“I brought this,” Ishan explained. “My own first time, I had to walk back and I nearly froze. I brought some shoes too. Trust me, you'll need them. The ground is as cold as ice at night."
I shuffled under the blanket, pressing up to Ishan’s chest, breathing in his real scent for the first time. It was just like in my dream, but the world was dark and the lurid technicolour was gone. That and the blood.
The real world is never as good as the world we imagine.
“Nobody met you after your first time?” I asked.
He smiled, rubbing my back through the blanket. “No,” he answered. “I wasn’t bonded to anyone, so nobody knew.” He gave me a wry smile. “At least you transformed in the night, instead of in the middle of the day.”
“Why?”
“Humans… don’t take well to seeing our kind. It’s much easier this way, believe me.”
I shivered against him, trying to warm myself. I wiggled my feet into the shoes, wearing them without any socks, which was how I usually wore them anyway. “You said something about… about the Rewa. You said I was Altaica. What is that?”
Ishan hesitated somewhat and I could sense his reluctance was deeper than he was letting on. “The Rakshasa are, it might appear, better than humans in every way… but we have a number of human foibles. We are, for lack of a better word, tribal. There are clans of our kind… small covens, banding together for protection and for company. I am of the Rewa, those who have white fur. Your markings indicate that you’re an Altaica. Our rivals. Violently so.”
I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a gentle squeeze. “You don’t seem to be violent towards me.”
He gave a low chuckle. “You’re right. For now. Many of my packmates would attack you on sight, if they knew what you were and if there were no humans around.”
“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’ll need a name, too.”
I raised my head, looking at him. “But I have a name.”
“You need a Rakshasa name. We all have them. Your old name is… well, it’s old. It’s who you were, not who you are now.”
At that moment I still felt like Libby. I opened my mouth to offer a complaint, but instead another word tumbled out.
“Aurora. I like Aurora.”
He smiled a warm, bright smile. Ishan lowered his head, gently pressing his lips to mine. This was our first real kiss and, although it lacked the powerful, supernatural exaggeration of the dream ones we had shared, it still sent tingles all up and down my spine.
“Aurora. I like it too.”
I gave him a gentle kiss on the shoulder, through his jacket, feeling the blanket begin to do its work. “Good. Because it’s the first thing that jumped into my head.”
“That’s how the best names are picked.”
I paused, breathing in his scent, keeping my face against his shoulder, rubbing my cheek against him. “What was the shotgun sound?”
“What sound?”
I kissed his skin. “In the dream. Both times. There was a loud sound. I swore it was a gun, and I swear… someone was shooting at me, right at the end.”
He rubbed my back gently. “I don’t know.”
I enjoyed the quiet, cuddling with Ishan in the dark on top of the hill. “So what happens now?”
He smiled, giving me a warm squeeze, his arms holding me tightly. “Now you go home and try to comfort your friend. She’ll be worried sick.”
“Katelyn?” I blinked, then remembered. She was sleeping over tonight. “Ooooh, crap.”
Ishan laughed and leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “Okay, I have to run. I’ll see you soon.” He pulled his head back, giving me a meaningful look. “Dream well, tonight.”
I planned to. I laughed, glancing out at the lights of the city, and when I turned back to him he was gone.
Ishan was right. The shoes helped; the blanket helped more. I walked down the hill and made my way back towards the city. The headlights of cars lit up the road, but I crossed in a gap between them, slipping into the shadows effortlessly, as though I belonged there. They seemed blind to me; slow, trundling machines with such a limited range of vision. Easy to avoid. I was certain I wasn’t seen.
Certainty. It was a strange thing. I normally wasn’t confident in anything I did, but tonight I felt as though evading the headlights was the easiest thing in the world.
I stopped by one of the many creeks near Black Mountain and washed my hands clean, making sure to get all the blood out. It came off surprisingly easily, being recently dried, but I was careful. I was already a mess, walking around in just a blanket and shoes, and I figured blood would raise more questions than it answered.
Yet as I cleaned myself I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me with unfriendly eyes. I had thought, initially, that it was Ishan, but as I crouched on a large stone scrubbing my fingernails with my palm I somehow sensed that it wasn’t. This was someone else.
I put that thought out of my mind, though, and when I was clean I headed back to my apartment.
5
Facades
I had never seen so many cop cars in one place at once. The block around my apartment looked like some kind of disaster zone, the entire area lit by flashing blue and red lights. Australian Federal Police soldiers swarmed all over the area.
Without much of a clue what to do, I simply wandered into the area as though nothing was wrong. Instantly one of the officers, a tall blonde woman with her hair in a bun, noticed me. She shone her torch right at me and I held up my hand to screen my eyes.
“Over here! Over here!”
She ran over, her boots thumping on the concrete. “My name is Sergeant Thomas. I’m a police officer. Are you Miss Elizabeth Meda?”
I gave a vapid laugh, casually waving my hand. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s wrong, officer?”
She frowned with concern at my appearance as more officers arrived, their radios buzzing with reports. “Miss Meda,” she said. “Have you been harmed?”
I shook my head. “No,” I lied, smoothly and eloquently. “I just went for a walk.”
“A walk? At this hour?” Thomas indicated my blanket. “Wearing just shoes and a blanket? And without your glasses?”
A shriek cut over my answer. From the crowd of officers Katelyn emerged, her mascara pouring down her face from crying. She sprinted up to me and nearly knocked me over, grabbing me and crushing my torso with her arms.
“OmigodLibbyIwassofrightenedIdidn’tknowwhereyouwentand—”
Sergeant Thomas pulled her off me with surprising strength and speed, a move which surprised me.
“I’m sorry, Miss Evans, but we can’t touch her yet. If someone’s harmed her, we need to collect evidence.”
I blinked in the light of a half-dozen torches, shaking my head. “Oh, no, seriously. I just went for a walk. I got freaked out by a weirdo earlier today, and I wanted some fresh air. I didn’t mean to go very far, just along the balcony, but I guess I wandered off.” I gave a sheepish smile, the perfect blend of embarrassment and awkwardness. “I’m sometimes a little doughy in the head.”
Katelyn seemed absolutely over the moon with relief, but Sergeant Thomas didn’t seem to be as convinced. “I’m going to need you to give a statement,” she said, “and I’m going to need your word that you won’t frighten us like this again.” She gestured around to the cadre of police cars and officers who, by now, were beginning to disperse. “We’ve wasted a lot of police time if you really just ‘took a stroll’.”
Another fake smile, perfectly executed. “It’s okay,” I reiterated. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I frightened you all.”
Sergeant Thomas seemed sceptical of this but eventually nodded her head. “Very well,” she said. “I’m glad this had a happy ending. With the Champawat Tiger roaming around, we don’t get many of those these days.”
Katelyn threw herself at me again, sobbing uncontrollably, and I wiggled a hand out of the blanket and patted her on the arm.
Over her shoulder I could see Jacques waving politely to me. I gave a little wave back, then led Katelyn back towards our apartment.
Katelyn finally stopped crying, and when she did she became angry. Angry that I had caused her so much distress, angry I had kept her up all night. Angry I had scared her.
Normally when Katelyn became angry it was like bad weather. I couldn’t do anything about it except try to handle the damage as best I could and wait for it all to blow over.
Not this time. This time I felt in complete control, as though she were a puppet and I was pulling the strings. I felt confident, calm and collected, even though to Katelyn I flawlessly projected my derpy, clumsy exterior.
To her I was still Libby the Loser. On the inside, though, I was Aurora. I was more and more Aurora with every second that passed.
“I promise, it won’t happen again,” I said for the fifteen-billionth time, giving Katelyn yet another squeeze on the knee. “I promise. I promise.”
“If you do, I’m swear to God, I’m burning down your apartment. You scared me half to death!”
“You said that already,” I reminded her, keeping my voice gentle. Slowly, surely, she began to calm down.
“Jesus. I kept seeing your body in a ditch somewhere. I kept seeing you on the nightly news, a statistic. The twelfth victim of the Champawat Tiger, Elizabeth Meda.”
“I know, I know. But I’m safe now.”
For the first time, Katelyn managed a weird smile. “Okay. Just, you know… can you avoid doing anything weird for the next couple of days? I’d really like that.”
I smiled widely. “I think I can manage it.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be fine tonight, okay?”
She shook her head violently. “Oh, no. Not after that little stunt. I was thinking of getting a hotel while my house is being repaired, but no way. Nope. I’m staying here for the next week and that’s final.”
“You have work tomorrow,” I reminded her. “You can blow off uni, but not work. I know you need the money.”
Her face told me it was true. With a defeated sigh, Katelyn nodded her head.
“I know. If I skip one more shift, I’m fired.” She affixed a stare on me that told me, in no uncertain terms, that she meant business. “You call me if anything weird goes on, okay?”
“I will.”
“And you won’t go walking anymore?”
“I won’t.”
“Or… anything else weird?”
I smiled. “I’m Libby. I’m always doing weird things.”
She sighed. “Ain’t that the truth. God, you chowderbucket.” She gave me a relieved smile. “Get some sleep, okay?”
To sleep meant to dream and I could think of nothing I wanted more.
Epilogue
The Eclipse
I closed the door of my apartment, leaning up against it with my back, giving a low sigh to the empty room.
“What a day, huh?”
Stepping inside, I kicked off my shoes. The place was trashed. Katelyn and the cops had gone over everything looking for clues. Somehow Katelyn had convinced them that I was lying dead in a ditch somewhere and they had moved with surprising speed. Between my smelly shoes, my ruined cupboard and now this, my apartment was a war zone, but tidying up could wait until tomorrow. The sun was about to come up and I felt deathly tired.
I stepped down the hallway, following the sound of the mewing kittens towards my bedroom. I remembered, then, that I had forgotten to buy food for Clintonette.
“Mince in the fridge,” I said to myself, nodding. Clintonette had just become a mother; surely I could splurge out on something a little fancy.
I stepped into the kitchen, freezing instantly. Something seemed instantly, totally wrong.
The faint sound of breathing.
“Quite the scene you made tonight,” came a voice, quiet and gravelly, unnaturally deep. I slowly turned around. Standing in the tiny living room, shrouded in gloom, was a tall creature—it was shaped like a man but had the head of a tiger, covered in the same tiger-stripe markings that I’d seen on myself in the dream, the pattern running all over his body. Black and orange, with a white patch running down from his jaw, down his throat, disappearing into the overly large t-shirt he wore. His arms were folded, confidently, but he had a strange aura of menace about him.
“I didn’t realise anyone was watching.” I rested a hand on the kitchen cabinet, trying to look composed. “Who are you?”
The creature chuckled, a mirthless action that I found belittling. “Eclipse,” he answered, his face splitting in a grin revealing an impressive set of sharp incisors. “Although you’re more likely to know me as the Champawat Tiger.”
“Is that supposed to impress me? Make me afraid?”
“It should.”
I locked gazes with him, his dark green eyes glinting in the poor light of my small apartment. “What do you want?”
“What I want with the other Rakshasa-fledglings I find.” Another chuckle, this time with a little more energy, and the Rakshasa took a step forward.
“To kill you.”
To be continued in Tigress: Love in the Dark!
Part II
Love in the Dark
A Paranormal Romance Serial
with a little hint of spice.
Foreword
“To thine own self be true.”
- Polonius, Hamlet
Prologue
The Jaws of the Beast
He was a Rakshasa. A were-tiger. A tall, imposing creature with the head of a great cat, bright green eyes and powerful muscles, standing right in the middle of my apartment in the dead of night. His long, thick tail whipped back and forth as he regarded me, sizing me up. Every one of us had a second name, a Rakshasa name. He’d called himself Eclipse, but in my mind he was the serial killer in the news, the Champawat Tiger.
Eclipse. An eerie coincidence, given my dreams of late.
I locked gazes with him, his dark green eyes glinting in the poor light of my small apartment. “What do you want?”
“What I want with the other Rakshasa fledglings I find.” Another chuckle, this time with a little more energy, and the Rakshasa took a step forward.
“To kill you.”
With a growl he leapt forward, faster than I thought possible, closing the distance between us in a split second. I saw his right hand go back, more a paw than a human hand, the appendage ending in long, sharp claws, reaching for me.
The tiny kitchen left me nowhere to move. In a panic, I reached out for the closest thing I had to a weapon, one of the chopping knives resting on the counter.
Time seemed to slow down. My vision was full of bared teeth and claws that ended in wicked points. There was no way I could escape them.
It was more correct to say, though, that there was no way Libby could escape them. Libby the Loser was going down. She was Rakshasa dung that hadn’t been digested yet.
Aurora, though, my Rakshasa side, had other ideas.
The blade struck the Champawat Tiger right in the centre of his chest. The humble human steel slashed a great gash across his shirt but the skin underneath was unharmed. The metal blade dragged across his chest and bent, snapping off at the hilt. He was unharmed, his charge unimpeded.
That was just a distraction, though. My left arm swung out wide, blocking the oncoming claw with my forearm. With a roar that boomed from my throat, raw and primal, I halted his charge; the force cracked the tiles under my feet and I swore, for a moment, I could feel the entire building groan with the stress.
The Champawat Tiger’s face was mere inches away from mine. “A strong one,” he growled into my face, seeming pleased by this notion. I pushed him back and he snarled, a brief stalemate held. He was cautious now, regarding me warily, but with confidence, as though finding a way to slay me was merely a matter of solving a fairly easy puzzle. “I’m going to enjoy snapping your neck.”
He pushed me back, then swung at me with impossible speed. There was a sud
den, fading sting in my left arm and I fell back, smacking into the door of my fridge and crumpling the metal. I barely felt the impact on the fridge, though I was stuck; I struggled to get back onto my feet.
“Libby?”
A voice from the door. Ishan Kari’s voice, the lover from my dreams. He and Eclipse locked eyes for a moment, then, as though there were a momentary recognition between the two, there was a tense silence where nobody said or did anything.
Suddenly Ishan was between the killer and me, faster than I could blink. His shirt tore away and instantly he was taller, stronger, his body covered in white and dark brown tiger stripes. The Champawat Tiger took a step back, growling at us both, but I extracted myself from the ruined fridge and stepped up beside Ishan, shoulder to shoulder.
The large Rakshasa’s eyes flicked between us both, sizing us up with a cool, calculating logic. Ishan was strong and now it was two against one. “I’ll be back for you,” the Champawat Tiger growled, raising a claw towards me, backing up into my living room, turning and leaping over the balcony rail, then disappearing off into the night.
Ishan and I ran after him, but by the time we arrived at the rail he was gone.
“Are you alright?” Ishan asked me, suddenly turning to me, his Rakshasa form melting away as he became a human once more.
I threw my arms around his middle, grabbing him and drawing him close, squeezing him tightly as I pressed my face against his shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I smell blood.”
20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 96