by J. E. Taylor
“I was out there in the woods trying to stay alive, no thanks to Herk.” She waved at him, but she still had a thread of loyalty for their former friendship left. “You’ll find my footprints across the tundra to the far woods and beyond if needed,” she added when Constable Jones narrowed his eyes.
“Your backpack was in the yard,” Herk said, and a crease appeared in his brow.
“Yeah, well you scared me, and I dropped it,” she said, but didn’t explain any further. She didn’t want to tell Constable Jones she was actually running away from Herk. That wouldn’t look good considering they all were standing around a dead body.
Herk cocked his head like he was trying to remember the prior night.
“I went to try to find the tiger,” she said softly.
“Alone?” His eyes widened in horror.
She didn’t know whether Herk was acting or not. If he was, he was doing one hell of a job.
She raised her eyebrows. “Yes. The town council made it clear I needed to fix this problem or die trying, or were you not listening to them yesterday?”
She did not want to tell them that she had released some kind of magic last night. She didn’t want to give Herk the satisfaction of being right after what he had pulled.
Could she forgive him for his drunken ramblings?
She had shot down his proposal, so he could have just been acting out. She let out a huff and glanced at her dead friend, and the loss hit, misting her eyes with unshed tears. Her chin started to tremble, and she turned and trudged out of the backyard, hell-bent on figuring out who, or what, was killing members of her town.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and Lisa instinctively yanked away, spinning to look Herk in the eye.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed and swiped at the wet heat streaking her cheeks.
He pulled his hand back quickly. “Sorry,” he mumbled and looked at the ground. “I know she was your friend.”
More tears covered her eyes, blurring her vision. She nodded. She only had a few friends in Opal, and it seemed she had lost both of her close ones in the last twenty-four hours.
“You don’t remember last night, do you?” She sniffled and wiped her nose.
He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “I had a real bender.” He kicked at the snow again. “I found your backpack this morning. And then I heard Molly’s mother screaming...” He looked at the ground.
Lisa swore there were tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away just as fast as they came.
“I thought the worst.” He met her gaze.
“Then why did you make that comment about me being gone last night to the constable?” She didn’t buy his innocent act, at least not all of it. He did look a little green this morning, and she hoped his hangover was as hellish as he had made her night.
“Because I’m still mad that you said no to my proposal,” he said. “But not mad enough for my heart not to hammer in my chest at the thought of you getting hurt.” He shuffled in place and crossed his arms as if he were protecting his very soul from any more harm.
“You are a very mean drunk, Herk. I ran because of you.” She stabbed a finger into his chest, unable to contain the anger any longer.
His eyes widened, his arms fell, and then sadness and shame washed over his face. “I didn’t...”
“No, you didn’t. I got away before you could do anything you could never take back, but I saw a side of you that I had never seen before. I’ve seen you drunk, but not like that. And I detest that person who threatened to take whatever the hell he wanted. You may be the son of the head of the town council, but you are not above the law.” She forced her voice to stay hushed so the lawmen in the vicinity wouldn’t hear her.
“So why didn’t you tell the constable?” he grumbled and glanced towards Molly’s backyard.
“Because you were once my dearest friend, and I still have some insane loyalty to you and your family.” She glanced at the people still milling around Molly’s and decided the conversation about the prior night was over. “The white tiger did not do that,” she said and looked back at Herk. “I don’t know what did, but I’m going to find out.”
She marched towards the Caniculas’ house to get her backpack. As she rounded the corner, she saw it sitting next to the door along with Mr. Canicula.
Mr. Canicula stood and glared down at her like he believed she was some sort of criminal.
She slowed to a stop at the foot of the stairs. “It isn’t the tiger,” she said, looking up at him trying to gauge his reaction. His lips were thinned like he was pissed at her even approaching the house.
His eyes narrowed. “I have half a mind to lock you up for Molly’s death.”
Her mouth dropped in stunned silence. How could he think she had killed her friend?
She glanced down the street and back at him in confusion. “I didn’t kill Molly,” she said. “I don’t know who did.”
“It was the tiger, and you damn well know it.”
Something deep inside her warned her not to say more. Not to tell this man that she knew it wasn’t the tiger because he had been protecting her in the caverns. She didn’t understand the voice inside her, but she obeyed and snapped her jaw closed. She took another step and reached for her backpack.
He shook his head and pointed towards the mountains. “Do your duty, or reap the repercussions,” he growled.
“I’m planning on it, but I’d like to figure out who is killing people here before I go.” She stared up at him, blocking the door and her pack.
“If you stay, you are going to jail for the murders.” He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.
She didn’t understand why he was doing this. People in town were being killed, and it wasn’t from a fabled beast like he seemed to think. “But...”
A wicked smile appeared, one that she had never seen before and one that spawned a thousand alarms in her head. When he leaned forward, she stepped back, putting distance between them as her flight response started blaring.
“I can put you in jail for life.” He tapped his lips and looked at the sky. “Actually, I could put you in front of a firing squad, and then my son would move on and settle down with someone more his style.”
So it was about her refusal to marry his son. “You bastard,” she said.
“I’ve been called that a time or two, but just so you don’t think too badly of our family, my wife insisted you take this with you,” he said and tossed her a thermos. “Now go. Kill the tiger like you were meant to, and then maybe I’ll rethink my position.”
She stared at the silver canister in her hand and debated. Stay and get put in jail for something she didn’t do, or go back to find the white tiger and figure out what really happened, both in town as well as with her magic? The choice was easy.
“Can I at least have my backpack and bow?”
His smile turned even meaner if that was even possible. “No. And I’ll give you to the count of three to get moving before I change my mind.”
Lisa turned towards the woods with only the canister of black tea that she knew would make her sick. But it might serve in a pinch if she couldn’t find food.
What she really needed was that warm fire and answers that she would not find within a jail cell in Opal.
Chapter 10
With her footprints still trackable in the snow, she found her way back to the area outside of the woods. She thought this was where the wolves had attacked, but the blackened earth was gone. The snow drifts were large enough to make her doubt her location. The mountainside of caverns didn’t help, either. There was no telling which of the shadows facing Opal had been the one she was in earlier.
Her arms dropped by her side as she stared.
“Can I help you?”
She jumped and spun towards the deep voice. Sparks danced across her fingertips, and she clenched her fists, shocked at the sudden appearance of magic. She stared at her hands, dumbfounded, and then jerked her attention to the man standing near
her.
People in Opal thought Herk was all the rage, but this man made Herk look like the ugly stepsister. His jet-black hair reached his shoulders and had a natural curl that most women would die for. His strong jaw was dabbled with stubble that she was sure would be scratchy against her skin. She was ashamed to admit she wanted to find out for sure. Both his hair and unshaven face made his eyes stand out even more. She had never seen eyes that bright blue. They glimmered like a glacial stream or the sky at noon in the fall. Deep. Penetrating. Intoxicating.
She blinked and stepped back. She had seen eyes that specific shade of blue before. She had seen them this morning, but they weren’t a man’s eyes. They were the eyes of the white tiger. Her heart pounded and her stomach rumbled like she hadn’t eaten in days. She licked her lips but couldn’t stop staring.
“Can I help you?” he asked again, and a smile toyed with his lips, making him all the more devastatingly attractive.
She giggled and heat rose in her cheeks. His question finally knocked her out of her stupor, and she turned her gaze back to the wall of caves, silently cursing her lack of being able to get her brain and mouth to work together to articulate.
“I... uh... I was looking for the cave that I woke in this morning.”
“I can help you if you’d like.” He held his hand out to her. “My name’s Elijah.”
She stared at his outstretched hand for longer than customary, and when he started to pull it back, she grabbed it and shook like she had zero manners. She stared at the connection in shock as her entire body filled with magic, as if whatever had been keeping it dormant had finally burst free. What the hell?
It engulfed her, and she breathed deeply. The scents surrounding the two of them were wild, like a raging river, or the air right before a thunderstorm. With it came the undertones of his unique musky scent that put her hormones into overdrive. Along with thrilling her, his touch was also calming, like the cadence of the sea.
His smile faded and his eyes widened. “You are the fated one,” he whispered and seemed to squeeze a fraction tighter as if he never wanted to let go.
Her moment of awe ended like a crack of thunder on a clear day. She yanked her hand away. “I am not killing the tiger,” she snapped.
His smirk deepened. “I would hope not,” he said with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s find a fire and get you warmed up.” He started walking towards the caves.
She hesitated. He was a stranger, after all.
He stopped a few steps away and glanced over his shoulder. He reached down and pulled a knife out of a sheath on his leg that she hadn’t noticed, and her heart lurched.
This could be the killer!
He flipped the knife around and held the hilt out to her. “I promise I won’t bite, but if you need something to feel more secure about following someone you don’t know, here.”
She stared at it and slowly took it from him, unsure of whether she felt safer or not with a weapon in her hand. In all of Herk’s physical training, he had proven how easily someone could be relieved of their weapon. She narrowed her gaze.
There were no warning alarms going off inside her like there had been at the Caniculas’, and she had to trust her instincts. They usually didn’t lead her astray. She nodded. “Normally I don’t follow strangers, but a warm fire does sound nice.”
He smiled and she nearly melted in the snow with the effect it had on her. Warm and gushy like holding a baby for the first time, and she wanted to smack herself. This wasn’t like her. She was more the cynical one and not the one to get mushy or drool over a man. Plus, the warm and wild connection she felt when they were shaking hands was something she couldn’t ignore.
The path wound up the mountain passing by some of the lower indentations. When he stepped into the first real cavern, she hesitated at the sight of the smoldering fire. She thought she could make out bones in the ashes, but he threw a couple more logs on the embers, burying whatever she thought she saw.
He leaned over and blew on the fire to fan the flames to life, and her brain stalled when his gaze found hers. Just watching him stirred things inside Lisa that she had never experienced before. It was almost on the edge of euphoria, but that made no sense. She shook the thoughts out of her head and stepped inside near the fire as he settled back on his knees.
Lisa set the blade on the rock next to her, glancing around. “Is this... yours?” She waved at the place.
He nodded.
“So... you’re the one who brought me here last night and cooked a squirrel for me?”
Color filled his cheeks, and he glanced at the fire with a small nod.
“Thank you,” she said with a mouth that was suddenly so dry she considered Mrs. Canicula’s tea. She wanted to ask about the tiger, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She needed a drink and opened the thermos.
Elijah’s head snapped up the moment she unscrewed the cap. He nearly jumped over the fire and grabbed the container from her. “You brought their poison here?” he bellowed.
Lisa’s eyes went wide, and she scrambled for the knife, jumped to her feet, and pressed herself into the wall. Her knife hand shook just as much as the rest of her trembling body.
He dumped the contents in the fire, and instead of dousing the flame like the tea should have, it acted as an accelerant, turning the small fire into a blaze.
“Where did you get this?” He held the container out like it was as deadly as the flames licking the ceiling of the cave.
“Mr. Canicula,” she said, steadying the knife in case he dared to get any closer. She had had enough of being the victim with Herk. She wasn’t going to let a stranger get the best of her. “I know it’s awful-tasting, but poison? Really?”
He gave her a deadly glare. “And you were going to try to give it to me?” he growled, and even in his anger, he was beautiful to behold, like an angry angel might be.
She nearly hissed at her inappropriate thoughts, growing just as irate as Elijah. “No. I was thirsty!” she yelled at him. “I was going to have a drink, and look what you did!” She pointed the knife at the blaze.
“You drink this?” He shook the container at her, acting more like Herk than the gentleman she met at the edge of the woods.
“Not by choice,” she snapped. “But it is all I was given when I was driven out of Opal. So, sue me if I wanted a drink.”
He recoiled with wide eyes and seemed to calm again. “You really drink this?” he asked, and a confused crease marred his perfect forehead.
She shrugged. “I was never fond of it, but the Caniculas have made me drink a cup every day since my parents died.”
He slowly paled. “When was that?” he asked with a voice so full of trepidation that she almost laughed and would have if her heart wasn’t pounding in her throat from the adrenaline rush.
“Since I was four.”
“Jesus,” he whispered and turned, pitching the thermos out the cave with a growl.
He paced the entry, mumbling under his breath. It looked like he was having an argument with himself. Every time he stole a glance in her direction, she gripped the knife tighter. She didn’t know what to think of him, and if she had a different place to hunker down, she would have been gone in a heartbeat.
He finally stopped and stared towards Opal. His shoulders dropped as if the wind had whispered a calming truth. When he turned, he was wearing the mask of the kind man she’d met at the edge of the woods.
“You said something when I called you the fated one.” He approached the fire again. “Why would the fated one kill the white tiger?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“Haven’t you heard the fable about the white tiger?”
He nodded. “That’s why I’m asking. I don’t understand.”
She cocked her head. “That’s the lore,” she said as if he were shy a few marbles. “The white tiger wakes and slaughters the innocent. He wants to destroy Opal, and only the fated one’s magic can kill the tiger and stop the reign of terror.�
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With each word, his eyes saddened until a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and all she felt was his despair.
He slowly sank to his knees facing her. “No, child. That is not the true prophecy.” He wiped his face and stared up at her. “You’ve been fed poison in more than one way.”
“What do you mean poison?” She lowered the knife but wasn’t ready to sit back down and leave herself vulnerable.
The fire still blazed sending white and red embers like rain.
“Tea steeped with tar.” He waved at the fire to make his point. “Did anyone else in the house drink it?”
Lisa went to nod, but tilted her head trying to remember Herk drinking his mother’s tea. Herk’s parents drank wine or water and rarely had a teacup in front of their seats at dinner. Now that Elijah mentioned it, she was sure she had been the only one that drank Mrs. Canicula’s tea.
Finally, she shook her head. “But why would they poison me?” she whispered and continued to stare at the fire.
“Tea steeped with tar is a magical eliminator. It kills magic and then kills the host.” His lips pressed tightly together. “By all standards, you should have died before your fifth birthday.”
“Bullshit,” she said and reset her grip on the knife. She shifted away from him. She didn’t know this man, and the suggestions he was making made her skin itch with unease.
“The true prophecy, the one that was written in the history books by scholars of long ago, stated that when the white tiger woke from a long winter’s sleep, he would unite with the fated one to rid Opal of all forms of evil and bring true peace to the region.” He bit his lower lip and looked at the ceiling. “But it seems the monsters who initially bound the tiger in frost have been very, very busy.” His voice turned feral, and he pressed his lips together shaking his head. Elijah climbed to his feet and glared at her. “Tell me everything.”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
He stared into her eyes with an intensity that made her take a step away from him. “Because I am the white tiger, and the people who imprisoned me were named Canicula.”