complete. It was impossible not to do as he said when he seemed in such complete control and utterly invincible. Corinne couldn't look away from him until the car pulled out from the curb.
The moment those black eyes were no longer on her, Corinne covered her face with her hands. "We shouldn't have left him like that. I don't know why I act so out of character around him. Cullen, we need to go back and help him. If someone is in our house, they could hurt him, or worse."
Cullen laughed softly. "Save your sympathy for anyone in the house. It won't be Dayan who goes down."
"I'm serious," Corinne said. "There could be several men with guns."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Believe me, it won't matter. They won't hurt him." Cullen spoke with complete conviction.
"He's a musician, a gentle, sweet poet," Corinne protested, thinking of the beauty of his words, the tenderness in his smile.
Cullen laughed softly. "He's much more than that, Corinne. Don't worry about him. He really has an uncanny knack for taking care of himself."
Dayan watched the car until the taillights disappeared around a corner. Corinne feared for his safety. He read it easily in her eyes, in her mind. Heard her protest with his acute hearing. It warmed him as nothing else had ever done. Then he turned his head very slowly to look at the house. As he turned, his entire demeanor changed. There was nothing left of the elegant male. At once he looked like what he truly was.
A dark, dangerous predator unsheathing his claws. Stalking his prey. He began to move in the darkness
– his home, his world. He had the complete advantage. He could see easily on the darkest night, he could move with the silence of the wind, he could scent his prey as keenly as the wolf, and he could command the skies and the earth itself.
Dayan glided around the house, effortlessly vaulting the six-foot fence. As he did so he shifted shape, landing silently on four paws instead of two feet. The leopard padded softly on its large, cushioned paws, the grass barely moving as it circled the back of the house. Off the back porch a light shone beneath the door of a small room. In the shadow of the porch, the huge cat wavered and shimmered, its mottled fur almost iridescent for a brief moment, then it simply dissolved as if it had never been.
A stream of vapor poured through the crack of the door, flowing as quickly and silently as a lethal dose of carbon monoxide. Dayan gained the interior of the house and paused for a moment inside while the vapor wavered into transparency once more, only to reform in the huge, well muscled body of the cunning and silent predatory cat.
Dayan padded through the small, well-lit room into the darkened kitchen. He knew immediately where both hunters lay in wait. He could smell them, a pungent mixture of fear and excitement. They had been waiting for some time, pumped up and ready, sweat glands excreting their foul stench, but inevitably the wait had drained them and they had become restless and cramped in their positions. When the headlights of the car had signaled the arrival of the two women, the cycle had started all over again. Fear.
Excitement. Adrenaline. And then the terrible letdown.
They were shifting their positions, uncertain what to do. Their orders were clear. Wait until the women arrived, grab them quickly and quietly. Dayan read their minds as clearly as he smelled the sweat from their bodies. Neither noticed the large leopard as it made its slow, patient approach in imperceptible silence.
The cat walked boldly out into the center of the spacious room, not even attempting to use the furniture for cover. This kind of cat-and-mouse game was as old as life itself to the predator. The leopard's eyes remained focused on its prey, a penetrating, piercing stare signaling that death was stalking. Those eyes held all the cunning and intelligence of a great hunter. They were not the yellow eyes of a
The moment those black eyes were no longer on her, Corinne covered her face with her hands. "We shouldn't have left him like that. I don't know why I act so out of character around him. Cullen, we need to go back and help him. If someone is in our house, they could hurt him, or worse."
Cullen laughed softly. "Save your sympathy for anyone in the house. It won't be Dayan who goes down."
"I'm serious," Corinne said. "There could be several men with guns."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Believe me, it won't matter. They won't hurt him." Cullen spoke with complete conviction.
"He's a musician, a gentle, sweet poet," Corinne protested, thinking of the beauty of his words, the tenderness in his smile.
Cullen laughed softly. "He's much more than that, Corinne. Don't worry about him. He really has an uncanny knack for taking care of himself."
Dayan watched the car until the taillights disappeared around a corner. Corinne feared for his safety. He read it easily in her eyes, in her mind. Heard her protest with his acute hearing. It warmed him as nothing else had ever done. Then he turned his head very slowly to look at the house. As he turned, his entire demeanor changed. There was nothing left of the elegant male. At once he looked like what he truly was.
A dark, dangerous predator unsheathing his claws. Stalking his prey. He began to move in the darkness
– his home, his world. He had the complete advantage. He could see easily on the darkest night, he could move with the silence of the wind, he could scent his prey as keenly as the wolf, and he could command the skies and the earth itself.
Dayan glided around the house, effortlessly vaulting the six-foot fence. As he did so he shifted shape, landing silently on four paws instead of two feet. The leopard padded softly on its large, cushioned paws, the grass barely moving as it circled the back of the house. Off the back porch a light shone beneath the door of a small room. In the shadow of the porch, the huge cat wavered and shimmered, its mottled fur almost iridescent for a brief moment, then it simply dissolved as if it had never been.
A stream of vapor poured through the crack of the door, flowing as quickly and silently as a lethal dose of carbon monoxide. Dayan gained the interior of the house and paused for a moment inside while the vapor wavered into transparency once more, only to reform in the huge, well muscled body of the cunning and silent predatory cat.
Dayan padded through the small, well-lit room into the darkened kitchen. He knew immediately where both hunters lay in wait. He could smell them, a pungent mixture of fear and excitement. They had been waiting for some time, pumped up and ready, sweat glands excreting their foul stench, but inevitably the wait had drained them and they had become restless and cramped in their positions. When the headlights of the car had signaled the arrival of the two women, the cycle had started all over again. Fear.
Excitement. Adrenaline. And then the terrible letdown.
They were shifting their positions, uncertain what to do. Their orders were clear. Wait until the women arrived, grab them quickly and quietly. Dayan read their minds as clearly as he smelled the sweat from their bodies. Neither noticed the large leopard as it made its slow, patient approach in imperceptible silence.
The cat walked boldly out into the center of the spacious room, not even attempting to use the furniture for cover. This kind of cat-and-mouse game was as old as life itself to the predator. The leopard's eyes remained focused on its prey, a penetrating, piercing stare signaling that death was stalking. Those eyes held all the cunning and intelligence of a great hunter. They were not the yellow eyes of a
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