Mitya breathed deeply, trying to force the adrenaline out of his system. The roaring in his ears and the blood running hotly in his veins didn’t do anyone any good. He fought for control when Dymka tried to take over. Fortunately, Ania realized the male leopard was fighting for supremacy and she didn’t struggle or try to defend her actions. She was trembling, but she remained very still.
Mitya looked down at Ania. His fingers were so tight around her arms that the skin had turned white. He slowly, one by one, forced his fingers away from her body and stepped back. “It’s impossible to get in here. The alarm didn’t go off. How the fuck did they get in?”
Sevastyan came striding in. He looked every bit as angry as Mitya. He didn’t even blink at finding his cousin naked. “The alarm wasn’t tampered with, Mitya. Someone turned it off. The only person we have missing is the kid.”
Mitya gestured toward Antosha. “I’ll need a washcloth and first aid kit. I take it the guards are securing the grounds and they’ve looked for Amory?”
“He’s nowhere, Mitya, and if he were dead, his body would be out there. They didn’t have time to carry it off and had no reason to.” Sevastyan’s voice was grim. He went striding from the room again, presumably to get the first aid kit and washcloth.
Mitya stared down at Ania. She had one hand on her father’s chest, but she was looking at him. He expected anger. Tears. Something. Bruises were coming up on her arms from where he’d grabbed her. She might think he was angry, but Dymka had been the furious one. He’d felt fear. No, worse. Terror. He’d hit her with the heavier body of the cat, driving her away from the door and down to the floor. The bullets had hit right where she’d been standing.
“I’m sorry, Mitya,” she said in a small voice. “I wasn’t thinking. Jewel could have been killed. You and Dymka could have been killed trying to save me. It isn’t even logical that I put everyone in danger when I know my father is already dying. He would be furious at me as well if he knew what I’d done. I really am sorry.”
He stared down into her upturned face for several heartbeats. She didn’t mess around and try to shift blame; she simply admitted her fuckup and apologized. She took his breath away.
“I have to admit, you scared the holy hell out of me, woman. Dymka too.”
She gave him a faint smile. “I think had Dymka been in control, and not you, I might not have fared so well.”
He touched the smudges on her arm. “I did this.”
“I think your leopard helped,” she said, and turned away from him to examine her father. “They didn’t kill him, Mitya. Why? They could have so easily. Why wouldn’t they?”
He looked at her father lying there, his color gray. His eyes sunken with dark circles around them. He looked thin and wasted. He looked ravaged, as if he’d been suffering for a very long time. Any shifter would know the struggle he waged every day with his leopard. They hadn’t killed him because they wanted him to suffer. There was a good chance he would lose his battle with his leopard and the cat would kill Ania.
Mitya didn’t share his conclusions with Ania. He couldn’t. She looked fragile, as if one more blow would be the final straw. He circled her shoulders with his arm and drew her against him. At once she leaned against his strength.
“They were looking for something.” He needed to distract her.
Sevastyan returned, handing his cousin a pair of jeans. Mitya immediately pulled them on and then, barefoot, went to Antosha’s side. His breathing was shallow. He glanced up and met his cousin’s eyes. Sevastyan knew as well as he did that the blow to Antosha’s head and the trauma of the break-in were too much for the man to handle.
Ania went around to the other side of the bed and took her father’s hand, stroking little caresses over the back of it with her fingers. Mitya cleaned the blood from Antosha’s face very gently. The antibiotic cream was smeared over the entire cut and then he bandaged it. Antosha stirred. Moaned.
“I think he’s full of pain,” Ania said immediately. “I have pain medication the doctors said I could give him if he needed it.” But she knew. She totally knew. Her beloved father. She’d taken care of him for the last three years and she would have gladly given him another thirty or forty of care. He was the last of her family. He was the man who had taught her everything and brought laughter and dance into their home.
“Come on, Daddy,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. You can get stronger. You just need to fight. I’m not ready.” She was pleading with her father. He always heard her. “I can’t lose any more family. We talked about this.”