White Tiger

by Jennifer Ashley

  “Yes, but who looks after Robbie?” Addie thought about the look Kendrick had given him, the one that told Robbie he needed to make sure the smaller cubs were okay. Robbie sometimes looked crushed under the weight of responsibility.

  “I look after him,” Kendrick answered. “Go to bed. Long day tomorrow.”

  “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

  Kendrick gave her an unreadable look. “I don’t know. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “Kendrick.” Addie took a step forward.

  Kendrick turned back to her, looking impatient to be gone. “Something you need?”

  “A lot of things. Like who is after you, why you don’t live in a Shiftertown, why you don’t wear a Collar, and why you want to buy this house in the middle of nowhere. The documentaries say Shifters aren’t allowed to buy houses. Which is a stupid rule, but I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

  Kendrick came back from the door to halt a foot or so away from her, right in her personal space. He could change from quiet, enigmatic man to dangerous predator in a heartbeat.

  He leaned down and spoke quickly and softly, his eyes glittering in the shadows. “I want Charlie to think us a human family so he won’t catch on I’m Shifter. Humans would be together like this. I’ll buy this place, like a normal human, and he never has to know. I need you to help me with that, Addison.”

  His warmth came to her, his eyes holding vehemence but also fear. Kendrick demanded, but Addie realized his demand was actually a plea. Kendrick wasn’t a man who had to ask for help very often.

  “So did you escape from a Shiftertown?” Addie asked in a whisper.

  “No. I was never in one.” Kendrick took a step closer her. “That’s the point. I’ve kept myself, my family, and an entire group of Shifters from being forced into Shiftertowns. For twenty years.”

  Addie’s lips parted. From what little she’d gleaned, Shifters could not be without Collars and were not allowed to live anywhere but a Shiftertown. Those were the rules, enforced pretty hard. Shifters caught not following those rules were called “rogues” and could be arrested and killed.

  Kendrick and his sons, walking around in the world un-Collared, were in a dangerous position.

  “How can you?” she asked, her voice hushed. “Isn’t it safer for you in the Shiftertowns?”

  Kendrick’s look of rage nearly made her step back, but Addie held her ground.

  “Not safer,” Kendrick said, the words containing a snarl. “More convenient for humans. They’re terrified of us, but they never gave us a chance.” He’d begun to curve over her, a beast enraged, and now eased back down. “You didn’t give us up to the police. I’m trusting you to not give us up now.”

  “Like I would.” Addie pinned him with an annoyed look. “I really don’t care whether you live in a Shiftertown or not. Just . . . promise me you won’t let your kids be hurt for what you believe in.”

  His scowl deepened. “I am doing this to make sure my cubs are free and far from harm. Do you think they’d let me keep Robbie? He’s without clan, without pack. Humans would shove him in with a different wolf family who might not accept him. Pack affiliation is taken seriously.”

  “But you’re not even a wolf,” Addie pointed out.

  “He’s with me because I’m leader. All my Shifters are my pack, as it were. Though Felines say pride.”

  “What about me?” Addie asked. “Will I be part of your pride?”

  Kendrick stopped. He stared at her as though she’d stunned him. His face went very still, his jaw firming then easing.

  He skimmed his gaze down her body, taking in her shirt that was about four years old, her generic blue jeans, her sneakers. Then, very slowly, Kendrick lifted his hand and smoothed back a lock of her hair.

  He’d stripped off his gloves, and the touch of his bare fingers tingled heat through her blood. Kendrick’s jaw tightened again, his lips compressing until little creases formed in the corners of his mouth.

  Addie resisted leaning into his hand, much as she wanted to. His palm was large, which would nicely cup her cheek, warm her cool skin. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

  Kendrick abruptly dropped his hand, and Addie opened her eyes in time to see him turning away. The draft of his swift withdrawal chilled her.

  “Get some rest,” he rumbled, then yanked open the door and took himself out.

  Addie blew out her breath as the door clicked closed behind him. She needed to flop somewhere, as she liked to when the world got too much for her. In this room, she had to climb the ladder to the bed before she could throw herself down on her back.

  The bed was as comfortable as it looked. Addie’s bones began to soften, her sore muscles and her shakes relaxing.

  She was far, far from anyone and anything she knew, with a taciturn Shifter biker with a sword and his three kids, in a run-down dude ranch with no electricity, its proprietor a sad old man taking care of it in memory of his late wife.

  Addie should be terrified. Kendrick could do anything to her—he was a Shifter without a Collar, uncontrolled, unregulated. She should fear him.

  But she’d seen the sadness in his eyes when he’d run the sword through the other Shifter, even though that Shifter had been doing his best to kill Kendrick and his sons. Addie had witnessed Kendrick’s protectiveness with the cubs, and now with Addie.

  He wasn’t a rampaging, killing beast . . . All right, at least not all the time. He cared about his kids, he’d not let Addie take the blame for the shooting, he’d handed Addie five thousand dollars to help her out, and then shrugged when the police took it away from her. He’d spoken casually about buying this house, which was large, and probably on a lot of land. Not cheap. So somewhere, Kendrick had enough stashed that he didn’t have to be concerned about money.

  Addie spread out her arms and breathed in the silence. She’d regain her equilibrium then check on the boys and get them to bed. No worries about springing up tomorrow morning, with nothing to look forward to but putting on her waitress uniform and heading to the diner for another grueling day on her feet.

  Addie was here by her own choice, lying on a very comfortable bed, while a hot man who didn’t look at her with boredom was running around somewhere, insisting she take it easy while he did all the work.

  Dreams really did come true.

  * * *

  Kendrick fixed the generator, which was located in a room under the house entered by the outside. A storm cellar, he reflected, built to withstand the tornadoes that sometimes marched across this land.

  Charlie helped him by training the flashlight on the gears and wires while keeping up a stream of talk.

  This had been a pretty famous ranch at one time, Charlie was saying. All the greats came out here in the early days of Hollywood—John Wayne, Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Audie Murphy, Gene Autry . . . Charlie and his wife hadn’t taken over until the seventies but they’d seen their share of movie stars of that day. Kendrick let him natter on, suspecting the man hadn’t had anyone to talk to in a very long time.

  The generator’s problem was age and lack of lubricant. Kendrick cut out old corroded wires and spliced in good ones, then greased up the contacts. That would help out for a while. The entire generator would have to be overhauled or replaced, but Kendrick’s trackers could do that once the house was his.

  Kendrick nodded at Charlie to start up the machine again, and Charlie flipped a switch then pressed a dirt-encrusted button. The generator coughed once, then clattered to life.

  “Hot damn,” Charlie said. He slapped Kendrick on the back, which felt like a brush from dry twigs. “You did it, son. Will make a huge difference when it gets hot tomorrow. And a better breakfast.”

  Kendrick and Charlie cleaned up, then Kendrick told Charlie he’d go for a walk. He agreed to Charlie’s warning to watch out for the snakes and coyotes—he’d lived i
n Texas for a while and knew what it was like.

  The challenge of repairing the generator had kept Kendrick’s mind off things for a while but now he needed to explore, to find out where they were and what was out here.

  At least, that’s what he told himself as he walked away into the dark, quietly setting down his flashlight once he was far enough from the house.

  Kendrick did need to roam the bounds and make sure they were truly alone out here, but another reason he needed to leave was Addison.

  She’d gazed wistfully at him as she’d leaned against the bed, her top with its floaty material outlining every soft curve of her. She’d looked worried when she mentioned their sleeping arrangements, but then when he’d touched her hair, she’d closed her eyes, her body relaxing, wanting to move against his.

  Kendrick’s dormant mating frenzy had taken another breath. He’d had to get out of there before he did or said anything stupid—and irreversible.

  I wouldn’t want just sex with you, Addison. Not like your “normal” human couple.

  I’d want it hard and fast, basic and raw. I want you on the ground, against the wall, you riding me, me on you, locked together, inseparable. I want you groaning my name while I shout yours, and I want you begging me never to stop . . .

  Kendrick started to run. Faster and faster, until his breath came in gasps, and his mouth was parched.

  He paused long enough to slide out of his human clothes, then he hit the ground on all fours as tiger.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kendrick ran until he could run no more. Even tigers got tired, especially after they’d battled, rescued a woman in distress, and then ridden the rest of the night.

  He slowed to a walk and ambled along, breathing hard, paws barely making an indent on packed Texas earth. The run had calmed him enough that every beat of his heart didn’t make him want Addison, only every other beat. Still, he was too agitated, too charged with adrenaline. He needed to climb down from frenzy and think.

  He’d liked the ranch as soon as he saw it, and now, slowing to stroll its perimeters, he liked it even more. Kendrick didn’t know the exact boundaries of the property, although a barbed wire fence along the east side likely marked it from its neighbor. He scented no other Shifters out here, and not even any humans. Few would come this far from a road. A determined hiker might strike out across country but Kendrick could deal with that as it came up.

  He only cared that the ranch was hard to find and the house was out of the line of sight from the roads due to a slight rippling of the land around it. Defending such a large area wouldn’t be easy, but Kendrick’s top trackers—Seamus, Francesca, Dimitri, Jaycee—could do it.

  He wondered momentarily whether they, his closest friends, had also turned on him, like the Shifters who’d cornered him in the diner. He hadn’t been in touch with any of them for a long time, though he knew that Seamus and Francesca were well. He hadn’t heard anything from Dimitri or Jaycee.

  Kendrick pushed those thoughts aside for now. More immediately, he’d have to deal with Addison threatening to tear his mating frenzy out of the cocoon he’d stuffed it into. He’d vowed to protect her, so she needed to stay here for now. He’d simply have to suppress his need for her until this was over.

  Right, like that was so simple.

  Maybe he could pound his head against the ground until all thoughts of her smile, the sly look she’d given him when she’d confessed she liked the same pie he did, the feeling of her against his body on the motorcycle went away. Sure, there was a good solution.

  Kendrick huffed a breath and turned his steps for the house. He couldn’t put off facing Addison, so he had to find a way to suck it up, as Brett liked to say. He had his cubs to take care of.

  Didn’t help that the phrase suck it up made him think of covering Addison with whipped cream and licking it off her.

  Halfway back to the house, Kendrick halted. Addison filling his thoughts had distracted him from a faint scent on the edge of his senses. Not human, not Shifter. Not Fae either—he’d encountered a few of those in his day, and their smell was nose-curlingly distinctive.

  The scent faded. Whatever, whoever, it had been, was gone. Kendrick let out the breath he’d been holding and moved silently through the dark to where he’d left his clothes.

  * * *

  Addie woke shortly before six in the morning—according to the luminous digital clock next to the bed. She took a moment to realize where she was, and another to realize the electricity must have been restored if the clock worked.

  The room was cold, no air flowing. Charlie had probably turned off any fans, heat, or AC once the generator was down. All the lights were off too—nothing shone under the door.

  Addison groped for the lamp she’d seen on the table by the bed, groped some more for a switch, and flicked it on.

  She blinked at the glare, then swallowed a strangled yelp when she found the reclining form of a giant white tiger on the floor beside the bed.

  “Holy . . .” She cut off her exclamation and lowered her voice to a whisper. “. . . shit.”

  The tiger released a breath and slowly raised his head. Addie found herself meeting Kendrick’s green eyes in a broad white face. Black stripes formed a series of upside-down Vs on his forehead, and black spots dotted the base of his white whiskers. His ears, round, furry, and sticking straight up, moved in her direction, then one swiveled, listening behind him.

  “Please tell me that’s you, Kendrick,” Addie said in a hushed tone. “Not a white tiger that’s escaped from a zoo, walked a hundred miles, and broke into the house to find a snack.”

  The tiger huffed again, eyes glinting in amusement. Kendrick heaved himself to his feet, which put his back level with the high bed. He butted Addie’s hand, like a cat might do, and her palm landed on the top of his head.

  “Well, aren’t you warm and soft?” Addie stroked him a couple of times then daringly scratched behind one ear. The tiger’s eyes half closed, and he let out a quiet growl.

  The growl would have been a purr on a cat but the tiger was so large the vibration shook the bed. He rubbed against her hand, pressing so hard he threatened to dislodge her from the mattress.

  “I don’t think there’s much room for a tiger up here,” Addie said as she continued to bask in the silken feel of his coat. “Though you’d be soft to sleep against.”

  She had a sudden flash of curling up against him, gathering this wild beast into her arms as she slept without fear.

  The tiger ducked away and Addie’s fingers slid from him. She bit back disappointment then uttered a soft cry as the tiger’s fur rippled. Its limbs shrank, and the tiger’s head flattened until it became Kendrick’s face. Only his eyes didn’t change, the green pinning Addie with a piercing stare.

  Addie was left looking at a black-and-white haired man standing fully illuminated by the bedside light, not wearing a stitch of clothing.

  The last time Addie had seen Kendrick unclothed, he’d been covered with blood and grime at the close of a deadly battle. At the moment, he was clean and unscathed, the quiet bedroom a very different scenario.

  His hard chest was dusted with dark hair and another arrow of hair pointed from a firm abdomen to a place that wasn’t in shadow. No modesty for Kendrick as he remained standing two feet from her, every inch of him showing. The hair there was purely black, Addie saw. Not mixed as she’d wondered.

  “Well,” Addie said shakily. “Good to see you’re not a real tiger.”

  “I am a real tiger,” Kendrick answered in his low rumble. “The beast is the real part of me. This is what I show to humans to live in their world.” He splayed fingers across his chest.

  “I see.” Addie realized she was having a philosophical discussion about whether he was tiger-man or man-tiger, while he stood naked in front of her. “Clears that up. Don’t you want to . . . um . . . put anything
on?”

  Kendrick shrugged and turned his back. “I will if it bothers you.”

  “It doesn’t bother me,” Addie said quickly. His back was as enticing as his front, his well-muscled torso narrowing to tight buttocks and strong thighs. “I’m as happy as the next girl to have a good-looking man like you on full display.” She let her gaze rest on his backside as he reached for clothes draped over a chair. “But Charlie might be embarrassed if he came in.”

  “Why should he come in?” Kendrick pulled underwear on over his delectable ass, to Addie’s regret. Although . . . he still looked pretty good in only the underwear.

  “I don’t know,” Addie babbled. “To check on us? Bring us a midnight snack?”

  Kendrick turned around, underwear in place. The briefs were dark blue and very small. “Charlie is asleep. I heard him snoring in a room at the other end of the house.”

  Addie’s need to gaze at him hungrily kept her nervous questions coming. “What were you doing out until o’dark thirty in the morning?”

  His quizzical expression told her he didn’t know what her idiom meant, but he answered. “Walking the bounds, making sure all was safe. The one horse in the barn wasn’t happy with a visit from a tiger, but otherwise, we’re alone here.”

  “Good. I like that.” Addie folded her arms, cold. She’d put on one of the shirts he’d offered, a big T-shirt, faded from washing, with an INXS logo on it. She wondered how long he’d had it—Shifters, it was rumored, lived for several hundred years.

  Kendrick’s gaze was steady. “You like being alone?”

  Addie hugged herself tighter. His shirt was roomy on her, which was a nice change. Usually clothes hugged her too much, revealing more of her plumpness than she was comfortable with.

  “I’m by myself a lot,” she said. “When I’m not at work. Sometimes it’s refreshing.”

  “I hate it.” The words were vehement, Kendrick’s eyes burning.