White Tiger

Zander’s neck, no longer hidden by the duster, was bare. No Collar. “Do they know you were Shifter?” Addie asked him. “Your neighbors in Alaska?”

Zander shrugged. “A lot know, sure, but they say nothing. Those from the north like being left alone. Which is why they weren’t happy with the polar bear rampage. But hey, it wasn’t all my fault.”

Charlie emerged at this point with a first-aid box and rolls of bandages. He hadn’t brought any whiskey, but Zander didn’t comment.

“He needs to be held very still,” Zander said. “Big guy, you’d be good.” He beckoned to Tiger. “This tiger threw me around like a rag doll when I . . . protested him interrupting my solitude.”

“Turned bear and attacked me,” Tiger clarified.

Tiger came up on the porch, his movements lithe despite his size. He sank down and held Ben’s shoulders. Kendrick positioned himself to hold Ben’s legs and feet.

“Kicked my ass is what he did,” Zander said as he laid towels around the wound. “Embarrassing. Polar bear Shifters are the biggest predators alive, and I let a tiger kick my butt.”

Addie knelt on Ben’s right side, while Zander busied himself on his left. “Tiger’s a special case,” she said. “That’s why we like him.”

“I see how it is,” Zander said, sending her a grin. “You have a thing for tigers. Maybe I’ll get you to appreciate the greatness of bears. Now, let me do this.”

Zander placed both hands around the knife, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. His body stilled, his braids ceased swinging and hung silently beside his face. He seemed to stop breathing altogether.

Then he made a long inhalation, air grating through his throat. The next sound that came out of his mouth was a long, low note, so low it was mere vibration.

The sound hummed for a very long time, longer than Addie would think any person could let out breath. Then Zander began to chant words in the same low, pulsing note. Addie didn’t understand the language he spoke, but she saw Kendrick bow his head, his lips moving in time with Zander’s words.

Zander continued to chant, the sounds coming out in even syllables, the rumble of them vibrating the porch. Tiger didn’t follow along as Kendrick did, he only stared at Zander as though he’d never heard the language before either.

Zander kept chanting, his body immobile, for a very long time. As he half spoke, half sang, the sky brightened, as though his words were pulling up the sun.

Addie wasn’t certain, but Ben seemed to breathe more easily. He lay quietly, his eyes open and glittering, as Zander sat like a statue with sound pouring from his throat.

“He’s c-calling the Goddess.” A whispered voice in Addie’s ear made her jump. When she came back to earth, she recognized Dimitri standing behind her in the near-light. “The h-healer of all things.”

Zander didn’t cease or even note the interruption. He slowly brought his hands together, until they met on the hilt of the knife.

Even more slowly he began to draw the knife out, a millimeter at a time. It took so long for the blade to rise from the wound that it seemed not to move at all. But at last, the tip appeared, dripping with blood.

Instantly, Zander dropped the knife, grabbed one of the towels, and pressed it to the wound. “Hold it there,” he said to Addie. “Hard.”

The change from Zander motionless to abrupt action made Addie react in the same way. She darted forward and pressed down on the square of towel. Ben grunted in pain but lay still.

Zander went back to chanting, but this time louder, the syllables more erratic. Kendrick stopped following along, as though these were words he didn’t know. All the while Zander ran his hands over Ben’s chest and the towel Addie held.