Lion Hearts Tiger

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Lion Hearts Tiger Page 2

by V. Vaughn


  Lexi glances at me, her eyes wild with panic as she gets what I was trying to tell her. She doesn’t want to be a lab rat any more than I’d like her to be. I pat her arm and wink at her as I speak in the most normal voice I can muster. “You see? You’re going to be fine.”

  “I’ll send in a nurse to take more blood. I have so many things I want to test.” The doctor nods to me, and I can practically see him imagining flashing cameras and a microphone in front of his mouth as he basks in the glory of his medical findings. Thank god he leaves the room before my tiger tries to scratch his greedy eyes out.

  The second he’s gone I lower the rails on the bed and speak in a low voice I know Lexi can hear with her powerful lion ears. “We probably have ten minutes tops to get the hell out of here.”

  My heart pounds against my chest. I can’t let her stay here any longer. She’s not fighting me, but I need to be absolutely sure Lexi is on board with my plan for her escape. I say, “Did you see Dr. Hamlin’s excitement? He can’t wait to turn you into a science experiment. He and his colleagues will perform test after test, and then when they find out what you are, they will take you to the government for more. I won’t let that happen to you.” My tiger lets out a low growl “Ever.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on.” Lexi’s voice wavers, but she lifts her arms so I can finish removing the leads on her skin. “Please—"

  “I know.” I help her get out of the bed, and she stands on steady feet. “You were in a car accident about six days ago. It was probably because of the storm.” I stop, my gut roiling, guilt seizing me hard. I grip her hand tightly. “We have to leave, Lexi. I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here. I promise.” I sense she’s still hesitant, and I hammer home the danger. “The doctors will turn you into a pin cushion if we stay. They will poke and prod at you for the rest of your life. And you will die in captivity.”

  Tears roll down her cheeks. I wipe them away with my thumb as my heart aches, imagining the loss of her. “You’re my mate, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I lightly trace the outside of her ear with my finger. I nuzzle my knuckles behind her ear, right under her jawline against her scent glands. It’s something I’ve always done. As big cats, that’s where we rub against each other in greeting and to express our love. I don’t know how else to let her know how much she means to me. I don’t know how to break through the fog of her memory to remind her of who she is.

  Chapter 3

  LEXI

  I lean into Tristan’s hand, comforted by his touch, and instinctively I want to rub against his knuckles like I’m a pet, but I refrain. It’s weird to think that I even want to or that the thought crossed my mind. Despite that, I’m now sure I can trust this man. I can’t explain it. I don’t understand anything that’s happening right now, but I have a choice to make, and leaving with Tristan seems like the right one. That doctor did seem a little too eager to take more of my blood.

  Tristan. I roll his name around in my head over and over, trying to find the place in my memory where it belongs. But I come up against a wall, and my frustration makes me want to curl my hand into a fist and hit something.

  “You can feel our connection, can’t you?” he asks, an eagerness in his voice. “It’s there when I touch you. I know it is. I know deep down you sense that we’re mated together.”

  I frown at his choice of words. Mated? What, is he Australian? Can’t be. I don’t hear an accent in either of our voices, or from the doctor or nurse, for that matter. It’s just an odd choice of words to use.

  Frustration makes me pull away from him, and he drops his hand. I see the pain and disappointment in his beautiful green eyes, but I can’t help what I feel. I desperately want to know him, to trust him, but…

  My head aches again, as if it’s being squeezed in a vice, and each time I try to remember anything it’s like a turn of the rod crushing my brain. I’m confused, I don’t know what to think or feel.

  He continues to search the room for clothes. “I don’t know why they don’t have your clothes. Maybe they had to cut them off you.” He comes back to where I’m standing. “Can you move? The doctor said you broke so many things…” He looks haunted by this.

  I lift my arm and twist it side to side. There is some ache, but nothing that would indicate that I’d broken anything. I lift my foot off the ground and find the same thing. There’s some throbbing, but no real pain. Either they gave me some amazing drugs or I’m not as injured as they said I am. None of this makes any sense.

  “I feel fine. A little stiff, but shouldn’t I feel worse if I broke all those bones?”

  “He said you’re healing faster than normal, right?”

  The doctor called me a super healer. I nod.

  “It’s because of what you are. What I am. Which is why we need to get out of here ASAP.” He glances around the room, a little frantic now. “I’ll have to go find some clothes for you.” He looks at me while he chews his bottom lip, thinking. “I’m sure I can find something in an employee closet or another patient’s room.”

  Doubt about leaving returns. I’m in a hospital, for Pete’s sake. What better place is there for me to be, especially since I’ve been injured? They’ll help me here. I don’t understand why he keeps saying I’m in danger. Even if I’m different like he says I am, which I’m struggling to understand or believe, medical professionals have a duty to help me. I flash to the claws I had earlier. But they couldn’t have been real. Probably a hallucination. If I’m not of sound mind, I really should stay. No doctor is going to hurt me. It would go against their Hippocratic Oath.

  I look at the door where Tristan just walked out, trying to piece him into my life. He’s desperate to get me out of here and away from some perceived danger. They want to make me a lab rat? That’s crazy talk, but I am the one who saw claws where my fingers should be, so…

  Okay. Logic. I need logic. Tristan must be a friend or a relative because the nurses and doctors wouldn’t have let him into my room. But is he safe?

  He’s safe.

  What? Who said that? My gaze sweeps the room, but there isn’t anyone else in the room. Just me.

  You can trust him.

  The voice comes again, and I realize, with a sense of doom, that it’s in my head.

  Perfect. It’s confirmed. I’m the crazy one.

  Chapter 4

  TRISTAN

  I glance at the clock on the wall of the empty room I entered, searching for something Lexi can wear as we leave. We don’t have much time. A nurse or the doctor will be back to see her soon, and I have to convince Lexi to go with me before then. Kicking and screaming if necessary, because I’m going to have to haul her out of here before they figure out what she really is. I really don’t want to do it that way, though, since it will just draw more attention to us.

  Our shifter society has been able to thrive because we keep to ourselves and off the radar of a few curious humans. Risking exposure is risking everything. The fact that Lexi is in this hospital is cause for concern alone. Who knows what kinds of questions it’s going to incite in the doctors and nurses here?

  When I find nothing in the empty room, I try the next one. I peer inside to discover there’s an elderly man sleeping in the bed, and no one else is around. I sneak inside, open the patient closet, and find a blue button-down shirt hanging up with a pair of gray trousers. They’ll have to do because there isn’t any other option right now. I glance at the man and whisper, “Sorry, buddy.” I hope he has family who can bring him something else to wear as I snag the clothing and return to Lexi.

  She sat back down on the bed while I was gone, and she looks up when I enter. I set the clothes down next to her, and I grab Lexi’s face in my hands. I have to convince her to leave with me somehow, and I level my eyes with hers. I need to make a connection with her. I need her to remember something about us. “I know this is all confusing and you don’t know what’s going on, but you have to trust me, Lexi. You c
an’t stay here. You need to let me take you out of here.”

  I can see the war going on in her eyes. It’s written all over her face as she frowns. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. Fear wafts off her, and I can smell it. But there’s also curiosity. She wants to know more. She wants to know who she is, who I am, and what happened to her. I can help her with that. I just have to prove it to her.

  She shakes her head, and I drop my hands. “I want to trust you, Tristan. I feel like I can. But—"

  It’s the first time she’s used my name, and it gives me hope.

  “But how do I know you aren’t some lunatic?”

  An idea comes to me, and I reach for my wallet in my back pocket and pull it out. I take out a photo of us kissing under a huge pine tree. We were out on a picnic that day, and I had a promotional Polaroid-type camera I’d gotten at a trade show I’d attended for my graphic design business. I took a picture of us together to remember the joy of the day. I hand it to her.

  “That’s us at our favorite spot. It’s in a little valley not far from my house where you have stayed many times.”

  She looks at the photo, her brow furrowing. “It’s a pretty picture, but I just can’t believe that’s me. I hate the outdoors.”

  “What? No, you don’t. You’re a lion, for god’s sake. You love it.”

  She hands the photo back to me. “I don’t know. The thought of being out in the woods…” She shudders. “Bugs and snakes—no way.”

  Wow. She’s really messed up. I say, “Okay. We won’t go outside. Let me take you home where you’ll be safe.” I’m grasping at straws and say, “You said yourself you don’t feel like you have broken bones, so why are they keeping you?”

  She scowls at me and doesn’t look convinced, but I have to press. “Don’t you want to remember who you are?” I stare directly into her eyes, willing her to let me help her. To allow me to show her everything she’s forgotten. “I’m the only one who can help you with that.”

  She swallows and then gives a little nod. “Okay.”

  I let out of sigh of relief before I get busy.

  Lexi’s feet dangle a few inches from the floor because of the raised bed. With her usually shiny dark hair in disarray and the baggy hospital gown she’s wearing, she looks like a little girl sitting there as if she just woke from a bad dream. I want to cuddle her close and kiss away all her fears, but there isn’t time for that now.

  I hand her the clothes. “You’ll need to change.”

  She looks at the shirt and pants and gives me a look and asks, “Really?” I smile because it’s a look she’s given me countless times, and it fills me with joy to see that it’s still there inside her.

  I shrug. “It’s the best I can do right now.”

  She slowly slides down the bed to put her bare feet onto the floor. “Turn around so I can change.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I swivel around and wait, concerned when she makes a few grunting noises as she takes off the gown and puts on the shirt. I imagine her body is extremely sore from the accident and being in this bed for seven long days.

  “I’m dressed.”

  I turn around to see her swimming in the man’s clothes. She’s always been trim, but it looks like she’s lost weight. I imagine I could pick her up with one arm and carry her out of here.

  “Okay, wait one second.” I rush out into the corridor again to find a wheelchair. There’s one parked along the wall, and I grab it to roll it into her room.

  She sits in it, and I tuck a blanket around her lap. It’ll look like I’m just taking her out for a stroll. I back up into the corridor casually and check both ways to make sure no one is looking. All the nurses are at the triage desk chatting and laughing about something, which is good for us. I wheel Lexi out and head to the elevators.

  I’m holding my breath as I push the button and wait. “C’mon, C’mon,” I chant in a whisper.

  Finally, there’s a ding, and the elevator doors open. A few people walk out, and I wheel Lexi inside. The doors whoosh shut, and then my tiger and I let out a soft purr of relief.

  Chapter 5

  LEXI

  After Tristan gets me settled in the passenger side of his SUV, which is parked in visitor parking, he hands me a quilted blanket to help me with the chill. I’ve been shaking since he wheeled me out of the hospital. He climbs under the wheel and drives us out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

  The blanket is a pleasing mix of brightly-colored flower-print fabrics and I run my fingers over it.

  “You made that,” he says.

  “Really?” I place my hand on top of it as flashes of images fill my mind. Me sitting at a sewing machine then hand stitching the edges. I smile. Although I can’t remember who I am or who Tristan is, I remember what an SUV is, and how to buckle up a seatbelt, and who the president of the United States is. Maybe everything isn’t lost. I glance at him again. Maybe just the important things.

  He drives us out of the small town and deeper into the mountains. I watch out the window as we get higher and higher and the trees on both sides of the road begin to grow more thickly together. The sun finishes its decent into the horizon, and a gloom settles over the area. I shiver again. I don’t like it. It feels claustrophobic, as if the trees themselves are reaching for me as we drive by.

  I glance at Tristan and wonder again if I’ve made the right decision leaving the hospital with him. My gut tells me to trust him, but what if my gut is wrong? What if he’s some serial killer? Although logic tells me he’s not, since he did have a photo of us together. But those things can be faked, can’t they? Photoshop is a powerful tool. Maybe he’s a stalker I tried to get away from, and he followed me and now I’m in danger. Jeez, I sure didn’t lose my imagination, because I’m coming up with great movie plots. But... maybe when we stop, I should make a run for it and make my way back to the hospital.

  He takes the SUV up a winding road deep into the woods. I don’t know how high we’ve climbed, but I can feel the change in altitude by the way air doesn’t quite fill my lungs. Finally, we turn off the main road and drive down a long, twisting driveway into a bit of a clearing. He parks in front of a cute, wood cabin. The headlights of his car illuminate flowers in window boxes and a porch with two rocking chairs on it. It’s so quaint and picturesque. I wonder if I’ve sat in one of those rockers, sipping on something cold and taking in the view. I don’t recall being here before, but you’d think I would since it’s so distinctive.

  Tristan gets out of the SUV and comes around to open the door for me. I tense up, and my gaze darts to the nearby copse of trees. The second he opens the door I could sprint to those trees. But then the thought of running in the dark through that thick foliage makes me shiver again. I’d get lost, and then where would I be? I’d be a lot worse off than I am now.

  I’ll stay. At least I’ll be somewhere warm, and he’ll probably feed me. My belly clenches just thinking about food. I can’t remember the last meal I’ve eaten. It had to have been about a week now, since I was probably in the hospital and unconscious for that long.

  He opens the door and helps me out. The second I step out onto the ground the chill in the air bites at me. I know its summer since there are petunias in the window boxes, but it’s much cooler up on the mountain. I wrap my arms around my body to protect the heat from escaping. An owl hoots from a nearby tree, and it makes me jump.

  Why didn’t he take me to the city? Why did we have to come here where it’s all dark and creepy, and unfamiliar, doing nothing to dissuade my evil movie-plot theories? There’s no way I would like it here. He’s clearly wrong about that supposed ‘favorite spot’ of mine being under a pine tree compared to the safety of something like a crowded restaurant.

  The air is damp and full of the scents of nature. The aromas of dirt, leaves, pine needles, and itchy, filthy things I have no desire to touch invade my senses. I inhale deeply and smell another odor that I can’t identify, and it’s a weird mixture that k
ind of smells good. I have to admit the scents are much better than the alcohol, urine, and bleach combination of the hospital. Maybe it’s the fact that the air here is so crisp and clean, not like it is in Los Angeles.

  Wait. I’ve been to Los Angeles? I must’ve. “I think I remembered something.”

  Tristan looks at me, excitement on his face. “Do you remember this place? You remember your home?”

  “No, but I think I’ve been to Los Angeles. Have I?”

  He nods, but his face falls. “Yes, years ago. You are originally from California. You moved to the area about four years ago.” He gestures to the cabin. “C’mon, let’s get you inside and get you warm.”

  Still unsure I should be here but with no other options, I follow him up the three steps to the porch then through the front door that he holds open for me. It’s dark inside, but he flicks on the light, flooding the small space with yellow warmth. I look around and take in the cozy front room with the giant fireplace and the small but quaint kitchen to the left. It’s rustic but homey, with splashes of color in the pillows on the sofa and the blue painted cupboards. I like the blue. I feel like it’s something I would pick.

  “It’s pretty,” I say as I look around.

  “It’s all you. You put the best touches in every room. You painted the kitchen cupboards, too. I wasn’t so sure about the color, but it really brightened up the place.”

  He locks the door behind us, and I jump again. He looks at me with such sadness it breaks my heart. I feel bad that I don’t remember him. He clearly wants me to. I wish I could tell him that I will eventually, but I don’t know if that’s true. I don’t know if I’ll ever get my memory back. And that scares the crap out of me.

  Chapter 6

  TRISTAN

 

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