by Nara Malone
“Relax,” Adam said, stroking hair back from her face. His voice took on a gentle hypnotic tone. “Put your head back, think calm happy thoughts.”
“Tell me the truth, Adam.”
He smiled, a smile so bright it made Ean squint. Calm oozed from Adam’s pores. How did he go from ready to rip the nurse’s heart out—and eat it while she watched—to making Marie sigh and flutter her lashes in just minutes? Marie’s pulse slowed, her breath deepened and she laid back.
Adam kept stroking her hair. “Everything will be fine. We’ll get you out of here and find some proper care.”
Ean disconnected the IV and pulled the needle from her arm. The exam room door banged open without the customary knock preceding it. The nurse led the charge with a doctor in tow and a security guard behind him. Ean ignored them. He pressed a cotton ball to Marie’s arm and told her to keep pressure there.
Adam tucked the paper sheet around her and lifted her.
“She’s decided to leave,” Ean told the gang at the door.
The doctor stepped around the nurse. “She needs a hospital.” He waved an iPhone. “I arranged a specialist and an ambulance.”
“Cancel them,” Ean said.
“Why a specialist? What’s wrong?” Marie’s state bordered on hysteria, her blood pressure was through the roof and this idiot had to make things worse.
“Clear the way, Ean,” Adam growled. His glare shot flames.
All three took a step back when Ean turned and faced them but he was sure it was Adam that scared them. Adam was scaring him.
They huddled against the door when Adam shoved past. Ean maneuvered to keep himself between his family and the medical team, uncertain who needed the protecting.
Ean tried to put his hand on the nurse’s shoulder. She flinched away. He tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt instead and hoped to appear more professional than he felt. He met the doctor’s eyes when he spoke, keeping his voice low and calm.
“I’m her doctor and she will get the care she needs. Her mental state is fragile, Dissociative Identity Disorder. We’d made such progress with her. The pregnancy will bring on a regression. We have to get her back to the facility where we can monitor her and adjust her medications.”
It was like watching a cold front come in. Their expressions went from indignant to frosty. The doctor mentioned waiting patients and exited. The security guard followed the doctor’s example and remembered something he had to do. The nurse, to her credit, didn’t look ready to concede but knew she’d be fighting a losing battle. Mental patients weren’t easy patients or easy money. She pointed to Marie’s purse and a plastic sack of clothes on a chair near the bed. “She’ll want her things.”
She left then, and he took the opportunity to grab Marie’s chart, snatching all the papers and stuffing them in the sack. That’s when he noticed, when he looked up, the picture on the wall. A man, the doctor he realized, hugging a lion, holding its sagging head so lifeless eyes could stare into the camera lens, a rifle leaning on a rock beside him. Ean’s jaw dropped. There were other pictures, lined up on the walls like a museum exhibition, only the victims changed. A big horn sheep, a moose, a zebra. Ean’s stomach went queasy.
It was like looking at a serial killer’s gallery. And while this sort of display might be accepted among humans, in no society Ean could imagine was it the proper thing to grace the walls of a medical facility.
Ean! Adam’s urgent mental nudge broke the spell.
Ean grabbed Marie’s things and raced down the hall. He put himself between the receptionist and the phone when he leaned over the counter to grab the stack of folders on her desk.
“How much does she owe?” he demanded, plucking the one with Marie’s name from the pile. There wasn’t a terminal by this desk so he was fairly certain nothing had been entered in a database.
“Those are the clinic’s property,” she said, making a grab for Marie’s folder. Ean held it out of reach. He didn’t have time for this. They’d have to deposit funds to the clinic later when they hacked in to check the database.
“I’ll bring them back,” he lied. “We need this info for a hospital admission. I’ll pay up her bill then.”
He ran for the parking lot. They needed to get on the road and keep their fingers crossed that the police wouldn’t be called.
Adam had the van at the front door.
Marie huddled pale and frightened in the passenger seat.
Ean hopped in the back of the van. Adam had it moving before the door was shut.
“Let’s pull around back out of the way,” he said.”We’ll make Marie more comfortable.”
Ean snatched a blanket from the heap he’d thrown in the van before they left the house. With a snap he shook out wrinkles and spread it on the floor.
The van stopped. Adam set the parking brake and helped Marie into the back. Ean settled her on the blanket. He glanced nervously around the tight space.
“Are you sure there’s enough room?”
“Enough room?” Marie looked between them.”Room for what? You could hold a square dance in here.”
Adam took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and exhaled.
“Maybe you should sit up front,” he told Ean. Things might get a little…exciting. He was shrugging out of his clothes and pitching them into the front seat.
Ean kissed Marie’s cheek. Her pupils narrowed. She put her hand in his, pleading for truth.”What’s going on?”
Ean squeezed her hand and moved to the passenger seat.
“Listen, love, there isn’t a lot of time for explanations.” Adam unfastened the tie on her hospital gown and slid it down her arms.”As things stand, they might only make matters worse, so I’m just going to do this.” He kissed her other cheek.”Remember I love you,” he whispered.
Marie opened her mouth, her eyes flashed wide. She put a hand up, palm out as if that could stop him. Adam pressed his own palm to hers. They vanished.
The air rippled and glowed. They reappeared a few seconds later. Adam still human. Marie not. The size shift slammed Adam against the side of the van hard enough to knock the wind out of him, trapping him between steel wall and tiger.
When Adam got his breath, he was the first to speak.
“Isn’t she stunning?”
White fur, black stripes, blue eyes. She would be unique among the Pantherian tigers.
Her tail twitched a warning.
“Stunning and really pissed off,” Ean said.
Adam scrambled for the front when she rose to all fours with an ear-popping snarl.
Ean put his finger to his lips.”Shh, someone might hear.”
Her response was more a roar than a growl. Adam dove into the driver’s seat. He managed to yank on his sweatpants and then struggled into his shirt while he released the brake and dropped the truck in gear.
“I think we better discuss this on the way home. Ean, you go back and look after her.”
Ean looked from him to her and back again.”Are you out of your mind?”
“She loves you. She won’t hurt you.”
Marie thrust her head between the seats and snarled, all her gleaming teeth bared.
“I think she disagrees.”
Adam was checking mirrors, the van rolling backward.
“Think soothing thoughts, Ean. Pet her.”
Ean eyed her teeth. He was not petting her.
He did try to find a soothing thought. It was hard to do while looking at teeth and jaws that could crack his head like a walnut, especially when he deserved to have his head cracked.
He started to hum a lullaby, well sort of a lullaby, Sweet Baby James. It occurred to him that he’d better learn some real lullabies for their babies.
Her ears twitched. He hoped the song would make her think of the babies and calm her. Her new nose captured her attention and she turned toward the back to sniff the sack with her things, the abandoned paper sheet, the blankets. One ear stayed cocked toward Ean. The van turned a corner and
bounced through a pothole. The movements threw her off balance and into the wall. She snarled. Her tail slapped Ean’s face. When she stood, another turn toppled her. She stayed down.
Ean kept humming. Her aggression seeped away but her breathing didn’t slow. It came in short shallow hitches. He didn’t like that woozy sway to her head. Very carefully he inched from his seat toward her, continuing to hum.
They were outside of town now; the roads lined by streetlights had given way to darkness. The green glow from the dash lights didn’t help his examination but Ean decided something in her manner had a green-around-the-gills aura. His hand shook when he reached to touch her ear. She could snap it off at the wrist faster than he could pull away.
Her eyes rolled and she made a distressed moaning sound.
“Adam?”
“Whatever it is, Ean, try to keep it under control for a few minutes. We have trouble.”
Yes we do, he thought, recognizing where he’d seen that glassy-eyed look Marie sent him. Then, from the corner of his eye he caught the blue light strobing in the mirror.
Shit. Had the clinic reported them?
“Tell me you were speeding,” Ean said. The van slowed, he felt the jolt of tires rolling from pavement to shoulder, heard gravel popping under the wheels.
“I wasn’t paying attention to the speed.”
Adam rolled his window down a crack. He warned Ean to keep Marie in the back, quiet and inconspicuous. As if it was possible for a full-grown white tiger to be inconspicuous. But Ean knew what he meant. Say the wrong thing, move the wrong way and you light a fuse that can’t be unlit. All that stood between them and a massive tiger hunt, with swat teams and helicopters, were their wits and glass windows that might as well be tissue paper should she bolt. If she sensed any threat at all, death waited in the officer’s gun. If they tranquilized her in her precarious state, the babies might not survive.
“We should try to switch her back, Adam.”
“Not enough time,” Adam whispered.”It’s too dangerous to her physically and then we would need to explain why we have a naked, pregnant woman whom we took from the clinic against the doctor’s wishes. And if they ask her if she went willingly, what do you think she’d say?” Adam sat straighter and put both hands on the steering wheel.
A flashlight beam scanned the dash and passenger seat. Ean held still, not daring to breathe. Marie put her head in his lap. He could see the officer’s face reflected in the mirror.
“Evening officer,” Adam said. “Was I going too fast?”
Marie lifted her head. Ean didn’t like the interested way her nostrils twitched. He put one finger to his lips. She didn’t understand. Her tail rose to twitch with interest too—right next to Adam’s ear. So much for hoping she would go unnoticed.
Ean watched the officer’s face pale, his eyes round, and his mouth drop open just before Marie rose to investigate.
She poked her head between the seats.”Um, this is Marie,” Adam said in a deadpan tone, as if he were introducing a family pet rather than a Pantherian tiger. “She’s really quite harmless.”
Ean hoped that was true. He watched her tail straighten and then cut through the air in a downward arc like a Samurai’s sword, leaving his hopes in ribbons.
Her body bunched.
Her back arched.
She made a strangled gurgling sound.
Then she vomited right in Adam’s lap.
They didn’t come any cooler than Adam. He was ready with a story. “That’s a female tiger’s way of inviting you to dinner. They normally only do that when they are weaning their cubs. We should feel honored.” He nodded respectfully to Marie.”Thank you, love. We’re not that hungry.” And then said to the officer, “I have her transport papers in the glove box. Would you like to see?”
Marie bunched and heaved again. The smell was ripe. Ean cringed and turned his head. He heard the slow drip and splat of liquid running off Adam’s lap to the floor.
The officer cleared his throat, then cleared it again. When he spoke, his voice rasped with barely contained laughter.
“My cat gets car sick when we take her to the vet. The old girl may just be having a tough time with the ride.”
Ean let out a slow, relieved sigh. A cat lover. And he sounded like a levelheaded guy. He had good taste in pets.
Adam soldiered on. “She’s a rare species, pregnant. We’re trying to transfer her to a special care facility for the birth.”
Marie wretched with impressive agony, throwing a whole-body writhe into it.
The officer cleared his throat again. “It looks like you have your…um…hands full.”
“Yes, among other things.”
“Do you need a vet or something?”
“I have one right in the back. He just gave her a sedative. She’ll be snoring in a few minutes.”
Ean pushed up on his knees and peered over Marie’s back. He risked a tiny wave. The flashlight beam hit his eyes leaving spots dancing when it veered away.
Marie turned and flopped boneless on the blanket. She rolled to her back, head tipped sideways and moaned. All four paws pointed to the ceiling.
Ean passed Adam the paper sheet they had from the clinic.
“Thank you, Ean.” Adam wiped his hands as calmly as if it were a dinner napkin and he was dealing with spilled wine. He dabbed at the muck in his lap.
* * * * *
At least Marie was familiar with the house. Adam hoped that gave her some comfort. The new body was another story, getting up the steps on four feet instead of two was not as graceful as he knew Marie would have liked. After a leap and tumble back, she snarled, turned and stalked into the living room and where she tried to stretch out on the sofa. She hung over at both ends. It took some wriggling and adjusting but she finally settled, propping her chin in her paws on one end and curling her rear in so it fit. The night-blacked glass in the picture window sent her reflection back at her. She snarled.
Adam slipped upstairs leaving Ean to watch over Marie. A quick shower and change had him almost presentable. He ran his fingers through damp hair. He wished the mess he’d made of things with Marie could be set right so easily. He felt trapped by guilt on one side and sheer terror of what could happen, what nearly happened, on the other. How had it come to all this?
They’d been lucky. The officer had let them go with a verbal warning about speed. He didn’t want to have to count on luck again. It might be too late, but he was going to have to go downstairs to explain the entire situation to Marie.
Ean leaned in the doorway allowing Marie all the space he could while keeping watch. Marie was still on the couch. Adam chose a chair on the far side of the room. Her eyes were closed. Her ears locked on him and followed his movements like little satellite dishes. That and the occasional fishhook curl of her tail, first to the left and then to the right, were the only signs that she was awake.
Adam didn’t trust his voice to carry words without them dissolving into a messy emotional puddle in his throat. As for Marie, he wasn’t sure what she would understand. He had to keep it simple.
He leaned forward and scrubbed his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Where to begin? His inability to figure out how to say what needed to be said had landed them in this mess.
He rose and started toward her but she hissed so he sat back down.
“I’m sorry,” he tried.
She snarled again, but he took heart. Sorry was an abstract concept. He might expect her to pick up concrete symbols from speech, like shoe or eat, things she could picture. Then again, she could just hate the sound of his voice.
He could barely remember his first switch to tiger form as an adolescent, with Ean’s parents to guide and teach. He’d grown up knowing who he was in a community that celebrated who they were. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she must be feeling. Terror. Confusion. Hatred. He had to try to cover whatever conclusions she might have drawn.
“I don’t know how much you’ll unders
tand but I’m going to explain anyway.” He paused. She watched him, ears twitching, but made no sound.
“First, and this is very important, Ean and I are not evil wizards who have turned you into a tiger.”
She turned her head to stare out the window again as if she didn’t care what he said but her left ear was cocked toward him and the tip of her tail twitched faster.
“You are Pantherian. That means you are genetically both tiger and human. If you had been raised among our kind you wouldn’t need me to tell you that. You’d be able to switch yourself between species without my help.”
Her tail stopped twitching. She was motionless, alert, listening to him with her entire body. He sent his love to her, opened his heart and let all his guilt and anguish flow toward her.
“Yes,” he said more softly. “Ean and I are tigers too.”
He started to go to her again but she hissed a warning between her teeth, ears laid back, incisors showing. He could have shifted and been safer but he didn’t want her to feel any more threatened than she already did. And Adam’s tiger form was not like any tiger she would have seen. “Don’t worry, I’ll spare you a demonstration.”
He moved around the chair to a window, farther from her. He looked out into the night and wished it could give him some answers, tell him how to win her forgiveness. He tried to imagine how it must feel, to be sick, frightened and all at once have everything you believed about the world tossed aside by the snap of someone’s fingers. A lot like being lost in the dark, he supposed.
And now he was about to yank the rug from under her one more time. He opened his mouth and no sound came. He swallowed, drew a deep breath and turned to face her. He had to look her in the eye when he told her what he’d done.
“I deceived you and you have every right to be mad. But I didn’t do it to gain anything for myself, Marie. I simply wanted to give you the babies you craved.”
Her answer—a soft, frustrated growl—rumbled like distant thunder. He braced himself for the coming storm. “Almost everything they said at the clinic is true. You’re pregnant. Six is a bit unusual but not unheard of, and not particularly dangerous to you or them. I think you’ll be holding our babies in your arms about ten weeks from now.”