Jennifer Ashley - Tiger Magic

“Tiger,” the woman was saying, but not in alarm. In surprise, probably because the half-dead tiger was still alive.

Liam closed his hand around the back of Crosby’s neck. Crosby still held his Glock, but he couldn’t turn it or fire it, because his fingers didn’t work.

Liam twisted the gun from Crosby’s inert hand. “Tiger, let him go. I’ll take care of this.”

“Who the hell is he?” Carly shouted at Liam. “How did he get in?”

Crosby felt disgust. If any woman had snapped a demand like that at Crosby, he’d backhand her. Shifters really should control their women better.

“He’s more determined than I thought,” Liam said grimly. “Tiger, I said let him go. You need to save your strength.”

The tiger’s fury didn’t abate, but he opened his hand and released Crosby’s wrist. Without the clamp of the tiger’s fingers, Crosby’s wrist went slack, and the broken bones shot white-hot pain through him.

“You’re awake,” Carly said to the tiger, joy in her voice. “Moving. Stronger.”

Tiger looked at her, then the light of rage left his eyes, and he fell back to the bed. “The touch of a mate,” he said, then his eyes closed.

Carly shot Crosby a look of fury. “Bastard. If you’ve made him worse . . .”

Stupid bitch . “My orders are to kill him,” Crosby said. “He’s dying anyway.”

“Then why try to kill him?” Carly snapped.

“A good question,” Liam said, his grip strengthening on Crosby’s neck. “Do you know the answer?”

Crosby did, because the LTC had told him. “We have enough DNA samples. The tiger Shifter is useless now. He needs to die and be taken back to camp for cremation. He can’t be allowed to fall into enemy hands.” No reason to keep it a secret. The LTC hadn’t said the info was classified.

Liam shook him a little. “And by enemy hands, you mean . . . ?”

“Anyone not Lieutenant Colonel Sheldon,” said a new voice. Captain Walker Danielson, the insubordinate, disrespectful asshole, entered the room. Not that Crosby would ever call anyone of senior rank that out loud.

“Anyone who might get the glory for learning what Tiger is and what he can do,” the captain continued.

“No, sir,” Crosby said crisply. “Enemy intelligence. Enemy armies. Enemy governments.”

“Them too,” the captain answered in the tone that always sounded like he was making fun of Crosby. Crosby hated that.

“The tiger can’t fall into hostile hands,” Crosby repeated.

“That’s why I’m here,” Walker said. “Dismissed, Sergeant.”

“Respectfully, sir, my orders are from the LTC. Above your head, sir.”

Walker shrugged and addressed Liam. “It’s your house. Escort him out. I don’t want to know what you do.”

“Aye, and I wasn’t going to tell you.” Liam turned Crosby and marched him out the door, the hand around Crosby’s neck immovable.

Liam took Crosby down the stairs, out of the house, and along the yards behind the Shifters’ houses. No other Shifters were in sight, windows and doors closed up tight.

Liam walked Crosby to a stand of trees that formed a sort of ring. A mist floated there, and only there, but Crosby was interested solely in the pain in his wrist and in planning how to get away from Liam to complete his mission. He couldn’t return to Sheldon to confess a failure.

A second Shifter creature emerged, walking through the mists. Dylan, Liam’s father. Dylan was more problematic. He was older and more experienced than his son, and his eyes told Crosby he’d do what it took to stop him.

“I told you before, son,” Dylan said to Liam. “You can’t kill him. You have too many others depending on you.”

“I know.” Liam squeezed Crosby’s neck, fingers biting down with terrible strength. “But maybe we can make an exception this once?”

“No.”

More pressure on Crosby’s neck. At any moment, a vertebra would burst. “You know that this asshole started the fire.”

Dylan gave Liam a nod. “Yes.”

“Then you know why I need to kill the gobshite.” Liam’s voice was low, not carrying, but fierce, bearing a note of rage Crosby hadn’t heard from him before.

Dylan turned his gaze to Crosby. “What was your purpose?”

Liam snarled. “Does it matter?”

“I want to know.” Dylan fixed Crosby with a steady stare, his eyes as cold as icebergs. “Speak.”

Crosby shrugged the best he could. “I was told to smoke out the tiger Shifter. My commander suspected he was hanging around the area. He said if we put his woman in danger, he’d come.” Crosby felt a bit smug. “He was right.”

“But there were cubs in the community center,” Dylan said in his chill voice. “Children. Babies.”

“Not children,” Crosby corrected him. Crosby would never hurt a kid, or a female, unless they deserved it. “They were only Shifter get, the woman a Shifter whore.”

One of Crosby’s vertebrae crackled this time. “You’re dying for that,” Liam said. “Sorry, Dad.”

“No.” Dylan’s word was quiet but rang with authority.

Father and son studied each other for a long time. Finally Liam sighed and released Crosby’s neck. Crosby’s knees buckled, but he was pulled upright by the equally strong hand of Dylan.

“All right.” Liam looked at his father again, then without further word, he turned his back and walked away.

Mists from the trees swirled around Crosby and Dylan, cutting off Liam, cutting off Shiftertown.

“You won’t die for what you just said,” Dylan said in a mild tone. “Not for ignorant words.”

Crosby started to relax. If Dylan was adamant about keeping him alive, then Crosby might be able to get away, get back into the house, and somehow kill the tiger, and then worry about escaping. The mission came first.

Dylan’s hand clamped down on Crosby’s neck, harder than Liam’s had. Dylan’s mouth came close to Crosby’s ear. “You’ll die for nearly killing our cubs. For that, may the Goddess help you.” He turned his head and stared straight into the mists. “Fionn!”

The mists thickened, and a slit of light about ten feet high snapped open. A tall man, with limbs so long they looked as though they’d been stretched, appeared in the opening. The man was dressed like an old-fashioned warrior, with long white braids, chain mail, leather, and furs.

“Come,” he said.

Dylan shoved Crosby through the slit and followed.

The air became clammy and damp, and also brighter, as though the sun had suddenly risen. The ground was spongy underfoot, no more Texas dryness.

Crosby knew he was in a different place, more like the jungles of Central America, but cold. What the fuck? The slit in the air disappeared. No way back, no more Austin, no more Shiftertown.

Dylan spun Crosby to face him. Dylan’s eyes had gone white, the hand holding Crosby changing to the paws of a huge cat.

“I’m trying to teach my son mercy and restraint,” Dylan said to Crosby, his voice guttural. “Because I don’t have any myself.”

“There’s no law against vengeance here,” the tall man said in a tone of satisfaction. “In fact, it’s required.”

“For the cubs,” Dylan said, and finally Crosby thought to give in to his fear.

He beheld the nightmare that was the truth of Dylan, and that was the last thing he ever saw.

Tiger didn’t move again or speak for the rest of the night. Carly slept fitfully, even after reassurances that Crosby had been dealt with. Having a gun go off next to her when she’d been sound asleep had not been a happy experience.

Morning light streamed through the windows, touching Tiger’s face with gentle fingers. The air was cooler now as August waned toward September. The pressing heat of summer had broken.