by Nara Malone
“To a world that, as you believe, oozes misery? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
He looked back at Marie. She waited for him, front paws crossed one over the other, her tail swaying.
“They will change that world,” Adam said at last. “They will change us. They are a change for the better.”
“Their destinies are tied to yours. They won’t leave if you don’t.” His father turned again, raised his arm and departed, swallowed by a black hole in the deep purple sky.
He could stay. The three of them could stay, come back to new lives sometime in the future after he’d rested and was ready to tackle that world again. But it would be too late for the Pantherian tribes. It would be too late for innocents like Lilly.
“It won’t be easy,” he told them. “We’ll suffer ten times over for every bit of good we accomplish.”
They blinked blue eyes at him, calmly waiting, willing to let him choose. He looked at his beautiful love and knew there was never really any choice but to stand by her side while she fulfilled her destiny.
* * * * *
A fly whizzed past his face. A fly in winter? Adam wasn’t ready to wake up. He tried blowing at it. It whizzed past again. He opened his eyes just as his daughter’s fist connected with his nose. The weight of life settled into his bones. His leg felt like someone had left an iron sizzling on top of it. Only concern that he might frighten the infant kept him from howling in agony. A rock concert blared inside his brain. The effort to lift his hand and capture the errant fist left him exhausted. With the fist contained, the rest of her body wriggled and thrashed. It made him weary to watch.
“Hey,” Marie looked at him across their daughter. “It’s about time you woke up.”
“I was having a hot dream,” he croaked. His throat felt like he’d swallowed a leaf pile.
“Oh?” She reached over and tweaked his nipple. Pain blazed through his leg. He was ready to hack it off with an axe. Despite that, he’d endure ten times this agony to have her smiling at him, touching him.
She pursed her lips, then licked them seductively. “Guess I’ll have to see what I can do to make you forget that dream-girl.”
He would let her do anything she wanted. It would kill him again but he was ready. “She was a hot little redhead with big boobs. I don’t think you’ll be able to make me forget her.”
The baby’s other hand sailed past his nose. Marie caught it and tucked it back in the blanket. She leaned across the baby and kissed him.
“Thank you, Adam. Our daughters are precious.”
This is how he dreamed it would be. That glitter in her eyes and quaver in her voice. Happiness too big for words. It was almost how he dreamed it. Her lips seemed a little too warm. Her hair clung in damp tendrils around her face. Fever he thought, but breaking.
“Where’s Ean?”
“Your brother ordered him to bathe and go to bed.”
“My brother?” He didn’t have a brother.
“Yes, looks just like you. Maybe he’s a little younger.” She held up three fingers. “How many fingers do you see?”
His hand closed over hers. “More than I can count.”
His father was still around then, it irritated that even Marie thought his father younger than him. “Where is this ‘brother’ of mine?”
“He went to get me a drink of water.”
Jake strolled through the door with a tray. Adam relaxed. It was all just a dream then. No complicated destinies to worry over. But Jake didn’t look a thing like him. And he didn’t look younger. Jake brought tea, not water, a pot of it and two cups. Marie drank hers. She was yawning halfway through the cup.
Adam sniffed at the cup Jake held to his lips. “Valerian?” There was no mistaking that herb’s stinky-sock smell.
“Among other things. Just drink it. It’ll help your headache.” He had to suffer the humiliation of Jake holding his head and pouring tea into him one sip at a time. The baby had more strength than he did.
“Anything I can get you?” Jake asked.
“An amputation kit.”
He was so tired the effort to swallow tea left him exhausted.
“No need for all that. Ean patched up what being absorbed by your lady didn’t fix. The magus intends to shift you two when he gets back. He just needed a little time to recharge his circuits.” Jake pulled the blankets higher over Adam’s chest.
It rankled, that Jake was tucking him in, that he needed Jake to tuck him in.
“Back from where?” So, Marie had indeed been chatting with his father. His head hurt too much to figure out what Jake meant by absorption. It didn’t mean the rest wasn’t a dream, something fueled by his father’s presence. The memory didn’t fade as a dream would. The ache, homesickness for what he’d left behind, wouldn’t leave him.
“Not sure where he was headed. He said something about a barn. Eight hours in tiger form will put you both right again. He said under no circumstances are either of you to try shifting on your own.”
“No worries there,” Adam said. “I couldn’t raise enough energy to shift my eye color.” The heightened metabolism in tiger form would speed the healing, but judging by the way he felt now Adam thought he might have to spend a week shifted to feel normal again.
Jake left the tray and took the baby away. Adam wondered how much of the past day was dream, and how much reality. Everything was real and nothing was. It was the first thing his father taught him.
Marie turned over and snuggled back against him, tucking his arm firmly around her waist. He decided he knew all that mattered. She still loved him.
Chapter Fourteen
Ean could have slept for a month. He managed to get in a couple of hours before a pounding at the front door woke him. He rolled off the couch and staggered toward the hall. The magus beat him to it. “Good evening, Officer. Or should that be morning?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I’m looking for…” Ean heard papers rattle. “Adam Kamenev.”
“I’m Marcus St. Germain, his father.”
“Is your son in?”
“He and his lovely bride are on their honeymoon. I’m watching over the house and the grandchildren. Would you like to come in?”
Ean shook his head. The magus just invited trouble right in the door.
“No, sir. I had a report about an animal attack I have to check out. I wanted your son’s permission to have a look along the property on the other side of the river.”
Ean was fully awake now. Crap. They hauled their butts out of one mess and landed smack in the middle of another.
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”
Ean wanted to leap forward and slap his hand over the magus’s mouth.
“Yes sir. Thank you. And just one question for you, if you could. Have you noticed any sign of, um, a large cat?”
Ean stepped softly to the window. The patrol car was in the drive, lights flashing. The county sheriff. The cop who had stopped them on the road had been in a state police car.
“What sort of cat?”
“A big, black one. About six hundred pounds.”
“Has there been some sort of zoo escape. A panther maybe?”
“There’s no need to worry sir. The gentleman reporting was somewhat incoherent. It’s probably nothing. He did say a black tiger.”
“A black tiger, really? I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
“According to the report, it had silver stripes.”
“Ah, sounds like the gentleman was under a chemical influence, perhaps?”
“Perhaps. I have to investigate his claim.”
“I don’t envy you your job, Officer, hauled out in weather like this.”
The sleet had stopped but a bitter wind howled and the temperature hovered near zero. The cold sweep of air around the door and across the floor numbed Ean’s toes.
“I’m sorry to bother you. His account is somewhat muddled but it invo
lves a man possibly hurt or missing.”
“Not a problem.”
“Thank you Mr. St. Germain. There’s probably nothing to this.”
The door closed. Ean stayed by the window until he saw the car pull away.
“I’ll get Maya up,” he told the magus. “Can we leave through the mirror? Will there be any adverse effects to the babies?”
“Ean. Go back to bed. He won’t find any black tigers stalking defenseless citizens.”
“We have one in the bed upstairs, sleeping right next to a white tiger.”
“Which is why he won’t find one.”
“When he finds that man mauled to death by a tiger, when he sees the bloody mess in the barn, he’ll call in searchers. They will come for us. It might take a few hours for them to make a connection, but Marie had a little run-in with the law before.”
“The man by the river has a hole in his chest from a shotgun, the same gun that left a hole in my son. Adam didn’t kill, or maul, anyone.”
Ean absorbed that, trying to figure it out. Possibly one man had aimed for Adam and the friend caught the bullet instead. It was hard to imagine what might have transpired in the chaotic confrontation they’d heard.
“They aren’t going to have to do much in the way of forensic research to figure out the guy was killed by his drunk buddy,” the magus said.
“They will look in the barn.”
“And find nothing. I cleaned up there after I sent you to bed.”
Ean sat on the couch. It just seemed too easy. Lilly hopped from under the coffee table onto the couch beside him.
“Do you know how Adam and Marie got their bodies tangled? Did you find any hint?” Lilly nudged her way onto Ean’s lap.
“I didn’t. I suspect the baby had something to do with it. She was clearly behind that episode upstairs tonight. Neither Adam nor Marie were in any condition to shift up. They skipped right past the shift plane and wound up in the next realm.”
“Lovely,” Ean said, leaning back. Lilly stretched out across his chest. He couldn’t believe the baby had survived the shift apparently unharmed. As he understood things, only the dying and the magus could travel to the next realm. “All we need is a dimension-hopping infant to keep life interesting. Will we have to line her bassinet with tin foil?”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, no one will come searching the house for tiger people. Get some sleep.”
The magus grabbed a comforter from the back of the couch and tossed it over Ean who felt his eyelids losing the battle to stay open.
“They will be busy for the next few hours,” the magus said. “By the time they come back to talk to me, there will be no tigers, just a lot of sleepy people and hungry babies.”
* * * * *
Stillness and the vacant space at his side alerted Adam that Marie was gone. He started awake, and nearly passed out under the wave of pain that rolled through him when he tried to sit.
A steadying hand on his shoulder, another pressed over his abdomen, drew the pain away.
“No,” he gritted out. “Save your strength for the others.”
“She’s fine,” his father promised, urging him to lie back, pulling covers across his chest. “She’s in the nursery watching her babies sleep.”
Adam lay back. “The babies. All female.” He should have stayed in that dream world. What lay ahead? How many daughters would the wasting snatch from their arms?
“A treasure that could save the Panthera tribe,” his father said.
“If they live. What are the odds one will make it?”
His father looked away. One in ten. They both knew the answer. Not good enough to guarantee one child would survive.
“I don’t hold with the theory that the wasting is entirely genetic,” he said. “You’ve never found the gene responsible.”
“It’s not environmental. Not contagious. It occurs among all the Pantherian tribes. Humans don’t have a comparable affliction. It has to be genetic, unique to shifters.”
“Even if it is genetic, I don’t believe you have to worry. These babies are vibrant, bursting with life. And you don’t need DNA studies to see Marie’s daughters are different. A shifting infant?”
“I didn’t dream that?”
His father just looked at him.
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s time,” Marie said.
She and Adam had recovered their health in the weeks since the birth. It was time to recover the romance. Could she sense his longing? Ean suspected she did—a sense of impending loss so raw and resonant he thought it must echo like a gong each time he looked at her. He fought to keep his mind closed, silent and still as a river rock.
Marie was inviting him to join them but as much as he wanted to go, it was his turn to play hero. It wasn’t like he really belonged with them. In the beginning, she had accepted him to please Adam. And then, for a time, she took him to get back at Adam. He didn’t want to be a duty when there was peace, nor a weapon in the wars that cropped up between lovers.
He shook his head and backed away, hovering at the threshold of the balcony doors. She followed. The sky glittered with the crisp light of a thousand stars that seemed to wink in time with spring peepers trilling along the riverbanks. An owl’s shadow slid over the moonlit yard. Ean tasted the night air, pulling in the earthy scent of woodland waking from winter sleep. Of all the things tugging the tiger in him toward the night and his mate, it was her cool fingers skimming up his arm, moist lips pressed against his ear, which nearly sent him roaring over the edge.
Adam lingered at the rail, his expression thoughtful. Adam had been willing to die to save her, willing to leave Marie and their children in Ean’s care. This time, Ean had the power to draw danger away.
It was time. Time for Ean to stand aside and out of the way. Time to save this family, this second chance he’d been given after losing his first mate. He still didn’t know what he could have changed to save Leah. This time he could lead danger away, make a sacrifice to keep them safe.
“You go ahead,” he told them. “I’ll catch up with you.”
Marie grabbed the hem of the t-shirt—the only thing she was wearing—and tugged it over her head. Long red hair spilled over creamy shoulders, over her breasts. Her nipples were rosy nubs, peeking between curls, begging for a lick. Ean ground his teeth into his tongue. His mind reached out for some thought, anything that would give him the strength to turn and walk away.
A baby’s cry rescued him. Marie bent to retrieve her shirt, which put his gaze on a collision course with her luscious bottom. He shoved his hands in his back pockets, wishing it were that easy to shackle his imagination. Adam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against the rail, frowning hard at Ean, gaze drifting from Ean’s pocketed hands to Marie.
Once Adam’s suspicions were aroused, they weren’t easily allayed. Ean would have to touch her. Act calm. Stay cool. He didn’t feel cool or calm when his hands connected with her bare shoulders. Or when she straightened, her breasts bobbing enticingly. The silkiness of her skin sliced at his willpower. He pushed her toward Adam with more force than he intended. He tried to smooth things over with a light tone.
“Go on. I’ll get the baby and catch up with you later.”
Adam caught Marie’s hand when she started to argue. He pulled her to him, cupping the back of her head with one hand, taking her captive with that mesmerist’s stare he used to get his way.
“We’ll wait for you at the river, Ean,” he said.
Ean ducked back into the dark bedroom. He waited long enough to watch Adam shift Marie and himself before they leapt from the balcony.
He slipped back out to watch Marie racing across the yard toward the river with Adam not far behind. His last look. They were beautiful. A perfect pair. The white tiger and the black—mirrored opposites that made a whole without him to muck up the pattern.
He bent to pick up Marie’s shirt, press it to his face, inhale her scent
. Her flavors gathered on his tongue. He smiled to himself, recalling the expression on her face the first time Adam shifted her and she discovered the full flavor of scents. He couldn’t suppress a shiver at the memory of her busy tongue. Then he sighed. How could he pull strength from the well he’d tapped too often these past few months? With hope gone dry, how could he walk away from the one thing that promised renewal?
To save them. That was how. He’d best do it quick, tonight, while they were off together. He folded her shirt, and the memories of her inside it, a keepsake to warm him through the lonely nights ahead. He tucked it into the duffle bag he had waiting under the bed.
Another cry from Aleah brought his head up. Time to say goodbye to his daughters.
* * * * *
Marie dove into the river and water plumed around her as she raced ahead. Adam hung back savoring the beauty of her joy, the ebb and flow of her body gathering and releasing power in graceful strides. A silly owl nearly dropped his tail feathers when she made a twenty-foot leap that could have snatched him from the sky. Marie’s jaws snapped shut inches from the little fellow’s tail, sending him swooping for the safety of tangled branches.
Marie landed facing him, tongue lolling in a tiger version of laughter. Her eyes had a come-closer-big-boy look. Her eyelids did a sensual droop and lift. Rising desire pushed aside his lingering worry over Ean.
Have I told you, she said, what an incredibly handsome tiger you are?
Her telepathic voice had a simmering, sexual quality that pushed every button she aimed for. His tail rose in an hypnotic sway, his tongue flicked out and back in—moves that usually lured her closer.
She tossed her head, turned it to the side.
Playing hard to get was she?
Adam leapt from the bank. Water plumed carrying a rippling arc of color over their heads, a moonbow. She caught her breath and looked back at him when it vanished, as if he had worked some sort of magic just for her. Maybe he had, because love made him feel magical, made him believe that they could beat all the obstacles headed their way. Her love made him believe he could leap high enough to snatch the moon from the sky and set it at her feet. He nuzzled her face, licked her ears.