Tiger Magic su-5

by Jennifer Ashley

  “Get out, Danielson.”

  “Sir.” Walker gave Sheldon a perfect salute and went.

  That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas. Sheldon’s words, but his eyes had told a different story. Sheldon was playing his own game.

  What Walker needed to do now was figure out how to keep the tiger Shifter safe and discover what the true purpose of his creation was. All this without screwing up Walker’s own life.

  He walked to the mess hall in the tiny camp on the south side of Austin where the small unit trained constantly, though it rarely was called out to do anything with Shifters. The Shifters in Austin, where the Shifter Bureau South was located, never gave anyone any trouble. The only incidents had been a Shifter accused of murdering a human woman a few years ago—proved innocent—and now Tiger’s violence in the hospital.

  Which had stopped the moment Carly Randal had walked into the room and said his name. There was something in that, and not just because Carly was cute.

  Of course, Rebecca stripping down to change into a bear had pretty much floored Walker. Women could make a man feel like he’d been punched in the gut.

  Because the camp was small, there was no separate dining facility for the few officers; everyone ate together in one mess hall. Sheldon either went out to lunch or ate in the small private room off the main cafeteria. Walker usually ate in the main mess when he had a meal in camp, mostly because he couldn’t imagine conducting casual lunchtime conversation with LTC Sheldon. Plus he knew his men didn’t mind seeing an officer eating lunch like a human being once in a while.

  Walker scanned the score of men who were either already eating or standing in line with their trays, until he found the sergeant he was looking for.

  Crosby was a sergeant who was very good at obeying orders to the letter, which was how he’d made it all the way to E-5. God help the army if he ever made it to staff sergeant or higher. Crosby had a square head, made more square by his buzzed hair, and a rectangular shaped body replete with muscle. He was the best at all the fitness tests and the first one out for PT every morning.

  Crosby rose to his feet as Walker deposited his full tray opposite him. The sergeant was alone, isolated from the rest of the fatigue-clad lunchers, because no one liked him.

  “As you were, Sergeant,” Walker said, sitting down. “If you stand up while I eat, your food will get cold.”

  Crosby plunked back down again, but he didn’t eat. “Sir.”

  “Nice shot taking down the Shifter,” Walker said as he stirred his unidentifiable soup. “Why’d you keep shooting him once he was on the ground?”

  Crosby looked puzzled. “Told to, sir. Put as many rounds into him as it took but make sure he was alive when I walked away.”

  Aha. Walker hadn’t been certain which of the soldiers had been sent out to run Tiger off the road and shoot him, but he’d strongly suspected it had been Crosby. Crosby had just confirmed it.

  “How did you know where the Shifter would be going that day?”

  “Didn’t. Was told to follow and take the best opportunity. That’s a lonely stretch out there.” He didn’t change expression, but Walker saw in the man’s eyes that he was pleased with his ingenuity. “Orders came straight from the LTC, sir.”

  Which Crosby would never question. “In the execution of those orders, you know you endangered civilians.”

  Crosby’s puzzled look returned. “Sir? I waited until they were well away from other humans—no houses out there, no other cars. The only ones endangered were another Shifter who could have attacked me and the Shifter groupie.”

  Walker bit back his retort, suppressing his natural disgust at Crosby in the interest of getting more info. He suddenly wished Rebecca or Ronan had been here to hear Crosby dismiss Ellison and Carly. Rebecca would have whacked Crosby’s head off with one swipe of her paw. For that matter, Walker would love to see Crosby’s face when confronted with the gigantic form of Rebecca as a Kodiak bear.

  “The Shifter lived,” Walker said. “Is up walking around.”

  Crosby nodded. “I know, sir. LTC wanted him shot to find out how much he could take.”

  “I guess the LTC found out,” Walker said. “Even if the Shifter had to suffer a lot.”

  “Yes, sir.” Crosby kept his hands on the table, his expression remaining blank.

  “My original training was as a medic,” Walker said, abandoning the soup and moving around mashed potatoes that didn’t look much different from the soup. “For a special forces A-Team.”

  Crosby’s look now turned to respect. “Infiltration. Love to be picked for one of those missions.”

  Walker didn’t answer. A-Teams were small and often cut off from any support behind enemy lines for long stretches of time. The men in them needed to be able to adapt and react, think and judge, far from any chains of command. Crosby was an unthinking machine, ready to let someone in charge point him and shoot. He wouldn’t be much use in a situation in which he needed to take initiative, or even to take over.

  “I’ve seen pretty bad injuries,” Walker said. “But never saw anyone walk away from something like what you did to the tiger.”

  “The Shifter’s pretty strong.”

  Walker patiently ate another bite of potatoes. “If you get any more orders concerning the tiger Shifter—any Shifter—mention it to me before you go, okay? I like to keep track of my men in case I need someone for a mission.”

  “Yes, sir.” Crosby never asked questions.

  “Enjoy your lunch, Sergeant.”

  Walker rose with his tray, and Crosby jumped to his feet at attention. “Yes, sir.”

  Walker left the room, carrying the tray to the private room, which was mercifully empty. He sat down and ate every bite of his hot lunch, as he’d learned to, but his mind was a long way from the food.

  * * *

  Carly lay in warm sunshine in her sisters’ guest room, feathering kisses across Tiger’s bare chest.

  He was awake, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, sunlight dancing on the orange and black in his hair. The bedsheets were on the floor, their only cover the sunshine.

  “I never knew it could feel that good,” Carly said.

  “I didn’t know either.” The words rumbled in Tiger’s chest, touched with wonder.

  Carly traced lazy circles across his chest, her fingers finding and tugging at his flat nipple. “I only met you a few days ago. And now I can’t imagine how I got through my life before you were in it.”

  Tiger unlaced his hand and pressed it between Carly’s breasts. “You feel the mate bond. It’s strong between us.”

  His hand was warm, her heart beating faster beneath it. “I don’t know what a mate bond is. Or a mate-claim, or what the sun and moon have to do with any of it. I only know that my world turned upside down when I met you. And I’m glad it did.”

  Tiger stroked between her breasts with light fingertips, then drew them out, as though following patterns in the air only he could see.

  “I’m glad we did it on the counter,” she said. “Kind of exorcized it.”

  Tiger’s brows furrowed. “Hmm?”

  “You know, because that’s where I caught Ethan.” Ethan seemed insignificant and far away now. “But from now on when I think about doing it on a kitchen counter, I’ll remember how amazing it was with you.”

  “Good.” Tiger’s voice held a hint of a growl. “You should only think of me.”

  “Conceited.” Carly smiled as she leaned down and kissed his lips. Tiger’s return kiss was gentle but tinged with heat.

  He was getting better at kissing, learning to use lips and tongue to draw out sensual pleasure. Tiger hadn’t liked to stop kissing her, even to shed the rest of his clothes before carrying her up here.

  More kissing as they entered the bedroom, and Tiger laid her down and climbed back inside her. He’d loved her again until she thought she’d pass out from the intensity of it, and even now, he d
idn’t look tired.

  Carly loved it, but she’d also known, when he’d looked down into her eyes, that he was saying good-bye.

  Carly looked down at him now and touched his cheek. “Don’t leave without me,” she said softly. “I just found you, Tiger. I’m not ready to let you go.”

  He took on his stubborn look. “It’s safer if you stay.”

  “Screw safer.” Carly sat up, her hair tumbling forward. “I told you, I chased safety because I thought it would make up for what my dad did to us. But it doesn’t. It just means your life goes nowhere. And anyway, I don’t believe anymore that there’s any such thing as safety. I fooled myself into believing it, that’s all.”

  He looked at her as though not paying attention to a word she said. “I can move faster without you.”

  “That’s probably true. But you don’t know where to go, or how to live as a human. You’ll give yourself away as soon as you try to buy food or find a car or a place to sleep. And if anyone sees you change into a Tiger—sheesh. Every hunter will be after you with a shotgun. Sure, you can throw bullets out of your body, but I bet too many blasts, and you’re dead.”

  “Cutting off my head would probably work too,” Tiger said, face straight.

  “It’s not funny. You need me, and you know it.”

  Tiger again moved his fingertips through the air, his eyes on what he touched, whatever it was. “I need to protect you. I didn’t protect my mate before, or my cub.”

  “From what you’ve told me, you didn’t have a chance. The researchers locked you away from them and wouldn’t let you see them. Well, I don’t want to be kept away from you.”

  Tiger’s face went hard. “You have so much here. Your family. All that will be gone if you run away with me.”

  “I understand the risks,” Carly said angrily.

  “I think you don’t.”

  Carly’s retort cut off as she heard the noise of a car below, then the slamming of doors.

  Tiger was off the bed in a single second, moving to the window without a sound. He kept to the shadows, looking out.

  “It is not the soldiers for the Bureau,” he said in a low voice. “Or Shifters.”

  Carly heard voices now, shrill and laughing, and her heart sank. “Shit, what are they doing home already? They’re supposed to be gone until next week. And, crap, we left our clothes downstairs.”

  She scrambled off the bed, throwing open the closet to grab for the spare T-shirts and jeans she left here. Tiger was out of luck though.

  “Stay here,” Carly said to him. “I’ll talk my way out of this somehow. We can sneak you downstairs and out later.”

  Tiger remained by the window, hidden to all below. Carly thought he looked wistful somehow, as he watched her sisters as they jabbered in their shrill voices, their mother answering as loudly.

  Carly hurried down the stairs in her bare feet. The staircase spilled out into the wide foyer that was open to the kitchen. She hit the bottom step, ready to dash in and grab all the clothes, when her sisters and mother walked in through the back door, hands full of boxes, bags, clothes on hangers.

  “Carly?” Althea, her oldest sister, said in surprise. “I hope that’s not your piece-of-crap car in the garage. I almost slammed into it.”

  “Never mind about the car,” Zoë, the second oldest, said. She grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter and used it to lift the red boxers covered with black hearts from the kitchen floor. “Whose are these? Carly, you bad, bad girl.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Put those down. It’s not what you think.”

  “No?” Zoë raised her brows at Carly over the underwear. “I think it’s a pair of men’s sexy underwear on our kitchen floor. Or were you playing dress-up? And you didn’t invite us?”

  The Randal next youngest to Carly, Janine Randal-Johnson, respectably married with a kid, said, “Those don’t look like something Ethan would wear.”

  Carly put her hands on her hips. “And you’d know all about Ethan’s underwear how?”

  “Janine’s right,” Zoë said. “These don’t look like the boulder holders of a man who wears suits in a hundred degree weather and knows every chichi restaurant in Austin. So who is he, Carly? And where is he? Upstairs?”

  Zoë started for the stairs, carrying the underwear like a banner. Carly stepped in front of her, grabbed the underwear, and blocked Zoë’s way up. “No!”

  “So, not Ethan,” Althea said. “Carly, good for you.”

  “Oh, Carly,” Janine said, sounding sad. She alone of Carly’s sisters had thought Ethan a good catch.

  “Would you pipe down?” Carly said. “No, it’s not Ethan. Ethan and I . . . broke up.”

  Such a tame term for the volatile events of the last few days.

  “Carly, why didn’t you call me?” Carly’s mother, Rosalie, went around Zoë and pulled Carly into a hug. “Did you have an argument? Honey, you can tell us.”

  “She doesn’t have to tell us anything.” Zoë moved back to the kitchen, where she and Althea shared a double high five. “Ding-dong, the bitch is dead. By the bitch, I mean Ethan.”

  “Zoë,” Rosalie said sternly. “This isn’t funny. Carly’s broken up with the man she was going to marry. She obviously met someone on the rebound. You need to talk to us, sweetie.”

  “Couldn’t you have worked it out?” Janine asked. “I mean, Ethan’s filthy rich. Make him buy you a car or something. Better than that hunk of junk—please don’t tell me that’s the new boyfriend’s car.”

  “Ew,” Althea said. “What did you do, pick up a guy at a pool hall? Please tell me you made him bathe. And that he didn’t use my good bath towels.”

  “Will you all please shut up!” Carly yelled. She backed up, holding Tiger’s underwear close, one hand up, stiff, to stave them off. “I caught Ethan screwing another woman, and I threw the engagement ring at him. End of story.”

  They stared at her, openmouthed, Zoë’s and Althea’s expressions changing from glee to stark surprise. Carly realized after a few heartbeats that they weren’t staring at her, they were staring past her, up the stairs, at someone else.

  She swung around and saw him a few steps behind her, one of Althea’s precious towels tucked around his waist, the towel barely large enough to fit around him.

  Moments stretched while Tiger stared down at them, and Carly’s sisters and mother stared up at Tiger.

  “Okay,” Janine said after a beat of silence. “I’ll admit it. You traded up.”

  * * *

  How it happened that Tiger ended up dressed again and seated in the middle of the couch in the family room, Althea and Zoë on either side of him, Carly couldn’t remember. The time seemed to buzz by her like a fly against glass.

  Althea and Zoë each held a large balloonlike glass of red wine, and her mother had poured herself and Carly each one as Rosalie cleaned up the kitchen and started prepping for dinner. Janine sat at the kitchen table looking on, but she wanted only bottled water after the long trip.

  They’d returned from shopping early, Carly’s mother said, because they’d run out of money. That was just like Carly’s sisters. While Carly and Janine had both reacted to their father’s desertion by wanting to be careful, Althea and Zoë had compensated by living as largely as possible—traveling, shopping, being expansive and generous. They’d been older, though, when their father had gone, already planning their decorating business together as soon as they finished their fine arts degrees. Life had been good to them business-wise, enabling them to buy this big house and go on shopping sprees whenever they wanted.

  In love, though, they’d not been as lucky. Althea had gotten married during college and divorced two years later, saying she didn’t want a husband who expected her to give up her dreams so she could wait on him hand and foot. Zoë had run through a series of boyfriends, none of whom had lasted long. Janine had, happily, married the sweetest guy—Simon—and now had a son who’d inherited his father’s sunny disposition.
>
  Without exception, the sisters were interested in Tiger. He held a beer between his big hands, quietly watching, but not looking unhappy, as Althea and Zoë plied him with questions.

  “So, where you from? Not Texas, I take it.”

  “Nevada,” Tiger answered.

  “What part?”

  “Around Las Vegas.”

  “Ooh, that sounds fun. How about a road trip there, Carly?”

  “You just got home,” Carly said to Althea. “And give him a break.”

  Zoë took up the gauntlet on his other side. “So, how did you and Carly meet?”

  “Carly gave me a ride,” Tiger said.

  “Then she really did pick you up.” Zoë laughed. “Great dye job on your hair, by the way. I might try it. What do you do for a living?”

  Tiger contemplated a moment, then answered, “I fix cars.”

  Carly let out her pent-up breath. He was telling the truth but in a way they wouldn’t question it.

  “You didn’t do such a hot job on the one in the garage,” Zoë said.

  “That’s not mine. We borrowed it.”

  Althea looked at him in confusion. “Then where’s your car, Carly? If you picked him up?”

  “I didn’t pick him up today,” Carly said. “My car got wrecked.”

  “What?” All four Randal women shrieked, but not in synch. They demanded to know what happened, and Carly had to wait until they quieted before she gave them a truncated version of events, including Tiger being there when she’d caught Ethan. She told them that Tiger’s name was Bram, the first name that popped into her head for some reason.

  Carly ended by saying she’d brought Tiger here today, where she thought they’d have a little peace and quiet. Her pointed look was met with oblivious stares.

  “What a romantic story,” Zoë said, sighing happily. “A chance meeting, Ethan being a bastard, this guy scaring the crap out of Ethan.”

  Tiger didn’t answer her, because he was looking over at Janine. “You have a little one.”

  Janine brightened, as she did whenever someone mentioned her son. “Did Carly tell you? Yes, a little boy. He’s almost two.”