White Tiger (A Shifter's Unbound Novel) Page 8

  “I hate it.” The words were vehement, Kendrick’s eyes burning.

  “I thought tigers were solitary,” Addie ventured.

  “I’m Shifter. It’s different. We’re not meant to be alone. I surrounded myself with Shifters to take care of them. Their bodies, their souls. I’m not only Shifter, I’m Guardian.”

  Kendrick’s muscles were tight in the dim lamplight, his fists curled.

  “You’re the protector,” Addie said, trying to understand. “Of other Shifters.”

  Kendrick shook his head, his look still savage. “I stand between them and terrifying darkness. I don’t let their souls be enslaved. Ever. But they are scattered from me, gone. If they die . . . I can’t help them.”

  And that was hurting him. Addie didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but she threw back the covers and slid from the bed. She managed to remember at the last minute to use the steps and made it to the braided carpet without mishap.

  “We’ll find them.” Addie went to him, stopping a foot or so away. If she got too close, she might not be able to talk. “Tomorrow, we’ll go out and start looking for them.”

  Addie had no idea who they were or how to find them, but Kendrick’s expression was so bleak she felt the need to comfort him.

  Kendrick didn’t soften. “No, I will stay here. This is a good place. But I will look for them all the same.”

  Addie stared—he made no sense. “You know, you are seriously confusing.”

  “I know that. I confuse myself. What the hell? I’ve learned to live with it.”

  The spark of humor in his eyes was self-deprecating. Addie drew a breath and jammed her arms over her chest again, mostly to keep from reaching for him.

  “Who are these Shifters you need to find? Maybe I can help.”

  “They are very good at hiding. I doubt you’d know where to start looking.” Kendrick let out a breath, a sound much like his tiger had made. “Twenty years ago, when humans began rounding up Shifters, I escaped them.” He pitched his voice very low, so that anyone listening at the door or through the fireplace would hear only sound not words. “I found others like me, and we came together for protection. We stayed hidden, surviving, and I became their leader. We moved to Texas several years ago. Last year, we were found by other Shifters, who destroyed our place of hiding. We ran, breaking into small groups, to hide until I find a new place to gather again. But it has been some time—six months or so—since we scattered. I might never find some of them again.”

  He finished and closed his mouth with a sudden snap, as though he’d not meant to say so much.

  Well, that explained a bit—why he didn’t wear a Collar, why he wasn’t in a Shiftertown. She was still unclear on a few things, but she realized this close-mouthed man telling her even that much was a victory.

  Her urge to comfort him rose strongly once more, and she took the last step between them and touched his arm.

  “You’ll find them,” Addie said. “I know you will.”

  Kendrick’s gaze swept down to her, landing on her fingers on his forearm. The muscles twitched there. She’d seen, before he’d flicked his eyes past hers, the hunger he’d shown last night in the diner.

  Beneath her fingers, Kendrick’s skin was smooth and tight, warm. The wiry hair on his arm was nothing like his tiger’s fur but Addie wanted to stroke him all the same.

  His entire body was warm, the heat radiating from it embracing her. Addie had pictured wrapping herself around the tiger—even stronger came the vision of her twining herself around his human body.

  He wasn’t comfortable with her touch, Addie sensed. When she’d stroked him as tiger, he’d purred. Now he stood rigid, as though not wanting her near.

  She tried to smile as she slid her fingers away. “Well, if we’re going to start looking for a bunch of Shifters tomorrow, we’ll need to sleep tonight.”

  Kendrick caught her hand. His gaze fixed on her again, predator’s eyes, before he pulled Addie to him with sudden strength.

  One arm went around her, holding her tightly against his body. His hand went to her hair and gently tipped her head back, Kendrick’s look still haunted as he came down to her and covered her mouth in a kiss.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kendrick kissed Addison with fierce need. The craving sprang up inside him, making him drag her closer, press her body the full length of his. Her softness called out to him; her breasts crushed against him and heightened his longing.

  She tasted of sweetness and bitter coffee, loneliness and joy. Her body moved under his, the thin T-shirt catching in his hands. Kendrick hid a growl as he swept his tongue into her mouth, opening her farther to him.

  She filled him. He’d wanted her from the moment she’d smiled at him when he’d slid onto the stool at her counter. Her open friendliness had caught at him, her entire being seeming to embrace him. Even her name tag had invited him in—Hello, My Name is Addison.

  Kendrick knew he’d returned night after night only for the flash of her blue eyes, the curve of her smile.

  He kissed the mouth that smiled so readily, locked his hand behind her neck to pull her harder into him. Addison’s fingers sank into his arms, her body curving under his. She made a small noise in her throat, which turned up the flame inside him.

  Want this woman. Want all of her.

  Pouring out his story had seemed natural. She’d put so much on the line helping him—she deserved to know what she was getting into.

  Kendrick’s hand found the curve of her waist, the warm flesh under the shirt. The loose fabric let him slide up under it to the smoothness of her back, which was bare, she having removed her bra for sleeping.

  He could have this shirt off her, catch the weight of her breasts, taste them. Basic and raw, he’d thought before. Yes, it would be, and it would be the most pleasure he’d ever known.

  Kendrick deepened the kiss, liking the little start she gave, tasting her surprise in his mouth. She flowed against him, not fighting, not shoving him away. His hand went to her stomach, up to the firm round of her breast, the nipple tightening against his palm. Kendrick stroked the hardening tip, loving the little sound Addie made in her throat. He scented her rising need, the dampness that would be beginning between her thighs.

  What he wanted wasn’t tame and tender. He wanted to take Addison to the bed and climb into her arms, thrusting into her welcoming body. Harder and faster he’d go, until his burning need for her was sated. If it ever could be.

  Addison . . .

  A yowling cry shattered the silence. The sound was like a fall of ice on Kendrick’s heated skin.

  He fought his way back from drowning in Addison and took a sharp breath. The only thing that could cut through mating frenzy was his cub’s cry of distress.

  Kendrick released Addison, but she was already backpedaling from him, then ducking around him, hurrying from the room. Kendrick dragged in another breath, the absence of her warmth like a slap, and followed her.

  Addison was across the hall and running into the boys’ room before Kendrick could leave their bedroom. He stifled a growl of admonishment—she didn’t understand that she should wait for him to assess the danger.

  He scented no danger, however, nothing in the room but his cubs. Zane and Brett had become their tigers and were on the upper bunk. Brett was sitting on his haunches blinking at Zane, who was howling a small tiger roar, the sound filled with anguish. Brett, watching his brother, whimpered.

  Robbie was clinging on to the ladder, trying to pet Zane. He looked as though he wanted to cry as well but he was holding it in to comfort the younger ones.

  Addison went straight to Robbie, lifted him from the ladder, and gave him a big hug before setting him down. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  Robbie shrugged his slim shoulders. “They’re scared.”

  Kendrick reached
to the top bunk and scooped up his cubs, one in each arm. “Hey now,” he said softly. He rumbled low in his throat, a wordless sound that made the cubs snuggle into his bare chest.

  Brett recovered first, nuzzling his father and then licking his cheek. Zane shivered, still mewling.

  Addison gave Robbie another hug. Robbie usually disliked anyone but Kendrick touching him, but he didn’t shrug off Addison’s touch. He clasped her in return, his small body trembling.

  When Addison finally released Robbie, he looked calmer, less likely to give in to tears. Addison, her hair mussed from Kendrick furrowing it, her lips wet with his kiss, reached for Zane. “Let me hold him.”

  Zane continued to cry. Kendrick quietly relinquished him to her, and Addison lifted the cub into her arms.

  She staggered a little as she discovered that a baby tiger was heavier than he looked, and very squirmy. Addison got Zane firmly into the crook of her arm then stroked the top of his head.

  Zane opened his eyes, realized Addison held him, and quieted down. Brett remained with his father but watched Addison with watery green eyes.

  “There you go,” Addison crooned at Zane. “Feeling better? Want to sleep now?”

  Zane squeezed his eyes shut again and let out a little yowl. Kendrick knew exactly what he was saying—he didn’t want to be left without Kendrick or Addison.

  “How about if I sleep in here with them?” Addison asked, turning her violet blue eyes to Kendrick. “You’re beat—you take the bed and get some rest, and I’ll bunk down in the trundle bed.”

  Kendrick tamped down his need and disappointment. He’d assumed the night would end with him inside Addison, but his sons came first. Not trusting himself to speak, he gave Addison a nod.

  Zane clung to Addison, but Brett climbed down from his father’s body, leaving a few light scratches on Kendrick’s bare flesh. Brett scampered across the room to the trundle bed that rested against the wall and leapt onto it. Robbie, more quietly, moved after him and sat down on the bed’s edge.

  Addison jounced Zane as she went to join them. Kendrick watched in silence, feeling cold.

  Addison looked up at Kendrick as she sat down with Robbie. “Go away now. You sleep, and I’ll tell stories.”

  Kendrick felt no incentive to turn and leave the room. He wanted to linger, to curl up in the tiny bed next to Addison while his sons draped around them, and Addison’s clear voice told bedtime stories.

  “If you start, they won’t let you stop,” he warned.

  “Yes, we will,” Robbie said. “Good night, Dad.”

  Kendrick didn’t move. Addison waved a hand at him, as though reassuring him that all would be well.

  It would be, he knew. Addison had no treachery in her. Kendrick would have sensed it, scented it. The cubs liked her, and they were in a strange place, alone and cold. Addison, right now, was their beacon of warmth.

  Kendrick made himself turn away. Stiffening his resolve, he walked to the door.

  His resolve hadn’t been the only thing stiff as he’d kissed her. Even now, his cock was ready to resume its hardness, wanting to ease itself inside her.

  “Good night, then,” he said without turning.

  He took the last steps out into the cool hall, and closed the door firmly behind him. On the other side of the wood panels, he heard Addison say. “All right, then. I’ll start. Once upon a time . . .”

  There was a beautiful waitress and a fugitive white tiger Shifter . . .

  Kendrick had no idea how that story would turn out.

  * * *

  Kendrick stood a long time in the middle of the empty bedroom he was supposed to share with Addison, his body throbbing, before he climbed up into the bed.

  Addie’s warmth lingered in the nest she’d made, and her scent. Kendrick knew he should leap up, walk out of the house, shift to tiger, and sleep under the stars somewhere over the rise.

  Instead, he pulled the covers over him and lay with his eyes open, letting her surround him.

  He needed her with terrible fire. Kendrick had lived so long suppressing his libido, that its awakening had him in impossible pain.

  Kendrick’s mate, Eileen, had passed bringing in Zane. Females dying in childbirth was much rarer these days but it still happened.

  The problem with being Guardian was that Kendrick had been the one to send her to the Summerland. He’d kissed Eileen’s cold lips, smoothed her hair, and closed his eyes as he’d driven the sword into her chest.

  He’d risen and walked away, not opening his eyes until he’d been far from the pile of dust that had been his mate. He’d walked for days, trying to shake off the pain that clung to him like fog.

  He never wanted to be in the position to do that again.

  Kendrick drifted into a half slumber, his exhausted body forcing him into shutting down.

  Addison stood six feet from him on a sunny, flat stretch of ground. She was so real that Kendrick reached for her, but he couldn’t quite touch her. There seemed to be a barrier between then, like a soapy film in the air.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” Addison said. “The boys are fine too, Kendrick. What about you?”

  “They like you.” Kendrick reached again, his fingers sinking into the spongy barrier. “I like you.”

  “I’m glad.” Addison gave him that sunny smile again. “What is it you want?”

  Kendrick narrowed his eyes, confused at the question. Who was he speaking to? Addison in a dream? Coming to him because he knew he needed her? Or someone in her guise?

  Kendrick said nothing. He was standing in his underwear, wanting to go to her, enfold her in his arms again, but he couldn’t move.

  The barrier broke. Kendrick had been leaning on it, and he stumbled through. Addison turned and ran from him. Kendrick easily overtook her, sun warm on his back, and he caught her in his arms. She was laughing when he kissed her.

  Down to the warm grass, her clothes and his underwear melting away until they were body to body. Addison tilted her head back, her face softening as he slid straight into her.

  The sensation shot his heartbeat high, his body squeezing in triumph. But it wasn’t enough. Something kept him from feeling it all the way, kept him pumping into her in a desperate quest for it.

  This was a dream. It would never, ever be as satisfying as being with the real Addison, and everything within him knew it.

  Addison touched his face. “Kendrick, I lo—”

  She broke off, and her mouth opened in a sudden scream. The scream was muffled, as though the barrier had descended over both of them again.

  Kendrick looked up to see the Shifter, Ivan, whom he’d sent to dust in the diner. The man had an automatic pistol in his hand, great sorrow in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Guardian,” Ivan said. “I failed you.”

  Addison was still under him. Kendrick looked down and saw blood on her chest, her eyes vacant, her face gray. She was in her waitress uniform again, scarlet blood on the salmon pink material.

  Feral rage rose up inside Kendrick, blotting out every other thought, ever other sensation. He leapt to his feet as Addison shimmered and fell away to dust.

  He grabbed Ivan, yanking the pistol from him and breaking it into many pieces. Then he threw Ivan to the ground and spun around to find Addison standing behind him, alive, in the jeans and pretty shirt she’d put on in his hotel room.

  “Live your life, Kendrick,” Addison said. “You have so much. Live with every ounce of strength you have. Live it for your sons—for you.”

  Kendrick gave her a look of anguish. “This . . . isn’t . . . life.”

  Addison cocked her head. “Yes, it is. You’ll figure it out. Look around you, white tiger. Live.”

  The dream was ending. Kendrick felt himself swimming toward awarene
ss, reality kicking in.

  The light that surrounded Addison grew brighter and brighter until it stabbed into Kendrick’s eyes. Kendrick screwed up his face and turned away . . . and found himself waking in the guest bedroom, sunlight streaming in through the uncovered window into his face.

  The digital clock said it was nine, he heard the voices of his cubs on the other side of the fireplace wall, and smelled frying eggs and bacon.

  Kendrick rubbed his face, finding it wet. He groaned a little as he came off the bed. He was sore—he must have lain in one position, muscles rigid in his dreams.

  He was straightening up when he heard Addison’s voice, muffled but sharp with fear. “Whoa. Who is that?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kendrick was in his jeans and pulling on his shirt, racing barefoot through the giant living room and into the kitchen on the other side before Addison said another word.

  He found her at the sink, staring out the uncurtained window. Charlie was at the stove and the cubs were at the table, human and clothed, each drinking a glass of milk.

  Kendrick stopped close behind Addison and peered over her shoulder. “Who is who?”

  Addison shook her head, her newly shampooed hair brushing his nose. She still wore his T-shirt, tucked into her jeans. In spite of his worry, Kendrick wanted to slide his hands around her waist and find the warm woman underneath. The memory of being with her in the dream stabbed into him.

  Addie continued to stare outside. “I thought I saw someone. But he’s gone now.”

  Kendrick didn’t relax. Shifters could fade into shadows quicker than anyone, were masters at hiding. He didn’t scent any Shifters from here, not that it would be easy with the sharp bacon smell in the room and Addison filling all his senses.

  “I’ll check it out,” he said for the benefit of his cubs, who were watching with worry.

  “You’ll wear shoes, I hope,” Addison said, glancing at his bare feet. “That’s Texas out there.”

  Charlie gave a chuckle. “She has a point.”