Tiger Striped

by Jennifer Ashley

  “No!” Carly screamed. She flung herself in front of her mate, just as the noise of gunfire filled the room.

  Chapter Eight

  For Tiger, everything suddenly became very clear.

  He saw Carly with her arms outstretched, pasting herself against the front of his bloody body. He heard Connor shouting and saw the men’s fingers move on triggers.

  The tiger-girl’s wail cut through the noise and fired Tiger’s blood like a burning electric wire.

  Save her …

  There was no other option.

  Tiger lifted Carly from her feet an instant before the weapons went off. She made the “Eep!” sound she liked to when he did something unexpected, and then she was out of the way.

  Tiger kept turning after he let her go, kicking to sweep those closing in on him off their feet. He moved so fast that by the time the guns went off he’d destroyed their aim. Men ducked, cursed, and pointed pistols up or downward to keep bullets from hitting their fellows.

  Once they regained their bearings, they’d shoot again, thirty men determined to take Tiger down.

  Didn’t matter. Tiger trusted that Carly and Connor would get the tiger-girl to safety while he finished this.

  He launched into his enemies, not holding back. He barely felt the bullets embed in his body, another dose of tranq entering his blood.

  Carly’s touch had helped ease his initial pain and erase the drugs trying to seep through him. He was stronger for it, able to resist the barrage that came at him now.

  Tiger’s most basic instinct was not to kill. He’d been made to help, not hurt.

  But sometimes …

  Carly yelled. Connor echoed the cry, the word sounding like Here!

  Now more men were in the room. They also wore black, but the uniforms weren’t the same. The commander of the new troop had very short white-blond hair, light blue eyes, and a hard face. Behind him came three Shifters, all black-haired and blue-eyed, and all very pissed off.

  “Tiger!” Walker Danielson’s voice sliced through his haze. “Stand down. We got this.”

  The man in charge of the enemy soldiers snapped, “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Major Danielson, Sergeant. This is my op now.”

  Tiger wasn’t sure how Walker knew the man was a sergeant, but the sergeant came to stiff if angry attention and popped off a salute.

  “Yes, sir.” The obedience was belligerent, but given.

  “Tiger, lad …”

  Liam Morrissey, followed by his father and his brother, the latter with the huge Sword of the Guardian sheathed on his back, waded through the hostile men.

  Won’t be needing the sword today, Tiger thought dimly.

  All three Morrisseys headed for Tiger, but Tiger turned his back on them and strode for the cage, coming down out of his tiger-beast as he went.

  Connor at the cage became human again, his face draining of color when he saw his uncles and grandfather. “Oh, shite.”

  Behind him, the young woman grabbed the bars, her cries escalating to shrieks as she tried to break them. Her distress beat on Tiger, the need to help her battering all else aside.

  He reached the cage. Carly looked up at him in perfect understanding. The fact that she knew exactly what was going on without Tiger having to say a word made the ache of his injuries recede. She was the mate of his heart in the truest sense of the word.

  Tiger seized the bars of the cage and pulled.

  “Tried that,” Connor said. “The two of us couldn’t budge them. It’s some kind of Shifter-resistant metal or something.”

  Tiger didn’t answer. He let go, closed his eyes, put both hands on one bar, turned sideways, and pushed.

  The tiger-girl inside didn’t wait. She seized the bar and pushed with him, her wordless cries filled with determination.

  Behind him, Walker barked commands. “Get that cage open,” was one of them.

  “It’s sealed,” the sergeant said, sounding triumphant. “No one goes in or out.”

  Tiger sensed the sea of bodies parting for Dylan Morrissey. That happened for Dylan. The older Shifter, who’d seen everything and been through so much, said nothing as he walked to them, only took hold of the bar around Tiger’s grip and leant his strength.

  “Come on then, Sean,” Liam said. “We can’t let Dad show us up.”

  Two more pairs of hands joined in, and then Connor’s. Liam’s voice sounded again, directed at Connor. “I’ll be talking to you later.”

  Connor moaned. “Oh, man, I am so screwed.”

  His chagrin agitated the tiger-girl, who snarled at Liam. Liam huffed a laugh. “Kill me later, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s get you out of this first.”

  Carly came to help, grasping the bars below Tiger’s grip. She couldn’t make a dent, and he knew it, yet she refused to stand and do nothing. Another thing Tiger loved about her.

  The iron bar creaked, bent, and then broke. A sound like a thunderclap rang through the room, and dust and pebbles rained down from the cement ceiling.

  Tiger ripped the pieces of bar away, and then started on the next one.

  With the Morrisseys and the tiger-girl helping, the second bar broke more rapidly, the desert-dried rock above crumbling into a white rain.

  Tiger reached in and yanked the young woman out of the cage. She shrieked and fought, her terror renewed. She wanted out, but she didn’t know who all these men were—men who had caged her, just as they’d caged Tiger once upon a time.

  Tiger dragged the tiger-girl against him. She struggled and struck out, her blows on his wounded body hurting, but Tiger stood firm.

  He put his hands around her face and tilted her head up so that she looked into his eyes. Tiger studied hers, yellow irises with flecks of deep gold, the eyes of a tiger.

  The young woman at last stilled, staring at him in disbelief. Then she gave another cry, one of awakening, awareness, and hope.

  She flung her arms around Tiger, and he gathered her to him. Her tangled and ruined hair was rough against his cheek, and she was shaking all over, but he held her hard, a grief he’d embraced for nearly thirty years loosening and flowing away.

  He heard Liam’s intake of breath. “Goddess, what the hell is he doing?”

  And then came Carly’s beautiful laugh. “He’s doing what’s only natural, Liam Morrissey. Don’t you get it? She’s his cub.”

  Chapter Nine

  Carly melted close to Tiger as he held on to the cub that had been taken from him so many years ago.

  He’d told Carly the tale—he’d been forced to breed, right after his Transition, with another Shifter woman who had then died bringing in the baby. They’d showed Tiger the cub briefly then taken it away, explaining to him later that it had died.

  They’d also told him his cub had been a son. The baby had been wrapped up and they hadn’t allowed him to touch it.

  Tiger might not have been able to tell the difference at that point, or know enough how to. He’d barely been out of cubhood himself.

  Why this girl had been brought here and caged Carly didn’t know. More experiments probably. Shifters had been used for those even before they were outed.

  “Hey, big guy.” Liam Morrissey’s voice was gentle, the purr of his cat coming through. “We need to go. Don’t worry—she’s coming with us.”

  The soldiers guarding the tiger-girl moved restlessly. They seemed inclined to obey Walker—the sergeant said he respected the chain of command. But, Carly sensed, only until the sergeant decided Walker didn’t have authority in this situation. From the little Walker had told her about the military, officers and NCOs didn’t always see eye to eye.

  “Take her out, Tiger,” Walker said sternly. “She’s released to my jurisdiction as commander of the military attachment to Shifter Bureau. Your CO has the orders,” he told the sergeant.

  Carly wondered if the CO—commanding officer—did. Walker couldn’t have known what they would find here, couldn’t have arranged this in advance. Tiger had
n’t known until whatever bond between him and his cub had awakened.

  Dylan hadn’t said a word. He had a lot of power, no matter that he was no longer a Shiftertown leader. But relinquishing the leader’s duties to his son meant Dylan was at large, roaming around to take care of things. Causing trouble, Connor always said darkly.

  Carly wondered if Dylan had known about this little hideout, if he’d known about the tiger-girl. If so, and if he’d kept it from Tiger, Carly was going to have a serious talk with him.

  But no, Dylan wasn’t the type to keep that kind of information to himself. He’d not only have told Tiger but arranged for a snatch and grab raid to rescue her. How Dylan had found them, though, Carly had no idea.

  She’d worry about it later. For now, she was happy to slide her arm around Tiger. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get her home and you fixed up.”

  “She’ll need clothes,” Connor pointed out. He looked down at himself and flinched. “Shite, so will I.”

  “Did ye shred your garments all over the place again?” Sean Morrissey asked. “I keep telling you about that, lad.”

  Sean was the Guardian of their Shiftertown—he was quieter than Liam, his role of sending Shifters to the Summerland making him a little more contemplative.

  Tiger didn’t appear to hear any of them. He slowly released the tiger-girl without letting go of her completely, keeping her attention on him. One step at a time, he eased her toward the outer door.

  The soldiers fidgeted, hands on weapons. Walker’s men watched them carefully, their pistols ready as well. If one thing went wrong here, bullets would fly once more.

  Carly let go of Tiger long enough to approach Liam. “Give her your shirt.”

  Liam stared at her. “Wha—?”

  Dylan’s lips twitched. “Do it, lad.”

  Liam heaved a sigh. “The things I sacrifice for the lot of you.” He skimmed his T-shirt off over his head and handed it to Carly.

  The shirt was big, tight on Liam, but would hang loose on the tiger-girl. Liam looked a bit embarrassed standing around with his chest hair out, and he folded his arms while Sean openly grinned.

  Carly shook out the dust from the shirt and handed it to Tiger. “You’d better help her with this.”

  Tiger took the garment without looking at Carly. He brought the shirt between himself and his daughter and touched the cloth to her skin.

  The tiger-girl jumped and hissed. Carly wondered if anyone had given her clothes before, if she even understood what they were.

  The tiger-girl calmed a bit, leaned to the shirt, and took a big sniff. Her face screwed up and she snarled.

  Connor laughed. “That’s what she thinks of you, Uncle Liam.”

  The tiger-woman jerked her head up and switched her yellow gaze to Connor. She studied him a moment, and then her lips curved and she let out a hoarse, “Ha!”

  “See, she agrees with me,” Connor said, grinning hugely. “It’s all right, lass. Uncle Liam can’t help it. You’ll get used to his scent in time.”

  Sean chuckled. Liam pretended to look annoyed, but Carly saw his concern for Tiger and the young woman. Liam might seem harsh at times, but he watched over all his Shifters with a fatherly eye, protecting them as he did his own family.

  Tiger bunched up the shirt and lifted it so he could slide it over the tiger-girl’s head. She yowled, backing up fast, almost into the cage again.

  “It’s all right,” Connor told her swiftly. “Here, give it to me.”

  He took the shirt from Tiger’s slack hands and pulled it over his own head. Connor smoothed it down over his torso and then spread his hands. “See? Nothing to worry about.” He wrinkled his nose. “Though Uncle Liam can be rank.”

  “Leave off, lad,” Liam said good-humoredly.

  Connor skimmed out of the T-shirt and offered it to the tiger-woman.

  She came forward again, step after hesitant step. Carly held her breath. The entire room watched, even the soldiers who’d fought them, as the tiger-girl reached out and very carefully touched the shirt.

  Connor did nothing, only held the shirt still. The girl drew her hand back, and then, her face set, quickly snatched the T-shirt from Connor.

  She held it in her fist a moment before she tried to gather it up as Connor had, but it was clear she’d never worn clothing before. She didn’t know what to do.

  Connor reached to help her. The tiger-girl jerked away, her breath coming fast. She turned to Tiger, confused, and held out the shirt.

  Carly could see Connor’s hurt that she didn’t trust him. He balled his fists but did and said nothing—he wasn’t going to press the issue and maybe frighten her further.

  Carly’s heart went out to him. There would be time, she thought, time to get to know the tiger-girl, to learn what she’d been through, to teach her that they would take care of her. Time for her to grow used to them, to learn that Connor had a heart as big as Texas.

  Carly pressed her fingertips to her lips as Tiger helped his cub get the shirt over her head. More confusion ensued as she struggled to shove her arms through the sleeves—she had to bash at them with her fists until her hands poked through.

  At last Tiger got the shirt settled on her. As Carly had suspected, the fabric was long enough to cover the tiger-girl down to her thighs.

  Without thinking, Carly reached over and pulled the tiger-girl’s hair loose from the shirt’s collar where it was caught. She’d have done the same for one of her sisters, for Kim, for Kim’s little girl.

  Instantly the tiger-girl swung around, ready to strike, but when her gaze connected with Carly’s, she arrested the movement.

  She locked eyes with Carly, her curled hand raised, like a cat who’d started to swat and then realized this might be a friend. Carly froze, careful not to move.

  The tiger-girl stared at her for a long time, and then she reached out and ever so slowly brushed a fingertip over Carly’s hair.

  She blinked, wonder filling her expression. She drew her hand back and touched her own hair, her brows furrowing.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Carly said. “We’ll give you a good wash and trim and fix you right up. You’ll be the envy of everyone with that black and orange hair.”

  She thought of Seth, whose hair was the identical combination of colors, and her heart squeezed. She needed to get home.

  Tiger laced his arm around his daughter. She clung to him as they moved, one step at a time, through the parting soldiers, watched over by Walker’s men. Carly followed immediately behind Tiger, with Connor behind her. Sean and Liam came after them, Dylan bringing up the rear.

  Slowly the procession moved to the next room and the next and next, and then up the stairs to the ground floor of the little house. It was dark when they stepped out onto the porch, disorienting Carly for a moment. It had been late afternoon when they’d arrived, and the sun had vanished in the meantime.

  A wave of exhaustion hit her. Carly had been up since three a.m., and the long journey and lack of sleep was catching up to her.

  The tiger-girl didn’t flinch when Tiger took her out under the sky. This told Carly she’d been outside before, possibly while being moved from one prison to another—obviously she’d been brought here from Area 51 at some point in her life. Carly couldn’t imagine her captors letting her out for any other reason.

  The tiger-girl hissed when her bare feet touched the grating stones on the path, ones Carly could feel through her thin sandals. Tiger calmly lifted his daughter and carried her.

  Carly hesitated a step, waiting for the tiger-girl to fight him, but she seemed to understand that Tiger had come to take care of her. The parent-cub bond had already been in place—it had just needed activation. The tiger-girl wrapped her arms around Tiger’s neck and relaxed into him.

  Tiger carried her down the path Carly had come up with Tyson, straight to a gray SUV that hadn’t been there before. Carly didn’t know whose it was, but Walker strode past and opened the doors.

 
; Tiger climbed into the back and sat down with the tiger-girl on his lap. He jerked his head at Carly, indicating she should join them.

  Carly hung back, not wanting to scare the young woman, but the tiger-girl only glanced at Carly and then rested her head on Tiger’s shoulder. She was as exhausted as Carly.

  Carly scrambled in, settling herself against Tiger, seeking his warmth.

  Connor reached the SUV and peered under the seat Carly was sitting on. “Oi, those are my clothes.” He snatched them out, staring at them in puzzlement. “Ones from home, I mean. How’d you know to bring them?” he asked Walker.

  “I didn’t.” Walker jabbed his thumb at Sean. “His idea.”

  “Because I knew if you decided to shift ye wouldn’t bother to strip down first, ye daft lad,” Sean said. “Some in there for Tiger too.”

  “Wicked.” Connor hugged the shirt and jeans to his chest. “I’m glad you picked them out, not Uncle Liam. The man has no taste.”

  “Hear you loud and clear, nephew.” Liam looked into the SUV at Tiger. “What do you want to do, big guy?”

  “Take her home,” Tiger said without hesitation. “Where she belongs.”

  Liam chewed his lip, and Carly felt for him. This would be tricky. Tiger himself wasn’t supposed to exist—his records had been erased when he’d been rescued from Area 51. He did covert ops for Shifter Bureau, yes, but only a few humans besides Walker knew about him. Bringing in yet another un-Collared Shifter, who happened to be Tiger’s half-crazed daughter, would be difficult to hide.

  But if anyone could do it, Liam and Dylan could, Carly thought with tired confidence. They’d worked major miracles for all their Shifters.

  Liam squared his shoulders. “Right,” he said, then took a step back and slammed the door.

  Connor, dressed now, climbed into the front passenger seat and twisted to talk to them around its high back. “What’s your name?” he asked the tiger-girl.

  The tiger-girl looked at him blankly. Tiger hadn’t had a name when he’d come to them, either. Carly had called him Tiger, and Tiger had decided that was his name.