Tiger's Strength

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “A terrible thing,” he deadpanned. “Shall we go?”

  He grabbed my hand and I laughed. “You’re forgetting your shirt.”

  He picked it up and a glint of mischief suddenly appeared in his eyes as he offered it to me. “You are certain you do not wish to wear this? Since, you enjoy stealing my shirts so much.”

  “I don’t steal. I borrow. Huge difference,” I reminded him. This was the Baran I was happily becoming accustomed to having around. Although I attempted to look stern as I added, “Now please put your shirt on and try to remember this isn’t our den.”

  The mischief in his gaze faded, much to my disappointment, as the TDS pulled on his shirt. I glanced at his bare feet and looked around the gym. “You should grab whatever else is yours and then we can go.”

  “Yes.”

  Then that crazy Tiger caught me by the wrist and tugged me forward so he could fling me over his shoulder. “Baran!” I protested with more laughter than I should have indulged in if I actually wanted him to behave. “I didn’t mean me!”

  “You said I should grab what’s mine. You’re mine, you little mouse.” There was a chuff of amusement from him as I braced my hands against his back. “Now, stop squirming before I decide to drop you.”

  I stilled only to gasp when he actually started walking. “Hey, wait a minute, where do you think you are going?”

  “Our room,” came the far too simple reply.

  “You can’t carry me to our room like this,” I protested. “Someone will see us!”

  “It is barely four-thirty in the morning. No one will see us, if you don’t draw them out with your talking and giggling. Now, shush.”

  I shushed. It took covering my mouth with my hand once Baran actually left the gym, but I shushed. Maybe bringing Baran to Maine had fried one of his circuits . . .

  ΘΘΘΘΘΘ

  Raina

  I frowned at the wardrobe. The TDS had only brought my more formal clothes and other than the t-shirt and track pants he had been wearing earlier, he had only brought his more formal clothing too. Although to be perfectly honest, Baran veered toward the more formal end of the dress code anyway. Preferring his button down collared shirts and maybe a pair of dark wash jeans when he wasn’t in slacks. I glanced at him. Light grey pinstriped shirt, dark wash jeans, pretty typical for Baran. Me, on the other hand . . .

  It wasn’t that I never wear formal clothes. When I wasn’t on a hunt or had a full day to myself, I usually wore nice clothes that could easily be considered more semi-formal than casual depending on the shoes I was wearing. It was just that formal clothes for lunch didn’t happen for me a lot. I adjusted the edge of my dark purple wrap tunic and glanced critically at my reflection. “Maybe I should wear a skirt instead of jeans.”

  “You look fine,” the TDS grumbled without looking away from the window.

  “I can wear a skirt instead of jeans,” I muttered, already making up my mind.

  By the time I changed to a dark skirt that fell to just above my knees and slipped on my black kitten heels, the TDS was watching me with a frown. “Do you actually think lunch requires that much effort?”

  “Yes, it does.” I ran my fingers through my hair, fluffing it so the tips of my ears wouldn’t peek through anymore. “Especially when dining with your mother and, even more especially, since we essentially hid in our room all morning.”

  “A far more pleasant fate than spending all morning with Venetia, I assure you.”

  I ignored that comment. I had come up with a plan to win Venetia over and that began with adhering to the old school of thought regarding etiquette and appearance for women. Which meant dressing my best for lunch as well as dinner, and keeping my ears covered. It was the best I could do to diminish my Elven appearance since I didn’t have a magic makeup that would take away the facial traits I had inherited from Ama. Depending on how I wore my hair, I either looked like a pure Elf or like someone who had an Elvish parent . . . Aren’t genetics fun?

  The rest of my plan I would adjust and adapt to how Baran’s mother decided to react to me. I could win her over. I had made up my mind about doing so and that meant I wasn’t going to just give up. Tigers were already the biggest members of Clan Felidae, and they could get so uppity if members of the other branches always gave way before them. This Leopard wasn’t going to do it.

  Lunch was held in the informal dining room just off the kitchen (the lodge was just the poor man’s name for a Swiss chalet). My plan to do everything I could to win over Venetia hit its first hurdle when her first acknowledgement of our presence consisted solely of the icy observation, “I see you do not believe in having a morning meal.”

  Roderick waved for us to take a seat as he mildly responded, “The same might be said for Madoc, dear. He has yet to crawl out of bed today.”

  I filled my plate and didn’t even protest when Baran put more food on there too. Instead, I decided to implement the next stage of my plan. Turning to Roderick, I asked, “You were an ambassador, correct?”

  “I was.”

  “Two of my brothers are serving in the Old World. Where were you stationed?”

  “Primarily London.” Roderick glanced at Venetia and then turned back to me. “I also served in Canada, France, Germany when it was still an empire, and Portugal.”

  I smiled. “Connor, my eldest brother, served in Paris initially among the ambassador’s staff. He was given duties as the ambassador to England after he married. Constantine, my second eldest brother, was serving in Germany and is now the ambassador to Greece. That change happened the week before Baran and I married.”

  “Then, he was not able to attend the wedding?”

  I shook my head. “Neither of them were able to be there. They didn’t meet Baran until February, and that’s only because Connor decided to bring his wife home for their cub’s arrival.” I took a sip of my ice water and then grinned. “Connor and Lydia have an interesting story. They met while in Paris because her best friend is married to the New World ambassador to France.”

  “Did they meet at the Louvre or Notre Dame?”

  “He accidentally knocked her into the River Seine,” I deadpanned. That won me the stares of all three Tigers. I shrugged. “My brothers are idiots when it comes to girls.”

  Roderick looked as though he couldn’t quite decide whether he should laugh or not. He cleared his throat. “They had a peace marriage, did they not?”

  I nodded as I took another drink. “It’s a good thing too because otherwise Lydia never would have spoken to him again. And, honestly, who could blame her? But, my brother apparently made up for things because she’s very fond of him. He, of course, was smitten from the moment he saw her.” I paused deliberately and then added drily, “Floundering in the water, cussing him out in French.”

  Baran made a little choking sound. Yeah, this was going to get back to Connor. Oh well, it was worth it, if this worked. I smiled at Roderick and Venetia. “Though it probably isn’t as dramatic as near drowning and all that ensues, I confess to being interested in hearing how the two of you met.”

  I almost choked on the sudden tension flowing from all three Tigers. I bit back a cough as I stared wide eyed at the two older Tigers who weren’t looking at each other, and then glanced at Baran. Who was back to being as expressive as stone. Great. What did I say this time?

  Venetia’s voice could have summoned icicles when she broke the heavy silence in a low hiss, “Do you truly expect me to believe that my son has not already told you of that information?”

  Desperately trying to repair whatever insult I had caused now, I offered a tentative smile as I rubbed the side of my neck. “Well, to be honest, Baran hasn’t shared very many stories about his life before he and I met.”

  “I see.” Venetia’s eyes narrowed, and I had the distinct impression of being hunted when she asked, “Just how is it the two of you met? A mere happenstance of the matching or did you appeal to the council in charge of selection to be chosen a
s my son’s mate.”

  A laugh burst free before I could stop it. I quickly covered my mouth and stifled the laughter, but I couldn’t quite banish my amusement. “Forgive me, it’s just so funny to think I would do that.” I grinned at the TDS and touched his hand where it rested on the table as I continued, “I was only sixteen when we were matched and at that particular time Baran’s name was a legend tossed around in the Tracker training camps as a prime example of the sort of personality that would never be able to adapt to Tracker ways.”

  Turning my attention back to Venetia, I added truthfully, “I knew next to nothing about him ten years ago. I didn’t even know he was my betrothed or that I had already been pledged to someone until King Caderyn introduced us to each other the day before our wedding.”

  Baran’s mother scoffed more elegantly than I knew was possible. Her cold gaze settled on our touching hands as she murmured, “Then, you never knew each other.”

  “Not really. We worked together on a hunt once the month beforehand, but that was it. Oh, except when I had caught a glimpse of him before that . . . in passing.”

  “What did you think of him,” Roderick interjected.

  I traced over Baran’s wedding band and grinned at him before I turned my grin on Roderick and Venetia. “I thought that I didn’t envy whoever would be stuck with him as a mate. Our marriage, therefore, certainly proves that the Creator has a sense of humor.”

  ΘΘΘΘΘΘ

  Chapter Nine

  Baran

  The cold air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath in an attempt to still the Tiger’s restlessness. Standing on the back deck, I didn’t care about the north wind or the snowflakes that had begun falling. The freezing air was a welcome change. After Venetia finally left the table, I had been unable to withstand another moment watching my wife entertain Roderick with stories of her strangest hunts. I still didn’t understand how it was she could be so . . . friendly to him. Of course, she did not know the real Roderick, the one I knew far too well.

  I should have told her. I should have explained it to her this morning, but I had behaved the coward and once more avoided dredging up my family’s past. Something that had been easily excused when I was focused solely on my mate. I closed my eyes and drew in another deep breath of frigid air. Much as Raina deserved to know the truth, I kept finding myself hoping that we could make it through this trip without divulging it. She didn’t realize how precarious my strength was in this regard or that I feared I would lose everything, lose her, if I revealed all.

  The wind changed and I coughed as the pungent stench of ‘nip enveloped me. I opened my eyes and a snarl sprang to my lips as I caught sight of Madoc staggering out from the woods. Even if my half-brother did not share my sensitivity to the potent mix of opium, nutmeg, and moly that comprised the drug of nepetia or ‘nip, he still should have known better than to dabble with it. Despite the way Venetia always indulged him, I struggled to believe that even she would tolerate Madoc fooling around with a drug that provoked hallucinations and a vulnerability to suggestion to an even greater amount in Clan Felidae than the other clans. She had always made it clear that she wanted my younger brother to follow in his father’s footsteps and pursue a diplomatic career. Madoc becoming addicted to ‘nip would undermine that ambition even more than any of his past recklessness.

  Madoc slipped in the snow and barely kept from falling on his face. I growled as I marched down to the yard. Every time I thought he couldn’t sink lower, every time I thought that perhaps he would not do something more foolish, he surpassed my fears. I never should have allowed Venetia to blackmail me into leaving him in her care after I dragged him back half dead last summer. I should have put him in a cage and sent him to trial for violating the edicts regarding the security of the Barrier and endangering innocents with his troll baiting. Sent him to join a workforce far from the protection of Venetia. Perhaps, on the West Coast.

  Reaching my brother, my snarl grew as I realized his scent was being suffocated by both the ‘nip and unadulterated ambrosia. Did he have a death wish? Ambrosia was not meant for Therians. It was one of the few substances that would work against our metabolism and send us into a stupor at best. I yanked him upright, eyes watering as I reacted to the ‘nip. “Have you lost all common sense? All decency?”

  Madoc raised bloodshot eyes to meet mine and then the Tiger ghosted over his face. He growled, “I don’t answer to you.”

  “You’re not answering to anyone.” I tightened my grip on his already rumpled shirt, barely resisting the urge to shake him. Or hit him. “That is the problem, Madoc. You are setting your own tail on fire, and you will burn everything you pretend to care about down if you don’t stop.”

  Madoc snarled and then he shoved me back a step, wresting away from my hold. He glared at me and shifted his head into that of a Tiger’s. He gave a coughing growl as he stepped forward only to lean too far as he lost his balance. He staggered pathetically as he was forced back into mortal form.

  He snarled and lunged forward. I sidestepped allowing him to land in the snow. Anger and disgust swept over me as I yanked him back to his feet. Grasping him by the shoulders, I shook him as I demanded, “What is wrong with you? ‘Nip?”

  “Not me,” he growled, but there was still a slur muddying his words. “Friends.”

  “What friends? Name them.”

  I wasn’t surprised when he refused to answer, when he couldn’t even look me in the eye. It was just another tally in Madoc’s long list of lies. I glared at him. “There is a clutch of Vampyres in the New World. There are humans who are just waiting for one Therian to make a mistake. Just one. Look at you. You are well on your way to being that one.”

  “Says the great hero,” Madoc slurred. “You never put a toe out of line.” His eyes were dilated and his mouth turned up into a smirk. “Until you decided to marry that little mistoa. How long exactly will it take before you’ve had enough of her? And, you abandon her. Before she has any cubs sharing her tainted blood, of course.”

  I punched him hard. Madoc fell backwards. He scrambled back to his feet, and I blocked his own attempted attack. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, I yanked him closer as I raised my fist.

  “Enough! Baran, let your brother go.” Venetia’s cool voice didn’t change as she turned to Madoc and added, “Go inside and clean up at once. I will not be embarrassed by you as well as your older brother.”

  I released Madoc, watching impassively as he stumbled his way past Venetia and up to the house. I hoped he didn’t go anywhere near Raina . . . for his sake. Knowing what was coming, I slowly returned my attention to the Tigress. Her golden eyes flickered with the same disapproval filtering through her perfume. “How dare you? You come to my home and attack my son. You could have harmed him.”

  “He has already harmed himself,” I countered, barely able to keep the tiger from surging forward in a challenge. “Do not pretend that you didn’t smell it on him. The unadulterated ambrosia that probably came from some still, and not from the Elves. Who knows what else was in his drinks? And, the ‘nip. Nepetia will kill him faster than anything else. Is that what you want?”

  “What I want, Baran, is your formal apology for attempting to kill my son.”

  I straightened, squaring my shoulders, as I forced down the roiling anger just roaring to be unleashed. I forced my emotions down summoning the impassivity that had served as my shield for so long. My voice sounded stony to my own ears as I responded in a low voice, “If I had been trying to kill him, Madoc would be dead. As it is, you will lose him, Venetia, but not to me. You will lose him because you refused to listen to my warnings and because you decided to coddle and spoil him. Worse than you did Genevieve, although she at least has turned out to be a halfway decent Therian. But Madoc? You are always protecting him from the consequences of his actions. He’s not a cub anymore. Madoc is poised to go Fringe at any moment. The only question in my mind is how many innocents will he destroy when he finally do
es? And when it happens and you see what your son has become, Venetia, there should be no doubt in your mind that you played a role in it all with your inability to influence Madoc toward any honor.”

  She slapped me. The Tiger ghosted across her face as she hissed, “You know nothing. You tainted the bloodline. You are without honor for defying my wishes as your mother. Remove yourself from my sight.”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to say many words I had long left unsaid. Instead, I offered a curt nod and strode back to the house. My cheek still stung from Venetia’s strike, but it was nothing to the hot anger coursing through me. This had gone far enough.

  I found Raina still speaking with Roderick in the informal dining room. I had not heard the question, but Raina looked amused. “Asking a lady’s age is in rather poor taste for a former ambassador.”

  Roderick opened his mouth to respond, but then he caught sight of me. He tested the air with a quick sniff and then nodded to Raina. “Excuse me, it is past time I go see what my son is doing.”

  Before he could leave, I growled at Raina, “Come on. We’re leaving.”

  Confusion filled her wide eyes and barely seeped through her perfume. “What?”

  I turned and stalked back out of the room without answering.

  “Baran,” came Raina’s call. She hurried to my side, taking three steps to my one. “Why are you doing this? What happened?”

  She sniffed the air and reached out to grab my arm. “Wait a minute, why do you smell like ‘nip and an ambrosia elixir?”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t take the time to talk. It would dark in less than two hours, and we would need to drive fast to make Allagash before the sun went down. But, only if we were able to leave soon.

  Raina stuck by my side all the way to our room, and I was grateful for it since it meant I knew she wasn’t in danger from Madoc . . . or Venetia. As soon as the door closed behind us, however, she grabbed my wrist. “Wait! Baran, you need to tell me what’s going on?” Her hazel eyes grew lighter, hinting at gold, as she asked in a low voice, “Are there Fringe here?”