Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [142]
Warning radar went off, screaming at Stefan, tension coiling in his gut. He didn’t like that his brother was out of his sight and possibly rushing toward a sadist. He slowed with the thought of turning back when the scent of blood hit him again. The dog had ceased barking, but he’d marked the general area and rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. The house was dark, but the dog lay just inside the fence, his belly cut open.
Stefan swore under his breath, took a careful look around and slipped over the fence to kneel beside the dog. It was still alive, the eyes looking at him as if he could somehow save the day. “Fucking psycho,” Stefan whispered. He put his hand gently on the dog’s head. “I’m sorry, boy.” There was nothing to be done for the animal, Ivanov had seen to that, ensuring that even if the owners found him immediately, he was too damaged for a veterinarian to save.
Stefan took the time to stroke the animal’s head one last time and then quickly and mercifully broke the dog’s neck. He slipped back over the fence and headed for the street Lev had turned down. Ivanov was out tonight and he was doing damage. Stefan had always known, from the time they were boys, that Petr Ivanov couldn’t go very long without making a kill. Animal, man, woman or child, it didn’t matter. Watching others suffer and die gave him a rush of godlike power.
Lev, be careful. He’s killed a dog.
He killed more than a dog. I found a pool of blood in a backyard here. He’s been busy. I followed a blood trail but it disappeared abruptly.
Get out of there now. I mean it Lev, he’s too close and we’ve got to pull back and reassess. You’re walking into a hornet’s nest.
Stefan’s heart accelerated when Lev didn’t answer him. Swearing in Russian, he raced down the street, deliberately making noise, hoping to draw Ivanov’s fire.
17
LEV! Damn it, answer me.
Stefan was experiencing waves of fear, but they were feminine in origin, not masculine, which meant his brother was connected to his wife and she knew her husband was injured. Before he could caution Lev to break the connection, something slammed into his arm hard enough to spin him around. Almost simultaneously, a sound like a firecracker reverberated down the street. He dropped to the asphalt and rolled toward the nearest yard and cover.
Fucking bastard, Lev snapped. You hit?
Stefan made it to the overgrown shrubs and belly-crawled forward. A spray of bullets cut through the leaves all around him. He found a depression in the ground and rolled into it, making himself as small as possible. Up and down the streets, dogs began to bark.
A nick. You? Blood dripped steadily down his arm and his shoulder felt like it had been hit with a two-by-four, but he could still use his arm, and that was what counted.
Could use a little help. I ran into a trap and can’t move.
Lev pictured a steel trap, chained to a thick tree, modified with serrated teeth and a punishing hydraulic system. Stefan had seen those traps before. Every movement would send the teeth sawing deeper into Lev’s ankle.
I tried shoving my knife down into it to get myself loose, but there’s no way that’s going to work. The damn thing almost took my leg off.
Stefan swore between his clenched teeth. I’m working my way around toward you. Don’t shoot me. And don’t move. The more you move, the worse it will get.
I’ve got that part, Lev said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Several porch lights went on along the street. Stefan needed to keep Ivanov focused on him and away from his brother and any innocents. It didn’t help that any minute some civilian would unknowingly enter into the killer’s path. He counted to three, pushed himself up and sprinted for the count of fifteen and dropped, rolled and scooted forward on his belly, using elbows and toes to propel his body behind a screen of rocks and fern.
Bullets spat dirt into his face and ricocheted off the rocks closest to him. He was grateful Ivanov had always been a close range killer and rarely used a gun for the actual kill. He preferred