Tiger's Heart

by Leslie Chase

  “I just need to find him.”

  The frustration and anger in his voice made her wince. There was a hard core to him, an intoxicating danger that made him both alluring and scary. Her tiger was a terrifying enemy, and she couldn’t fathom why someone would want to make him angry.

  Of course, Sir Daniel didn’t seem to be very well balanced, and in any case, his plan was to steal the magic that made Maxwell so dangerous. From his point of view, it might be worth the risk.

  “I think…” Her words trailed off, and Maxwell made a quiet questioning noise, squeezing her hand.

  “I might have an idea for how you could find him?” She knew she didn’t sound confident, but the idea was in her mind now, and she might as well share it. “If he’s following the link between the silver sword and me, then couldn’t you follow it the other way?”

  She had a moment’s satisfaction from the way he looked at her. His beautiful amber eyes wide with surprise, and his face lit up. “That — that might actually work!”

  “Don’t be so shocked that I can think of something useful to do!” Lenore tried to sound stern but knew that her smile spoiled the effect. She was pretty new to this, after all — if she was surprised that she had a useful idea, why shouldn’t he be?

  “I’m sorry, Lenore,” Maxwell said, shaking his head and smiling broadly. “But that’s brilliant. Not easy, and it would be easier with help, but I can do it. Wherever he is, I can track him down, thanks to you.”

  Her heart swelled at the idea that she’d given him a useful suggestion. “How do we start?”

  4

  Hunting the Hunter

  It turned out to be both less and more involved than she’d expected. Maxwell fetched a silver bowl, a lighter, and a candle, taking them back to the brook beside the cabin.

  “I’m not a magician,” he explained. “A witch could probably do this with ease, but we’re going to have to make it up as we go along, I’m afraid. Fortunately, there’s a lot of magic in the area, which will make it easier,” he said.

  “I’m going to take my tiger form, and you concentrate on the Sword. Look into the water, and try and see it there by candlelight. Then. Um. Hopefully I’ll be able to follow that link?”

  He sounded adorably embarrassed in his uncertainty, and Lenore laughed. “Okay, I guess that sounds like it might work. Have you never done anything like this before?”

  “Well, not exactly. I’ve hunted people with magical help a time or two, but it was always the witch I worked with who knew what she was doing.

  “The closest I’ve come to doing this myself was hunting you when Sir Daniel had you. And we got it to work then, didn’t we? So this should be doable. I just hope he’s close enough to reach easily, but I have no doubt he tracked us to the Highlands while we were on the road to the Castle. He’s been trying to find us hard enough that he shouldn’t be too far away.”

  That was a thought to make Lenore shiver, but it also firmed her resolve.

  “So, ah, do you want to do this now?” she asked, looking nervously at the tools laid out by the stream. I’ve never done anything even slightly like this!

  Well, there had been that one teenaged attempt at a séance, but that had just been an embarrassing failure. The idea that she could follow a magical sword felt too silly. But Maxwell looked entirely convinced that it could work.

  “There’s no time like the present, darling,” he assured her with a hug. “No point in giving him more time to find us than we have to, after all.”

  “I suppose so,” she said dubiously. “Okay, let’s get on with it then.”

  “Good girl.” Maxwell kissed her on the forehead, and she smiled. His confidence in her, as always, made it easier for her to believe in herself.

  Stepping back from her, he undressed. Lenore couldn’t keep herself from watching as he pulled his top off. Catching her watching, he grinned at her, not at all embarrassed. Not for the first time, she wished she could be as free of self-consciousness as he was — but then, with a body as perfect as his, it would be easy!

  He stripped slowly, letting her savor the display as he slipped out of his clothes piece by piece until he stood naked, not bothered by the cold damp air. She shivered in the chill breeze and could only admire his perfection, wondering again how on earth she’d ended up with so gorgeous a man.

  “It’s time to start, darling,” he told her, and sank down to a crouch. By the time he’d finished the motion, it wasn’t a man she was watching but a tiger. She shivered again, fear running through her despite herself. It was a struggle not to leap away from the predator sitting close enough to reach out and touch.

  Maxwell’s mouth opened ever so slightly, and Lenore blushed bright, realizing he was laughing at her. “It’s not funny!”

  He hung his head, one mighty front paw rising to cover his eyes. It looked like an apology — maybe not a sincere one, but the best she was likely to get, and she couldn’t help laughing too.

  Well, no sense in dragging this out, she thought, and reached for the lighter.

  As soon as she lit the candle, things felt different. The chill receded around her, far more than the small flame could explain, and a faint tingling like pins and needles spread across her hands. Trying to ignore the tiger curled up beside her, Lenore focused on the sword. The damned sword that was the cause of all this.

  She could picture it clearly. After all it had been her favorite part of the India Museum exhibit — the mysterious Silver Sword of Kolkata, a traditional Indian talwar made of ornate silver rather than steel. She could see every nick and scratch on the blade, signs of combat on what everyone thought must have been a decorative weapon. Somehow, though, the silver had stood up to the rigors of combat.

  Now she knew it was shifter’s sword, and magic kept the soft metal intact. And the same magic bound it to her, a bond which she tried to follow.

  There was a faint tugging feeling, something leading off to the side, and she frowned. It felt as though it was anchored on her heart, and looking down, she could almost see something — like the faint shadow of a silver cord leading off into the distance.

  Next to her, Maxwell stirred, rising to his feet and padding forwards. He took a deep breath, tasting the air, and purred a deep and approving rumble. Turning his head towards her, the tiger’s ears flicked forwards and back. Then he turned away and bounded off in the direction the spiritual cord led.

  What now? Lenore asked herself, trying to keep her focus. The world around her seemed distant and faded, aside from the small circle of candlelight in which she sat. She wondered if it was safe to move, but something told her not to. That she could break the spell, and lose the trail Maxwell was following. So she stayed put, looking into the mirror-flat surface of the water, trying to imagine what was happening to Maxwell on his hunt.

  The reflection of the candle in the bowl shifted as she watched it, and while she held the picture of the talwar in her mind, in the water she saw a tiger pushing through the damp Scottish undergrowth at speed. She watched Maxwell bound forwards, chasing down the link between her and their enemies.

  Part of her thought that it wasn’t real, that it was just her imagination, but it was too vivid - and, she told herself, this was a stupid time to doubt that magic worked. Anyway, she knew she couldn’t have imagined the unfamiliar countryside so solidly. So, heart in her mouth she watched as Maxwell stalked their prey.

  The route he followed wasn’t straight, it curved around hills and followed the terrain. But he was swift and sure in following it, and it was breath-taking to see how quickly he covered the ground. Even so, Lenore was shocked at how soon he reached his destination. She’d assumed that there would be hours of travel between them, but clearly Sir Daniel was a lot closer than she’d thought!

  Following the silver cord that joined her to the Silver Sword of Kolkatta, Maxell wound up on a hill, lights burning at the top. An old farmhouse, she thought, looking at it with the tiger’s eyes — though the land around it
wasn’t being kept as a farm. Perhaps something converted into a summer home, or a holiday cottage? Whatever the building was, the trail led there and stopped.

  Maxwell moved slower now, staying low the ground as he stalked closer. His steps were careful and deliberate, slowly transferring the massive weight of the tiger forwards. He never risked making a noise by hurrying, never took a step without testing the ground first. It seemed to take him as long to climb the hill as it had taken him to reach it in the first place.

  His caution paid off, however. At the top of the steep hill, he came to a low wall made from crumbling stone surrounding the converted farmhouse, and stopped, keeping low. Behind it, men waited. Lenore didn’t understand how she knew that, but she was certain of it.

  Perhaps, she thought, Maxwell hears or smells them, and I know what he knows?

  All she heard was the wind in the trees around the cabin, as she watched the drama play out in the reflection.

  The candle’s flame dimmed, and Lenore didn’t know what would happen once it went out. It didn’t matter, really: Maxwell had found his prey, after all. Still, as frightened as she felt watching him, she wanted to know what happened. The dread of having to wait for him to return without knowing what had happened ate at her, and she struggled to not will him to act. That probably wouldn’t do anything, but she feared it might actually work. She’d never forgive herself if she urged him into acting too quickly, and something went wrong because of it!

  In the dark reflection, Maxwell crept along the wall, taking his time finding a safe place to cross it. There was a building just beyond it, and once he was sure it would provide the cover he needed, he hopped over in a gentle bound. He landed in the dark shadow of the building, a barn from the look of it, and looked around.

  The dark sheltered him only for a moment, and then lights came on in a brilliant glare that made Lenore wince away from the bowl, her heart racing. Surely he hadn’t been seen? He’d been so careful!

  By the time she could look back into the water, Maxwell was moving. He’d wasted no time trying to work out what had gone wrong; instead, he was putting distance between himself and the house, jumping the wall and skidding down the steep muddy slope beyond, aiming for the trees. But lights were flicking on there, too, men with torches emerging from hiding. Bright beams lanced across the darkness seeking him.

  Come on, she willed him, no longer caring if it was foolish to try and reach him through the mirror. Hurry, run, get away!

  Maxwell had other ideas. As soon as he saw the lights in the woods below, he turned and ran along the hillside, looping back towards the farm at its top and coming at it from another angle. The bright lights there were dazzling, and people were moving in front of them, looking out into the night. Lenore’s heart was in her mouth as she saw the guns in the men’s hands.

  Don’t be stupid, Maxwell!

  She watched as he sprinted up the hill, broad paws gaining traction in the mud, pushing him up fast as lightning to leap at one of the men. A brief flash of the stranger’s terrified face filled the bowl and then he was gone, slammed to the ground under Maxwell’s weight. The tiger didn’t pause for even a moment before bounding off into the next man.

  This one had time to raise his rifle, and there was a snarl on his face as he shouted something Lenore couldn’t hear. She couldn’t tell if he’d managed to get a shot off before Maxwell’s claws raked across his face, sending him flying backwards in an arc of crimson.

  Doors opened on the farmhouse and the barn beside it, men hurrying out with their guns at the level. Lenore felt Maxwell measuring the odds, making a lightning-fast calculation. In an instant he was diving for the door to the house with all the surprising speed a tiger could manage. She wanted to scream at him to go back, to run for the hills, but he was committed now, even if he’d been inclined to listen.

  The men in the doorway froze as five hundred pounds of predator rushed at them. Only one of them got a shot off before he was on them, slamming through with all his strength and weight. The impact of the shot staggered Maxwell, and others fired from behind him, ignoring the risk of hitting their comrades. When she saw a dart bury itself in the chest of one of them, Lenore understood why — if they were using the same tranquilizers as before, they could risk shooting their friends without worrying about killing them.

  In the second it took her to think that, Maxwell was through the group and on into the house, not stopping to let them get a bead on him. He crashed through into a kitchen, too fast for Lenore to see what was happening around him, and without stopping, he barreled through the other side, leaping through a window and back out into the night.

  5

  Big News

  It was hours before Maxwell returned, hours which Lenore spent pacing around the cabin. Once the candle had burnt out, she’d been unable to follow Maxwell’s escape, and had no way of knowing where or how safe he was. The bowl of water had shown her nothing more than a reflection of the sky, and without the candle, the cold had started to set in again.

  Huddling in the cabin, watching out of the window, she’d started to worry about what to do if Maxwell didn’t come back. The only idea she’d had was calling Penelope, and hoping that she could help. Maybe I should tell her what’s going on, but what if he’s okay? She’ll rush here and bring the Council and then everything’s messed up again!

  On the other hand, waiting too long would be worse. So Lenore dithered, looking from window to phone and back, until the door opened behind her.

  Jumping to her feet, she squeaked in surprise, dropping her phone as she spun around. Standing there framed in the doorway, was an exhausted-looking and muddy Maxwell, his broad chest heaving and his face set.

  “You’re okay!” Lenore flung herself at him, uncaring of the dirt clinging to him. “God, I was so worried!”

  His arms closed around her, hugging her tight, and she felt him shivering. The icy night air poured in through the open door, and she pulled him inside, letting the door swing shut.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, voice low and angry. “I didn’t get him. It was all another trap.”

  The last word came out a snarl, and she could feel the emotion in him as he held her. His muscles were locked tight, as though he were fighting with an urge to smash something.

  “You did what you could,” she said, trying for a reassuring tone of voice. He sighed, made a visible effort to relax, and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

  “It doesn’t matter what I did, though. What matters is that I didn’t get the bastard who’s hunting us. Hunting you. And now he knows we’re nearby, too.”

  Lenore took a step back, looking up into his eyes and putting as much determination as she could into her voice.

  “No, Maxwell. You can’t blame yourself for this. You did everything you could to get to him, didn’t you? And Sir Daniel must have already known roughly where we are, to be so close, so that’s not your fault either! We’ll just have to try something else.”

  Maxwell’s stony face cracked, a smile emerging unwillingly. “You don’t make it easy to stay upset with myself, Lenore.”

  “Well, good!” She smiled back at him. “It’s Sir Daniel who should take the blame for this, for all of this, not you.”

  “But I could have done more.” He held up his hand tiredly, forestalling her interruption. “No, honestly, I could have. He set a trap, but I could have gone through it rather than escaping. I’d give myself fair odds of having found and killed Sir Daniel before they could take me down.”

  Lenore reached out to stroke his cheek, shaking her head. “But they’d still have taken you down, wouldn’t they? So I’d have lost you, even if you had gotten to him first. That’s not what I want, Maxwell. I couldn’t bear to live without you.”

  Maxwell reached up to take her hand in his, squeezing gently. “I couldn’t be without you either, Lenore. That’s why I didn’t risk it — going for Sir Daniel would have completed the mission, but I would never have seen you again. I
was too selfish.”

  “That’s not selfish, Maxwell,” Lenore said. “If we’d been willing to do that, we might as well have gone along with Master Jamieson’s plan in the first place. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maxwell said with a grin, following her to the shower.

  Under the hot water, the mud washed off Maxwell easily, and Lenore ran her hands over him, marveling again at the gorgeous body of the man fate had chosen for her. There were a few new scratches on him, already healing. His nighttime dash through the Scottish countryside had taken him through thorns long enough to mark even a tiger’s skin, but it seemed a shifter didn’t have to worry about such things.

  She traced the marks with her fingertips as the hot water pounded down on them, thinking about how close his escape had been. Just a little bad luck and she’d never have seen him again. Maxwell had a somber look to him too, worried and trying to hide it — she wondered if the same thought preyed on both of them.

  After the long night, they were both too tired to do more than wash together, no matter how tempting his body was. A quick shower later, they toweled each other dry and collapsed on the bed, folding the covers over themselves and holding each other tight. Maxwell was even more exhausted than Lenore — understandably, given the chase he’d been on that night — and soon she found herself clinging to his sleeping form, her head on his chest rising and falling with his slow breaths.

  His heart beat a slow steady rhythm, and she found herself smiling at the sound. His firm, muscular body felt so right against her. His arms felt like home.

  In the darkness she couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine him smiling at her in his sleep. Whatever troubles they might face, she was sure they could get through them together.