Even if they mate with you, they will kill you after.

Jewel hadn’t wanted to believe it but now, seeing them tearing across the meadow, eyes burning, not looking like cats in the throes of a frenzied mating call, she had no choice but to understand. Every instinct was warning her that if she didn’t listen to Ania, they were going to die. She tossed up leaves with her paws and then went around the tree doing the same before rubbing over the trunk right where she planned to go up it.

Now, Jewel. We’ll see better. They’re almost on Dymka.

Ania couldn’t imagine that every property owner in the rolling hills couldn’t hear the terrible roaring challenges from the four males. There was satisfaction in that. Bannaconni and Perez would know there was trouble. Sevastyan was never far from his cousin. He would come as well. They just had to hold out.

Jewel went up the tree, using her claws to climb. Ania directed her to climb up the side they needed the unsuspecting male to climb, but in order to get to the higher branches, he would have to circle around to the other side. The higher branches were noticeably weaker and creaked ominously while taking Jewel’s weight.

Ania’s heart pounded, hoping she hadn’t misjudged. Another roar nearly stopped her heart. They were on Dymka, leaping at him ferociously, all three of them, hoping to bring him down fast. She didn’t realize she was nearly taking back the form, forcing Jewel to turn in the direction she wanted so she could watch the terrible fight happening a short distance from the relative safety of the tree.

One cat, a particularly motley one with dark-tipped fur, leapt on Dymka’s back, hoping to break the spine. Another hooked claws into his hindquarters, trying to drag him backward while the third went for his throat. Jewel’s claw gripped the tree trunk hard while Ania debated. Maybe she should have tried to help Mitya instead of taking to the tree like a coward.

As she took that first tentative step, pulling her claws from the trunk, Dymka threw off the dark-tipped leopard, hurling him into the one clawing at his hindquarters so that the two cats came together in a tangle of legs and claws. Dymka rose onto his back legs, standing tall, ripping and slicing with lethal claws at the third cat, opening his belly, going for genitals with blurring speed.

The third cat fell backward and Dymka was on him, going for the kill, a suffocating bite to the throat. His mouth closed over the fallen cat, but the leopard was already twisting, coming back to its feet, so Dymka got a mouthful of fur. The dark-tipped cat rushed him again, while the last cat, the one with a particularly long scar where no hair grew, circled around and came at Dymka’s

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