Tiger Bound (8 page)

He flattened a palm against his fist and used it to drive his elbow backward into his assailant’s gut. The man grunted, but he didn’t lose his balance. Heath jumped to his feet and went for the window again. The man grabbed him and dragged him back, then thrust him on the ground. A boot slammed into his chest, driving the wind from his lungs.

Heath’s lungs burned, and the air he dragged in scraped across his raw throat. “Stop this. I have to get Deja.”

His answer was a snarl and a right hook to the jaw. The blow drove him back to the past when the bully attacked without regard for the fact that he had no wish to fight. Then, he hadn’t reacted. Tonight, Deja lay in real trouble. When the blow came again, he deflected it with a punch to the joint in the man’s arm. The shatter of bone resounded in his ears. He rolled to his feet and threw another punch, connecting with a jaw this time. The man went down to the ground. Heath followed with several more blows until his attacker stopped moving, and then he spun to the window.

Fire consumed the dresser near the door and raced across the ceiling. Embers rained down, coming too close to where Deja lay unmoving. He didn’t pause but hoisted himself into the opening and grabbed Deja. In seconds, he carried her across the yard toward the road. When he laid her down, he checked her pulse then listened to her chest. Nothing.

“Damn it, Deja, don’t die on me, honey.
Please
.”

Heath tilted her head back and raised her chin. Pinching her nose, he blew twice into her mouth and then checked her breathing again. When she didn’t respond, he interlocked the fingers of both hands over her chest and began compressing her heart. Over and over he continued the training he’d learned just six months ago when he attended a class for first aid with Deja. She’d wanted to go “just because,” as she’d told him. He prayed he did everything right and that she’d respond. The small rise of her chest nearly brought him to tears of relief.

“You should have stayed in the house and let this end the easy way.”

Heath glanced up in time to block a blow to his head, but he didn’t see the knife until it sank into his side. He growled in pain and grabbed the man’s wrist still holding the knife hilt and gave it a sharp twist. At the same time, he rolled, driving his opponent to the ground, and landed with a knee on his back. Heath paused a second to suck in an agonizing breath and pulled the knife free of his wound. He tossed it away as the man struggled under him. Heath had the advantage with his strength and size, but he knew if he moved, neither he nor Deja would be safe.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

The man didn’t answer. Heath wrenched his arm, and the man cried out.

Heath leaned closer to his ear and snarled. “One chance.” He didn’t recognize the deep timbre of his own voice, but didn’t bother questioning it. “Answer me.”

“You can’t escape Spiderweb. They’re all around. Look at Tate. You think his death was an accident? He was a fool to think he could lie to us forever.” A tiger’s roar split the night, and Heath snapped the man’s neck.

“Heath?”

He narrowed his eyes on her and curled his clawed fingers into his palms. In silence, he backed away, but she sat up and reached out to him. He shook his head.
No, this isn’t right. It’s not who I am.

Sirens blared in the distance, and Heath sniffed the air. The smoke burned his nostrils and his eyes. He backed farther into the darkness.

“Heath!”

He battled to calm down and get control of himself. Before he reached that place, she was in his arms, pressing close and shaking from head to toe. He crushed her to him and stroked her hair. They sank together to the ground because he could no longer stand or hold her up. He had no idea where the people came from, but they dotted his property. Firemen aimed water hoses at the house, but one didn’t have to be a professional to see the irreparable damage.

An EMT took Deja from his arms, and when he would have protested, another placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. “It’s okay. We’re only going to get her some good air coming in. We’ll have to get you both treated for smoke inhalation. Are there any other injuries?”

Heath turned so she didn’t see the blood on his clothes. He took the mask off. “I’m fine. I didn’t take much in. Take care of Deja, please.”

“Are you refusing treatment?” she asked.

He knew he had the right to, but he needed to make it plain so they wouldn’t be liable. “Yes, I’m refusing treatment. Now focus on Deja.”

The derision in the EMT’s expression rolled off of him. They were the least of his worries. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the fact that he wasn’t human, and now he knew Spiderweb was real, that they had killed Tate, and that they would come after him again until he was dead.

* * * *

Heath stood beside Deja’s bed as she slept. The doctors had wanted to keep her overnight for observation and tests, especially since she’d stopped breathing during the fire. He stroked her hair, thankful she was okay. When she opened her eyes, she swept him away in the depths of their chocolate warmth, so obviously full of her love for him. He wished he could stay just to hold her once more, but he knew she would be safer with him gone. He would wait only until she settled in back at her place, and then he would leave.

She reached a hand out to him, and he took it, bringing it to his lips to kiss. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he chided. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

Her gaze dropped to his side. “You were hurt.”

He had retrieved his second set of keys from the barn and driven his truck to Buck’s house for a change of clothing. His friend still wasn’t in, so Heath had jimmied the lock. He couldn’t explain how the wound healed enough for him to close it with butterfly bandages borrowed from Buck’s medicine cabinet. The spot still hurt like a son of a bitch, but he could deal with that.

“I’m fine, Deja. Don’t worry.” He sat down on the side of the bed and patted her hand in his lap.

“Why do I feel so far away from you?”

“I’m right here.”

“No.” She sniffed. “I can tell, Heath. You’ve pulled away. I want you to know it doesn’t matter to me what’s inside of you. You’re Heath, my friend and my lover. I don’t see you any different than I did before all this mess.”

He laced his fingers with hers. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want your thanks, Heath. I want—”

“Excuse me.”

Heath turned to look toward the door, on alert in an instant. The sheriff’s deputy stood with legs planted, as if he wouldn’t be put off a second time the way Heath had done earlier. Heath suppressed a curse. He’d meant to warn Deja to keep quiet about Spiderweb and about Tate. All the evidence had been destroyed with his house either way.

“Come in, deputy.” Heath schooled his expression to one of indifference.

“Thank you.” The deputy stepped farther into the room and pulled a small notebook from his shirt pocket. He flipped it open and seemed to review what he’d already written. “The man you said set your house on fire, did you know him?”

“No.”

“Had you seen him before?”

“No.”

“I have,” Deja interjected.

Heath stared at her, but she didn’t look him. Her attention remained on the deputy. He tensed. “You saw him, Deja?”

“Sir, please, let me do the questioning.”

Heath fell silent.

“Yes, I saw him,” Deja said in a trembling tone that made Heath want to take her into his arms. “At the end when Heath…when they fought. I saw his face, and I recognized it. I’d seen him a few times in town. I asked Brenda if she knew him, and she said no. I also saw him talking to Candi Stapleton in the boutique.”

Heath considered whether Candi had anything to do with Spiderweb, but dismissed the thought right away. More likely, she’d come on to him for the simple fact that he was male. That Deja had kept this information from him concerned him more.

The deputy scratched notes onto his pad and swung back to Heath. “Any reason why someone would want to attack you, sir?”

“None,” Heath lied. “I am a simple rancher. Ask anyone in town. I’m working hard to grow my business, and it’s not the kind of venture to make enemies. My guess is he was passing through and thought I’d be an easy mark living out here with no near neighbors.”

The deputy frowned. “That can be said about half the people in the county.”

Heath stared at him, saying nothing. His job wasn’t to solve this case.

The deputy’s face reddened, and he flipped the notebook closed. “That’s all for now. Thank you for your cooperation. If you can think of anything else…”

“We’ll be sure to call you,” Heath finished. When the man left, Heath turned to Deja. “Thank you for not mentioning anything about what we learned before this happened.”

She pursed her lips. “What was I going to say? You’re the product of an experiment, and now you can turn into a tiger?”

He flinched. She reached for his hand, but he stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Get some sleep, Deja. I will be back for you in the morning to take you home.”

“You can stay at my place. Brenda has an extra set of keys for emergencies. I want to know you’re sleeping in a warm bed and you’re comfortable and safe.”

“I’m fine.” He dared a glance at her and fought a strange instinct within that seemed to instruct him to claim her, whatever that meant. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” He left the hospital room and walked out into the night, more alone than he ever thought he could be, because now he had to give up the person who was his entire world.

Chapter Seven

Deja sat across from Heath while he drove her home. She’d tried a couple times to touch him, but each time he found a reason to be out of reach. While she could only imagine what he must be going though, it hurt to be rejected when she loved him so much. Not for one minute did her feelings change or did she rethink being with him after she found out all that Tate said was true. Sure, seeing him that night had scared the crap out of her. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

When she’d come out of her fog and sucked in air, her throat burned as if someone had lit a match to it, and then she heard the growl like that of an animal. She’d struggled to her elbow, and all she could do was watch in horror. The man drove a knife into Heath’s side, and if her throat weren’t raw, she would have cried out. They struggled, and when Heath rolled and landed on top of the man, in the glow from the fire she saw the hawkish nose and bulbous eyes and knew it was the same guy from the boutique in town. Then she’d focused on Heath.

His skin had grown pale, almost white, with a shimmer of dark streaks on his cheeks. His eyes glowed in the firelight, and his teeth sharpened to points, the canines on the top and the bottom longer than the rest. When Heath spoke, she scarcely recognized his voice, as deep and harsh as it sounded. Nervousness raced over her at his obvious anger, but then when he snapped the man’s neck with little more than a tug, she thought she would faint again. Still, this was Heath, and she remembered the devastation in his eyes when he lost his dad. She would not turn away when he needed her the most. She’d called his name and thrown herself into his arms, but just like now she had felt him slipping away.

They pulled into the short drive in front of her house. She rented the first floor while another woman rented the second. Deja liked the place even though it was a bit on the old side and small. At least she could walk to work since she lived in town and save gas. Of course, she’d loved Heath’s house and imagined he would hate staying in her tiny place while he had his rebuilt. Insurance would cover it, so he didn’t have to worry.

When they were inside, she took the few short steps to the kitchen. “You want something to eat? I know you’ve been running around and not even thinking about it. How is your side? Do you want me to clean it and change the bandages?” She resisted making the suggestion for him to see a doctor. How could he?

“Deja.”

“Yes?” Her fingers spasmed, and she hid them in a dishtowel.

“Come and sit down. I think we need to talk.”

Her heart raced, but she did as he asked. “My throat is still raw. I think I have some ice cream in the freezer. You might want some too.”

“Shh,” he said, and she gritted her teeth, not from anger but from anguish.

“Heath.”

“Deja, listen to me.”

He strode over and led her to the couch in her joke of a living room. Her place might as well be one big room, sectioned off with paper-thin walls to look like an actual apartment. Never before had it felt like it was closing in on her, making it hard to catch her breath.

“Buck has been missing for about a week and a half.”

She started, not expecting him to say that. She had no love for Buck, but neither did she wish him ill. “What do you mean?”

“I mean one day he didn’t come to work.” He tugged at his nose and then rested his elbows on his knees. When it seemed to cause him pain, he sat back. She almost commented, but his expression kept her quiet. “The sheriff’s office contacted me this morning. They found his truck, with him in it, in the lake.”

Deja gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Heath. Did they say what happened? Maybe he’d been drinking too much. They need to crack down on people more after they’ve been sucking them down at the bar. I don’t know how many of them have knocked down Brenda’s homemade jams and jellies sign because they can’t keep their vehicles on the road. She’s thinking about just leaving it down.”

Heath rubbed his neck. She knew he was agitated when he did that, so she kept quiet. “There wasn’t enough alcohol in his system to end up in the lake, and even if there was, he knew how to hold his liquor.”

“You think that guy killed him, don’t you?”

He nodded.

Deja clutched her hands together and dipped her head to close her eyes. This entire situation was a nightmare, and even in her wildest dreams, she couldn’t have come up with the scenario.

“Listen to me carefully, Deja, without interrupting. Can you do that?”