by RJ Blain
There were several ways I could handle the situation. I could lose my temper, I could stay calm and pretend I agreed, or I could use a little bit of subterfuge, buy time, and teach them both a lesson. Being too tired to lose my temper made it easy to stay calm, and I enjoyed the prospect of teaching Anatoly a lesson on the nature of women—even odd women like me.
I smiled so I wouldn’t snarl at either one of them. “Can you at least fill me in on what you know? Like this Starfall stone. What did it do when it burst?”
“The Starfall stone is likely the reason you were kidnapped. It’s a named stone, and people have been after it for years. It’s been found quite a few times, but it keeps getting away.” With a low growl, Anatoly shook his head, guiding his horse to pace mine so I was trapped between the two men. “It has several names now. The damned thing is a pain in my ass. The Clan Council has been trying to restore it to its proper owners for years.”
While I found his frustration amusing, I nodded and waited for him to continue.
He left me hanging for several minutes before he sighed and said, “I’m convinced it’s cursed.”
“What’s so special about this stone?”
“It belongs to a weapon clan, and it’s used in their forging. They haven’t forged a single mystic-imbued weapon since it disappeared. That’s bad news for everyone, since they make some of the best in the world. Everyone wants the stone, and it has this tendency to grow feet and walk off whenever it wants.”
I’d seen a Starfall stone roll of its own volition before, but I couldn’t resist the urge to nettle Anatoly. “It grows feet? How does a rock grow feet?”
He hissed at me. “It rolls on its own. It comes and goes as it pleases, and it doesn’t like sticking around. I was warned this would happen. I was told only someone of the blood could keep the damned thing without it taking a hike. I didn’t think it’d want to take a long term vacation or go sight seeing. I’m not the only putz who has gone chasing after it, either.”
His words all but confirmed he was the man I’d drugged, tattooed, and challenged in Miami, Florida. I spent a few moments thinking. I came to the conclusion a full confirmation wouldn’t change anything. Of all the people I could have attacked on impulse, I had to pick someone from the Clan Council.
In short, I’d told the absolute worst person on the planet my identity, and I couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t just had me killed instead of establishing a ridiculously high bounty for my capture.
I hummed to give the illusion of thoughtful interest—and to cover the fact I knew far more than I should. “You’ve seen it do this before?”
“It seems to have a taste for alcohol, since it likes showing up in bars.”
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.
“Nate has a very bad relationship with bars. They always get him into trouble.” Henry released my wrist. “Of course, it doesn’t help people converge on the damned thing trying to get paid for returning it. I think he might be onto something about it being cursed, though.”
“I’m still not understanding the connection between me and this Starfall stone.” Both men sighed. While the moon was all but gone in the sky, thanks to my post-shift, improved vision, I had no trouble seeing Anatoly, who shifted uneasily in his saddle. “Well?”
Leveling a glare at me, Anatoly replied, “The Starfall stone burst at your feet. No one knows why, but if someone wanted to get a hold of the stone, using someone the stone responds to seems like a good way to do it to me. It’s foolishness, since only one of the blood can handle the stone, but that doesn’t stop people from trying stupid things out of desperation.”
“Of the blood?”
Anatoly sighed and shook his head. “Someone born of the clan can get the stone to stay put. Each of the clans has keepers of their specific stone. This is the most stubborn stone, and the only one that hasn’t been returned to its clan yet. Now, unfortunately, this specific clan is pretty reclusive, preferring to stay in their mountains. Warriors leave every now and then, and they’re forces of nature when they do come out of hiding, but most of them prefer to keep to themselves. When there’s a conflict among the shifter clans, they show up, pick sides, and fight, but beyond that? They’re as likely to chop off your head as give you the time of day.”
That sounded about right from what I remembered growing up. The only outsiders anyone wanted visiting were the brides, and few remained longer than necessary. I didn’t blame them; after getting a good look around the world, I wouldn’t want to stay with the clan, either.
No matter how many problems I’d created for myself by choosing to be a woman, I treasured the freedom my decision gave me—freedom I wouldn’t have grasped if I’d remained in the Blade Clan’s fold.
“Which clan lost their stone?” I regretted the question the instant it left my mouth. Why would I, someone playing pretend at belong to a native tribe, have any interest in a weapon clan?
For a long time, silence answered my question, then Anatoly muttered, “They’d rather not have their shame be made public.”
“That’s stupid. How can anyone return the stone if no one knows who the stone belongs to?”
Henry chuckled. “She has a point.”
“The clan contacts individual mercenaries and makes offers to them—or requests the aid of people like me. Those who need to know have all the information they need to retrieve the stone and return it to the clan.”
My bad feeling came back in force. The weapon clans all had stones, and they were all important for the forging of each clan’s prized weapon type. One clan, however, was renowned for the versatility of their craft: mine, the Blade Clan.
Everyone wanted a blade; swords, daggers, knives, and even the arced blade of my katana were in high demand among mercenaries. Of the clans’ Starfall stones, Steel Heart possessed the most prestige and mystery, so treasured most in the clan—myself included—had never seen the thing.
Some risks were worth taking, and knowledge was power—if I wielded it right. “The Blade Clan’s Steel Heart. It’s the most valuable of the weapon clan Starfall stones, no one knows what it looks like, and the weapons imbued with its power are the best of the best.”
Maybe I’d left that life behind me, but I still had some pride in where I came from, and it reflected in my voice. I winced a little at my slip.
Henry and Anatoly gaped at me while our horses plodded through the darkness, following the road leading who-knows-where. I gave them time to think, and then I chuckled, the sound rasping in my throat. “I’m a courier. I read things. It’s my job to pursue knowledge at a client’s request—or pass messages. It’s logical to think the best of the Starfall stones would be missing. There are those who would kill to have a sword touched by its power.”
“I was unaware couriers had an interest in weapons,” Anatoly replied, his tone so neutral I marveled at his utter calm and lack of emotion.
“You’re joking, right?” I reined in my horse, and both men followed my lead. I transferred the reins to one hand and glared at the tiger shifter. “I spend every daylight hour in the saddle, often in the wilderness. I’d be stupid to do so unarmed. There’s a reason my horses weren’t stolen the times someone has attempted to take them.”
Anatoly blinked at me. “You make it sound like it’s a common occurrence.”
“That’s because it is.”
“I’d heard you’d been targeted a few times, but I’d thought it an exaggeration.”
“Smart couriers carry a sword. Smarter ones know how to use it.”
“And the best couriers?”
“Use it better than you do.”
Henry snickered. “She’s got you there, old friend.”
Anatoly snarled at the mystic. “Shut up.”
Wise men feared an angry tiger, but Henry laughed.
We reached a small town in the middle of the night and shared a cramped room with one bed, which Henry won by default. I added ‘prevent Anatoly from forcing me to shift shape
s’ to my growing list of things I needed to do soon. At least he shifted, too.
While I was dark gray with black stripes without a sign of white anywhere on me, the orange of Anatoly’s fur seemed poised to burst into flame. Each pitch black, perfect stripe cut against his brilliant fur. The white gracing his body gleamed purer than sunlit snow.
The only thing worse than a pretty man was a pretty man who knew his beauty. I would’ve been annoyed at his posing if I hadn’t been so busy trying not to drool. There needed to be a law banning the existence of handsome men who turned into even handsomer beasts.
I snarled at the glorious tiger, skulked my way to the other side of the room, and flopped on the floor by the door. If anyone wanted in, they’d have to shove me out of the way, and tearing someone to tiny bits would go a long way to help me deal with my mounting frustration levels.
Exhaustion caught up with me. Waking up to a rough tongue dragged over my face launched me into orbit. A cross between a strangled shriek and a roar burst out of me, and I made it up and onto the bed, landing on Henry, who yelped. I twisted around and spit feline curses at a smug Anatoly, who went to work grooming his paws.
“Get off,” the mystic grunted, pressing his hands to my side and shoving.
I found it amusing he couldn’t budge me, not even an inch, although I did make sure I didn’t rest my weight on him.
Anatoly chuffed, and I determined the sound to be equivalent to a human’s laughter.
“I’d rather not wake up to a five or six hundred pound tigress on me. It’s not pleasant. What did you do, Nate?”
I hissed at the other shifter to reinforce his responsibility for my unexpected flight.
He hissed back.
“It’s too early in the morning for this shit. Nate, what did you do to her?” Henry crawled out from under me, grabbed Anatoly’s clothes, and threw them at him.
Unlike me, Anatoly’s shifts were quick and appeared painless, and he dressed with no sign of caring about his rumpled clothing. “I licked her. She’s supposed to like it. I was showing her favor.”
“Why don’t you do us all the favor of not subjecting her to your morning breath? There’s nothing quite as vile as tiger breath in the morning—especially yours. Help her shift so we can get out of here, since you’re not letting me sleep.”
“I was thinking it’d be a good chance to get her accustomed to traveling as a tiger. We can walk faster than that nag does, Henry, and I don’t feel like buying another horse.”
“You don’t want to buy a horse, but you’re willing to feed a tiger. Have you lost your mind?”
“Just help me gather her things and be quiet.” Anatoly came to the bed, reached out, and touched the back of my neck. “I find it interesting her beads and feathers stay in her fur when she shifts. Any idea why?”
Henry shrugged, folding the clothes I’d worn the previous day and stuffing them into a saddlebag. “I’m going to guess it’s some form of tribe magic and proof she’s the legitimate owner of those beads and feathers. At least we don’t have to chase down every last one of those beads. They tend to be sensitive about them, and you saw how long it took her to put them back in her hair in the appropriate order, and that was with your help.”
The process had taken almost two hours, and I flattened my ears back at the memory of forcing my stiff fingers to do what I wanted, only relying on Anatoly when absolutely necessary. Between Anatoly’s forced shifts and Henry’s magic, I could use my hands and walk without pain, but my body ached, a reminder of what I’d endured.
“All right, Henry. You take care of getting us something to eat for the road. I’ll take care of acquiring her breakfast and bringing it out of town for her.”
Henry sighed. “You’re getting a live goat, aren’t you?”
“What else am I supposed to feed a tiger?”
“Steak.”
Anatoly snorted and headed for the door. “Come on, Runs Against Wind. Let’s get you a proper breakfast, not some prissy meal made by a squeamish mystic.”
Henry flung the saddlebags in Anatoly’s direction, and the shifter stepped out of the way, smirking when they hit the wall and thumped to the floor. “I’ll bring the horses out of town. Try not to lose the goat and have to shift to chase it down.”
“Why do you have so little faith in me?”
“I know you, that’s why. You, against Clan Council wishes, decided the best use of your time was to go chasing after a weapon clan’s Starfall stone. You then decided to travel across several states to hunt down your missing tigress. Now, instead of just taking the fucking train like a sane man, you’re having us hike our way back to Charlotte. There’s this thing called common sense. Go find some and use it!”
“You say such nice things to me, Henry. I even pay you to do it, too.”
“As I said. There’s this thing called common sense. Go find some and use it.”
I chuffed my laughter, which offended Anatoly so much he stormed out of the room, leaving me to follow or stay with Henry. Eager to see what other amusements the Clan Council tiger had to offer when disobeyed, I remained with the mystic.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Shifters and mystics alike reacted in strange, often funny ways to an oversized feline among them. Some ran, and Henry grabbed the back of my neck as though he actually believed it would stop me from chasing them if I wanted to.
Most watched me with wary regard; their fear smelled—and tasted—delicious, stirring my appetite. A rare few found me as interesting as I found them, and my favorite of them was a younger girl, no older than three or four, who wore a dress covered in bright yellow flowers. She ran up to me, her dark eyes wide, while her mother panicked, frozen in place.
Little arms reached for me, and when I obliged and ducked my head, she wrapped them around my neck. “Kee-kee!”
I was disappointed tigers couldn’t purr, so I made soft huffing noises instead, keeping my head down and still so I wouldn’t knock her over.
“Maria!” The girl’s mother spluttered, “I’m so sorry.”
I had the feeling she wanted to say something else entirely, probably pleading with me to not eat her child for breakfast.
Crouching beside me, Henry draped an arm over my back, lowering himself to Maria’s level. “You’re a mighty brave young lady, Maria. I’m Henry. This is Runs Against Wind.”
Maria’s grip on my neck tightened, and she grabbed handfuls of my fur. “Stripes! Tai-grr?”
I canted my head to get a good look at my sides. In the inn’s lobby, which also served as a common room where guests ate breakfast, my stripes did stand out. The charcoal, while still dark, couldn’t hide their presence.
“Yes, she’s a tiger. Do you like tigers, Maria?”
“Tai-grr,” the little girl confirmed with a bob of her head, her brunette braid bouncing.
I wanted to wrap my paws around her and squeeze her for being so adorable, but I restrained myself. With Maria’s mother already toeing the line between rational and panicked, I kept still, wishing I could purr. While satisfying, roaring wouldn’t do anything other than cause problems.
“While Runs Against Wind is very nice, especially for a tai-grr, you should always ask permission before you touch. It’s polite.” Henry softened his rebuke with a smile. “You’ll worry your mother if you approach strangers.”
The little girl’s scent changed, and despite not knowing what I smelled, I didn’t like it. Sour, bitter, and sharp enough to burn my mouth and nose, the odor clung to her and her clothes.
“Oh.” She let me go, giving my nose an awkward pat. “Sowwy, tai-grr.”
Her reluctance to return to her mother’s side bothered me almost as much as her scent. Bumping my nose against her palm, I pushed against her, rubbing the top of my head against her chest and stomach. With exaggerated care, I turned to Henry and bumped him, too.
“Have a good day.” Henry waved to Maria, secured his hold on the scruff of my neck, and gave me a tug in the dir
ection of the front doors, grabbing our saddlebags on his way. I stayed close to his side, keeping an eye on those nearby for signs of hostility.
We made it outside, and the mystic sighed his relief. “Thank you. That could have gotten ugly if anyone thought you were going to bite.”
The memory of tripping over my own paws while attempting to hunt taunted me. I doubted my performance would be any better against people, resulting in my pelt decorating someone’s floor.
We headed into the stable to discover the swaybacked nag was gone. Henry took his time grooming and tacking the remaining horses, who ignored my presence. Dipshit and Devil Spawn would’ve done their best to slaughter me as a threat to all horse kind.
Either to keep me busy or convince people I wasn’t dangerous, Henry handed me the reins to Anatoly’s horse, a sturdy bay who gave me one foul look before pretending I didn’t exist. Without hands, the only way to hold the leather straps was in my mouth, and I learned tack leather, freshly oiled and tended, tasted terrible.
I flattened my ears and followed Henry on his errands, which involved a stop at a bakery and a restaurant, where he purchased enough to fill three saddlebags. The mystic seemed pleased with himself, mounted his horse, and guided me out of town.
The pitter patter of tiny feet on stone alerted me to Maria’s presence, and her darting to and fro to follow without anyone seeing her amused me so much I pretended I hadn’t noticed her, which encouraged her to keep following us. Henry spotted her, too, betraying his awareness with a frustrated sigh.
I assumed the sour edge to Henry’s scent reflected the man’s worries.
The little girl tailed us all the way out of town to where the cobbles faded to the cracked, decaying ruins of old asphalt. Nature, in its steady way, took advantage of every opportunity, and stubborn patches of grass whittled away at man’s influence.