(Tiger Saga #1) Tiger's Curse

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(Tiger Saga #1) Tiger's Curse Page 9

by Colleen Houck


  I sat down on a rock and searched for another energy bar. I ate half of one and gave Ren the other half, plus another one. I knew I could survive on that many calories, but I was pretty sure Ren couldn’t. He’d have to hunt soon.

  Opening a pocket of Mr. Kadam’s backpack, I found a compass. I pushed it into the pocket of my jeans. There was still money, the traveling papers, more water bottles, a first aid kit, bug spray, a candle, and a pocketknife, but no cell phone, and my personal cell phone was missing.

  Strange. Could Mr. Kadam have known that I would end up in the jungle? I thought about the man who looked like Mr. Kadam standing by the truck right before it was stolen and wondered aloud, “Did he want me to get lost out here?”

  Ren wandered over to me and sat down.

  “No,” I said, looking into the animal’s blue eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense either. What reason could he possibly have for flying me all the way to India just to get me lost in the jungle? He couldn’t have known you would lead me in here or that I’d follow you. He’s not the type to deceive anyway.”

  Ren gaze shifted to the ground as if he felt guilty.

  “I guess Mr. Kadam is just a really well-prepared Boy Scout.”

  After a brief rest, Ren got up again, walked off a few paces, and turned around to wait for me. Complaining, I dragged myself off the rock, and followed along behind him. Pulling out the bug spray, I gave my limbs a good spritz and squirted some on Ren for good measure. I laughed when he wrinkled his nose and a big tiger sneeze shook his body.

  “So, Ren, where are we going? You act like you have a destination in mind. Personally, I’d like to get back to civilization. So if you could find us a town, I’d be most appreciative.”

  He continued to lead me on a trail that only he could see for the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon.

  I checked my compass often and figured out that we were traveling eastward. I was trying to calculate how many miles we’d walked when Ren burrowed between some bushes. I followed him to find a small clearing on the other side.

  With great relief, I saw a small hut that sat right in the middle of the clearing. Its curved roof was covered with rows of canes tied close together that draped over the top of the structure like a blanket. Stringy fibers, tied into intricate knots, lashed large bamboo poles together to make walls, and the cracks were thatched with dried grasses and clay.

  The hut was surrounded by a barrier of loose stones piled on top of each other to create a short wall about two feet high. The stones were covered in thick, verdant moss. In front of the hut, thin panels of stone were affixed to the wall and were painted with an indecipherable assortment of symbols and shapes. The shelter’s doorway was so tiny that an average-sized person would have to bend over to enter. There was a line of clothing flapping in the wind, and a small flourishing garden was planted on the side of the home.

  We approached the rock wall, and just as I was stepping over, Ren leapt over the barrier next to me. “Ren! You scared the stuffing out of me! Make a noise first or something, would you?”

  We approached the small hut, and I steeled myself to knock on the tiny door, but then I hesitated, looking at Ren. “We need to do something about you first.” I took the yellow rope out of my backpack and walked over to a tree on the side of the yard. He followed me haltingly. I beckoned him closer. When he finally came close enough, I slipped the rope through his collar and tied the other end to a tree. He didn’t look happy.

  “I’m sorry, Ren, but we can’t have you loose. It would scare the family. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I began walking over to the small house, but then froze in my tracks when I heard a quiet male voice behind me say, “Is this really necessary?”

  Turning around slowly, I saw a handsome young man standing directly behind me. He looked young, in his early twenties. He was taller than me by a head and had a strong, well-developed trim body that was clothed in loose white cotton garments. His long-sleeved shirt was untucked and carelessly buttoned, revealing a smooth, well-built golden-bronze chest. His lightweight pants were rolled at the ankles, emphasizing his bare feet. Glossy black hair swept away from his face and curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

  His eyes were what riveted me the most. They were my tiger’s eyes, the same deep cobalt blue.

  Reaching out a hand, he spoke. “Hello, Kelsey. It’s me, Ren.”

  8

  an explanation

  the man approached me carefully with his hands splayed out in front of him and repeated, “Kelsey, it’s me, Ren.”

  He didn’t appear fearsome, but my body tightened in apprehension nonetheless. Confused, I held my hand out in front of me in a futile attempt to halt his progress. “What? What did you say?”

  He came closer, put his hand on his muscled chest, and spoke slowly. “Kelsey, don’t run. I’m Ren. The tiger.”

  He turned over his hand to show me Ren’s collar and the yellow rope coiled about his fingers. I looked behind him, and sure enough, the white cat was missing. I took a few steps back to put more distance between us. He saw my movement and immediately froze. The back of my knees hit the stone barrier. I stopped and blinked my eyes several times, not comprehending what he was telling me.

  “Where’s Ren? I don’t understand. Did you do something to him?”

  “No. I am him.”

  He began to approach me again, while I shook my head.

  “No. You can’t be.”

  I tried to take another step and almost fell backward over the wall. He reached me in the blink of an eye and caught my waist, steadying me.

  “Are you alright?” he asked politely.

  “No!” He was still holding my hand. I stared at it, imagining the tiger’s paws.

  “Kelsey?” I looked up into his startling blue eyes. “I am your tiger.”

  I whispered, “No. No! It’s not possible. How could that be?”

  His quiet voice was soothing. “Please, come inside the house. The owner is not at home right now. You can sit down and relax, and I will attempt to explain everything.”

  I was too stunned to argue, so I allowed him to guide me toward the hut. He clutched my fingers in his as if afraid that I would run back into the jungle. I didn’t usually follow strange men around, but something about him made me feel safe. I knew with certainty that he wouldn’t harm me. It was the same strong feeling I experienced with the tiger. He bowed his head to get through the door and stepped into the small hut, pulling me along behind him.

  It was a one-room shelter with a small bed in one corner, a tiny window on the side wall, and a table with two chairs in another corner. A curtain was pulled back to reveal a small bathtub. The kitchen was just a sink with a water pump, a short counter, and some shelves with various canned food products and spices. Above our heads, the ceiling was strung with a hanging assortment of dried herbs and plants that filled the room with a sweet fragrance.

  The man gestured that I should sit on the bed, then leaned against a wall and waited quietly for me to settle myself.

  Recovering from the initial shock, I snapped out of my daze and assessed my situation. He was Ren, the tiger. We stared at each other for a moment, and I knew he was telling the truth. The eyes were the same.

  I felt the fear in my body drain away while a new emotion rushed forward to fill the void: anger. Despite all the time I’d spent with him, he’d chosen not to share this secret with me. He’d led me through the jungle, apparently on purpose, and allowed me to believe that I was lost, in a foreign country, in the wilderness, alone.

  I knew he’d never hurt me. He was a . . . friend, and I trusted him. But why hadn’t he trusted me? He’d had plenty of opportunities to share this peculiar reality, but he hadn’t.

  Looking at him with suspicion, I irritably asked, “So, what are you? Are you a man who became a tiger or a tiger that turned into a man? Or are you like a werewolf? If you bit me, would I turn into a tiger too?”

 
; He tilted his head with a puzzled expression on his face, but he didn’t answer right away. He watched me with the same intense blue eyes as the tiger. It was disconcerting.

  “Uh, Ren? I think I’d feel more comfortable if you moved a little farther away from me while we discuss this.”

  He sighed, walked calmly over to the corner, sat on a chair, and then leaned against the wall, balancing himself on the chair’s two back legs. “Kelsey, I will answer all of your questions. Just be patient with me and give me time to explain.”

  “Alright. Explain.”

  As he gathered his thoughts, I scrutinized his appearance. I couldn’t believe that this was my tiger—that the tiger I cared about was this man.

  He didn’t look very tiger-like, other than his eyes. He had full lips, a square jaw, and an aristocratic nose. He didn’t look like any other man I’d ever seen. I couldn’t place it, but there was something else, something cultured about him. He exuded confidence, strength, and nobility.

  Even barefoot with nondescript clothing, he looked like someone powerful. And even if he weren’t good looking—and he was extremely good looking—I still would have been drawn to him. Maybe that was the tiger part of him. Tigers always seem regal to me. They capture my attention. He was as beautiful a man as he was a tiger.

  I trusted my tiger, but could I trust the man? I warily eyed him from the edge of the rickety bed, my doubts obvious on my face. He was patient, allowing me to boldly study him, and even seemed amused, as if he could read my thoughts.

  I finally broke the silence, “Well, Ren? I’m listening.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then slid his hand up through his silky black hair, mussing it in a distractingly attractive way.

  Dropping his hand to his lap, he looked at me thoughtfully from under thick eyelashes. “Ah, Kelsey. Where do I begin? There’s so much I need to tell you, but I don’t even know where to start.”

  His voice was quiet, refined, and genial, and I soon found myself mesmerized by it. He spoke English very well with just a slight accent. He had a honeyed voice—the kind that sends a girl off into wistful daydreams. I shook off my reaction and caught him scrutinizing me with his cobalt blue eyes.

  There was a tangible connection between us. I didn’t know if it was simple attraction or something else. His presence was unsettling. I tried looking away from him to calm myself, but I ended up twisting my hands and staring at my feet, which were tapping the bamboo floor with jittery energy. When I looked back at his face, the side of his mouth was turned up in a smirk and one of his eyebrows was raised.

  I cleared my throat weakly. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Is it that hard to sit still and listen?”

  “No. You just make me nervous, that’s all.”

  “You weren’t nervous around me before.”

  “Well, you don’t look the same as you did before. You can’t expect me to behave the same way around you now.”

  “Kelsey, try to relax. I would never harm you.”

  “Okay. I’ll sit on my hands. Is that better?”

  He laughed.

  Whoa. Even his laugh is magnetic.

  “Keeping still is something I had to learn while being a tiger. A tiger must lie motionless for long periods of time. It requires patience and for this explanation you will need some.”

  He stretched his powerful shoulders and then reached up to pull on the string of an apron hanging from a hook. He twisted it around his finger unconsciously and said, “I have to do this rather quickly. I only have a few minutes of each day when I can take human form—to be exact, only twenty-four minutes of each twenty-four-hour day—so, because I’ll change into a tiger again soon, I want to make the most of my time with you. Will you let me have these few minutes?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes. I want to hear your explanation. Please go on.”

  “Do you remember the story of Prince Dhiren that Mr. Kadam told you at the circus?”

  “Yes, I remember. Wait. Are you saying—?”

  “That story was mostly accurate. I am the Dhiren that he spoke of. I was the prince of the Mujulaain Empire. It’s true that Kishan, my brother, and my fiancée betrayed me, but the end of the story is a fabrication. I was not killed, as many people have been led to believe. My brother and I were cursed and changed into tigers. Mr. Kadam has faithfully kept our secret all of these centuries. Please don’t blame him for bringing you here. It was my fault. You see, I . . . need you, Kelsey.”

  My mouth went suddenly dry, and I found myself leaning forward, barely sitting on the edge of the bed. I almost fell off. I quickly cleared my throat and readjusted my position on the bed, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “Uh, what do you mean you need me?”

  “Mr. Kadam and I believe you are the only one who can break the curse. Somehow, you’ve already freed me from captivity.”

  “But, I didn’t free you. Mr. Kadam’s the one who purchased your freedom.”

  “No. Mr. Kadam was unable to purchase my freedom until you came along. When I was captured, I was no longer able to change into my human form or gain my freedom until something, or should I say someone, special came along. That someone special was you.”

  He curled the apron string around his finger, and I watched as he unwound it and began again. My eyes drifted back up to his face. It was turned toward the window. He appeared calm and serene, but I recognized underpinnings of sadness hidden from view. The sun shone through the window, and the curtain blew slightly in the breeze, causing sunlight and shadow to dance across his face.

  I stammered, “Okay, what do you need me for? What do I have to do?”

  He turned back to me and continued, “We came to this hut for a reason. The man who lives here is a shaman, a monk, and he’s the one who can explain your role in all this. He wouldn’t share anything further until we found you and brought you here. Even I don’t know why you are the chosen one. The shaman also insists that he must speak with us alone. That’s why Mr. Kadam was left behind.”

  He leaned forward. “Will you stay here with me until he returns and at least hear what he has to say? If you decide afterward that you wish to leave and return home, Mr. Kadam will arrange it.”

  I stared at the floor. “Dhiren—”

  “Please call me Ren.”

  I blushed and made eye contact. “Okay, Ren. Your explanation is overwhelming. I don’t know what to say.”

  Varying emotions flitted across his handsome face.

  Who was I to reject a handsome man—I mean tiger. I sighed. “Alright. I’ll wait and meet your monk, but I’m hot, sweaty, hungry, tired, in need of a good bath, and frankly, I’m not sure I even trust you. I don’t think I could take another night of sleeping in the jungle.”

  He sighed in relief as he smiled at me. It was like the sun bursting through a raincloud. His smile filled me with golden bright happy rays. I wanted to close my eyes and bask in the warm glow.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry that this part of the journey was uncomfortable for you. Mr. Kadam and I had a disagreement about luring you into the jungle. He thought we should just tell you the truth, but I wasn’t sure if you would come. I thought that if you spent a little more time with me, you would learn to trust me, and I could reveal who I was in my own way. That was what we were arguing about when you saw us by the truck.”

  “So that was you! You should have told me the truth. Mr. Kadam was right. We could have avoided the entire jungle hike and driven here.”

  He sighed. “No. We would’ve had to cross through the jungle anyway. There’s no way to drive into the sanctuary this deeply by car. The man who lives here prefers it that way.”

  I crossed my arms and muttered, “Well, you still should have told me.”

  He twisted the apron tie. “You know, sleeping outdoors isn’t all bad. You get to stare up at the stars and cool breezes ruffle your fur after a hot day. The grass smells sweet and,” he
made eye contact with me, “so does your hair.”

  I blushed and grumbled, “Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed it.”

  He smiled smugly and said, “I did.”

  I had a quick flash of him as a man snuggled up next to me in the forest, imagined him resting his head on my lap while I stroked his hair, and decided to focus on the matter at hand.

  “Well, listen, Ren, you’re changing the subject. I don’t appreciate the way you manipulated me into being here. Mr. Kadam should’ve told me at the circus.”

  He shook his head. “We didn’t think you’d believe his story. He made up the trip to the tiger reserve to get you to India. We figured once you were here, I could change into a man and clarify everything.”

  I admitted, “You’re probably right. If you had changed to a man there, I don’t think I would have come.”

  “Why did you come?”

  “I wanted to spend more time with . . . you. You know, the tiger. I would have missed him. I mean you.” I blushed.

  He grinned lopsidedly. “I would have missed you too.”

  I wrung the hem of my shirt between my hands.

  Misreading my thoughts, he said, “Kelsey, I’m truly sorry for the deception. If there’d been any other way—”

  I looked up. He hung his head in a way that reminded me of the tiger. The frustration and awkwardness I felt about him dissipated. My instincts told me that I should believe him and help him. The strong, emotional connection that drew me to the tiger tugged at my heart even more powerfully with the man. I felt pity for him and his situation.

  Softly, I asked, “When will you change back into a tiger?”

  “Soon.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not as much as it used to.”

  “Do you understand me when you are a tiger? Can I still speak to you?”

  “Yes, I’ll still be able to hear and understand you.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll stay here with you until the shaman comes back. I still have a lot of questions for you though.”

 

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