Tiger Magic su-5 Read online

  “Shifters have secrets?”

  Connor raised his hands and looked innocent. “Do we? I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re sweet and innocent. Honest.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Carly said, wanting to laugh.

  “So’s Brennan. He’s tried to get himself into Shiftertown before. Slimy bastard, he is.”

  “He creeped me out a little too,” Carly said. “But why does Walker need to spy on me? I don’t know any Shifter secrets. I keep telling everyone, I’d never met any Shifters until today. I mean yesterday.”

  “We will ask him,” Tiger said. He started for the kitchen in that fluid, silent way he moved.

  Carly ran after him and seized him by the arm. “Wait, wait. What are you doing?”

  Connor was across the room to them, his eyes wide as he took in Carly and Tiger. But he was alarmed more, Carly thought, because she’d grabbed hold of Tiger. Body language again. Connor was trying to protect her, but right now, not from the guy outside.

  Tiger did nothing but look down at Carly with his golden eyes that no longer held outrageous pain. He’d returned to the quiet watchfulness he’d exhibited when he’d helped her fix the car on the side of the road.

  “The best way to find out what he wants is to ask him,” Tiger said, patience in his voice.

  “But he has a gun . . .” Carly sighed and released him. “And you’ve already proven those don’t slow you down, not for long anyway.”

  “He might have a tranq,” Connor pointed out. “Or two.”

  “He does not have a tranquilizer, only a pistol,” Tiger said.

  Connor blinked. “And you know that how?”

  “Sight and scent.” Tiger spoke in clipped tones, like a soldier readying himself to confront his enemy. “Protect Carly while I find him.”

  Connor sighed, resigned. “You’re the super Shifter. Be careful, all right? I don’t want to have to explain to Liam why I lost you.”

  Tiger answered by fading down the hall toward Carly’s bedroom. Carly followed, not nearly as silently, her bare feet pattering on the floor.

  Tiger ignored Carly’s bed and her clothes, which had been neatly folded over a chair—by Yvette, probably—and noiselessly pulled up the blinds on her window. Then he started taking off his clothes.

  Tiger stripped all the way down, getting out of his clothes as smoothly and quietly as he did everything else. He was nicely proportional, strength showing in the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, the flat planes of his chest, the firm length of his back.

  He had a great ass too, as tight and good as the rest of him. Carly had seen at the hospital what hung between his legs in front, but even so, looking at it again made her mouth a little dry. “Maybe I’m still drunk,” she said. “But Tiger . . . Oh my God, you are hot.”

  Tiger barely acknowledged her, and Carly realized after a moment that he didn’t know what she meant.

  The next second, any words of explanation were pouring back down her throat, because Tiger changed into a . . . tiger.

  He did it rapidly, easily, limbs sliding from human down into the bent haunches and massive paws of a Bengal. Fur rippled across his body, orange with black stripes, a tail extending to brush the floor.

  He was gigantic, bigger than any tiger Carly had seen at a zoo. Her large bedroom was now a tight fit.

  Connor sighed as he pressed his way around Tiger to the window. “He always does this. Shifts and then makes me open the windows and doors for him. Quiet now.”

  Connor slid up Carly’s double-hung window, which gave on to the side of the house. Tiger put his paws on the sill.

  “What’s he doing?” Carly whispered frantically. “He won’t fit.”

  “He will. Watch.”

  How the hell Tiger got out the window when he was twice the size of the opening, Carly never understood. As a little girl, she’d had a cat that could flatten herself to crawl into the two-inch-high space under her dresser, but this was even more startling.

  Maybe it was the magic of being a Shifter, but damned if Tiger didn’t compact himself down and squirt through the window. He landed on the other side, went into an instant predatory crouch, and slunk into the darkness. Carly lost sight of him in a matter of seconds.

  “Crap, I thought he’d wait for me.” Connor put his head and shoulders out the window and climbed through with far less grace than Tiger had.

  “It’ll be okay, right?” Carly whispered. “Walker can’t hurt Tiger with his gun, and Tiger can’t hurt him.”

  Connor landed on his feet outside. “Oh, I’d say Tiger can do whatever the hell he’s wanting to.”

  “I mean, Tiger can’t attack him. The Collar will stop him. That’s what it’s for, isn’t it?”

  “Shite.” Connor’s whisper was agitated. “Shite. Shite. That’s what he’s after. Stay here.”

  Screw that. As Connor faded into the darkness, Carly grabbed her jeans and tugged them on, then stuffed her feet into sandals. She sat on the sill, swung her legs around, slithered through the window, and landed with a thump on a patch of grass that needed mowing. Carly reflected, as she started jogging toward the backyard, that at oh dark thirty in the morning, the air was at least cool.

  She heard a muffled shout and then Tiger’s growl, long and low. The rage in the sound was unmistakable, a wild animal ready to kill.

  “No!” Carly heard Connor’s agitated voice. “Crap. No. Stop it, now. Aw, Liam’s gonna kill me.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Snarling came out of the darkness, and Connor yelling under his breath, but nothing from the watcher.

  Carly ran forward. Trying to keep out of sight meant she couldn’t see what not to trip over in the darkness, so she slammed into the patio chair she’d dragged to this side of the house a few days ago for a little sunbathing. Carly cursed as she went down, got up, rubbed her sore shin, and picked her way more slowly across the yard.

  She reached the pitch-blackness near the fence to find a man on the ground and Tiger fully on top of him, his huge paw ready to rip out the man’s throat. Connor had his hands on Tiger’s back, pulling, without result.

  Tiger’s Collar was silent, no sparking, nothing. The man under Tiger was Walker, his face a pale smudge in the darkness. His face was bloody, and he was out. Or dead. The man’s pistol, broken into pieces, lay on the grass next to him.

  Carly saw all this in a frenzied second, then she joined with Connor trying to pull Tiger off him.

  Tiger snarled, his face wrinkling with his deadly growl. His claws were poised on Walker’s neck, Connor’s tugs and pleas doing nothing.

  “Don’t kill him, all right?” Connor was saying. “They’ll find out, they’ll get Liam, and the Goddess only knows what they’ll do to you.”

  “What would they do to Tiger?” Carly asked in a frantic whisper.

  “Take him, quarantine him, execute him, maybe. Today was bad enough. We can’t let anyone know anything about Tiger.”

  Why not? Carly wondered. And why were Brennan and Walker this interested in him?

  Not the time to ask questions. Carly sank her hands into Tiger’s fur, finding it surprisingly warm and silky. He had a scruff, like her childhood cat, folds of fur loose for holding. The thought flashed through her head that he must have been adorably cute as a cub, with his mother carrying him in her mouth. Did Shifters do that?

  “Tiger, listen to Connor,” Carly said. “This guy’s not worth the jail time, or being executed over.”

  Tiger’s growls rippled through him, vibrating through Carly. Walker lay motionless, the bruise on the side of his head explaining why he was out. Alive, though, thank God. She could hear his ragged breathing.

  “If you hurt him,” Carly went on, “if they take you away, I’ll never see you again. I’d hate that. I want to see you again.”

  Another huge growl rumbled, and then Tiger changed. The fur under Carly’s hands rapidly became human flesh, and in a few seconds, Carly found herself sitting on her damp la
wn with her arms around a large, well-muscled, naked man.

  Tiger pulled her close, his strength undiminished, the heat of his body intense against the cooling night. His hot skin was smooth under Carly’s fingers, and she couldn’t resist running her hands down his back.

  Tiger leaned in, and Carly thought he’d kiss her, but instead he brushed his nose along her cheekbone, then nuzzled her from forehead to chin.

  Carly had never had a man nuzzle her before. She’d never realized how sensual that could be, how intimate.

  She touched Tiger’s cheek, which was bristly with whiskers, his golden eyes still as he watched her. Tiger turned his face against her palm, and the tip of his tongue brushed her fingers.

  The heat of him, the touch of his mouth, made Carly go shaky, hot and cold, giddy. Warmth blossomed in her female spaces, as did the need to have him touch her there with his strong hands.

  Lust. Must be. That and reaction to her vast hurt and anger at Ethan.

  But Tiger’s presence was blotting out Ethan’s face, his voice, his mean sarcasm. Ethan drained rapidly away as the hot sensations of Tiger snaked through Carly’s body.

  Tiger nuzzled her again, his breath warm. The tip of his tongue touched her cheek, hesitant, then again, bolder, a trail of fire. Tiger drew back then, hands coming up to cup Carly’s face as he studied her.

  Connor cleared his throat. “So, um, does this mean you aren’t going to kill him?”

  Tiger’s fury came back into his eyes. “He threatens my mate.”

  “Maybe that’s true, big guy. But, like I said, if you damage him more, we aren’t going to be able to cover it up.”

  “You won’t be able to anyway,” Carly said. “When Walker wakes up, he’ll tell the police that Tiger knocked him out, or he’ll tell the Shifter Bureau, probably both. What do we do about that?”

  Connor looked down at Walker, stretched out and silent. “I don’t know. But we can’t kill him. No matter how we tried to hide that, someone would find him and figure out he was at one time mauled by a Shifter.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting killing him,” Carly said. “Sheesh. I meant maybe putting him to bed and reasoning with him when he wakes up.”

  Connor huffed. “Reason with an armed Special Forces dude, who’s probably trained to take out Shifters with his bare hands?”

  “He didn’t take out Tiger.”

  “Yeah, well, Tiger’s different.”

  Tiger paid no attention to Connor. He continued to look down at Carly, smoothing back a lock of her hair with gentle fingers.

  Connor groaned and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Goddess help me, why do I have to make all these decisions? Carly, you have any duct tape?”

  “Probably.” Carly looked at Walker and shared Connor’s dismay. “Crap.”

  “Hurry. Before he wakes up.”

  The hardest thing was convincing Tiger to let her go. Tiger rose with Carly, towering over her, a giant of a man. A naked giant of a man. In her yard.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said to him. “I’m only going to the garage. You stay here, and keep out of sight. If my neighbors see you, they’ll have every cop in the city up here.”

  Tiger took a step back into the shadows. At least he understood the danger. Carly felt Tiger’s hard gaze on her back as she ran across the yard, though, remembering at the last minute to dodge the patio chair on her way to the open window.

  * * *

  Blood. Tiger smelled the saltiness of it, the tang that made the beast inside him want to feed. Animal triumph had shot through him when he’d smacked Walker with his paw, one blow knocking him out. His claws had raked the man’s face, drawing blood, waking up the carnivore he was.

  Carly’s scent had blotted out the blood smell, sending Tiger’s thoughts in a wildly different direction. He smelled her female need, her ongoing anger at the man Ethan, her worry about Tiger and Walker lying at his feet.

  Her scent had wrapped around Tiger’s senses, soothing him down from his anger. He was able to change to human, to touch her, relax into her.

  Nuzzling her made him forget all about Walker and even Connor; licking her had been even better. Tiger had observed Liam and his mate—and Sean and his mate, Spike and his mate, and others—touching mouths. Kissing.

  Tiger wanted to do that with Carly, but he wasn’t sure how it worked. When he’d asked Connor about kissing some time ago, Connor had laughed and said that Tiger would figure it out when the time came.

  Tiger wasn’t so certain. He was pretty sure there was more to it than pressing lips together, and he wanted to get it right with Carly.

  Now that Carly was gone, back into her house, her scent wasn’t as intense, and the blood smell came back. The need to make the kill surged. The tiger in him wanted to finish this, to rip out Walker’s throat for threatening Carly, slam his body down, and walk away. Quick, efficient, satisfying.

  Tiger clenched his fists, his growl barely contained. Connor was right that if he hurt Walker the humans would find Tiger and take him away, and then they’d discover that his Collar was fake. Liam and his family would pay the price for that. Then Tiger’s captors would put him into a cage again and experiment on him, or simply shoot him full of drugs until he died.

  Tiger started to shake. He wanted to run . . . Run, never stop. Never let them take you.

  Never see Carly again.

  No. Tiger needed her and needed her touch. Only Carly.

  Carly came out of the house again, this time through the back door. Her scent drifted to him from across the yard, calming the fight-or-flight instinct to where Tiger could manage it. He exhaled.

  “Found it.” Carly held out a roll of dull silver tape to Connor.

  Connor took it. “Hurry. I think he’s coming around.”

  He unrolled a long length of tape, then wound it around Walker’s ankles and calves. Connor forestalled Carly running back for scissors by letting his fingers sprout claws and slitting the tape neatly with one Feline razor-sharp nail.

  “Handy,” Carly said.

  Connor’s fingers became all human again, and he wrapped Walker’s wrists with another layer of tape. Walker swam to wakefulness, eyes focusing as Connor cut a six-inch strip of tape.

  Carly took the strip from Connor. “Sorry,” she said to Walker as she pasted it over his mouth.

  Walker only looked at her quietly over the duct tape. No anger, no frustration, no emotion at all.

  Tiger didn’t like that look, one that said Walker wasn’t worried about anything they did to him. Carly didn’t seem to like it either. “Maybe some more tape, Connor,” she said, sounding nervous.

  Connor added an extra layer to Walker’s legs and wrists before he handed the tape back to Carly. “Tiger, want to carry him?”

  “No.” The word came out harshly. With the blood smell strong, Tiger wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d take Walker far from Carly and Connor and kill him.

  Connor understood. “It’s all right. He’s not that big.” He got to his feet, heaved the bound Walker over his shoulders, and balanced the load. Connor wasn’t full-grown yet, but he was wiry and strong.

  “Tiger, get dressed and meet us in the garage,” Connor said. “Carly, I’m going to need the keys to your car.”

  Carly already had them out. Tiger ignored Connor’s instructions and followed them into the house and through to the garage, not trusting Walker not to twist his way out of the bonds. The man was a fighter. He’d know how.

  Inside the closed garage, Carly opened the car’s back door, looked inside, and put her hands on her hips. Tiger liked when she stood that way—the stance emphasized the curve of her waist and her sweet backside.

  “If we put him in there, someone will see him, won’t they?” she asked Connor.

  “I’m thinking they will,” Connor said.

  Carly heaved a sigh and clicked the remote on her key chain, and her trunk popped open.

  Connor rolled the inert Walker into the trunk. Carly
reached for the lid. “I’m really sorry,” she said to Walker before she and Connor slammed the lid shut.

  Only then did Tiger let himself retreat to Carly’s bedroom, fetch his clothes, and carry them back with him to the garage. He also brought Carly’s purse from the living room. Having lived for months in the same house with Liam and his mate, Kim, Tiger had learned that these large bags were full of things females considered essential. They fussed when they didn’t have them.

  Carly gave Tiger a wide smile he’d treasure for a long time. “Why, thank you, Tiger. What a sweetheart you are.”

  “Hey,” Connor said as Tiger pulled on his clothes. “I have to wrap a guy in duct tape and stuff him into your trunk after Tiger knocks him out, and he’s the sweetheart?”

  “You’re sweet too, Connor.” Carly dropped a kiss onto Connor’s cheek.

  Tiger’s growl stifled itself. If Carly had done that to any other Shifter, he’d have had said Shifter on the floor. But Connor was a cub. Not a threat. Cubs were never threats.

  Carly gestured Tiger toward the backseat. “Get in.”

  Connor held out his hand. “You’re not coming. You stay here, out of trouble.”

  Carly said, “No,” at the same time Tiger did. Connor looked at them both in exasperation.

  “You are not driving my car around with Walker wrapped up in the trunk,” Carly said. “Besides, I need it to go to work tomorrow—today. Apparently, I still have a job.”

  “I’ll bring it back,” Connor began, but Tiger ended the discussion by getting himself into the front seat of the car.

  “She comes,” he said. “We protect her.”

  Carly smiled in triumph and slid into the driver’s seat. “Besides,” she said, “You have to ride Sean’s motorcycle back.”

  “All right,” Connor said, looking weary. He shut the door for Carly. “But Liam’s going to shit himself, I’m thinking.”

  “How did you get to my house anyway?” Carly asked Tiger as she hit the control to open the garage door. “I don’t see a car outside, or another motorcycle. Connor didn’t sneak out and get you while I was asleep, did he?”