Shifters Unbound [5] Tiger Magic (21 page)

Tiger kept looking at her. Whatever he was thinking or feeling, Carly had no idea, but she saw the emptiness behind his eyes. Her heart ached from his story of torture and terror, for his life of knowing nothing but anger and fear.

She leaned down to kiss him. Carly intended the kiss to be gentle, to show him how much she cared, but as soon as their lips touched, Tiger slid his strong hand behind her neck, and the kiss turned fierce.

Carly surrendered to his strength, letting his arms take her weight, as he slanted his mouth over hers, exploring, tasting. She ran her fingertips over the line where the false Collar had been, the ridge of skin already smoothing.

Tiger’s hand went to the back of her dress, tugging at the zipper. The little cap sleeves that just covered Carly’s shoulders came down quickly, Tiger’s hands warming her skin, the dress loosening.

Carly tilted her head back while Tiger kissed her neck then traveled down her throat with little nips. He pressed his mouth below the hollow of her throat as the dress eased down to reveal her breasts.

Carly had put on a lace and satin bra this morning, ivory to match the sheath dress Yvette had given her. She’d wanted to be pretty today, all the way to her skin. Tiger made her feel beautiful. Carly, who considered herself all lips and eyes, with a little too much curve on the bottom and not enough on top.

Tiger fumbled at the catch of her bra, but Carly was happy to reach back and release it for him. Last night, they’d been so crazed to make love to each other that they hadn’t gone slowly, hadn’t savored.

Tiger savored her now. He pushed Carly’s body upward so he could lick between her breasts, then tilted his head back to kiss her mouth as she gazed down at him.

“You are beautiful,” he said. “My mate.”

When he said
mate,
a warmth grew in her heart until it almost hurt. At the same time the warmth brought a flush of happiness, the like of which Carly had never felt before.

Tiger smiled, which made his eyes heat. “Do you see it? The mate bond?”

He moved his fingers to her breastbone, directly over the warmth. When Carly looked at him in confusion, not knowing what he was talking about, his smile grew.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “
I
can see it. Like silver threads that bind us, my heart to yours.” He traced the air between them. “It’s like the threads on Sean’s sword, and in Andrea when she heals. But better. The Fae is wrong. This is magic.”

Carly still didn’t know what in the hell he was talking about, but if Tiger meant he felt about her the way Carly felt about him, fine.

She pressed her hand to his chest, liking how his heart beat strong and hard beneath her fingertips. “How do Shifters pledge themselves to each other?” she asked. “Humans say
’til death do us part
.”

Tiger growled. “I don’t want to talk about death. Shifters say
under sun and moon, I claim you as mate
. But we don’t need to say anything.”

“I want to. I like pledges. What is the Shifter woman supposed to say in return?”

“That she accepts the claim, under the Father God and Mother Goddess. But Shifters want the mate-claim to be witnessed.”

“I’ll witness it.” Carly smiled as she touched his face. “Tiger, I accept you as mate.”

Carly thought Tiger would growl again that they didn’t need to say anything—men were always embarrassed by rituals—but his smile spread.

“Yes,” he said, his look one of complete triumph. “
Yes.
My mate. My
mate.
”

Tiger dragged Carly up off the stool with him, kisses falling like fire on her neck, breasts, over her heart. He licked his way to her nipple, tasting it, pulling the tip into a point.

Carly ran her hand through his hair, loving the rough silk feel of it. The black locks were smoother than the orange, she observed distractedly. The rest of her focused on the fire of his mouth, the sharp tug of his teeth. Sweet goodness.

Tiger’s breath was hot on her skin, his own body temperature hotter than a human’s. He was a strange and exotic man, touching her so skillfully as he nuzzled and licked until she was crazy from it.

“Upstairs,” she murmured. “We should go upstairs.”

“Not yet.”

Tiger lifted her as he stood up, sitting her on the counter. He placed his hands on either side of her, closing her in, his mouth everywhere on her exposed skin.

Two days ago, Carly hadn’t wanted to go near kitchen counters or even think about what could be done on them. Today, she wrapped her legs around Tiger, pulling him to her.

She pushed his flannel shirt from his shoulders—how he could stand wearing flannel in this heat, she didn’t know, but he was Tiger. The T-shirt next. Carly enjoyed herself pushing it upward over his tight torso, until he tore it off over his head in impatience.

He had a fine body. Firm, muscled, tanned, like liquid bronze over a sculpture of perfect proportions. Carly ran her hands over him, seeing that the bullet scars had lessened further in the course of the day. Soon his skin would be whole and tight again.

Unless the Shifter Bureau took him away, or the Shifters decided to kill him or make him wear that stupid Collar
.

Idiots.
If the Collar Tiger had been wearing was fake, and still he’d stopped himself from killing Walker and the assassin, not to mention Ethan, then obviously Tiger didn’t need the damn thing.

It wasn’t the Collar keeping Tiger careful when he held the cubs or careful with Carly. It was
Tiger.

She ran her fingers around the healing line where the fake Collar had been. Tiger looked into Carly’s eyes, the wanting in him stark.

Carly popped the button of his jeans. Tiger growled low in his throat, bunched her dress in his hands, and skimmed it off over her head. Carly sped his zipper down, finding behind it silky red boxers with black hearts on them.

Carly pushed his jeans down his hips, laughing. “Where did you get
those
?”

“Glory. From Elizabeth’s store.” Tiger kissed her again, letting her laugh against his mouth. “Connor said it was a joke, but I didn’t have anything else to wear.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T
iger loved her laughter. This woman could find the joy in anything. She shook delightfully as Tiger kissed her. “I’ll try to find you some with tiger stripes,” she said. “Or maybe paw prints.”

As she went on laughing, the warmth of the mate bond again filled Tiger’s heart.

At the same time, another pang of loss reached out and gripped him. Connor and Kim had laughed so hard when Glory brought Tiger the gift of the underwear, and even Dylan had looked amused. They’d included Tiger in their family, he realized, in their jokes, even if he didn’t understand them. For a fleeting moment, he’d belonged. Now he had to leave that behind, as well as Carly.

The mate of his heart. Tiger needed her more with every breath.

Maybe her crazy plan to run away with him would work. Maybe they could hole up together in a Mexican beach town and live out their lives.

But Tiger had seen the flash of sorrow in Carly’s eyes when he’d said Carly would have to leave her family behind. She loved them. She had ties here, in this house where she was so comfortable.

Tiger would have to say good-bye to her. But not now. Now he would feast on her, imbibing all she had to give so he could savor the memory when he was away. He’d leave her behind so she could be safe, but he’d leave something else as well. His cub, a part of himself, for her.

Tiger snaked his hand beneath the elastic of her panties and jerked them from her bottom, pushing them down her legs to fall on the floor. While Carly ran her hands down his bare back, nibbling his bottom lip, he pushed down his jeans and then the boxers, letting them pool around his ankles.

He still wore his motorcycle boots, but so what? He didn’t have time to sit down and pull everything off. Better traction on the floor anyway.

Tiger lifted Carly’s hips and settled her on the edge of the counter, winding her legs around him. Her eyes widened and she started to protest, her hands on his chest, but Tiger also knew he would never make it upstairs with her. Maybe to the kitchen table, maybe all the way to the stairs if they ran, but he needed Carly
now.

He opened her with his hand, finding her hot and wet with wanting, then he slid inside her, inch by slow inch. It killed him to go slowly, but Carly was still getting used to him, and the last thing in the world Tiger wanted to do was hurt her.

Carly made a soft sound of pleasure, her eyes half closing. She was tight, gripping, and Tiger’s thoughts became incoherent. All he knew was Carly, her heat, her body pliant in his arms, the threads of the mate bond that stretched from his heart to hers.

Those threads could never be severed. No matter how far Tiger went from her, the bonds would be there, invisible, magic, unbreakable.

Carly cried out, and Tiger slid the rest of the way into her. She rocked back, and Tiger lifted her hips, steadying her on his hardness. She was slick, taking him yet squeezing him, and Tiger lost himself in nothing but sensation.

His hips moved, starting the back-and-forth rhythm that felt so incredible. Carly held on to his wrists, her green gaze locked to him, her body rocking with his. She cried his name, the sound of it echoing in the large room, wrapping around him like the magic of the mate bond.

Here
was where he needed to be, inside this woman, where all was beauty and wildness. And home.

Tiger thrust into her, filling her all the way, Carly’s eyes widening. She pulled him to her with her feet in their high-heeled shoes on his buttocks, this sex raw and fierce. Tiger loved it—he loved
her.

Need you. Love you.
Tiger began the rhythm again, faster, faster, the slapping sound as they came together exciting. Carly dug her fingers into his wrists, her spike heels pressing his backside.

Tiger shouted her name, white-hot fire pouring through him. The rightness of being with his mate, and feeling like this, made him know that this was the most precious moment he might ever have for the rest of his life.

Under him Carly pulsed and rocked, her pleasure consuming her. She laughed wildly as she found her release, coming up to wrap her arms around him and hold on to him.

Together, entwined,
mated.
Tiger gathered him to her, both of them breathless, and kissed her in the sweetness of afterglow.

* * *

W
alker stood in front of the desk of his commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Sheldon, and was glad Sheldon wasn’t a Shifter. Walker was good at keeping his body language neutral, but Shifters could read even the minutest twitch of a finger.

“And now I hear the Shifter is missing,” Sheldon was saying. “What the hell happened?”

Sheldon’s voice was quiet and cold. The command of the Special Forces attachment to the Shifter Bureau was pretty much a shit assignment. Sheldon, though, was ruthless enough to turn it into something he could use for promotion, for a bigger command. Sheldon had ambition.

Walker’s assignment as XO in the unit probably meant he’d been sidelined, but he didn’t care. He’d seen too much in his life, done too much, and had too much anger in him. Sitting on the sidelines for a while was what he needed. And now he had to sit back and watch his commanding officer show his true dickhead colors.

“I want that Shifter found, locked into the facility, and tested every which way,” Sheldon said. “If he resists, and you have to drag in his corpse, do it. The researchers will harvest what they need from him. But I want the Shifter.”

Walker listened without changing expression. When Sheldon moved back to his desk, done with his diatribe, Walker cleared his throat.

“Respectfully, sir.”

Sheldon looked up abruptly, his eyes so cold they burned. “Captain? I’d be interested to hear your opinion.”

The words were a hard sneer. Walker held on to his purpose, though the LTC’s eyes could make even senior officers decide they needed to walk another direction instead of have to pass him.

“With respect, sir, the mission is to find out all we can about why this Shifter was singled out, what research was carried out on him, and if that research or the Shifter himself can be used to help our troops in the field. Not to kill him.”

“Is it?” Sheldon asked. He gave Walker a full minute of his obey-me-or-die stare. “Let me explain something, Danielson. That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas. You know that—you’ve read the research.
Our
mission, yours and mine, is to get that Shifter back and extract everything we can from him.
Your
mission is to bring him to me. By any means possible. Dead or alive.”

Walker hid a twitch of nervousness. The trouble with Sheldon is that he was usually right, but the way he was right spoke of a mercilessness that made Walker’s blood cold. “Sir.”

“Get out, Danielson.”

“Sir.” Walker gave Sheldon a perfect salute and went.

That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas
. Sheldon’s words, but his eyes had told a different story. Sheldon was playing his own game.

What Walker needed to do now was figure out how to keep the tiger Shifter safe and discover what the true purpose of his creation was. All this without screwing up Walker’s own life.

He walked to the mess hall in the tiny camp on the south side of Austin where the small unit trained constantly, though it rarely was called out to do anything with Shifters. The Shifters in Austin, where the Shifter Bureau South was located, never gave anyone any trouble. The only incidents had been a Shifter accused of murdering a human woman a few years ago—proved innocent—and now Tiger’s violence in the hospital.

Which had stopped the moment Carly Randal had walked into the room and said his name. There was something in that, and not just because Carly was cute.

Of course, Rebecca stripping down to change into a bear had pretty much floored Walker. Women could make a man feel like he’d been punched in the gut.

Because the camp was small, there was no separate dining facility for the few officers; everyone ate together in one mess hall. Sheldon either went out to lunch or ate in the small private room off the main cafeteria. Walker usually ate in the main mess when he had a meal in camp, mostly because he couldn’t imagine conducting casual lunchtime conversation with LTC Sheldon. Plus he knew his men didn’t mind seeing an officer eating lunch like a human being once in a while.

Walker scanned the score of men who were either already eating or standing in line with their trays, until he found the sergeant he was looking for.

Crosby was a sergeant who was very good at obeying orders to the letter, which was how he’d made it all the way to E-5. God help the army if he ever made it to staff sergeant or higher. Crosby had a square head, made more square by his buzzed hair, and a rectangular shaped body replete with muscle. He was the best at all the fitness tests and the first one out for PT every morning.

Crosby rose to his feet as Walker deposited his full tray opposite him. The sergeant was alone, isolated from the rest of the fatigue-clad lunchers, because no one liked him.

“As you were, Sergeant,” Walker said, sitting down. “If you stand up while I eat, your food will get cold.”

Crosby plunked back down again, but he didn’t eat. “Sir.”

“Nice shot taking down the Shifter,” Walker said as he stirred his unidentifiable soup. “Why’d you keep shooting him once he was on the ground?”

Crosby looked puzzled. “Told to, sir. Put as many rounds into him as it took but make sure he was alive when I walked away.”

Aha. Walker hadn’t been certain which of the soldiers had been sent out to run Tiger off the road and shoot him, but he’d strongly suspected it had been Crosby. Crosby had just confirmed it.

“How did you know where the Shifter would be going that day?”

“Didn’t. Was told to follow and take the best opportunity. That’s a lonely stretch out there.” He didn’t change expression, but Walker saw in the man’s eyes that he was pleased with his ingenuity. “Orders came straight from the LTC, sir.”

Which Crosby would never question. “In the execution of those orders, you know you endangered civilians.”

Crosby’s puzzled look returned. “Sir? I waited until they were well away from other humans—no houses out there, no other cars. The only ones endangered were another Shifter who could have attacked me and the Shifter groupie.”

Walker bit back his retort, suppressing his natural disgust at Crosby in the interest of getting more info. He suddenly wished Rebecca or Ronan had been here to hear Crosby dismiss Ellison and Carly. Rebecca would have whacked Crosby’s head off with one swipe of her paw. For that matter, Walker would love to see Crosby’s face when confronted with the gigantic form of Rebecca as a Kodiak bear.

“The Shifter lived,” Walker said. “Is up walking around.”

Crosby nodded. “I know, sir. LTC wanted him shot to find out how much he could take.”

“I guess the LTC found out,” Walker said. “Even if the Shifter had to suffer a lot.”

“Yes, sir.” Crosby kept his hands on the table, his expression remaining blank.

“My original training was as a medic,” Walker said, abandoning the soup and moving around mashed potatoes that didn’t look much different from the soup. “For a special forces A-Team.”

Crosby’s look now turned to respect. “Infiltration. Love to be picked for one of those missions.”

Walker didn’t answer. A-Teams were small and often cut off from any support behind enemy lines for long stretches of time. The men in them needed to be able to adapt and react, think and judge, far from any chains of command. Crosby was an unthinking machine, ready to let someone in charge point him and shoot. He wouldn’t be much use in a situation in which he needed to take initiative, or even to take over.

“I’ve seen pretty bad injuries,” Walker said. “But never saw anyone walk away from something like what you did to the tiger.”

“The Shifter’s pretty strong.”

Walker patiently ate another bite of potatoes. “If you get any more orders concerning the tiger Shifter—any Shifter—mention it to me before you go, okay? I like to keep track of my men in case I need someone for a mission.”

“Yes, sir.” Crosby never asked questions.

“Enjoy your lunch, Sergeant.”

Walker rose with his tray, and Crosby jumped to his feet at attention. “Yes, sir.”

Walker left the room, carrying the tray to the private room, which was mercifully empty. He sat down and ate every bite of his hot lunch, as he’d learned to, but his mind was a long way from the food.

* * *

C
arly lay in warm sunshine in her sisters’ guest room, feathering kisses across Tiger’s bare chest.

He was awake, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, sunlight dancing on the orange and black in his hair. The bedsheets were on the floor, their only cover the sunshine.

“I never knew it could feel that good,” Carly said.

“I didn’t know either.” The words rumbled in Tiger’s chest, touched with wonder.

Carly traced lazy circles across his chest, her fingers finding and tugging at his flat nipple. “I only met you a few days ago. And now I can’t imagine how I got through my life before you were in it.”