Wild Shadow : A Sweet Paranormal Romance

by Martha Dunlop

  Dylan sighed. ‘Not tonight, mate. I haven’t got it in me to have the same old arguments.’

  GJ swallowed. ‘I may not be as predictable as you think, drummer-boy.’

  ‘Then what do you have against Tabitha?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’ GJ sighed and they headed out into the darkness of the cool night.

  5

  Dylan

  There didn’t seem to be any way to make the coffee strong enough. Dylan ground more beans and tried again. Having personal access to an industrial coffee maker when you had a hangover was a major bonus of working in a cafe. His head pounded, his throat was dry as a desert and his stomach rolled like the Atlantic. He couldn’t believe how drunk he had been, or that he had forgotten he was on the early shift.

  The cafe was packed. It was a bright morning and the whole of Wildley Forest seemed to have turned out for coffee before the rain set in. The cosy space was rammed with people wrapped in thick winter coats and hats, despite the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Dogs slept by their ankles. A roaring fire was lit in the front room and Dylan had been delivering warm scones with cream and jam to nearly every one of the wooden tables.

  This was the bad side of working in a cafe. He wanted space to nurse his hangover. Instead, he got people and every one of those people wanted to chat with the local celebrity.

  Dylan’s phone rang. His mum’s face flashed up on the screen. Swiping it to voicemail, he slipped out from behind the counter, leaving Cassandra to deal with the queue.

  ‘Hey, Dylan,’ a familiar voice called just as he reached the door.

  He turned. Bob, the pub landlord, was coming towards him. ‘I, erm, I just wanted to find out if everything was okay after last night? Things got a little, let’s say, tense? I hope my star attraction isn’t looking unstable?’

  Dylan put on the most reassuring smile he could muster. ‘It’s all fine, just a bit of a domestic. Between you and me, I don’t reckon Linden should have had that drink before the show. It makes him too confrontational. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it again.’

  Bob’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Yes, well. Please do. You’re a great little band and I’d hate for you to lose the appeal you’ve worked so hard to build.’

  Dylan’s smile was so fake it was making his cheeks ache. ‘Sorry, Bob, my mum’s outside. I just need to let her in.’

  ‘Of course! Tell her I’m sorry for delaying you.’

  Dylan raised his hand in acknowledgement, and then ducked out the back door before anyone else could stop him.

  His mum was waiting for him outside. ‘Ready to help a gasping woman round to the back for her morning pick-me-up?’ Rachel raised her eyebrows, suppressing a smile.

  Dylan opened the side gate and she came through, moving faster than his hungover legs could carry him.

  ‘It was a big night then?’ she asked, when he caught up with her at the second gate.

  Dylan gave a genuine smile for the first time that morning. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’

  ‘Actually, I do.’ She laughed outright this time as he let her through to the back garden. Don’t you remember me sitting by your bed with a bowl, a pint of water and paracetamol? I wasn’t expecting you, but I guess you wanted to be looked after.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Dylan grimaced. ‘That does make sense of my alarm being set. I assumed I had been uncharacteristically organised.’ He opened the double doors at the back of the cafe and she wheeled up the ramp, sliding into her favourite space at the table next to the garden window. She put the reserved sign on the side and opened the newspaper he had left, folded and ready for her.

  ‘Your regular?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘But add a chocolate brownie please. I didn’t get anywhere near enough sleep last night, so I need artificial energy.’

  Dylan grimaced. ‘My treat. I owe you that, at least.’

  ‘At least!’ Rachel propped up the newspaper and started reading.

  Dylan found one of the biggest coffee cups they had, filled it almost to the brim with almond milk cappuccino and plated up a brownie. The hairs on his arms rose as the echo of a growl sent a spike of adrenaline through him. He looked up and his eyes widened. It was back.

  The tiger prowled towards his mum, a low growl rumbling in its throat. ‘It’s not real,’ he whispered to himself, but his certainty faded as it walked closer.

  ‘Mum!’ he yelled when it snaked around her chair. The whole cafe quietened, and everyone turned to look at him. Someone giggled and he realised he was spilling coffee on the floor. He straightened his hand.

  ‘Yes, darling?’ She smiled, tilting her head.

  Dylan stared, eyes wide as the cat walked a breath away from her.

  ‘Is something wrong, sweetie?’ She frowned.

  ‘Dylan?’ Cassandra said, touching his arm. He jumped. Wow, he’d forgotten she was there.

  ‘Would you mind covering for a minute?’ he asked her. ‘I think I need to sit down.’

  She nodded, but her forehead was creased with worry. She watched him for a moment, and then shook her head. ‘Go on.’ She turned to serve the next person in the queue.

  His mum was still staring at him. ‘What is happening to me,’ he muttered. Putting the cake and drink onto a tray, he carried it over and slid onto the seat opposite her.

  ‘What’s wrong, Dylan?’

  ‘Did you see anything strange a moment ago?’

  ‘Strange?’ Her forehead creased. ‘Well you were acting oddly. Is everything okay?’

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair. ‘I think I’m just overtired.’

  ‘Could you get a day off? Do something different? You could wander up to the zoo? Tabitha goes up there to sketch all the time. You might see her.’

  ‘Mum, are you stirring?’

  She smiled. ‘I thought you might like a chance to get to know her without Linden and GJ watching.’

  Dylan picked up her coffee and took a gulp, feeling it begin to light up his system. ‘I might do that, thank you. What will I do when I move away and you’re not there to give me a pep talk at breakfast?’

  Rachel’s jaw tightened, but she still smiled. ‘You’ll have to find your own coffee to drink. And you must have me learned by heart now. You won’t need me for much longer.’

  Dylan stood up and kissed her on the cheek ‘I won’t ever stop needing you, Mum.’

  He did the rounds, picking up dirty crockery from the other tables. He avoided the front counter where Linden and GJ stood in the queue. He didn’t have it in him to deal with them yet.

  ‘Excuse me.’ An unfamiliar voice brought him up short. He looked up to see an elegant woman dressed in black, a red and gold scarf arranged around her neck. Behind her, a man in beige chinos with a jumper slung around his shoulders stood tapping on his phone. ‘Could you tell me where Tara McLoughlin’s showroom is?’

  ‘Tara McLoughlin?’ Dylan frowned. ‘Never heard of her.’

  ‘She’s the one who sold that painting for an obscene amount of money,’ Cassandra said, from over his shoulder.

  The woman pursed her lips in disapproval, but the man grinned. ‘That’s her,’ he said, a note of pride in his voice.

  ‘You’ve got the wrong place,’ Cassandra said with a shrug. ‘There aren’t any artists here.’

  ‘Maybe you should become better informed.’ The woman sniffed, turned around and walked out. The man smirked, then followed.

  ‘What about Tabitha?’ Linden’s voice was loud. ‘Doesn’t your new crush have an art showroom?’

  Dylan turned to look at Linden. ‘Yeah, but her name’s Tabitha. These people were looking for Tara McLoughlin.’

  Linden shrugged. ‘I’m surprised you made it into work this morning, Dylan.’

  ‘Have you just come to torment me? Because I assure you it’s not necessary. My body is punishing me more than you ever could.’ Dylan looked around the crowded shop. ‘Coffee to go?’

  ‘Not a chance, tiger boy,’ Linden sa
id. ‘We’ll sit with your mum.’

  Dylan gave a curt nod. ‘Sit down. I’ll bring your drinks.’

  He took a deep breath and tried to let go of his boiling irritation. Sleep had done nothing to soothe his anger at Linden or GJ.

  He couldn’t blame them for all that was wrong with his life. It wasn’t their responsibility to make sure he lived his dreams, but they seemed to get in his way at every step and he was reaching the end of his patience. He watched them kiss his mum on the cheek, saw them chat and laugh with her, making her smile, bringing light into her eyes and a glow to her cheeks. She had clearly forgiven them for last night, but she was a better person than he was.

  He grunted, heading to the counter to pour out coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the tiger again, felt its growl deep in his own chest. He knew without looking that it was watching his friends and that it liked them even less than he did.

  ‘I hear you,’ he murmured under his breath. ‘Where do you go when you’re not here?’ The tiger backed away, knocking into a display of tourist pamphlets. And then it was gone. He walked over, bent down and picked up a leaflet that had fallen to the ground. Wildley Forest Zoo. ‘I think someone is trying to tell me something.’ He shoved the leaflet in his pocket. ‘Well, I could do with a day off.’

  6

  Max

  Max poked a stick through the bars of the tigers’ sleeping area, prodding the large male in the hindquarters.

  The cat tensed and growled. He withdrew the stick and the cat relaxed.

  ‘You don’t like that, do you?’ he said. ‘Ursula wouldn’t like it either. Did you know that? If you hadn’t been given to me, she might have been your keeper. You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?’ He laughed and prodded the cat again. This time the animal pawed the ground and dropped into a crouch, peeling its lips away from its huge, curved teeth. ‘That’s right. Act like a proper tiger. She would have you all tame like a house cat, but I know what’s best for you.’ He got up close to the bars, put his face near the tiger, and growled.

  The tiger put its ears back and swished its tail sharply from side to side.

  Max felt his heart rate rise. His blood pumped through his system, lighting his body up like a bulb. He let out a deep breath and chuckled. The tiger backed away, not taking its eyes off Max. ‘That’s it. Keep those wild instincts up and running.’

  The tiger growled, and then padded over to the locked door of its sleeping quarters.

  A shiver ran down Max’s spine. ‘She’s here isn’t she?’ he whispered. On a whim, he pulled the lever that allowed the enormous predator out into the enclosure. The cat turned to look at him, and then walked out through the door.

  Max went into the small bathroom to the side of the keeper’s space. He checked his reflection in the mirror from all angles, neatening his hair and pouting. ‘She’d be lucky to have you,’ he murmured to himself, pulling in his stomach and pumping up his biceps. ‘Anyone would be lucky to have a guy like you.’

  He nodded, let himself out of the keeper’s room and walked up the hill on one side of the enclosure towards her usual spot. She wasn’t there. He kept walking, looking around and peering through the enclosure.

  The large male was on the other side near the fence. He was sitting, looking at a woman; a woman in floaty, wide legged trousers, drawn in at the ankle. The cat and the woman just stared at each other, unmoving.

  ‘Not again.’ Max rolled his eyes. Tabitha gave those beasts far too much attention. He had thought she came to the enclosure to see him, but he was becoming less sure. Of late, she seemed far more interested in the cats than in him. He thought he had made it clear he was interested. He turned around and made his way back to the keeper’s room. He went to the fridge and got some chunks of meat. Dropping them through the bars into the cats’ sleeping quarters, he spread them out, and gave a sharp blow on his whistle. A moment later, the tigers streaked into the room, going straight for the meat. Shutting the door to the outside enclosure, he locked them in and then let himself out into the fresh air. He straightened his shirt, his gaze on Tabitha. No problem: he could be more direct.

  7

  Tabitha

  It was blustery, and Tabitha pulled her coat around her as she walked the empty path to the tiger enclosure. The wind whistled around her ears, and she slid on the mud. She heard the mournful cry of an exotic bird, followed by the rumbling grunt of a tiger. Reaching firm ground, she allowed her focus to drift, sinking into the sounds and scents of the zoo. She smelled the musk of a stable, the stench of manure and the tang of lunch being cooked in the cafe nearby. She almost went in for a coffee, but a growl caught her attention and pulled her straight to the heavy-mesh enclosure.

  ‘Well hello, tiger,’ she whispered, glad there was nobody else around. ‘Where’s your other half?’ She peered into the bushes, looking for the female that shared the space. The male tipped his head back and yawned. Tabitha sat on the bench and pulled out her sketch book. She drew fast, catching the lines of the teeth and the huge jaw.

  The sharp note of a whistle startled her and she looked up. The male was alert now, his focus trained on the bushes in front of the sleeping area. He stood up, stretched and then ran off in the direction of the sound.

  Tabitha walked around the outside of the tiger enclosure, making noises in her throat that normally called the cats out. The undergrowth was thick on one side. High trees with tall, bare trunks reached up to the sky, surrounded by thick bushes and tall ferns. The edges of the enclosure were more open with a pool, a shelter and a high platform, all of which were empty.

  Tabitha sighed. Her great plan only worked if she could find the tigers, but there was still benefit to be had in sketching the plants in the enclosure. Laying out a waterproof picnic blanket she settled down on the side of the hill that overlooked the tiger pool.

  It was always a few degrees colder in the zoo than anywhere else, so she zipped up her long, quilted coat and poured herself a mug of hot coffee from her thermos. She stared into the enclosure, calling to the tigers with her mind. Nothing happened. She opened her sketchpad and her hand began to move over the page. Giving herself over to the rhythm of her art, she allowed her consciousness to drift.

  She expected to find herself with the tigers, but instead she was in a cafe, looking into Dylan’s face. Damn, why had she turned up here? He looked alarmed. He could definitely see her. How was this possible? She had wondered at the nightclub, but he’d been so drunk it had been hard to tell.

  Wanting to give him space, she walked away.

  ‘Mum!’ The shout raised her hackles. She looked up and realised she was walking straight towards Rachel. Stopping in front of the woman’s chair, she tilted her head as she watched her new friend. Would Rachel see her as well? But the other woman didn’t show any signs of recognition or alarm. Tabitha relaxed.

  ‘Yes, darling?’ Rachel smiled at Dylan and tilted her head.

  Tabitha snaked past Rachel, focusing her attention on her human body back at the zoo, and willing herself back into consciousness.

  She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. That had been too close. She would have to be more careful in future. She looked at the sketch. Instead of the tigers she had planned to draw, there was a portrait of Dylan. Her breath caught as she looked at the lines of his face. Why did he fascinate her? What made him different?

  She turned the page, picked up her pencil and started drawing one of the tall, straight trees that rose out of the high enclosure, trying to hold her conscious attention on the lines of the branches and the high, straight trunk. She would not go back into trance. She would not go to Dylan again. The sun was shining and her focus wavered as her hand moved over the paper. She wondered where the tigers were. Surely it would be safe to search for them now?

  And then she was back in the cafe. How would she ever be able to draw if she travelled to Dylan every time she went into a trance? He was talking to his friends, but he didn’t seem happy. A growl vibrated
through her chest and she pulled herself into check. She wouldn’t let him see her this time.

  ‘I hear you.’ She felt the words form in the air around her. ‘Where do you go when you’re not here?’ She watched him. He seemed to be waiting for an answer from her, but she backed away, knocking into a display.

  ‘Who’s that?’ The voice was all wrong. It didn’t sound like Dylan. She looked around, but the room was already fading. ‘Who’s that?’ the voice repeated.

  Tabitha came back into full consciousness on the hill by the tiger enclosure. The sun had gone behind a cloud and she shivered. She looked up. Max stood over her, staring at her sketchbook. It didn’t matter how many times she told Max she visited the zoo to draw the cats, he was convinced she came to see him and wouldn’t leave her alone. She looked down. The portrait of Dylan was almost finished now. ‘It’s a friend.’

  ‘That’s Dylan.’

  Tabitha sighed and shut her sketchbook. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you know him?’

  ‘I saw him play last night.’

  Max snorted. ‘Oh, right. His trashy band.’

  ‘You know him?’ Tabitha asked.

  ‘Everyone does. Those guys have lorded it around Wildley Forest for as long as I can remember. I was at school with Dylan. He was a big fish in a small pond even then.’

  ‘I’ll take it as a compliment to my craft that you recognise him so clearly.’ Tabitha shoved her book into her bag. Where are the cats?’

  ‘They’re shut inside their sleeping quarters. Do you want to come and look? It will give you a new insight into what tigers are actually like.’

  Tabitha hesitated. Max gave her the creeps, but she really wanted to see the tigers. ‘Can I take pictures?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Tabitha pursed her lips.

  ‘You’ll be right up close,’ Max said with a smile.