“Take two of these pain pills and rest tonight,” Dr. Kargina Romanova instructed Charlee. West leaned back against the wall of his suite at the sanctuary. He didn’t want her anywhere else but his quarters. One of the benefits of the family donating millions of dollars was a private suite on the property in the housing building for the employees of the sanctuary.

Due to Charlee’s injury, they chose to take her back to the main building of the sanctuary. Before arriving, they had made a pit stop at the base camp so that everyone could go there as originally planned, but since Charlee was shot, West, Luka, and Malena brought her back to the main building for medical attention.

They had driven nonstop, calling in ahead that they had an injured person. The local medical team had met them outside once they drove up to the building. Dr. Romanova was the Russian concierge physician on staff at the sanctuary.

A knock at the door broke through West’s thoughts. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly. He relaxed at the sight of a refreshed Malena standing at the door.

“How is she?” she asked, walking through the door.

“She’s doing fine,” Charlee mumbled, trying to sit up in bed on her one good arm before flopping back against the plush pillows.

“Now take it easy,” Dr. Romanova gently scolded. “Here, let me help you.”

West walked to the foot of the bed as the doctor and Malena helped Charlee get more comfortable. Both he and his tiger felt helpless as they watched Charlee wrestle with her pain. He would have taken the bullet for her without a second thought, just to spare her the pain.

“Take it easy tonight and get some rest,” the doctor instructed as she gathered her medical bag. “Don’t let her out of this bed unless she needs to use the restroom, then straight back.”

“Don’t worry about it, Doctor, we’ll make sure she rests,” Malena said as she helped Charlee sip a glass of water to take the pain pills.

“You couldn’t pay me to get out of this bed.” Charlee yawned and slid farther beneath the covers. “I have truly missed the comforts of a real bed after spending so much time in the wild and sleeping on the ground in tents.

“Mr. Rogavac, can I ask you a question?” The doctor switched over to Russian and motioned for West to follow her to the door. He took one last glance at Charlee to see her and Malena speaking quietly.

“Is there something I can do for you, Doctor?” he asked as he followed her into the hallway. He shut the door quietly behind him.

“The materials that I found in her wound is something that I have never seen before. Where did it come from?” Her eyes were wide in anticipation. He held in his chuckle at the excitement on her face. “It cauterized the small vessels to completely stop the bleeding, and it looks as if it has an enzyme in it—”

He held up his hand and shook his head. “You’re going to have to speak to my lead biomedical engineer, Luka Batalo. He designed it in our labs.”

“I would love to speak with him,” she said, reaching into her bag. She handed him her business card. “Please, have him call me. I have so many questions.”

“I’ll pass it on to him.” West nodded.

“Please do, and call me anytime for Dr. Black if she needs anything.”

“Will do,” he said with a nod as the physician walked off. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he looked down at the glass screen and saw Luka’s name appear. He slid his finger against the smooth screen. “Yeah.”

“Hey, I just spoke with Drago and updated him on what happened. He wants to meet with us. He got the information we needed out of the human.”

“Where?” West slowly twisted the handle to this suite and opened the door slightly so that he could check on Charlee. Malena had crawled into the bed with her, and they both were dozing off.

“Over in Kutsk at the Tiger Eye Tavern.”

“Fine. I’ll be down in five.” West pressed the end button and crept into the room. He didn’t want to disturb Charlee, but he couldn’t resist checking on her.

The tavern that Drago wanted to meet at was owned by a local tiger shifter that West knew. Kutsk was the next town over, and the tavern would be a safe place to meet and discuss sensitive information.

He walked over to her side of the bed and found her asleep. He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He glanced over and found Malena staring at him.

“She’s head over heels for you, you know,” Malena said softly.

“And I for her,” he replied.

“Don’t hurt her.” She yawned and snuggled down farther into the bed and closed her eyes.

“Never. This I promise.”

“Drago,” West greeted his friend with an outstretched hand. The security specialist gripped his hand in a firm shake as they sat down at the small table located in the back of the tavern. They would have plenty of privacy. Drago’s men, Ivan and Gerald, stood watch with their backs to the table. No one would dare interrupt.

Drago raised a finger, summoning the waitress. The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties. She had dirty blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail, with jeans and a black T-shirt with the tavern’s logo splashed across the front.

“What can I get you?” she asked, quickly taking their orders. She didn’t appear to be intimidated at all by the large guards standing around them. West knew that this establishment drew in shifters of all kinds.

“I hear that there was some action after we left,” Drago stated.

West went into detail on the shooting, but paused as the waitress returned with their drinks. She quickly handed them out and promised to return soon to check in on them.

“The fucker shot Charlee,” West growled, trying to tame his feline. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the identification card and the newspaper clipping before placing them on the table.

Drago dragged them across and studied them.

“This definitely confirms that they’re after her,” Drago murmured.

“Yes, but I need to know who the hell they are,” West snapped, taking a drink of his straight vodka. The cool liquid burned slightly as it slid down his throat. He was not worried about drinking too much tonight. With his shifter metabolism, he would burn off the alcohol before they even left the bar.

“The human we captured sung me a very pretty song,” Drago drawled, his eyes intense.

“Talk,” West demanded. This was the closest they had been to finding out who was orchestrating the attacks.

“Vitya Nikitovich was hired to follow the good doctor and sabotage her expedition. This assignment was for him to become a Vor.” Drago took a sip of his drink.

“A made man,” West murmured. His tiger began to pace beneath his skin as he waited for Drago to continue. West grew up in a Russian family that still had ties to the homeland. He certainly knew of a few Russian Mafia pakhans, or bosses.

“And you’ll never guess which Bratva he was trying to be made in to.” West already knew that he wouldn’t like the answer. Every brushing he had with the Bratva’s, or brotherhoods of Russia, left him feeling dirty.

“Which one?” Luka asked.

“The Ruslanovich Bratva,” Drago informed the table. West’s paused, drink to his lips, at the words of his security specialist.

“Is that so?” West murmured, taking a sip from his glass. He didn’t taste any of the liquid as Drago continued.

“According to the human, the Ruslanovich Bratva was working with the top Chinese poachers. They had a trade deal between the Russian Mafia and the Chinese Triad. This deal is worth millions, and the poaching side of their industry is being threatened by your woman, Dr. Black.”

West grew still as his mind flew with the worst-case scenario, and he knew without asking that it was probably about to play out. He knew the leader of the Ruslanovich Bratva, better than he would like to.

“What else?” West questioned. He knew there would be more. He gripped his glass tight as he waited for Drago to answer.

“The Bratva put out a contract on Dr. Charlee Black.”

The sound of glass shattering filled the air at the admission. West glanced down and found that he had crushed the glass in his hand. He shook off the small shards as his tiger let loose a growl.

The waitress, hearing the glass shatter, rushed over with extra napkins and wiped the table clean. He slowly wiped his hands with the napkins, ensuring that there was no glass embedded in his palm. The waitress hurried away, promising to bring another round of drinks for them.

Charlee was a brilliant species specialist, and she was making a hell of a difference in the world for endangered animals. Her lectures and speaking engagements took her all around the world. She focused not only on the animals themselves, but shed light on the black market and was getting more countries to side with her and ban poaching.

Because of her lifelong work, countries with high poaching rates were cracking down on the black market business. If the Bratva was able to take her out, it would be a while before someone else would gain enough momentum to make a difference. Without Charlee, everything could slowly go back to the way it was before she had taken the world by storm.

The Ruslanovich Bratva was run by Tabakov Danilovich, grandson to the founder, Solomin Ruslanovich. Tabakov was a businessman with corrupt dealings all over the world, some even in the United States. West tried to avoid him over the years. He didn’t want his family’s name and business associated with the crooked businessman.

The Ruslanovich and the Rogavac’s, unfortunately, shared a history, one that dated back to the era of West and Tabakov’s grandfathers, Galdin Rogavac and Solomin Ruslanovich, in the days of Joseph Stalin. During the reign of Stalin, both Galdin and Solomin were small-time criminals and were thrust into the gulags, Soviet labor camps.

There was a fight for power amongst groups in the gulags, where a war of sorts broke out. It was Galdin who had saved Solomin’s life while they were in the labor camp. As a thank you for saving his life, Solomin promised that whenever a Rogavac called on the Ruslanovich family, any request would be honored. Over the years, the Rogavacs had never had any need to ask of anything from the Ruslanovich family.

West knew what he would have to do. He would have to pay a visit to the Russian pakhan. He sat back in his chair, dreading the meeting, but knew that he didn’t have a choice. If he wanted to save Charlee, then he would have to go see Tabakov Danilovich. But this visit wouldn’t be for a business deal. No, West had something in his grasp that was more valuable than gold.

Charlee’s life.

West pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his secretary. He didn’t care what time it was back home. He paid her good money to be available to him around the clock. She answered on the first ring.

“Find me Tabakov Danilovich and set up a meeting,” he said and ended the call. Diana was one hell of an executive secretary, and he knew that even though the call was brief, he didn’t have to repeat himself.

It was time for the Ruslanovich Bratva to pay their debt.