The Tiger King (Paladin Shifters Book 1)

by Patricia Logan

  “Doing, little kitty? What am I doing?” Damiano couldn’t help himself as the sudden urge came over him to take what nature had given him. He suddenly wanted Paget naked beneath him desperately.

  “Snap the hell out of it, Primero!” Paget all but hissed. “And let me loose.” Then, under his breath, Damiano swore he heard him say something like, “All you paladin are brutes… and you, the leader of them all.” He instantly let go of his smaller mate and Paget rocked back on his heels, still holding the silver tray and its covered dishes which rattled on the tray.

  “You call me a brute because I’ve devoted my life to learning the art of war in service to my king?” He stared at Paget, whose eyes had grown wide. He leaned close to Paget and spoke in a barely-audible whisper. “Yes, I suppose I am a brute but I’ve never killed without cause and I’ve never knowingly taken the life of an innocent. The men who stormed into this palace and took Pasha Raab to the pit, took the life of a great man whom I served, even from afar. But, such men will never touch the life of King Fain and his future queen. History will not repeat itself under my watch, little kitty, and if thinking of me as a wild animal or a brute gives you something to call me, then so be it. I am.”

  Paget’s eyes narrowed but Damiano noticed a slight quiver in his lower lip as though he was trying desperately not to say something out loud. When he did speak, it was barely a whisper.

  “Please forget me, Primero. Nature made a terrible mistake.” His eyes became glossy. “Even if I wanted a mate, there is no way I could take one living here in the palace. I’d be flayed alive and you’d be… I don’t want to think of what King Fain would do to a traitor.” He shook his head making the gold in his light hair glow from the dim lighting in the hallway. He balanced his tray in one hand and reached out, taking hold of Damiano’s shoulder. “I couldn’t stand to see that happen to my mate, Damiano. Please stay away from me. Forget you ever met this servant and put me out of your mind. If you stay, I have to go.”

  Damiano’s heart started to race. He’d been playing with Paget, thinking if he teased him enough, somehow, his mate would realize that they were fighting something neither of them could ever win. As much as he’d never wanted or expected to find his mate, much less, a man as beautiful as Paget, he never expected to lose him so quickly after finding him. Paget dropped his gaze and his hand fell away. The spell Damiano had been under was broken.

  He watched as Paget adjusted the balance of the tray he was holding with both hands and with no more glances, he turned back toward the king’s chamber. He stopped in front of the massive wooden double doors and knocked softly. The king’s booming voice bid him enter only a moment later and Paget let himself in. As the door was about to close, Damiano caught sight of Paget’s gaze on him through the crack. The pain in his gorgeous green eyes was stark and suddenly, Damiano felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. The door closed with a snick and he turned away, walking back the way he’d come.

  ****

  Damiano felt like he’d explored for hours by the time he reached the deepest level of the palace. He’d covered the entire downstairs and went in search of the servant’s level, almost hoping he’d run into Paget beneath the rest of the palace. He knew he shouldn’t want to run into him again. He knew how hard it would be for him not to touch Paget. The effect of the mating hormones that had been released in his blood when they kissed affected him intensely, much worse than he’d ever expected them to. He’d read about such things of course, but when faced with them, reality was much worse than he’d ever read about. If he encountered his kitty in private again, Damiano wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hold himself back.

  The stone steps were narrow going down but there was a hum of life below him. That and the most delectable scents of baking and cooking foods that Damiano had ever smelled, drew him further. As he hit the lowest step, the first thing he noticed was how narrow the corridors and how low the ceilings were. There hadn’t been a lot of thought put into the construction of the lowest floor for a man of his size. Damiano was many inches over six feet and as he stood tall, he realized there was only a foot or so of clearance between the ceiling and the top of his head. He was relieved that his primary weapons were guns and the twin Damascus blades he wore at his waist. If he’d carried a sword, using it in these small spaces would be difficult, though he would manage.

  He proceeded down the narrow corridor to the kitchen, listening to the comforting sounds of laughter and chatter coming from behind closed doors. Once he pushed them open, all sounds ceased almost immediately as the staff caught sight of him. Those who were occupied set down their trays and knives and immediately turned, standing at attention. Those not meeting his eyes bowed their heads in submission to the stronger cat. The absence of sounds was suddenly a cacophonous roar in his ears. Damiano was used to his troops coming to attention in this way but a room filled with servants who had been busy only moments before was something totally new to him. He glanced around for their leader and noticed a smaller cat coming toward him. She wore a white coat and chef’s hat and was an older woman he thought he recognized from their brief introduction on the drive. She stopped in front of him and bowed at the waist. She remained in the bow until he cleared his throat and spoke.

  “You are the head cook?”

  She lifted her head and straightened her plump body. When she caught his glance, he noticed the curious way she appraised him, glancing up and down his much taller form before finally letting a tiny smile curl her lips.

  “I am Cook, Paladin Primero. Welcome to the king’s kitchens.”

  “Thank you.” He glanced around the room at the others, some of which were openly staring. “Please go back to what you were doing. Don’t let me disturb your preparations.” He turned back to Cook. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I am getting a feel for the palace and I stopped in to get the layout of the place.”

  “You are welcome anytime, Primero,” she said, still smiling. It was easy to see that she was a kind woman. “We are very busy preparing for your banquet. Perhaps you can tell me what you prefer to eat and I will make sure you are happy with what arrives on your tray in the mornings or what you’d like to see on the banquet table.”

  Damiano stared at her, not really prepared for that response. He’d been a leader of troops many times but to be treated any different from them, including what he ate or where he slept was odd to him. He wanted to be treated like anyone else. He wasn’t in the palace to become a pampered fat cat. He was there to carry out his orders which were to protect his king. Nevertheless, he expected there were many that expected that of him. Perhaps the previous primero had been that kind of cat but he was not going to be. He was there because he had a job to do. He smiled at Cook.

  “Everything smells delectable, Cook.” He glanced at a tray filled with raw steaks that had been thickly cut and were running with bloody juices. He had no doubt they were not going to be set on the banquet table uncooked, exactly as they were. He turned back to her and smiled again. “I’m certain whatever you prepare will be delicious. I have no special requests. Please feed me whatever you feed the rest of the paladin in the palace.”

  She smiled at him.

  “Can you tell me where I can find the paladin barracks? I have to meet with the head of the guard.”

  “Of course, Primero.” She turned and pointed back to the corridor he’d just come from. “If you proceed back down that hallway, halfway down, you need to make a right turn. That corridor will take you to the armory. The paladin bunks are there. The askari sleep in barracks outside the palace. Paladin Stevens is the cat you need to ask for. He is the highest-ranking paladin other than yourself. He will show you around.” She turned to the other kitchen servants in the room. “Back to work, you lazy cats.”

  Damiano felt the smile pull at his lips but he put his feet together and bowed to her. “Thank you.”

  She let out a very female giggle. “Oh, you are a charmer, Primero. I can see why the others
in the palace are so interested in you.”

  Damiano straightened and raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. He wondered who had been talking about him but then again, he figured that a lot of palace gossip made its way down to the kitchen since so many of the servants constantly filed in and out of it. In fact, a lot of gossip probably originated in the kitchen to begin with. It was the central hub for servants, sort of like the nerve center of the palace. He wondered if Paget had been down here and then he realized that of course he had. Damiano had seen him not too long ago with a tray in his hands. A thought occurred to him.

  “Are you close to the first subaltern then?”

  “Paget?” Her eyes twinkled. “Yes. He’s one of my closest friends.”

  Damiano cocked an eyebrow and flared his nostrils. He immediately scented concern and… is that amusement? She knows I’m his mate. Jesus, why would he tell anyone? Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is?

  He lowered his voice until only she could hear him over the noise that had resumed. “He tells you things, doesn’t he?”

  For the first time since he’d met her, he caught a scent of fear from her as she suddenly sobered. “He is a good man, Primero.” She lowered her gaze, submissively looking at the ground. “I beg you to stay away from him. I love him like a son and losing him would tear this old woman’s heart out.”

  Damiano understood her fear and he felt for her. He could see her trembling all over and sense her worry for Paget. Her words struck him though. Knowing that another person was aware of his mating with Paget should be terrifying because should it be widely known, they would both be put to death. But his mate must have trusted this woman to tell her. He had no doubt she spoke the truth when she said she could smell their mating on him. He wasn’t sure at all what he should do with the knowledge though at least he could be certain she wouldn’t divulge their secret. He reached out and touched her forearm. The moment he did, he felt a slight tingling in his hand. It almost hurt and he released her.

  “Thank you for the warning, Cook. We both understand the danger but knowing he has one strong ally in the palace is important to me.”

  She frowned at him. “I am loyal to Paget, however, I don’t know you. The last primero was a petty and cruel man who punished harshly and indiscriminately for the smallest infraction.” She turned and called to one of the younger girls who stood, stirring a pot. “Come here, Lacy.”

  The young cat looked up with frightened wide eyes and froze. Her beautiful face was marred by a claw mark that ran down one cheek from the corner of her eye to her mouth. The moment Damiano saw it, he went cold inside. He watched her carefully remove her long stirring spoon and lay it in a dish on the marble counter. Lowering her eyes and keeping her head down, she shuffled toward them. She stopped in front of them and Damiano scented the terror coming off her. Cook reached up and gently took her chin in her hand, raising her face as tears rolled out of her eyes.

  “He did this to her when he found his tea wasn’t the right temperature for him.” Cook turned the girl’s face to the side as Damiano took note of the deep groove in her otherwise beautiful face. “Afterward, he wouldn’t let her shift to heal so that she would scar.”

  Damiano’s anger was so palpable, Lacy ripped her face out of Cook’s hand and stumbled backward. He had to reach out and grab her by both arms to steady her so she wouldn’t stumble and fall. Again, he felt the uncomfortable tingle in his hands but he ignored it.

  “I mean you no harm, Lacy,” he said looking down into her terrified eyes as the kitchen went silent again. The room was suddenly filled with mixed scents of fear and anger. He glanced up and looked around the room as he let her go. “It occurs to me that you haven’t been treated fairly in the past but I want you to know that I will never let anyone do this to you. If any one of you has problems with the paladin or anyone in the palace, I want you to come to me and tell me. I will take care that they follow the rules. It is clear to me that this palace was run with fear and intimidation in the recent past. Transgressions like what was done to Lacy will not happen as long as I have a say in it. I will not allow dishonorable men or women to serve under my watch in the palace. Is that clear to all of you?”

  “Time will tell, Primero,” Cook said, breaking the silence. She turned to Lacy and spoke softly, like a beloved parent. “Go back to work, girl.”

  She turned frightened eyes on Cook and Damiano felt her scent change. She bowed but when she raised her face again, she met Damiano’s gaze with a distrustful one. She bowed deeply and turned to scurry back to the stove.

  “Your actions will speak louder than your promises, Primero,” Cook said quietly. “Until then, I need to get these preparations completed for tonight.”

  It was Damiano’s turn to bow. “Please go back to work, Cook. I look forward to eating your food. If it tastes as good as it smells, I can’t wait.” He acknowledged her bow before she turned away and walked back toward a room where the scents of baking were strong. He turned on his heel and left the palace kitchen, following her directions as he walked back out into the hall.

  Chapter Nine

  D amiano was furious about what he’d found in the kitchen. He’d guessed that the previous primero had been a bastard but to actually witness the abuse Lacy had suffered at his claw infuriated him. He had no doubt that in the past such cruelty had extended to the rest of the troops tasked with providing protection to the royal family. If the head of the fish was spoiled, usually the rest of it was as well. Damiano walked down the hall and then stopped at a crossroad where the hallway branched off in two directions. Cook had explained that he was to make a right to get to the armory where he’d find the captain of the paladin warriors but he was curious as to what lay down the corridor to the left.

  He turned into it and followed the dimly-lit corridor until it ended at a door. It was padlocked and he reached out, lifting the padlock in his hand. It looked as though it was covered with rust but as he examined the lock closely, he could see that it had very recently been open and closed several times. A bright and shiny ring around the steel pin where it dropped into the lock itself was just visible. Damiano tested it only to find it locked. He would have to ask Stevens what was kept behind the door as soon as he found him. He leaned close to the solid wood, tuning his ears to any sounds from the room beyond but was able to hear nothing out of the ordinary with his human ears. They simply weren’t strong enough. In his shifted form, things would be different but for now, he’d have to abandon that search. He would be back with a key, though. Frustrated, Damiano dropped the lock and turned, making his way back down the hall.

  Damiano walked back the way he’d come and then took the right branch, going down a much brighter corridor. As he neared the end, he heard several voices, carrying on conversations. When he reached a door similar to the one in the other corridor, he tested the handle. This one opened easily. He pushed the door wide and was not surprised when he walked into a common room filled with paladin. As they realized who entered, they jumped to their feet, standing at attention as all conversation instantly ceased.

  “At ease,” he said. The paladin breathed a sigh of relief as one stepped forward.

  “Paladin Primero, we weren’t expecting you until after the banquet,” he said. The man was older than Damiano by ten years or so. He had a proud bearing but he was shorter than Damiano. He wasn’t surprised by that. Most cats were shorter than he was. Only a few, like Cortez, were taller and broader than he was. “I am Captain Peter Stevens,” the paladin said, introducing himself.

  “I expected you to find me the moment you returned with the king. You were absent from the ceremony,” Damiano said, glaring at the man. The fact that the captain had missed the ceremony where he was introduced as the new primero bothered Damiano, not because he cared even a little bit about being recognized and presented with the king’s medallion, but because it was an insult for his second in command not to show up for the ceremony. The man had better have a damned good e
xcuse for his absence because after seeing what had been done to Lacy, the kitchen maid, Damiano was in a foul mood.

  “Please forgive me, Primero,” Stevens said. “Primero Johansen didn’t allow any of the paladin to attend ceremonies. He was the exception but I didn’t want to presume to attend without meeting you first.”

  Damiano thought that was a pretty good excuse as excuses went, but the man had made no effort to find him after returning from the hunt before the ceremony. He had to wonder if Johansen was such an asshole that he punished his men as indiscriminately as he did the rest of the staff.

  “You have no palace guard that attend the king wherever he is?” he asked, dumbfounded. Paladin should be at the king’s side at all times no matter where he was, including posted outside his chamber where they’d been suspiciously absent when Damiano had checked out the upstairs.

  Stevens’s eyes widened and he stood straighter as he stared at Damiano. “That was not the way of things when Primero Johansen was here, Primero,” he said, simply. “The palace is impenetrable by outsiders.”

  “Well, it’s the way of it now, Stevens. As any of you should know, it is not always the outsiders who are a threat to the king. Pasha Raab was betrayed by his own primero.” Damiano could hear the angry growl in his own voice. “The king is to be flanked by a paladin guard at all times. I want at least ten men guarding him while he is in the palace and I want two men posted outside his bedchamber whenever he retires. You are the king’s knights. That should have been obvious to you all along.”

  “Yes, sir. I am aware of that but as I say, that was not the way of Primero Johansen,” Stevens said. Damiano thought he sounded both embarrassed and relieved.

  “I need to speak with you in private, Stevens.”

  Stevens nodded and then held out a hand, showing him a door. “This is my private office, sir. Yours is right beside it. Perhaps you’d like to talk in there?”