White Tiger (A Shifter's Unbound Novel) Read online

Kendrick conceded, though he knew he’d only take them off again if he had to shift.

  As he ducked back to the bedroom for socks and boots, he heard Addison say, “If you didn’t have any electricity, Charlie, how did you keep the food so fresh? The milk was good and cold and so were the eggs.”

  “I have an icebox,” was Charlie’s good-natured response. “A real one, with ice. A big old tin-lined wooden thing in the cellar—it was my granddad’s. I just drive into town, buy a mess of ice, and keep it going. It’s as good as a real refrigerator and doesn’t use any power.”

  Addison turned as Kendrick came back into the kitchen.

  “Be careful, now,” she said, concern in her eyes.

  The admonition, spoken in her fine Texas accent, warmed him all the way through. He gave her an acknowledging nod, opened the door, and slipped outside into the growing heat.

  * * *

  Kendrick knew it wasn’t a Shifter. Shifter scent was distinctive to another Shifter, no matter what form he or she was in.

  That left human, Fae, animal, and other.

  Humans were harder for Kendrick to distinguish but he was familiar enough with them to know it wasn’t human. Fae could be tricky, so he’d hold that idea in reserve. Animal—no.

  That left other.

  The host of supernatural creatures that populated fiction mostly weren’t real. Vampires existed, but they weren’t the Boris Karloff type or the modern take of Anne Rice, Buffy, True Blood, or the host of popular novels that had poured out to be eagerly devoured by Jaycee, one of his trackers. Real vampires were creations from an ancient time, who’d survived by being extremely elusive. They didn’t form communities, like Shifters, and kept their lineage a deep secret. In fact, Kendrick wouldn’t be surprised if they’d died out over the centuries.

  The other supernatural creatures that were real kept to realms like Faerie, a place where they were considered more or less normal. Everything else—ghosts, demons, and other hellish types— didn’t exist.

  So what was it?

  One thing Shifters were good at, Felines in particular, was waiting. Kendrick slid into the shadows and did so.

  He could hear Addison inside the house chatting to their host, making him laugh. The cubs cheered when breakfast landed on their plates, Addison’s voice joining them.

  Like a real family. A real life.

  That was all Kendrick wanted, why he’d fled the humans who were passing out Collars twenty-odd years ago. The dream he’d had—was it a warning that he’d never have a real life? Or had it been a simple manifestation of his needs and fears? Just his brain blowing off steam?

  Kendrick didn’t deny to himself that making love to Addison would be deeply satisfying. Dream Addison had also been right that he had been resisting living his life. Taking care of his Shifters had always been his first priority, having a life of his own second. His mate, Eileen, had known this and Kendrick had always considered that he’d failed her because of it. Would he fail Addison too? And his cubs?

  These thoughts poured through his head as Kendrick waited but they didn’t interfere with his watching. He’d had a hundred years of experience at seeing without being noticed.

  Then a man walked out of nowhere, up to the back porch, and knocked on the door.

  Kendrick swarmed up the porch steps, grabbed the man by the neck, and pulled him back down.

  With surprising strength, the man wrenched himself out of Kendrick’s grasp and swung to face him. He had buzzed short black hair and dark brown eyes, looked Native American, and had a broad, hard-muscled body, like a Shifter, but lacked Shifter height. He was tattooed on his neck, arms, and hands but not all over as Dylan’s tracker Spike was.

  “Before you go all Shifter on my ass,” the man said. “Dylan sent me. And before you panic, he doesn’t know exactly where I am.”

  “Good,” Kendrick growled, “then when I break your neck, only the coyotes will find your bones.”

  The man raised his hands. “It might be your bones, so don’t mess with me. I’m trying to say that Dylan might ask me to do something for him but that doesn’t mean I work for him.”

  “What does it mean then?” Kendrick asked in a hard voice.

  “It means I like to find things out for myself. What are you doing out here?”

  “What are you?” Kendrick countered. “Who are you?”

  “You can call me Gil if you want. Dylan’s looking high and low for you, but I like to assess a sitch for myself before I decide what to do.”

  * * *

  Addie watched out the window while Kendrick faced the unknown man. She remained poised, ready to grab the kids and hide them—maybe in Charlie’s cellar with the icebox—until Kendrick finished with the intruder.

  The man wasn’t very tall, only reaching Kendrick’s shoulders, but he was bulky with muscle. The tatts on his neck and the ones cupping his elbows were the kind men gave each other in prison, at least as far as Addie knew. One of Bo’s dishwashers had been in prison a while and he’d explained what his tatts meant to Addie one slow night.

  The tension between the two men crackled. Addie held on to the lip of the sink and watched.

  Kendrick’s hand flashed out and gripped the man by the neck again. The man did nothing this time, didn’t fight. Kendrick marched him up the steps and into the house.

  “Another for breakfast?” Charlie asked without surprise.

  “Yeah,” the man Kendrick had captured said. “Eggs over easy if it’s not too much trouble. Lay off, Kendrick, I’m only being hospitable.”

  “Do you know him?” Addie asked Kendrick, her eyes widening.

  “No,” Kendrick said sharply.

  The man turned to Addie and looked her up and down with appreciation. “Hello, pretty lady. I’m Ben.”

  Kendrick didn’t release him but steered him to a chair he pulled well away from the table and his cubs. “You said your name was Gil.”

  “It’s Gilbenarteoighiamh, but I’m not sadistic enough to make people say that. Pick a syllable, I’m fine with it.” He sat down before Kendrick could push him down and winked at the cubs.

  The three boys stared at him, openmouthed. Addie noticed that they kept quiet, cautious, unlike other children who might relax under Ben’s friendly wink and smile. The cubs had been almost gregarious with Charlie, but in Charlie they recognized harmlessness, while this man could mean danger.

  “Coffee?” Addie offered. She picked up the pot, which she could also use a weapon. Scalding liquid could be distracting.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Ben answered. “Dylan is not happy with you, my friend,” he said to Kendrick.

  Kendrick remained in place behind Ben’s chair. Addie plucked a coffee mug from the cupboard and carried it and the pot to the table.

  She poured a cup for the stranger then stepped back, clutching the pot. “You have it tattooed on your fingers.” She gestured to Ben’s hands he’d wrapped around the cup. Letters on the first three fingers on the right hand spelled out Ben; on the left, Gil. “So you won’t forget?”

  Ben rumbled with laughter. “Exactly. I like her, Kendrick. She’s funny. Where did you find her?”

  Kendrick only scowled. “If you work for Dylan, why don’t I know you? He’s had me running errands for him for six months.”

  Ben shrugged. “Dylan has fingers in many pies. You’d be surprised at the number of people he controls. He compartmentalizes. We don’t always know about each other. He says he’s worried about you and asked me to find you.”

  “He’s worried he’ll lose control of me,” Kendrick said.

  Ben gave another shrug. “You aren’t wrong. He doesn’t control me, and he knows it, but he thought I had the best shot at running you down. I wouldn’t have found you at all if you hadn’t gone back for her, but hey, I don’t blame you.” He pointed at Addie then raised his cup to
his lips.

  Addie set the heavy pot back on the coffeemaker. “All right, let’s be clear about everything. Who is Dylan, who are you, and Kendrick, why is he trying to find you? Does this Dylan have anything to do with the shootout at my diner?”

  Charlie broke in, surprised. “Were y’all involved in that? I heard on the radio about a shooting up in Loneview. One reason I don’t live in a big city. They were shooting at you? I’m glad you’re all okay.”

  Ben fixed Kendrick with a hard stare. “This is news to me. Who shot at you?”

  “Some of my own. Long story.”

  “Story I’m going to need to hear.” Ben gripped his coffee cup as though prepared to settle in for a tale on a long winter’s night.

  “Not until I know whose side you’re on.”

  “My own side.” Ben glanced at Addie. “Hers, actually. She’s prettier than you. And the cubs. I’m as protective of kids as Shifters are. More, probably.”

  Addie widened her eyes at Ben. “We weren’t going to use the S word,” she said in a frantic half whisper. She’d told the cubs not to mention Shifters in front of Charlie.

  “Oh,” Ben said. Charlie was cooking at the stove, back moving as he flipped eggs. “I thought you’d found refuge with a friend or would have won over his loyalty by now.”

  “Stealth,” Addie said, leaning to him. “That’s what we were going for.”

  “Stealth is an S word,” Ben pointed out. “I can make it so he doesn’t remember, or has a compulsion not to talk about you, or something.”

  Charlie turned around and marched over to the table with the frying pan and spatula, an irritated look in place. “I don’t know who you people are, but you can trust me to keep your secrets. I respect the privacy of my guests—that’s why all those celebrities were happy to stay here. So say what you like. It’s not like I’m not burning with curiosity.”

  So speaking, he slapped eggs, perfectly cooked, to the plate in front of Ben. He slammed a couple pieces of bacon beside the eggs and stalked back to the stove.

  “There you go.” Ben made an expansive gesture with his coffee cup. “Tell us everything, Kendrick.”

  “How about this instead?” Kendrick said tightly. “If you’re working for Dylan, go back and tell him I’ll stay out of his territory if he stays out of mine. I’m done working for him, and he can keep up his end of the bargain. And tell him to send my trackers to me. The ones he has—Seamus and Francesca. The others if he’s caught them too.”

  Ben’s brows climbed. “Seriously? Me give orders to Dylan, the biggest badass in South Texas? In the world maybe?”

  “I’ve done what he asked. He knows that.”

  “I haven’t hung out in the Austin and San Antonio Shiftertowns very long,” Ben said. “But I know that Seamus has shacked up with a human woman. Lives in her house somewhere south of Austin. Francesca, the Lupine, is living in the Austin Shiftertown with a bunch of bears, taking care of a cub. I haven’t heard about any others that were yours.”

  Kendrick had already known about Francesca, a bear Shifter, and Seamus McGuire, a lion, even if he hadn’t been in contact with them. Dylan had told him their story. Kendrick worried, though, about Dimitri and Jaycee—he hadn’t heard a thing from them since the compound was destroyed.

  “Find out about the others,” Kendrick said. “And send word to me.”

  “So, what, now I’m your errand boy?” Ben thumped down his coffee. “What makes you think I’ll do all that?”

  Kendrick leaned to the table, resting his fists on it and looking into Ben’s face. His black T-shirt stretched over his large biceps as his muscles tightened.

  “Because you tried to come into this house where my cubs were,” Kendrick said carefully. “I’m being polite not killing you.”

  Ben looked hurt. “I told you, I’d never hurt the cubs.”

  Addie broke in. “You have prison tatts.”

  “You mean these?” He rubbed his hand over the Celtic-looking symbols on his inner arm and the spiderweb on his elbow. “I got these so I’d blend in where I lived. You’d be surprised how much people leave me alone when they see them.”

  “Goodness,” Addie blinked. “Where on earth do you live?”

  “Around. But trust me, I’m a big sweetie. Your cubs are safe with me.”

  Kendrick didn’t look convinced. “Finish your breakfast and go.” He rose from the table and moved to stand a little behind Ben, like a sentry.

  “Or what?” Ben asked, picking up his fork.

  “I’ll stop being polite.” Kendrick folded his arms and waited.

  “Right, right.” Ben tore apart his eggs, the yolks spreading bright gold across the plate. “Errand boy.”

  Kendrick didn’t move. He could do that—go absolutely still, his green eyes fixed, watching. When he was like that, Addie could see the cat in him, the tiger that could kill with one swipe of his huge paw.

  Kendrick the man, on the other hand, was delectable. His arms bulged against the shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest. His hair was messy from sleep, the white and black tangled together, and bristles covered his jaw, but he didn’t look bedraggled. He looked like he’d just risen from bed, warm and tousled, and lucky was the woman who got to see him first thing in the morning.

  Addie hoped no one else noticed her devouring him with her gaze, but Ben concentrated on his breakfast, the man effusive in his praise to Charlie. He took his time, enjoying it, then rose, held out his fists to bump with the cubs’, who’d softened to him a bit. Ben gave Addie another once-over, winked at her, and walked out, Kendrick close behind him.

  Addie followed them, standing on the back porch as Kendrick ushered Ben down the steps. Ben had left a motorcycle parked close to Kendrick’s at the back of the house, and Kendrick walked him every step to it.

  Ben and Kendrick had more conversation as Ben checked his bike, but they were too far away for Addie to hear it, and they leaned in, voices low. Kendrick regarded Ben with a hard stare, while Ben gestured with his hands as he argued.

  It was clear who lost the debate. Kendrick’s body was tilted forward over Ben’s, an aggressive stance, while Ben was trying not to back down.

  Finally, Ben climbed aboard his bike, started it up, and drove it around the house to the dirt drive, a wake of dust climbing into the clear, blue sky.

  Kendrick turned around, regarding Addie on the porch without surprise, as though he’d known she’d followed to watch.

  “Kendrick,” Addie said. “We need to talk.” She stepped off the porch and marched toward the barn on the little rise behind the house, without waiting to see whether he’d follow.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Watching Addison walk up to the barn, her backside swaying in tight jeans, woke Kendrick’s hunger with a vengeance. Too long burning, too long alone. The non-satisfaction of the dream rose up and bit him.

  Addison was angry. Kendrick noted that with the same awareness that followed the noise of Ben’s motorcycle far into the distance.

  Addison slowed her pace as she entered the barn. Kendrick caught up to her, finding himself in a shadowy interior with a lofty roof, smelling of dust, hay, and horse.

  Only one horse stood in this vastness, in a stall that was one of a dozen. The horse hung its head over the partition when Addison approached and gave a heartfelt little whinny. It was lonely, just like the rest of them.

  “How are you, girl?” Addison halted in front of the stall and rubbed the horse’s nose. “It’s too hot for you to run in the corral right now. Later, I’ll ask Charlie to turn you out.”

  “How do you know it’s a she?” Kendrick asked, using the words to deflect his roiling desire. “Because your grandparents taught you about horses?”

  “Because Charlie told me.” Addison turned from the mare but kept her hand on its neck. “I’m not expert enough to tell the differ
ence by one glance—well, I mean except for the obvious way.” She patted the horse again. “Not what I came here to talk to you about.”

  Kendrick didn’t think she had.

  “You need to be straight with me.” Addison stepped away from the horse. She kept her voice low, trying not to startle the beast, but she stared straight into Kendrick’s eyes. Brooking no nonsense, her look said. “I know you didn’t want to say much in front of Charlie or your cubs, but we’re alone now. That Ben guy obviously found you here pretty easily. Who is this Dylan, and why was he looking for you?”

  “There’s a lot of Shifter business going on,” Kendrick said. “Dangerous business.”

  “I figured that. You’re a Shifter Guardian, whatever that means, who kept your friends from being put into Shiftertowns. I know you told me this—I’m trying to get it all straight. How does this guy Dylan figure into it?”

  Kendrick regarded her for a moment while putting in order what he’d tell her. He longed to protect her from all the shit in his life, but he also knew that ignorance might get Addison killed. Maybe that’s what the dream had meant.

  “Dylan Morrissey is father to the leader of the Austin Shiftertown,” Kendrick began. “Last year, he helped organize a raid on my compound—he thought we’d kidnapped a woman. When my Shifters scattered, Dylan found me. I thought he wanted to Collar me and force me into his Shiftertown, but instead, he recruited me to help him track down a band of Shifters who used to follow a feral Shifter in Mexico. Those Shifters are dangerous, most of them gone totally feral, and many are roaming free. He knew I could help him track them under the radar—humans don’t know about me. Dylan promised that if I helped him, he’d keep humans away from my Shifters forever. I couldn’t say no to that. But I soon realized I was under his thumb, and time was going by. I just told Ben to tell Dylan that I’m finished, I’m out. Time for Dylan to keep up his end of the deal.”

  Addison listened—what she thought, Kendrick couldn’t tell. He’d left out the days and nights of hunting along the border, standing by while Dylan meted out his brand of rough justice. Dylan had either dragged the Shifter back to a Shiftertown, fitting him with a Collar to calm him down, or killed the Shifter outright if they’d been too far feral. Kendrick was a Guardian—he was there to send the Shifter to dust.