Authors: Lynde Lakes
She’d just stepped into her caravan when the sky broke wide
open in a thunderous rumble and the rain fell in torrents. She stood in the
entry dripping and looking out, her stomach in knots. Lightning scrawled silver
zigzags across the sky and illuminated the top of the dark, stilled Ferris
wheel. She saw Hugh running toward her and wondered if their adventure into the
hills was off. Their scheduled interval at this circus location was limited and
they were dealing with a ticking clock. But, but the weather was—
“Ready to go,” he
asked as he took the steps to her caravan two at a time.
She frowned out at the pouring rain and slipped out of her
wet sandals. “Sure, why not?” She wore only a soaked gold cape over her strips
of wet fur. “Give me a sec to change into something more appropriate for
wandering through spiky bushes and chilly caves.” From the cupboards, she got
out the instant coffee and two mugs. “Make yourself useful.”
Mostly she wanted to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t
think too much about her forth-coming nudity.
She stepped behind a screen and stripped. She grabbed two
towels and tossed one over the top of the divider to Hugh.
He laughed. “Not much point in drying off. I’ll just get
soaked again. Besides, I like water.”
“Yes, I’m aware of lycanthropes love of water. Dry off,
anyway. I don’t want you dripping all over my caravan.”
“Right.”
His voice was deep, the
tone lilting.
What did he have to
be amused about?
She heard the microwave ding and a second later she
inhaled the tempting aroma of coffee. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and
slipped into a sleeveless sweater. When she hurried out from behind the screen,
he handed her a mug. She clicked hers with his.
“To finding
hidden treasure.”
Standing only inches apart, they
took a couple of sips.
He glanced at her bookcase, one special made for traveling
folks. It had a see-through screen and doors on sliders. “Ingenious,” he said.
“I’d like to build one of those for myself. Am I allowed to make improvements
to my abode?”
“Sure. Just run your plans by the big boss. I’ll tell him
it’s a good idea.”
“Interesting collection of books for a
tiger trainer.”
She laughed. Her choice of reading material always
surprised people. They didn’t understand why most of her books centered on
crime and police science. “I suppose I acquired my interest in police
procedures from Grandy. He came from a family of policemen.
Hugh’s gaze fixed on the title of one of the books: An
Introduction to Forensic Science and Criminal Investigation. “Knowledge of such
things could come in handy. You are a multi-faceted lady. Just when I think I
have you figured out…
”
He glanced at a chair but
didn’t sit down. “Have you read all those books?”
She laughed.
“Most of them.”
“Well, being friends with a woman exposed to such
information could be helpful in our adventure tonight.” He gestured with his
mug full of coffee.
“To success.
I’d love to relax and
discuss your choice of reading material further, but I have a feeling we’re
only seen the beginning of this storm and the sooner we head out the better.”
She nodded, drained her cup, and then opened a tiny closet.
She pulled out two London Fog raincoats; the larger had belonged to Grandy.
“These will keep the worst of it off of us and might block
some of the wind. It gets cold in caves very quickly.”
“Right,” he said.
She’d learned in the short time since they’d set down
stakes in San Bernardino that it didn’t matter how high the temperature rose in
the day time, it always cooled at sunset, and on a stormy, dark night such as
this one the barometer-drop chilled clear to the bones.
She gathered a flashlight, matches, a couple of energy
bars, bottles of water, a few small plastic bags, and a six-by-six plastic
medical kit and tucked them into a knapsack.
“Good thinking,” he said.
A grin pulled at the corners of her mouth at his praise.
She shoved a pair of thin plastic gloves into her pocket for good measure.
He helped her into her coat and when he lifted her hair and
tucked it into the
hood,
she felt a tingle of warmth
slide down her spine. “Thanks,” she said past the constriction in her throat.
Dear God. I’m
starting to care more for Hugh than is healthy for either of us.
Everyone
she’d allowed herself to care for was dead; what if by allowing this affection
to grow, she was signing his death warrant?
After
tonight, I must cool things down!
****
Hugh always prided himself on being a good tracker. When he
turned north instead of south Tigra sent him a questioning look. “The front
entrance is the other way,” she said.
He winked and continued leading the way through the dimly
lit arcade into the blackness at the rear of the grounds. “If we leave by the
back way, we have a better chance of not being seen.”
“It’s fenced.”
“I’ll help you over.”
Tigra sent him an over-my-dead-body look. She broke
ahead of him and took off for the furthest corner of the chain link fence.
Why? Is she afraid of having
me
touch her body?
Afraid of her own
reactions?
Conceited fool, you’d like to believe that
, he told
himself.
Before he could catch up, she climbed the chain link
fence like a monkey, then putting her hand on a support
post,
she swung herself over the fence like a gazelle. Hugh knew she was part tiger,
but he hadn’t known, that like him, she had the attributes of a whole damned
zoo. He followed suit and they ran into the hills. He grabbed her hand. When
she started to pull away, he said, “We need to stay together for safety’s sake;
it would be easy to get separated on a stormy, dark night like this.”
She nodded.
Great affection welled up inside him. He was finding
it difficult not to fall in love with this tiger-woman. He tightened his jaw
against the agony. Once he made things right and made sure she was safe, he had
to back off.
****
Tigra fought a troubled giddiness.
Like Hugh said, we’re only holding hands to stay together.
But it
felt so right.
Trying to ignore the
warmth and strength of his big hand clutching her smaller hand, she combed the
outline of the hills, watching for a dark indentation that might indicate a
cave. She wanted to find a cave not only to search it for the golden arrowhead
but also to seek shelter from the menacing lightning arcing too close for
comfort.
T
he
rain fell in torrents. Lightning scrawled zigzags across the sky and
illuminated the outline of the hills. The dripping trees and bushes were a mass
of black shadows, seemingly crouching like demons ready to strike.
Another arc of lightening flashed over the hills. “Look,”
Hugh said, “a cave, ahead to your right.”
“Yes, I see it.” An eerie feeling sent a prickle through
the roots of her hair.
As they ran into the darkness of the cave, a
boom of thunder exploded over the top and
echoed through its tunnels. Another arc of lightning lit up the entrance. Hugh
pulled her back from the arcs.
The brightness sent wicked lights and
shadows flickering across his steely features.
Thunder struck again and when she jumped, he drew her close. His faint
aroma reminded her of wet redwood. She loved the smell of wood. To keep from
putting her arms around him, she dug through the bag for the flashlight.
She heard a low
growl and inhaled wet fur.
“Oh, no.
I think we’ve
invaded a wolf’s den.”
A pair of glowing
eyes peered out at them from the darkness.
“Don’t turn on the
flashlight. I’ll handle it.”
Tigra
heard
what sounded like the swish of a discarded raincoat and then the angry growling
of more than one wolf. She suspected Hugh had morphed. Icy with fear and
burning with curiosity, she went against Hugh’s instructions and flashed the
light on the wolves.
One was black with
bold, silvery marking and the other gray. The black wolf with starling, silvery
markings was Hugh. As if he didn’t want to harm the slightly smaller wolf, he
got down on all fours and met the animal’s gaze. His apparent attempt at
hypnosis and creating a telepathic bond didn’t scare off the beast. The wolves
faced each other, lips curled, incisors bared, and growling.
Hugh’s feral Gray eyes blazing with wolf
ferocity.
Hugh bristled his fur,
then
he stood
up on his hind legs, throwing a giant shadow onto the wall. The wolves began to
circle. The glow from the flashlight highlighted her alpha werewolf’s ferocity.
Her heartbeat quickened. Unidentified emotions rushed through her, but she
didn’t have time to sort them out. She had the urge to help, but he seemed to
have things under control. She kept an eye on the battling wolves, watching for
a shift of power. Hugh crouched low and issued a throaty growl. His eyes glowed
like hot coals. The wolf, which was only protecting his den, lunged for Hugh’s
throat. She gasped, caught in a riveting sense of rising panic. She didn’t want
either of the wolves to be hurt, especially Hugh.
Hugh whipped
around and counter attacked. Fully engaged by Hugh, the threatening wolf curled
his lips, his gleaming incisors bared. He leapt at Hugh again. Hugh thrashed
about to stop the enraged wolf from closing his jaws on his throat. While her
alpha werewolf fought the wolf, muzzle to muzzle and blocked bite for bite, she
shrugged off her clothing and morphed into her Tiger form. Growling, she jumped
on the back of the wolf with her claws extended and dug them and her incisors
into his shoulders and neck. The deafening rumble of the three of them growling
echoed through the cave. The wolf thrust himself against the cave’s wall and
knocked her off his back. Terrified, she watched for a chance to get back into
the action.
The shadows on the wall reflected the fierceness of
the battle. She smelled blood. She leapt onto the gray
wolf’s
back again. He shook her off onto the hard rock floor then
fixed his piercing gaze on her. As she edged away, he leapt and
tried to close his incisors on her throat. She dodged and slinked out of his
reach. Hugh used the distraction to attack again. He went for the throat. The
wolf twisted and Hugh bit into his shoulder. Blood gushed out.
The wolf let out a pained whine. The injured animal
glared at them—tiger and wolf—then as if feeling out-numbered and out
maneuvered, it retreated and disappeared deeper into the bowels of the cave.
She froze, listening, afraid to move.
A gust of wind whistled through the cave. It smelled
musty…like death.
Ahead was a dangerous, injured wolf and behind
was…what?
A vampire…a serial killer?
Tigra shivered, struck by the eerie feeling she was in a
never ending nightmare with a duality of evil, slinking toward them from two
directions, ready to attack.
Chapter Fifteen
After shifting back to her human form Tigra glanced
over at Hugh who had also shifted. He put his finger to his lips and drew her
into his warm arms. They huddled nude and silent in the shadows for about five
minutes to make sure the immediate peril was over then Tigra scrunched her
brows and whispered,
”
You’re
bleeding.” She fought the effect of his heat mingled with her lingering
apprehension.
He
looked down at her with thickly lashed eyes.
“Just scratches
and shallow bites.
I can treat it later.”
“Too dangerous,” she said, digging the
medical kit out of her backpack. “The smell of fresh blood could bring the
whole pack sniffing around.”
“Pack?
What makes
you think there might be more than one wolf?”
She gently touched his shoulder, stepped
closer again, and said, “Nothing.
Just considering all the
possibilities.”
He placed his hands on her nude waist and
laughed softly. “We’re alike in that respect.”
Heat and desire shot through her, but she
forced herself to close her mind to his touch, his nearness, and concentrate on
the likely danger waiting ahead.
“Then you’ll appreciate my other reasons
as well—vampires can smell blood for miles, and when we return to the circus,
the odor of the fresh
red stuff
will
stir up my tigers.”
Fighting a relentless yearning, she
smoothed antibiotic cream gently over his taut, firm skin and then bandaged his
gashes, trying not to let his feral-manly scent or his breath feathering across
her cheek distract her. If she looked up into his eyes again, she might do
something stupid like draw his head down and kiss him. When he flexed his
biceps hard and tensed under her fingertips, her heart quickened.
What the devil is wrong with me
?
If
he were seriously hurt, I could concentrate on the wound, but these shallow
slashes and gashes won’t even require stitches.
Earlier, his quick, alpha jump-to-action
was controlled and agile—a performance that perhaps saved their lives.
The potential for further danger is what I
should be thinking about, not how much I crave having his hands on me, his body
touching mine, and finishing what we started in the steamy pool.
She stiffened her back. Determined to keep
her goals and priorities straight, she forced herself to look up at Hugh.