Tiger Magic

No response. Carly touched the corner of his mouth again, marveling that the unburned part of his lips could be warm and soft despite his terrible hurts. “Mate of my heart,” she whispered.

She lay down beside him again, pulling a sheet over herself, careful not to let the fabric touch him. Carly didn’t think she’d sleep, but her exhaustion and worry caught up to her, and she drifted off.

* * *

Crosby slid in through the open window, landed noiselessly on the floor, and had his target in visual. These bungalows were too easy to break into, windows in the upper floors in reach from the porch roofs, handholds galore. Scouting this house the last time had made this entry even easier.

Without changing position, Crosby eased his gun out of its holster.

The woman was on the bed with the Shifter, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the target. Crosby would finish this mission, return to camp, report in, and either sleep or carry on with his next assignment.

He crept to the bed, quietly eased a pillow from the foot of it to use as a silencer, put the pillow over Tiger’s chest, and started to squeeze the trigger.

His wristbone shattered as a hugely strong hand closed around it, the gun twisting away to shoot the wall. The pillow fell and the gun went off loudly.

The woman, Carly, screamed and shot out of bed. What held Crosby’s wrist was the tiger, half-burned, looking more like a corpse than a human. One of his eyes was white and unseeing, the other yellow with rage.

The tiger Shifter spoke, his voice raw and broken. “Don’t. Hurt. My mate.”

Crosby tried to jerk away, and agony shocked through him. He couldn’t draw breath to explain that no, he wasn’t here to hurt the woman. Only the tiger.

The door slammed open, nearly tearing off its hinges, and the Shifter called Liam came in. Crosby remembered what Liam had said about catching Crosby in Shiftertown again, and he felt fear. Crosby never felt fear. This was new.

“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 ass**le, 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.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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.