Her gaze suddenly jumped to something behind him, the smile fading, alarm taking its place. Simultaneously his leopard went crazy, raging a warning, all claws and fury, rising fast, pushing hard to emerge. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Timur spinning, his hand going under his coat to pull his gun.

9

IN that split second, Evangeline realized making a decision was not always rational or well thought out. She only knew that she made it decisively. Fyodor/Alonzo was her choice. Not her leopard’s. Not his. He was her choice. He’d been her choice from the moment he’d sauntered into her bakery all those months ago.

These men were coming to kill him. In that instant, that split second, she knew they wanted his death. No one had ever stood for him, and she was going to do it. She didn’t think about his bodyguards, only about making certain no one took him from her. No one got to shoot him or stab him or poison him. He belonged to her and she was going to take care of him.

She put one hand on the counter and launched herself, reaching for her female’s speed and strength. Time slowed down. She saw every detail as she flung herself at Alonzo. His bodyguards turning toward the door. Men filling the door, men with guns already spitting fire. Alonzo shouted at her, whipping a gun out, shaking his head, yelling to his guards to protect her.

She hit him hard—and he was a solid wall of muscle—taking him over face-first so that he staggered, but caught her in midflight. Still, her body covered his and she felt the burning kiss along the side of her head, up high near her temple and two more harder blasts that radiated throughout her body along her arm and thigh. Then Mitya hit them both, taking them to the ground. Alonzo’s gun fired right next to her ear. She felt the heat of it, although mostly she felt pain. The agony spread through her fast.

She kept trying to cover Alonzo’s body with her own, which now, thinking about it, was a little silly. He was twice her size, and Mitya had both of them locked to the ground. He was firing his weapon as well.

Alonzo’s hand went to her hair. Stroked. Trembled. “Solnyshko moyo, don’t move. Don’t fucking move. Mitya, get off her.”

She realized she couldn’t hear the sound of guns anymore. It was quiet. Still. She kept her face buried in Alonzo’s shirt, afraid if she moved her body would shatter.

“Talk to me, Evangeline. Let me know you’re still with me.”