Lair of the Lion

wild mane flowing down his back, shaggy and untamed despite the cord securing it. Muscles rippled beneath his shirt. He stalked to the door and wrenched it open.
    At once Isabella felt the dark stench of evil pouring into the room, shadow streaming in like filthy water, fouling the air. She carefully placed her empty teacup on the table, rising as she did so. She saw only Sarina's anxious face as the servant hurried into the room. The older woman was looking past Don DeMarco to the puddle of tea and broken crockery on the floor.
    "Mi scusi per il disturbo, signore, but those wishing an audience with you are waiting. I thought perhaps you had forgotten them." Sarina curtseyed slightly, not looking at the don.
    Instead she was examining Isabella's face, her expression distressed.
    Self-consciously Isabella covered the scratch on her temple with her palm. Even as she did so, she turned in a slow circle, trying to pinpoint the exact location from which the cold, ugly sensation of evil was originating. It was so real, so strong, her body began to shiver in reaction, her mouth went dry, and she could feel the frenzied pounding of her heart.
    Something was in the room with them, something Sarina didn't appear to notice. Isabella saw the don lift his head warily, as if he was scenting the air. Unexpectedly the falcon began to flap its wings. Isabella swung around to look at the bird.
    Sarina was already at the table, bending to pick up the broken teacup. Isabella felt a sudden surge of hatred in the room, black and fierce. She threw herself forward just as the raptor let out a scream and launched itself straight at Sarina's exposed face. Isabella landed on the older woman, driving her to the floor, covering her with her own body, hands over her own face as the falcon struck at the servant with outstretched talons.
    A roar shook the room, a terrible, inhuman, beastly sound. The falcon uttered a high-pitched squawk as it slashed Isabella's back, shredding the fine fabric of the gown and digging long furrows in her skin. Isabella couldn't prevent a cry of pain from escaping. She could feel the bird's wings beating above her, fanning her. Sarina was sobbing, praying loudly, wretchedly, not even trying to escape the weight of Isabella's body.
    Isabella turned her head to look for the don. He wasn't in her line of vision, but, to her horror, an enormous creature had crept into the room through the open door. It stood only a few feet from her, its head down, its eyes staring at her intently. It was a lion, nearly eleven feet in length, at least six hundred pounds of roped muscle and sinew, with a huge golden ruff tapering to a thick mane of black running halfway down its tawny body. The luxurious crest added to the beast's impression of power. The animal stood completely still. Its paws were huge, its gaze fixed on the two women. The lion was the biggest, most frightening thing Isabella had ever seen. She couldn't have imagined the animal in her worst nightmare.
    Sarina and she were in mortal danger.
    And the falcon had ripped open her skin, the smell of blood an invitation to the beast.

    The thought came unbidden to her that something evil had orchestrated the event.
    Isabella knew that neither she nor Sarina could escape. The animal would strike with lightning speed. She forced breath into her body. She would have to rely on the don. Trust him to tame the beast. Or slay it. As she stared into the wild, feral eyes, she vowed to be unafraid. The don would not allow the beast to harm them.
    The lion took a slow step forward, then froze again in a classic prelude to an attack. She couldn't look away from the eyes so focused on her. She would believe in the don. He would come to their aid. Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked rapidly, desperate to keep her wits about her. Hands caught at her, gentle hands that lifted her into strong arms. Then she was cradled against the don's chest. She buried her face in his shirt, terror rendering her incapable of speech. For the first time in her life she was close to fainting—a silly, feminine reaction she abhorred. She wanted to see if the lion was gone, but she couldn't find the courage to lift her head and look.
    Don DeMarco reached to help Sarina to her feet. "Are you injured?" he asked the older woman in a gentle voice. "No, just shaken. Signorina Vernaducci saved me from harm.
    What did I do to upset your bird? He has never flown at me before." Sarina's voice quavered, but she