Shifters Unbound [5] Tiger Magic (22 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ashley

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BOOK: Shifters Unbound [5] Tiger Magic
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Tiger unlaced his hand and pressed it between Carly’s breasts. “You feel the mate bond. It’s strong between us.”

His hand was warm, her heart beating faster beneath it. “I don’t know what a mate bond is. Or a mate-claim, or what the sun and moon have to do with any of it. I only know that my world turned upside down when I met you. And I’m glad it did.”

Tiger stroked between her breasts with light fingertips, then drew them out, as though following patterns in the air only he could see.

“I’m glad we did it on the counter,” she said. “Kind of exorcized it.”

Tiger’s brows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“You know, because that’s where I caught Ethan.” Ethan seemed insignificant and far away now. “But from now on when I think about doing it on a kitchen counter, I’ll remember how amazing it was with you.”

“Good.” Tiger’s voice held a hint of a growl. “You should only think of me.”

“Conceited.” Carly smiled as she leaned down and kissed his lips. Tiger’s return kiss was gentle but tinged with heat.

He was getting better at kissing, learning to use lips and tongue to draw out sensual pleasure. Tiger hadn’t liked to stop kissing her, even to shed the rest of his clothes before carrying her up here.

More kissing as they entered the bedroom, and Tiger laid her down and climbed back inside her. He’d loved her again until she thought she’d pass out from the intensity of it, and even now, he didn’t look tired.

Carly loved it, but she’d also known, when he’d looked down into her eyes, that he was saying good-bye.

Carly looked down at him now and touched his cheek. “Don’t leave without me,” she said softly. “I just found you, Tiger. I’m not ready to let you go.”

He took on his stubborn look. “It’s safer if you stay.”

“Screw safer.” Carly sat up, her hair tumbling forward. “I told you, I chased safety because I thought it would make up for what my dad did to us. But it doesn’t. It just means your life goes nowhere. And anyway, I don’t believe anymore that there’s any such thing as safety. I fooled myself into believing it, that’s all.”

He looked at her as though not paying attention to a word she said. “I can move faster without you.”

“That’s probably true. But you don’t know where to go, or how to live as a human. You’ll give yourself away as soon as you try to buy food or find a car or a place to sleep. And if anyone sees you change into a Tiger—
sheesh
. Every hunter will be after you with a shotgun. Sure, you can throw bullets out of your body, but I bet
too
many blasts, and you’re dead.”

“Cutting off my head would probably work too,” Tiger said, face straight.

“It’s not funny. You need me, and you know it.”

Tiger again moved his fingertips through the air, his eyes on what he touched, whatever it was. “I need to protect you. I didn’t protect my mate before, or my cub.”

“From what you’ve told me, you didn’t have a chance. The researchers locked you away from them and wouldn’t let you see them. Well,
I
don’t want to be kept away from you.”

Tiger’s face went hard. “You have so much here. Your family. All that will be gone if you run away with me.”

“I understand the risks,” Carly said angrily.

“I think you don’t.”

Carly’s retort cut off as she heard the noise of a car below, then the slamming of doors.

Tiger was off the bed in a single second, moving to the window without a sound. He kept to the shadows, looking out.

“It is not the soldiers for the Bureau,” he said in a low voice. “Or Shifters.”

Carly heard voices now, shrill and laughing, and her heart sank. “Shit, what are they doing home already? They’re supposed to be gone until next week. And, crap, we left our clothes downstairs.”

She scrambled off the bed, throwing open the closet to grab for the spare T-shirts and jeans she left here. Tiger was out of luck though.

“Stay here,” Carly said to him. “I’ll talk my way out of this somehow. We can sneak you downstairs and out later.”

Tiger remained by the window, hidden to all below. Carly thought he looked wistful somehow, as he watched her sisters as they jabbered in their shrill voices, their mother answering as loudly.

Carly hurried down the stairs in her bare feet. The staircase spilled out into the wide foyer that was open to the kitchen. She hit the bottom step, ready to dash in and grab all the clothes, when her sisters and mother walked in through the back door, hands full of boxes, bags, clothes on hangers.

“Carly?” Althea, her oldest sister, said in surprise. “I hope that’s not
your
piece-of-crap car in the garage. I almost slammed into it.”

“Never mind about the car,” Zoë, the second oldest, said. She grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter and used it to lift the red boxers covered with black hearts from the kitchen floor. “Whose are
these
? Carly, you bad,
bad
girl.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“P
ut those down. It’s not what you think.”

“No?” Zoë raised her brows at Carly over the underwear. “I think it’s a pair of men’s sexy underwear on our kitchen floor. Or were you playing dress-up? And you didn’t invite us?”

The Randal next youngest to Carly, Janine Randal-Johnson, respectably married with a kid, said, “Those don’t look like something Ethan would wear.”

Carly put her hands on her hips. “And you’d know all about Ethan’s underwear how?”

“Janine’s right,” Zoë said. “These don’t look like the boulder holders of a man who wears suits in a hundred degree weather and knows every chichi restaurant in Austin. So who is he, Carly? And
where
is he? Upstairs?”

Zoë started for the stairs, carrying the underwear like a banner. Carly stepped in front of her, grabbed the underwear, and blocked Zoë’s way up. “No!”

“So, not Ethan,” Althea said. “Carly, good for
you
.”

“Oh, Carly,” Janine said, sounding sad. She alone of Carly’s sisters had thought Ethan a good catch.

“Would you pipe down?” Carly said. “No, it’s not Ethan. Ethan and I . . . broke up.”

Such a tame term for the volatile events of the last few days.

“Carly, why didn’t you call me?” Carly’s mother, Rosalie, went around Zoë and pulled Carly into a hug. “Did you have an argument? Honey, you can tell us.”

“She doesn’t have to tell us anything.” Zoë moved back to the kitchen, where she and Althea shared a double high five. “Ding-dong, the bitch is dead. By the bitch, I mean Ethan.”

“Zoë,” Rosalie said sternly. “This isn’t funny. Carly’s broken up with the man she was going to marry. She obviously met someone on the rebound. You need to talk to us, sweetie.”

“Couldn’t you have worked it out?” Janine asked. “I mean, Ethan’s filthy rich. Make him buy you a car or something. Better than that hunk of junk—please don’t tell me that’s the new boyfriend’s car.”

“Ew,” Althea said. “What did you do, pick up a guy at a pool hall? Please tell me you made him bathe. And that he didn’t use my good bath towels.”

“Will you all please shut up!” Carly yelled. She backed up, holding Tiger’s underwear close, one hand up, stiff, to stave them off. “I caught Ethan screwing another woman, and I threw the engagement ring at him. End of story.”

They stared at her, openmouthed, Zoë’s and Althea’s expressions changing from glee to stark surprise. Carly realized after a few heartbeats that they weren’t staring at her, they were staring past her, up the stairs, at someone else.

She swung around and saw him a few steps behind her, one of Althea’s precious towels tucked around his waist, the towel barely large enough to fit around him.

Moments stretched while Tiger stared down at them, and Carly’s sisters and mother stared up at Tiger.

“Okay,” Janine said after a beat of silence. “I’ll admit it. You traded up.”

* * *

H
ow it happened that Tiger ended up dressed again and seated in the middle of the couch in the family room, Althea and Zoë on either side of him, Carly couldn’t remember. The time seemed to buzz by her like a fly against glass.

Althea and Zoë each held a large balloonlike glass of red wine, and her mother had poured herself and Carly each one as Rosalie cleaned up the kitchen and started prepping for dinner. Janine sat at the kitchen table looking on, but she wanted only bottled water after the long trip.

They’d returned from shopping early, Carly’s mother said, because they’d run out of money. That was just like Carly’s sisters. While Carly and Janine had both reacted to their father’s desertion by wanting to be careful, Althea and Zoë had compensated by living as largely as possible—traveling, shopping, being expansive and generous. They’d been older, though, when their father had gone, already planning their decorating business together as soon as they finished their fine arts degrees. Life had been good to them business-wise, enabling them to buy this big house and go on shopping sprees whenever they wanted.

In love, though, they’d not been as lucky. Althea had gotten married during college and divorced two years later, saying she didn’t want a husband who expected her to give up her dreams so she could wait on him hand and foot. Zoë had run through a series of boyfriends, none of whom had lasted long. Janine had, happily, married the sweetest guy—Simon—and now had a son who’d inherited his father’s sunny disposition.

Without exception, the sisters were interested in Tiger. He held a beer between his big hands, quietly watching, but not looking unhappy, as Althea and Zoë plied him with questions.

“So, where you from? Not Texas, I take it.”

“Nevada,” Tiger answered.

“What part?”

“Around Las Vegas.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun. How about a road trip there, Carly?”

“You just got home,” Carly said to Althea. “And give him a break.”

Zoë took up the gauntlet on his other side. “So, how did you and Carly meet?”

“Carly gave me a ride,” Tiger said.

“Then she really did pick you up.” Zoë laughed. “Great dye job on your hair, by the way. I might try it. What do you do for a living?”

Tiger contemplated a moment, then answered, “I fix cars.”

Carly let out her pent-up breath. He was telling the truth but in a way they wouldn’t question it.

“You didn’t do such a hot job on the one in the garage,” Zoë said.

“That’s not mine. We borrowed it.”

Althea looked at him in confusion. “Then where’s your car, Carly? If you picked him up?”

“I didn’t pick him up
today
,” Carly said. “My car got wrecked.”

“What?” All four Randal women shrieked, but not in synch. They demanded to know what happened, and Carly had to wait until they quieted before she gave them a truncated version of events, including Tiger being there when she’d caught Ethan. She told them that Tiger’s name was Bram, the first name that popped into her head for some reason.

Carly ended by saying she’d brought Tiger here today, where she thought they’d have a little peace and quiet. Her pointed look was met with oblivious stares.

“What a romantic story,” Zoë said, sighing happily. “A chance meeting, Ethan being a bastard, this guy scaring the crap out of Ethan.”

Tiger didn’t answer her, because he was looking over at Janine. “You have a little one.”

Janine brightened, as she did whenever someone mentioned her son. “Did Carly tell you? Yes, a little boy. He’s almost two.”

“I mean you have another little one.” Tiger pointed at her abdomen. “Soon.”

Another chorus of
What?
rang around the kitchen, and this one Carly joined. Janine blushed as red as Althea’s wine.

“How did you know?” Janine asked, stammering a little. “I’m about two months. I was going to tell y’all—I got the message when we were driving, but I wanted to wait until we were with Simon.”

Althea and Zoë abandoned Tiger to surround Janine with hugs, kisses, and exclamations of delight. Carly’s mom left the sink, gave Carly a quick hug on the way, and went to Janine.

“Congratulations, Janine,” Carly said, warming all over. Another addition to the family, another niece or nephew to cuddle. Janine deserved the happiness.

Carly saw Tiger watching her. She knew what was going on in his head—if she ran with him, she’d have to leave her sisters and Janine’s new baby. She’d likely never get to see the newest Randal-Johnson.

The lump in her throat was hard. Carly lifted her untouched glass of wine to her lips, tears stinging her eyes.

“Carly is also having a little one,” Tiger said.

Althea’s and Zoë’s voices shut off with a snap. All eyes turned now to Carly.

“Oh my God,” Althea said. “Ethan’s? What a mess. I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” Carly said, her body numb. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Tiger rose from the couch and walked to Carly, putting his hands on the kitchen counter and looking over it to her. “The babe is mine. But it’s there. Only a day old.”

Carly tried to answer, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Tiger seemed to know things he couldn’t possibly, so she didn’t scoff at him, tell him he was wrong, that it was too soon to know.

She looked at the wineglass she’d raised and quickly set it down.

“If that’s true, you’d better get off birth control right away,” Janine said. “It could damage the baby, and you.”

“I’m not . . .” Carly stopped. She and Tiger had been having wild and wicked sex, making love more often in the last two days than she had with Ethan collectively over two years.

Shifter sperm, especially Tiger’s, was probably stronger than a human’s. Even if her birth control was meant to keep eggs from falling where they could be fertilized, she wouldn’t be surprised if one of Tiger’s sperm had found one and dragged it out of hiding.

The girls had gone back to talking to Janine, perhaps thinking Tiger was joking. Carly knew he wasn’t. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, and Tiger reached out and brushed one away.

* * *

A
t five
A.M.
, Tiger had silently slid open the window of the guest room, preparing to climb out, when he heard Carly’s whisper, felt her touch.

“No.”

“I’m going.” Tiger’s answering whisper held a hint of growl.

“And I’m coming with you.”

Carly.
Tiger briefly closed his eyes. If he left her behind, she and his cub would be safe. Liam would protect the cub—Tiger trusted him for that at least.

And if he left Carly behind, Tiger might never see his cub. A fist around his heart tightened.

He remembered the glimpse he’d had of his son—a tiny mite wrapped in a blanket, with a thin down of black hair on his head, touched with the faintest brush of orange. The surge of pride and love Tiger had felt had never been equaled, nor had the surge of grief when they’d told him the cub hadn’t survived.

That Carly was pregnant, he had no doubt. He saw the glow inside her. A Shifter cub, not a full-blood human, not the offspring of the dickhead Ethan. The cub was Tiger’s.

“I’m coming with you,” Carly said stubbornly. “I have money, you don’t. I know how to travel and live in the world. You don’t.”

“I will run as a tiger, hunt.”

“Oh, sure, because no one will notice a Bengal running through the Texas flatlands. You have transportation? I don’t call that thing in the garage transportation.”

“Walker is waiting for me.”

Carly seized his arm. “Wait. What? You can trust him? How do you know he’s waiting?”

“We arranged it while you were sleeping.”

“That’s it. I’m definitely coming. I even packed.” She reached into the shadows beside the bed and pulled up a shoulder bag to go with her purse. “Let’s go meet Walker.”

Tiger stopped arguing—this was taking too much time. He would let Carly come with him until he could convince her to go back home.
Play it by ear,
he’d heard Connor say. How anyone could play an instrument with their ears, Tiger didn’t understand, but Connor had explained that the saying meant
decide as we go along.
Tiger was good at doing that.

Carly smiled her triumph when Tiger nodded, closed the window, and gestured for her to follow him out of the room and downstairs. Janine and Carly’s mother had gone home long ago, and Althea and Zoë were fast asleep in their respective rooms—Tiger could hear their quiet breathing behind the doors.

The house was dark except for a night-light in the kitchen. Althea hadn’t set the alarm so they could open windows to the softer air of the night, and now the door opened and closed without a sound.

Slinging Carly’s bag over his shoulder and taking her hand, Tiger led her down the walk to the street, keeping to the shadows of trees and shrubs. The night was pleasantly cool, the humid highs of the afternoon gone.

If Tiger hadn’t been planning to hide for the rest of his life, the walk would be pleasant. Carly’s warmth stretched to him from her hand, and the new life inside her called out to him.

Carly didn’t speak. She didn’t look back either, or cry. She was resilient, his mate.

At the bottom of the street and around the corner lay a twenty-four-hour convenience store. Tiger scanned the lot with its few cars, and the man who was crushing out a cigarette and walking inside. Tiger didn’t see Walker, but Walker, like Shifters, knew how to keep out of sight.

Tiger kept Carly in the shadows as he looked around, but he didn’t scent Walker. He smelled the musty smell of humans inside the store, the tang of exhaust as cars went by, the dregs of the man’s cigarette, and the sudden, sharp smell of fear.

Beside him, Carly gasped. “Oh my God, that guy’s robbing the store.”

Tiger looked to where she did, and saw the store clerk taking things out of the register with quick, jerky movements. The man who’d put out the cigarette was now holding up a long weapon.

Carly hissed in frustration. “And damn it, you crushed my cell phone.”

Tiger silently lowered the shoulder bag to the ground. “Stay here.”

“Tiger,”
Carly whispered frantically as Tiger pulled on the baseball cap over his hair and started across the small parking lot. She didn’t follow though. She was that sensible.

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