Wild Shadow : A Sweet Paranormal Romance

by Martha Dunlop

  ‘Oh God, you’re still making it sound as though I’ve abandoned you all somehow. I’ve written a song. That doesn’t mean we’re not friends.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ GJ grabbed his coat from the back of an armchair. ‘Or maybe it’s the beginning of the end.’ He brushed something from his cheek, and then turned and went into his bedroom.

  There was silence.

  Dylan swallowed. He looked over at Linden, but the other man wouldn’t meet his gaze. Snapping his guitar into its case, he grabbed the music book and his coat, and headed for the door. He reached for the handle.

  ‘Dylan,’ Linden said from behind him.

  Dylan ignored him, jerked the door open and strode out of the flat before slamming it shut.

  Outside, the air was biting.

  Rage rolled through him as his legs pounded the pavement. It took hardly any time to reach his mum’s house. He let himself in with the key and collapsed onto the sofa. It was still warm and the last embers in the fire were glowing. He kicked off his boots, curled up on the soft cushions and drifted off to sleep.

  20

  Dylan

  Dylan was walking through the mists. He heard the crack of a twig and turned, but all he could see was a blanket of thick, white fog. ‘Is something out there?’ he said. Nothing.

  He kept walking but faster now. When he broke into the sunshine he let out a breath of relief and doubled over, leaning on his thighs to catch his breath.

  There was a yowl.

  Dylan turned.

  A tiger padded out of the fog, the golden yellow of its fur shining bright in the sunlight. It stopped, staring at him.

  Dylan held up his hands and moved slowly backwards. ‘It’s okay, I will leave you alone. Just let me go, please?’

  The tiger sat down and watched as he backed away, step by slow step.

  As the distance increased, Dylan started to breathe again. He was just about to turn when the tiger stood up and walked towards him.

  He started to run. The tiger kept pace, not getting closer, but not dropping behind.

  Dylan passed a fallen tree trunk that had been propped against a gate like a ramp. The tiger bounded up the trunk, and then paused at the top, eyeing him.

  Dylan froze. He swallowed.

  The cat bunched up its muscles, and leapt—

  ‘I have coffee for you.’ His mum’s voice cut through the dream.

  He forced his eyes open and swung his legs around, sitting up. ‘Thanks.’ His voice was unusually gravelly. Taking the cup, he sipped it, closing his eyes in appreciation.

  ‘What are you doing here, Dylan? Has something happened?’

  ‘I’ve fallen out with Linden. Can I stay here until I find a new place?’

  ‘Of course. Is that all?’

  ‘I have a new job.’

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Today.’ Dylan grinned and dug the letter out of his pocket. ‘At the zoo.’

  ‘You do?’ Her face lit up. ‘But you have no experience of working with animals!’

  ‘I know. I’ll be in the Playbarn, managing the people who look after the kids.’

  ‘And less experience with children,’ she said, but her eyes sparkled.

  ‘I manage Linden, don’t I?’ he asked. ‘Or at least I used to.’

  ‘But what about your music?’

  Dylan was silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share that he was composing, but he trusted his mum. ‘I’m writing music again.’

  ‘Dylan.’ Rachel opened her arms. ‘I’m so proud of you, darling.’

  ‘You are?’

  She nodded and hugged him.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the feeling of safety to wash over him.

  21

  Tabitha

  Tabitha stood in the middle of her new gallery and spun around, her arms out wide on either side of her. She had done it. It was her own. She was in control of her future at last. Walking over to the door with a huge smile on her face, she turned the sign in the window to ‘open’. Allowing the nerves to prickle through her, she went to sit behind her easel, picking up her paintbrush.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centring herself into the feeling of the tiger that was emerging on her page. There was a sketch in the book to her left, but she focused on the picture that was forming in her mind. She could see a tiger stalking through the trees, growling. The wind was blustery and the tall trees inside the zoo enclosure swayed as the tiger snaked past the base of first one, and then another. Tabitha shivered with foreboding, but she couldn’t see any danger. She focused more, allowing her astral body to solidify into tiger form so she could walk alongside the powerful beast. She grunted and the tiger responded, comfortable with her familiar presence.

  She reached her awareness out further, looking for the cause of the energetic disturbance, but there was nothing. Then the sky began to grow dark. The wind became stronger and the tigers started yowling. There was a rumble of thunder. The rain was coming down in sheets now and she could only see a foot or so in front of her nose. Where had this storm come from? Dread settled in the pit of her stomach, and then spread throughout her powerful body. She roared as the tree next to her creaked and groaned.

  The tree tilted so slowly it took her a moment to realise what was happening. The creaking intensified as the tree was blown harder and harder. There was a loud crack. The tiger roared. For a moment there was silence, and then the tree began to fall. It bounced once as it hit the top of the enclosure on the side of the hill, but then it rested. Both tigers were there now, prowling the base of the tree, testing the wood with their paws. Tabitha walked in circles, trying to keep them away, but her astral body was thinning. The large tiger put one foot on the trunk and roared.

  Tabitha gasped. Her eyes flew open and she clutched the side of her stool so hard her knuckles turned white. She could still feel the bite of the cold air, the lash of the rain and the excitement of the cats as their enclosure was breached.

  It was bright outside the shop window. The sky above Wildley Forest was a clear blue, far brighter than they deserved on a mid-November day. What would lead Tabitha to dream up such a storm? She reached out her awareness to the tigers and couldn’t pick up any distress. So where had she been? Where had that dream come from? And did it mean anything real?

  She looked at the picture in front of her. A tall tree had fallen against the top of the fence around the tiger enclosure. Dark, ominous clouds filled the page.

  She went into the back, and then put the kettle on and lit a candle. There was a bag of white sage smudging sticks on the windowsill, and she pulled out a twig, lit it, blew out the flame, and then breathed in the distinctive, musky scent of the smoke. She walked around the shop, wafting the sage into every corner, clearing any residual fear from her vision.

  The bell on the door tinkled. ‘Hello, is anyone here?’ Max stood in the wide-open doorway, looking around. ‘Urgh, what is that smell?’ he said, waving a hand in front of his nose.

  Tabitha sighed. ‘What are you doing here?’ She walked out to the back and put the sage stick on a plate by the open window. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’

  ‘I swapped shifts. There’s supposed to be a storm and that can make the cats agitated. I’m going to go over later. Wanna join me?’

  Tabitha shook her head. ‘I have plans for this evening.’

  ‘Cancel them. The cats need you. I need you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. The cats will be fine.’ Tabitha sat behind her easel and shut the sketchpad. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want Max seeing that particular picture.

  Max walked over to her, ‘Tabitha, you do something to the tigers. I don’t know what it is, but they’re different when you’re there. I need you.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks, Max. But I’m busy. I have a list of commissions to fulfil and a shop to run.’

  ‘This place? You can’t make much selling paintings and birthday cards. I coul
d talk to Sophie about selling your pictures in the shop. They could promote you as real home-grown talent.’

  ‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary.’

  Max scowled. ‘I’m just trying to help.’

  Tabitha sighed. ‘I don’t need your help, Max. I have a global audience, collectors constantly after originals, and I sell a lot of prints on my website.’

  Max peered at a painting of a tiger mid-leap. It was impressionistic, with broad brushstrokes of orange, red and gold. ‘Maybe I’ll buy one. This one.’

  ‘You can’t afford it.’

  Max bristled. ‘How much is it?’

  ‘That one is ten thousand pounds.’ Tabitha kept her voice flat.

  Max had a coughing fit. When he calmed down he was red faced. ‘You’ll never sell it at that price. It’s tiny.’

  ‘I’ve already sold it. It’s waiting to be packaged up and couriered.’

  Max’s face turned an even darker red. He cleared his throat. ‘What are you working on now?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Max, but I don’t have time to chat.’

  ‘Oh come on, where’s the harm?’ He reached for the sketchbook on her easel.

  Tabitha realised what he was doing too late. He grabbed the book and she lurched forwards, snatching at it. He swung it up high, holding it above her head as she tried to reach it.

  ‘For God’s sake, Max, give it back.’

  Keeping it high above his head, he flicked through to find the last page used, and then turned his back on her and brought it down so he could look.

  Tabitha slumped back on her chair.

  Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. ‘You planning on breaking the tigers out?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then why draw that?’ he asked, pointing. His finger slid across the page, smudging the tiger.

  Tabitha slammed her pencil down. ‘What exactly do you want, Max?’

  ‘I’m just trying to be a friend,’ he said. ‘You are new here, after all.’

  Tabitha sighed. ‘Thank you, Max, but I don’t need feedback on my work. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Everyone needs feedback though, right?’ He grinned.

  ‘Do you?’ Tabitha raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you need feedback on your work, Max?’

  He flushed. A vein throbbed in his forehead.

  Emily hissed at him. Her body fluffed out and her tail rose right up behind her as she crouched low and hissed again.

  ‘Easy, tiger.’ Max sneered.

  The distraction broke his focus on Tabitha. He moved towards Emily, ducking fast to reach down and grab her. ‘Aren’t you the feisty one,’ he said, holding her at arm’s length. ‘Just like your mama. I wonder how you’d fare against the tigers, eh? I bet you wouldn’t be so fierce then, would you?’

  ‘Give her to me.’ Tabitha stood up and grabbed the cat from him. ‘If anything happens to her, if she ends up anywhere near those tigers, I will come after you. I know how you treat those poor animals. I won’t have that behaviour anywhere near my cat, or my home.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Max held up his hands. ‘But just so you know, your attempt to sabotage me won’t work.’

  ‘My attempt to what?’

  ‘You told someone you were worried about the tigers. Who was it? Did you go straight to Sophie, or were you talking to Ursula?’

  ‘And what if I did tell someone?’

  His jaw was tight and he was breathing heavily. ‘I’d hate for you to jeopardise your access to the cats. I’ve given you something special. Don’t throw it away.’

  There was a long moment of tense silence.

  The front door slammed open with a bang, the glass rattling in the frame. Linden stood in the doorway. He glanced from her to Max.

  ‘Look who it is!’ Linden crowed. ‘It’s scrawny Max gone all brawny!’

  Max turned chalk white then a flush began from his collar line.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Tabitha asked.

  Max cowered, his face bright red now. Tabitha wondered whether he knew he was wringing his hands.

  Tabitha got up. She was tired of men, and these two in particular. She walked over to the door and opened it. ‘Get out.’

  ‘You heard the lady,’ Linden said.

  She looked Linden in the eye. ‘You too.’

  ‘You don’t scare me,’ Linden said.

  ‘More fool you. I have more power in every cell of my body than you will ever have.’

  Linden stared at her, open mouthed. ‘Fine. I just came to tell you to stop messing with my boy, Dylan.’

  ‘If he wants me to stay away from him, he can tell me himself.’

  ‘I’m telling you.’

  ‘Out.’ Tabitha’s voice was as quiet as a purr, but it had all the menace of a predator. Her heart soared as her tiger form shimmered into existence, prowling around the legs of the men in front of her, but she resisted the temptation to make it visible. The cat stopped in front of them, bared its teeth and growled.

  Linden shuddered.

  Max looked around him and scratched at his head. He rolled his shoulders as though dispelling a nasty dream.

  The cat stalked, circling around the men.

  Linden’s head whipped to the side. ‘Is something there? I thought I saw …’

  ‘… out of the corner of my eye,’ Max finished.

  ‘And do you see anything now?’ Tabitha tilted her head and watched them, not blinking.

  ‘No,’ Max’s voice was more hesitant than she had ever heard it.

  Linden gave his head an abrupt shake. ‘Got to go,’ he said, swinging the door open, and jumping down the step. ‘See you.’

  Max followed him out but paused on the step. ‘See you at the zoo?’

  Tabitha gave a strained smile. ‘Of course. I’ll be back to draw tomorrow, as always.’

  His shoulders relaxed. He turned and walked down the path, waving as he went out onto the street.

  She closed and locked the door behind them. ‘What have I got myself into,’ she murmured, sitting down behind her easel. Wildley Forest was supposed to be a quiet, contemplative place for her to create. Instead it was one drama after another.

  She tried to send her awareness back to the tigers, but her mind wouldn’t go that way. Instead she felt herself pulled towards the cafe in town. She sensed Dylan before she saw him. Prickles ran down one side of her body, calling her to turn in that direction. He was standing at the counter in the cafe, talking to a woman. She looked stunned, and then forced herself to smile and pulled Dylan into a hug that make Tabitha wince. She felt a tingle as the fur on her astral body stood up, felt her tail swish from side to side and a grumble from her chest. She snaked through the people, barely touching them, knowing that in her astral state she was not solid enough for anyone apart from Dylan to notice her.

  Dylan was emotional. She could sense the pull of his energetic field fluctuating, sending out wave after wave of watery energy. She yowled at the discomfort coming from him, not able to identify a reason for it. He was in no danger. There was nothing that claws or teeth could solve. There was only the turmoil of a man on the verge of change. She wondered how long it would take him to embrace that change? Would it be fast enough for her, or would she miss the transformation? It all depended on how long she was able to stay in this community. She had been driven away before. Environments became too toxic for her to create in. People didn’t understand her or her need for freedom and authenticity. They didn’t understand that she wouldn’t play the game in order to satisfy their pointless rules, or that she refused to make herself small and powerless. They didn’t understand that she was a woman deep in her own power, a woman who knew how to access the depth of her own being, who knew how to tap into the mysteries of the world. As the tiger, she knew.

  In her physical body, her fingers sketched while she watched him, the picture of Dylan springing from the page in vivid charcoal. His turmoil bled from every stroke as she poured her heart into expressing
this moment in time that she didn’t yet understand. Every moment of pain she helped him carry was a burden that weighed on her. She had learned to separate her energy from others when she travelled in tiger form. She had become an expert in protecting herself and moving right past other people’s sadness, but with Dylan it was different. With Dylan the pull was so strong that his feelings dragged her into connection in a way she couldn’t resist.

  She watched him walk out of the cafe and stop on the street. He looked sad.

  The tiger growled.

  Dylan turned around. ‘Hey, you,’ he whispered so low that only she could hear. ‘I wondered when you’d show up again.’

  She walked over to him and rubbed her giant head against his leg. She knew he felt her fur, knew he felt the weight and pressure of her head, and she knew from his trembling that it meant something to him.

  22

  Tabitha

  Tabitha stared at the pictures. One canvas and a sketch sat in front of her on the easel. The canvas was a vivid painting of a tiger standing on a fallen tree trunk and looking over the top of its enclosure boundary, ready to jump. The other was a charcoal image of Dylan.

  The tiger was unsettling. Tabitha wished she knew how to drop back into the dream, but she could only travel at will in present time and she had no idea whether that other vision was a fantasy or some time in the future.

  She stood up. The room span slightly and she gripped the side of the table. Putting away her paints, she went through to the kitchen, grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and ate it in a few bites. She gulped down a glass of water and focused on the feel of the solid floor under her feet, calling herself fully back into the present. She looked over at Emily. ‘I know, I know. Time I got some fresh air. If I go now, I might be home before Max even gets into work.’

  The fresh air called her back to earth as she walked along the main street out of Wildley Forest Village. The barn owl that lived on the tree outside her house screeched and she cooed back to it, waving her hand. Orange leaves blew along the path, swirling around her ankles. Maybe the cold was finally on the way. Autumn had been holding off, letting the sunshine stream in even though it was mid-November.