by Terra Wolf
Meleche eyed his pistol and the rifle for a half-second before dropping the handgun and running for the front door. Zinsa watched him go, realizing the other soldier posted to guard the door had already taken off.
A blur of motion drew her eyes, and she turned her head in time to see the tiger leap on Natufa, knocking him to the floor. The tiger roared in the man’s face before clamping his jaws around Natufa’s neck. In seconds, the man convulsed in the throes of death, and scarlet blood stained the tiger’s white muzzle.
When the animal climbed off Natufa’s still body, it turned to stare at Zinsa. Fear flickered through her, but died when she looked into the creature’s green eyes, an unusual shade for a tiger, she thought. Immediately, a sense of calm filled her, though she couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was because any hint of bloodlust disappeared from the tiger, or maybe because the eyes seemed uncommonly intelligent.
Her brow furrowed with confusion, and her eyes wandered over the tiger. Her frown deepened when she saw a wound on the tiger’s shoulder. At first, she assumed it had been shot when Natufa’s gun discharged, but leaning closer, she saw it was a puncture wound, and several hours old.
Zinsa reached out a hand to the tiger, not sure what compelled her to do so, other than the desire to keep it near until Grant could treat it.
Where was Grant? He hadn’t returned from checking on the impalas. Was he safe?
Had the soldiers found him, hurt him maybe?
Had he turned into a tiger and saved her life?
A sharp laugh escaped Zinsa, and she wondered where the notion came from. Again, her eyes locked on the tiger’s, and she gasped upon realizing why the green eyes were so calming. They belonged to her lover. Somehow, Grant was before her in the form of a tiger.
The idea was insane, but she couldn’t doubt the proof in front of her. Those were Grant’s eyes on the tiger. It seemed impossible the color could naturally evolve in a white tiger, especially one that just happened to come to her rescue. She cast her mind for a more logical explanation, but came up with nothing. The harder she tried to find an alternative rationalization, the more it made sense that he had to be the tiger. It explained so much.
She might have stared at him all day if Kumi hadn’t distracted her. He had picked up Meleche’s handgun and was easing toward her slowly.
“Stay still, Dr. Zinsa. I will shoot it.”
“No.” In a panic, she got to her feet, blocking Grant with her body. Zinsa struggled to calm down, making her voice soothing as she reached for the pistol. “It’s all right. I know this tiger. He lives here on the preserve.” She held out her hand, silently requesting the gun.
Appearing uncertain, Kumi handed it to her, his fear-filled eyes not straying from Grant. With relief, Zinsa tucked the pistol into the pocket of her shorts to remove it from the boy’s sight and from Grant’s. Then she turned back to the tiger, hoping he knew who she was in this form and could understand her. “Good boy. Go lie down.” She jerked her head in the direction of the bedroom. “Grant is in the bedroom. He’ll be looking for you.”
After a second’s hesitation, the tiger appeared to nod. His motions were unhurried and graceful as he walked from the room, headed in the direction of the bedroom. With any hope, Grant would soon return to his human form and join them before anyone could try to track down the tiger.
Once he was out of sight, Zinsa took the gun from her pocket and tossed it on the floor. Turning to Kumi, she put a hand on his shoulder. “Will you find Manu for me? He will be in one of the buildings in the complex. Tell him…say Zinsa needs him at the clinic.”
As Kumi ran out of the clinic, skirting the bodies in his path, she turned to her patients, visually confirming they were well before walking over to Armani. Exhaustion seemed to creep over her, and a mind-numbing haze was protecting her from having to deal with the truth of what Grant was. As she lost herself in the process of first treating Amani’s cuts and abrasions, then in explaining the events to Manu and deciding how to proceed, one thought lingered with her. Grant had one hell of an excuse for trying to keep her at arm’s length. She just had to decide if she could deal with what she had learned, or if she would withdraw as well.
Seven
Grant awakened on his own bed, naked as the day of his birth, with his head fuzzy. A copper taste lingered in his mouth, remnants of a hunt he couldn’t remember. Vague images came to him, chief among them Zinsa staring at him, speaking to him in a soothing tone, but smelling of fear. How much had really happened, and how much was a product of his mind, produced during the time his human side was repressed?
He rose from the bed, intent on finding Zinsa and trying to recapture memories of the missing time from when the Land Rover’s radiator exploded, necessitating that he walk back to the complex, and waking up on his bed. By concentrating, he was able to remember approaching the clinic, but everything beyond that was hazy. Had there really been men in uniforms?
Teeth gritted with frustration, he once again cursed the unique ability thrust upon him the day the shaman saved his life by binding his essence with the tiger’s. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he was either fully animal or fully human during his transformations, instead of living in this hybrid state, always fighting against the beast, inevitably losing, and having little or no memory of events that transpired while he was in tiger form.
As Grant padded to the dresser to retrieve clothes, he heard footsteps coming down the hall. By the time the door opened, he had recognized the gait as Zinsa’s, even without her scent wafting to him. He froze in the act of reaching for boxer-briefs when she stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind her. The moment her eyes met his, he realized she knew what he was.
His heart thundered in his ears, and he forgot about clothing himself. Instead, he had to use all his will power to rein in the impulse to go to Zinsa and beg her to accept him. “What happened?”
She must have thought he had some recollection of the events, because she said, “After you came back to the bedroom, I sent Kumi for Manu. He and the other rangers loaded the soldiers into a truck and took them off the preserve. I think they were going to drop the bodies somewhere for the military to find.”
He nodded, at a loss for words. How many had he killed? Searching his memory produced a picture of a large black man who had been hurting Zinsa. Grant had the sense he had done what was necessary, but was thankful most of the incident would remain buried in his subconscious mind.
“How do you feel?”
Grant’s eyes widened at the question, which wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. “Fuzzy. I don’t remember much.” Why bother with pretenses? The time for pretending he was normal had passed, just as he’d feared it would. This was why he had avoided getting too close to any woman in the past, and none of the women he had known before had made him lose control the way she did.
The ghost of a smile drifted across her face. “Lucky you.” Zinsa cleared her throat. “I meant your shoulder. It looks like you tore it open again during the…what happened.”
Reflexively, he looked down, finding the bandage he had worn that morning missing. The stitches had loosened, and dried blood smeared his skin. Upon seeing it, fire flared in his shoulder, and he touched it without thought. “It hurts.”
“Let me see.”
She didn’t appear frightened when she walked to him, taking his hand to lead him to the bed, but he could smell her trepidation, just under the surface. It wasn’t the sharp aroma of life-threatening terror, instead having the bitter tang of old anxiety. It pained him to know she had feared him, even for a moment.
Her hands were gentle when she leaned him back to examine his shoulder. After a moment of careful prodding, she released him, standing awkwardly before him, as if not certain where to place her hands. “I think you’ll be fine. I doubt the stitches will need to be replaced.”
“Good.” The stilted conversation was killing him, one syllable at a time. The politeness of strangers shouldn’t b
e what they shared, not after their amazing lovemaking. Dreading her rejection, he reached out for her hands, clasping them in his. Zinsa didn’t resist, but she didn’t leap forward onto his lap either. “I’m sorry.”
Her brow arched. “For what?”
“However you found out, it shouldn’t have been like that.” He dropped his head, unable to meet her clear brown eyes. “I hoped you wouldn’t find out at all, but that was wishful thinking. I should have told you.”
Her fingers seemed hesitant as they delved into his hair, lightly caressing his forehead. “How did this happen?”
“Do you remember asking me how I could have survived being mauled by the tiger?” When she nodded, he said, “I wouldn’t have if the village shaman hadn’t performed a ritual drawing on the essence of the tiger. Her strength became mine, and I healed.” Grant shook his head. “That wasn’t the only thing I inherited from her. I guess the shaman couldn’t bind our essences without some mingling occurring.” A half-smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I’ve often wondered if the tiger had the ability to change to a human after that.”
“Who else knows?”
He shrugged. “My parents, of course. I’m the reason they’ve stayed in Africa all these years. They couldn’t risk taking me back to a place where tigers aren’t likely to be strolling around freely. Especially as a child and teenager, I couldn’t control the transformation. Any time my emotions got out of control, I changed.”
To his surprise, a wide smile lit her face. “Is that why you’ve held back when we’ve made love? It was because you feared losing control, not because you didn’t want to have a deeper connection with me? Not because you didn’t want me?”
Seeing the worry in her eyes made his heart ache anew, to know he had caused her to doubt herself. With a sigh, he drew her closer to him, happy when she didn’t resist his embrace as he released her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You make me lose control in a way no one else ever has, Zinsa. I wasn’t running from you, just myself.” He couldn’t hide the note of sadness in his tone when he said, “I’ve been doing that for thirty years.”
Her arms came around his back, squeezing gently. “Stop running.”
Grant rested his cheek on her stomach, conscious of the heat of her skin through the thin T-shirt. “I want to, but can’t.”
“Why not?”
“What if I can’t change back? What if I surrender to the animal inside completely?” He swallowed, finding it difficult to voice his most private vulnerabilities. “What if I hurt you?”
She took a step back, tipping up his chin with her fingers. Her eyes focused intently on his, and he couldn’t detect any doubt in her tone. “You would never hurt me, Grant. You saved my life today as the tiger. I trust you.”
When she crouched lower to kiss him, he knew he was lost. Her soft lips, gently exploring his, were a temptation he couldn’t resist. With a groan of surrender, he parted his lips so her tongue could dart into his mouth, rubbing against his with ardent strokes.
His shoulder protested when he moved his hands lower, to dispense with her shorts and panties before cupping Zinsa’s buttocks and lifting her onto his lap as he lay back on the bed. She squealed with surprise at the unexpected action, but settled comfortably atop him, straddling his stomach.
Grant kept a hand on her hip to anchor her in position, while his other hand ventured to cup one of her breasts, thumbing the nipple through her shirt and bra. His mouth swallowed her moans when he lightly pinched the bud, and his stomach quivered when she rubbed her slick pussy against it.
Zinsa sat up straight, breaking the kiss and dislodging his hand from her hips. She smiled down at him, her eyes dark with hunger. “I’m going to make love to you.”
Overwhelmed by the eagerness in her expression, and his own anticipation, Grant didn’t protest when she took the initiative. Her head dipped a second before the tip of her tongue traced the line of his jaw in her leisurely exploration, gradually moving south. He swallowed when she nibbled on the column of his throat and barely contained a laugh of surprise when she sucked on his Adam’s apple. It was a stimulating sensation, if not sexual.
Zinsa continued downward, swirling her tongue over his chest, as her entire body shifted lower, bringing the apex of her thighs to settle on his pubic bone just inches from his hard cock. In an attempt to distract himself from the thought of taking her right then, he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt and moved upward to free her breast from the cup of the bra. A tremor racked her body and the rhythm of her tongue faltered for a moment, until she regained control. He grinned at the telltale signs of her arousal. Maybe she was determined to make love to him, to push him past the bounds of all self-control, but he wasn’t going alone.
When she reached his nipple, Zinsa sucked the small bud into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Grant shifted restlessly, his cock inching upward in search of the warm sheath of her pussy. Each tug of her mouth caused a corresponding tingle to shoot through his body, radiating from his nipple but felt everywhere.
He jumped when she scraped her teeth across his nipple as she left it, ready to move on to her ultimate destination. This detour led her to the heaviest patch of scars on his body, at his side. The first time she had seen them, she had touched them, but in a cursory manner. This time, as her dripping pussy slid lightly over his cock while she readjusted her position, Zinsa tasted them, first with tiny kisses across the area, followed by stroking her tongue through the rough mass, before pausing to trace the thickest ropes of scars from their points of origin.
The last scar led her to his pubic bone, and she paused only to straddle his thighs before returning her mouth to the end of the scar, trailing her tongue lower, to the side of his cock. He stiffened when she blew lightly on his heated skin, her lips hovered just beyond his erection. His cock convulsed with anticipation as her lips grazed the side of his shaft, zeroing in on his thick head. When her mouth closed around him, he groaned with pleasure, swearing his cock hardened even more, if that was possible.
Last time she had sucked his cock, Grant had been too consumed with trying to maintain control to fully appreciate her talent. This time he surrendered to the sensations, giving voice to his pleasure with small moans and grunts as she worked with enthusiasm.
Her tongue made broad strokes around his head before tracing the corona. When she reached the bundle of nerves at the V, the hand he’d had balled at his side instinctively reached for her, his fingers plunging into her short, kinky hair in an attempt to hold her there forever. Her breathy giggle sent electricity arcing through his body, and his cock convulsed.
When she scraped her teeth across the corona, it shouldn’t have been as pleasurable as it was. The contrast of satisfaction and slight discomfort had him pumping his hips, anxious to bury his cock as deep into her mouth as he could. She accepted the length of him with some effort, taking a moment to adjust to his size before resuming sucking.
Zinsa’s head bobbed up and down as soon as she was used to him, maintaining constant suction. Grant swore she was sucking hard enough to draw his balls through his cock, but it was so amazing he wasn’t going to protest. Every molecule in his body was threatening to come apart, his control was nonexistent, and the beast was rising, but he couldn’t muster the will to care. All that mattered was her mouth on his cock, her legs around his thighs, and the heady scent of her arousal hanging in the air.
She concentrated her efforts on the head of his cock, and Grant’s eyes blurred. His cock spasmed and release almost rushed over him. At the penultimate moment, Zinsa
withdrew, and he groaned, caught in a gray world between pain and release. “Zinsa.” Her name was a raspy plea torn from his throat.
“I’m not cruel,” she said, lifting her body higher as she spoke, until their pelvises aligned. “I want to be with you this time.”
Somehow he managed a nod, though all he wanted to do was plunge inside her pussy. With gritted teeth, he held out long
enough for Zinsa to position herself and sit down slowly, sinking onto his cock. As soon as her velvety folds encased him, Grant put his hands on her back, pulling her down across his stomach, even as he flipped their positions, needing to be able to delve as deeply into her as he could.
Zinsa cried out when he sank fully inside her. He lifted one of her legs and she curled it around his upper back, allowing him another inch of penetration. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, obscuring his vision, but not to the point that he couldn’t see how excited his lover was. Her need clearly matched his, and they pounded against each other in frenzied waves, meeting as if determined to absorb each other, and breaking apart to recover before trying again when their attempts failed.
He was too close to climax to make it last long, but she was right with him, bringing her hand between their bodies to rub her clit as he increased his thrusts even more, trembling on the edge. When he fell over, the cry that left his mouth blended with hers, and he couldn’t tell where the spasms in his cock ended and the convulsions in her pussy began. For that instant, they were one being, their hearts thundering in unison.
Blackness swept through him, rising so quickly he barely had time to pull out of Zinsa and roll off the bed. Huddled on the floor, he tried to regain control, but failed as the beast claimed him and the fire of transformation raged through him.
When he was fully transformed, Grant’s sense of self was vague, but he knew who Zinsa was. When she got out of bed and knelt on the floor beside him, his tail twitched. Peace filled him when her hands stroked his fur, and his memories stirred. His mind cleared, becoming sharper in a matter of seconds, and before he knew it, he was human again. It was the fastest he had ever found his way back from being immersed in the beast.
Lying on the floor, with Zinsa’s hands on his stomach, Grant fought against the shame trying to overtake him. It took every vestige of courage to meet her eyes, and his heart stuttered when he saw nothing but acceptance. “Zinsa?” Every ounce of his uncertainty resonated in uttering her name.