Vladimir Mirvo pressed the smooth sleeve of his worn brown leather jacket against his ravaged cheek. A low curse escaped him when he felt the sting of his ripped flesh. The tiger cub’s claws were like razor blades. They had laid his flesh open as smoothly as a surgeon’s scalpel. The damn cat had inflicted wounds on his face and chest that he would carry for the rest of his life.
He tightened his right hand on the steering wheel of the truck when its back-end started to slide. He fought for control of the bulky vehicle on the slushy, mud-covered road. He eased back on the accelerator to keep from losing control. Vlad shot a quick look at the side mirror to see if he had put enough distance between himself and the man who had unexpectedly appeared. Now several hundred feet from the house, h
