“They don’t want Tiger’s existence to make humans decide it’s too dangerous to let Shifters live.”
Spike never talked much—but when he did talk, he proved he was more than muscle, more than a stupid fighting Shifter, as too many Shifters thought him. Even Liam had made that mistake once.
Spike had distilled the entire meeting into that one sentence.
“I know,” Liam said again. He let out a breath. “If Tiger has to die, it’s going to be me who kills him. I’m not giving him to Bowman or anyone else in that room, not even Eric. I owe Tiger that much, at least.”
* * *
Tiger trailed his hand down the sweet softness of Carly’s belly. Early-morning sunshine had strengthened and poured into his bedroom, the summer heat coming with it.
Carly opened her eyes a crack, looked at him, and let out a little moan. “Oh, no way I can do it again. Not yet.”
Tiger glided fingertips around her navel. Inside, tiny in her abdomen, new life would be stirring. He sensed it already, and the thought filled him with both a joy and a fear.
“No,” Tiger said. “Now is for resting. And pancakes.”
“Thank God for that.” Carly rolled onto her side, facing him, snuggled against his chest. “I’ve never had that much sex in my life. Not in one night. Wait, I think not ever.”
Tiger traced her cheekbone. He couldn’t stop touching her. “I like front to front.”
Carly laughed, shaking delightfully. “I figured that out. So do I.”
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Then, after pancakes . . . ?”
Carly’s laugh started up again. She rubbed a hand across Tiger’s healed side, and the caress both tickled and warmed him. “You have superstrength. I’m an ordinary human woman. You have to give me a little bit of a break, to recover. After that, we can talk.”
Tiger cupped his hand around her arm. “I’d never hurt you, Carly.”
He spoke nothing but the truth. Carly lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I know.”
Tiger lost himself in kissing her for a moment. Why hadn’t anyone told him that the strange practice of pressing lips was this satisfying? No, not satisfying. More than that. He needed to learn new words from Connor. Hot. Sensual. Wonderful.
After a long time, Carly lifted her head and drew a breath. “Being with you is . . . I don’t know. Amazing.” She sounded like she was having trouble finding words too. “Now, what about those pancakes? You making them?”
Tiger laughed. He hadn’t laughed out loud since . . . Had he ever? Once or twice with Connor, but never like this. The laugh filled his stomach, then his lungs, then came out between his lips, his smile stretching his face.
A new sensation. Another miracle from Carly.
“Liam cooks,” he said. “Or Sean comes over. Sean’s better. They won’t let me near the stove. Or knives.”
“You don’t need knives. You have those really sharp claws I saw when you turned into a tiger.”
She stopped and shivered, and Tiger’s laughter dissolved. He hadn’t given Carly time to process that she was with a man who could become a beast. He didn’t want her to have time—time was what he didn’t have. Tiger didn’t know how he knew that, but he did.
They finally left the bed and pulled on clothes, Carly gasping and pressing her hands to her face when she saw herself in the mirror over his dresser. Tiger had no idea why she thought she looked awful, as she said. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He took her down to the second floor and to the house’s one bathroom, where Carly shut him out while she ran water and kept up a conversation through the door that he couldn’t make out. Didn’t matter; he just liked hearing her voice.
Carly came out, her hair damp and combed, her face clean of makeup and dust. Tiger took her hand and walked her downstairs to the ground floor, where the smell of pancakes on the griddle filled the big kitchen.
The man standing at the griddle, a towel tucked into his jeans as an apron, was Sean, not Liam. A quick scenting told Tiger Liam wasn’t in the house.
Sean’s mate, Andrea, sat at the kitchen table, her cub on her lap. She held the little boy’s hands while he stood on her thighs, his little bare feet pressing her jeans. Kenny Morrissey was seven months old with a round, chubby face and gray eyes like his mother’s.
Connor puttered around the kitchen as well, fetching things out of the refrigerator for Sean. He glared when he saw Tiger and Carly walk in.
“Goddess, how much sleeping do you think I got with your bed banging away over my head all night? I thought Liam and Kim were bad.”
Carly turned cherry red. “Sorry, Connor.”
“I should run up to bed right now and catch some shut-eye. Either that or I’m trading rooms with you, Tiger. That one used to be mine.”
“Really sorry.” Carly cleared her throat. “Mind if I have some of that juice?” She gestured to the pitcher of orange juice and glasses on the table, the movement elegant.
“Help yourself.” Andrea bounced Kenny and smiled into his face. “Oh, yeah, little man. You’ll be walking soon, won’t you? Look at you go.”
Tiger paused to touch his hand to Kenny’s head, loving the light eiderdown feel of his hair.
“Want to hold him?” Andrea asked him.
For answer, Tiger slid his hands around Kenny’s body and lifted him. Kenny cooed, recognizing Tiger’s touch. Tiger cradled Kenny against his chest, holding him steady in the cup of his palm.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cubs were magical. No matter how frustrated, confused, or crazed Tiger became, he could always be calmed by holding a cub. He wanted to protect all of them, to not let them be taken away from him or their parents, ever.
If what he suspected was true, he and Carly would have a cub of their own this time next year. The cub would have Carly’s eyes and her smile, and when it became old enough, it would start shifting into a tiny tiger. The thought sent warmth through his entire body.
“Where’s Liam?” he asked.
Kenny gripped Tiger’s shirt, trying to stand on his arm and start climbing him. Tiger put up his other hand so the boy wouldn’t fall.
Sean answered without turning from the stove. “He got a call and had to leave town. Nothing to worry about.”
The words weren’t exactly a lie, at least, the part about Liam having to leave town wasn’t. Tiger smelled the lie in the second half of the sentence.
Nothing to worry about, my ass. “I need to talk to him.”
“Well, he’s needing to talk to you, Iron Man,” Sean said. “When he and Spike get back.”
“Spike went?” Tiger came alert. “Who’s taking care of Jordan? And where are Kim and Katriona?”
The need to know where the cubs were while their fathers were out of Shiftertown rose in a wave of worry. Cubs were vulnerable. Fathers should be with them.
“Kim’s at work, and Katriona is at Ellison’s being babysat by him and Maria. Jordan is being looked after by Myka and Spike’s grandmother.”
“You need to bring Jordan here, or send Dylan and Glory to him.” Tiger’s words came out as orders, staccato, firm. “There’s a danger in town—Walker—and Myka is human. Not strong enough to defend the cub against him. Neither is Spike’s grandmother.”
Sean turned around, spatula in hand. “Calm yourself, now. I’m not saying you’re wrong, but there’s no need for panicking. I’ll tell Dad.”
“Walker is secure?”
Sean’s eyes widened a little at all the military-like talk, but he nodded. “He’s still at Ronan’s. Ronan and Rebecca have got him covered.”
“I will talk to him too. Find out what he knows. No, I won’t kill him.” Tiger handed Kenny back to Andrea, making sure the baby was safely in his mother’s grasp before he let go. “I’ll let Ronan take care of holding him.”
Connor snorted a laugh. “In a bear hug.”
“If necessary,” Tiger said with a straight face.
“Wow.” Connor peere
d at him. “What have you been doing to him, Carly? I think he just made a joke.”
“We will have breakfast first,” Tiger said, pulling out a chair for Carly.
Carly finished draining her glass of juice. “You bet we will. I’m starving. I can’t remember when I’ve been this hungry.”
Connor burst out laughing. “Well, you would be, wouldn’t you? After that all-nighter?” He winked at Carly as he carried a plate piled high with pancakes to the table. “Better eat up, Carly. I have the feeling you’re going to get hungrier.”
* * *
Filled with delicious pancakes—buttermilk, blueberry, and chocolate chip—Carly walked with Tiger across the yards of Shiftertown to visit the Shifter called Ronan.
Carly had told Tiger he should go to Ronan’s alone while she went home, but he asked her to come with him. Asked her, but with a hint of need, and truthfully, Carly didn’t want to go home, not yet. Her time with Tiger was crazy, but she was floating in a bubble of comfort and warmth, and she didn’t want to burst it. Not yet.
She held Tiger’s hand as they walked, his gentle on hers. He didn’t seem to mind the other Shifters staring, but Carly did.
She saw right away that they weren’t staring at her, but at Tiger. Carly might have been a fly on Tiger’s back for all they noticed her. The Shifters’ gazes were for Tiger, faces unmoving but bodies tense, men subtly stepping in front of the few female Shifters they passed. All looked Tiger up and down, assessing.
Tiger noticed—how could he help it? He turned his head to meet stares, and gazes dropped swiftly when he did that. Heads would lift as soon as he passed, but none of the Shifters would lock eyes with him. That would be a challenge. Tiger might turn from his path, come over, ask why they were watching him.
The Shifters were afraid of him.
No one else wanted me in their house, Tiger had said in the car before the terrible wreck. Carly remembered only bits and pieces of the crash, but she fully remembered the bleakness in Tiger’s voice when he spoke the matter-of-fact words. Tiger lived in Liam’s house because he had nowhere else to go.
Carly grew suddenly angry at these Shifters who watched Tiger as though he were a strange monster in their midst. She thought of how Tiger had picked up baby Kenny this morning, how delicately he’d handled the boy, how trusting Kenny had been with him, and how trusting Katriona had been with him yesterday. The little boy, Kenny, was Sean’s, if Carly understood the relationships right, and Sean hadn’t worried a minute. Andrea had watched, as mothers did, but she didn’t worry either.
These Shifters who pulled back or looked away, afraid to confront Tiger but happy to stare, made Carly’s rage boil. She hadn’t said the phrase since childhood, but it seemed appropriate now.
“Take a picture,” she called out. “It lasts longer.”
Two Shifter men standing together—brothers from the looks of it—suddenly switched their gazes to Carly. Tiger growled, and they abruptly turned away, the two heading in opposite directions across a yard.
“You have fire, my mate,” Tiger said, squeezing her hand more tightly. “And no fear.”
The mate thing again. As soon as they figured out why Walker had been spying on Carly, and what he knew about the accident—she would sit Tiger down and have that long discussion with him.
But for now . . . Carly twined her fingers through Tiger’s as they walked on in the sunshine.
Ronan’s house sat well back from the street behind a garage that had been enclosed to make what looked like a guesthouse. Beyond that was a two-story house, larger than the others Carly had seen.
The door of the house popped open, and out ran a white-furred polar bear cub. Without stopping, the cub galloped straight for Tiger.
Tiger released Carly’s hand, dropped into a crouch, spread his arms, and took the full impact of the bear cub’s charge. Bear and man rolled over on the ground, dust and dried grass flying upward. The cub growled and snarled, but Tiger was silent as he pretended to wrestle with the little bear.
They writhed on the ground for several moments longer, the bear cub swiping black paws at Tiger, Tiger deflecting them gently. Finally Tiger was flat on his back, spread-eagled, the bear cub standing on top of him, growling his victory.
Tiger brought his arms up and started rubbing the bear, pulling him down into a hug. The cub made baby bear noises and nuzzled Tiger’s face.
Then the cub turned its head and saw Carly. He climbed quickly off Tiger and romped toward her.
Carly stepped back, waiting for the cub to jump and knock her flat too, but the cub only stopped and sniffed curiously around her feet. When it lifted its head, Carly put one hand down to stroke it. She found fur soft and yet wiry, rather like Tiger’s, but deeper, the pelt of a cold-weather animal.
The bear cub closed its eyes and leaned on Carly’s legs, rumbling in its belly. A warm delight worked through Carly as she kept petting, the cub crooning its pleasure.
“Olaf.” A petite young woman of about thirty, her dark hair streaked with red, had come out onto the porch. She carried a tiny baby in one competent arm, its shock of hair a rich red brown. “Let them come inside.”
Olaf nuzzled Carly’s hand one last time, then he took off across the yard, barreling past the woman and into the house.
“I’m Elizabeth,” the woman said as Tiger picked himself up off the ground and brushed grass from his jeans. “Ronan’s mate. You must be Carly.”
Carly walked up to the porch and stuck out her hand. “I sure am. Word travels fast.”
“You have no idea.” The woman was human, no Collar around her neck, cute in her cropped top and jeans, but with eyes that had seen a lot in life. The baby couldn’t have been more than a couple of months old, serenely sleeping in its T-shirt.
“This is Coby,” she said, a note of pride in her voice. “Our new little son. You two have come to see Walker.”
Carly looked up from where she’d been gently tickling Coby’s stomach. “That’s right. How’d you know?”
“Shifter gossip. Faster than e-mail. Come on inside. I’ve got cold bottled water for you—it’s a hot one today.”
“That’s Austin in the summer,” Carly said.
“You’ve lived here long?” Elizabeth led the way into the house, Carly following, Tiger close behind her.
“All my life,” Carly said. “Born and raised.” By a great mother and three sisters who’d pulled together for survival.
“I’ve been here about seven years. But I love it. Been in Shiftertown less than that.” Elizabeth bounced the little boy. “You get used to it.”
Do you? Carly wondered.
Ronan’s house was large, the floors polished hardwood with rugs, and had big, solid furniture all around. Carly guessed why the furniture was so sturdy when she saw the people sitting at the dining room table—a giant of a man and a woman who, Carly saw when she stood up, was tall, curvaceous, and absolutely gorgeous. The Collar around her neck only enhanced her sensuality.
The way she flicked her attention to Tiger made Carly’s possessiveness rear its head.
Not ten minutes ago, Carly had been thinking that she should tell Tiger they needed to slow down and get to know each other before they proceeded with a relationship of any kind. But as soon as this Shifter woman so much as glanced at him, Carly wanted to glare at her and say, Back off.
Weird, she’d never felt that way about Ethan. Carly had never worried at all with Ethan, until it was too late.
The Shifter woman must have seen the jealous glitter in Carly’s eyes, because she broke into a smile that threatened to become a laugh.
“Ronan,” she said and wandered to an open door that led to a kitchen. “They’re here.”
“I can see that.”
Ronan rose, the man larger even than Tiger. Walker sat behind him at the table, one wrist in a handcuff, the handcuff chained to a ring in the wall. Why Ronan’s household had a heavy ring in the wall in the dining room, Carly wasn’t sure, and she wasn
’t sure she wanted to know.
“Tiger,” Ronan said. Unlike the Shifters they’d passed on the way, he didn’t drop his gaze before Tiger or stare at him in hostile fear. “You’re looking good for a Shifter who should be dead.”
“I feel good too,” Tiger said. He rested his hands on Carly’s shoulders. “Not so surprising.”
Ronan’s brows went up, and he breathed in. “I see,” he said. “You work fast. But we can talk about that later. You came to interrogate Walker, right? Just remember that he won’t be able to talk if you break his jaw, knock him out, or rip out his throat.”
Tiger nodded gravely. “I’ll remember.”
“How long do we have to keep him?” Ronan went on conversationally. He moved to Elizabeth and took up his son, using the same care with which Tiger had lifted Sean’s cub. “I expected Liam to come for him, but I guess Liam has better things to do. Tasting new batches of Guinness or something.”
Ronan spoke lightly, but Carly saw his tension. Liam had left town for an important reason, one Ronan wouldn’t talk about in front of Walker, or maybe even Tiger.
Walker looked tired but whole. The bruises and scratches Tiger had left on his face were healing, and he looked all right. No one here had tortured him.
He seemed subdued though, and not because his hand was chained to the wall. Walker glanced at Rebecca, and red stained his cheekbones.
Tiger pulled out a chair and sat, leaning forward with elbows on knees. He looked into Walker’s face, just looked at him. Walker returned the look with the same blank expression.
Elizabeth pressed a cold, damp bottle into Carly’s hand. Carly took the bottle of water and opened it, watching Tiger and Walker while she drank.
Tiger waited, and minutes stretched by. Walker was getting nervous, or so it seemed from the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. But he said nothing and didn’t move.
Ronan handed his baby back to Elizabeth and seated himself at the head of the table, close enough so he could dive between Tiger and Walker if needed. The polar bear cub had disappeared, perhaps knowing that the dining room was about to become an interrogation cell.