Blind Tiger

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Blind Tiger Page 3

by Rachel Vincent


  “How much longer?” I asked as I headed for the hall.

  “Two months. Though I wouldn’t object to an early arrival, as long as he’s healthy.”

  “My little brother came early, and he was fine,” I assured her. “I’ll see you next time, Faythe. And Rick, thank you again for setting this up.”

  “It’s the least we could do,” Faythe said as she opened the door. “Literally the least,” she added with a glance at the kitchen, where the other Alphas were gathered.

  “I’ll walk you out.” Wade led me out the front door while Faythe went in search of her sandwich, and as I unlocked my SUV, he cleared his throat. “Titus, how’s Abby doing? Is she safe?”

  “Yes. You have my word.” I met his gaze, letting him judge my sincerity for himself. “And she’ll only be safer if and when the council recognizes our territory. An alliance would benefit us both. Your daughter could be officially in your life, Rick.”

  “I can’t make any promises.” His voice was carefully neutral, but I could see hope gathering behind his eyes. “This isn’t a democracy, but it’s not a dictatorship either. It’s not solely my call. And it’s a complicated issue.”

  I nodded, though to me, opening the borders and acknowledging everyone’s right to exist seemed rather simple.

  “Will you just… Will you tell her to call her mother?” Rick asked as I leaned into the car to drop my laptop case on the passenger seat.

  I couldn’t resist a laugh. “Abby doesn’t take orders. But I’ll ask her to call her mother.”

  “Thank you, Titus. You’ll hear from us soon.” Rick Wade watched me get into my car and start the engine. As I pulled out of the driveway, a small SUV followed me onto the road, and in the rearview mirror, I recognized the driver as Teddy Di Carlo, Bert Di Carlo’s youngest remaining son. Teddy was my official escort out of the Southeast Territory.

  I’d been driving for less than twenty minutes when my phone rang. Faythe’s name appeared on the screen. I answered through the car’s speakerphone. “Hey, Faythe. Do not tell me they’ve ruled against me already.”

  “No, they haven’t started discussing it yet. This is about…” Her sentence faded, as if she were searching for a way to continue. “Titus, please tell me you don’t have Robyn Sheffield.”

  I frowned at my phone, plugged into its travel charger. “I don’t have Robyn Sheffield. Why would you even ask that?”

  “She’s missing. Everyone’s out looking for her, but no one’s seen her since before you left. So I thought…”

  “You thought I, what? Just took her? Don’t you think my helpful Southeast escort would notice if there were a passenger in my car?”

  “Not if she were…hidden.”

  “Seriously? I would hope you know me better than that by now.” Faythe, Marc, Jace, and I had been working together for nearly a year to put my proposal in front of the council.

  “I do. I’m sorry.” She sighed, and stress echoed in the sound. “I have to cover all the bases. I’m calling Abby next, to see if she’s heard anything.”

  “Do you need her number?” Abby and Jace both had to get new cell phones when Jace’s was passed to the new Alpha of his old Pride—Isaac Wade—and Abby’s father took her off his family plan.

  “No, I have it. Thanks, though. Will you let me know if you hear anything? She might tell you things she won’t tell me these days.”

  “Of course.” Though I wasn’t entirely sure I meant that. Until and unless my Pride was officially recognized, my loyalty remained with my men. If Abby knew something and Robyn wasn’t in any danger, I was inclined to let her keep her secret.

  “Thanks.” Faythe hung up, and I turned my thoughts to the meeting as I drove, mentally going over every potential mistake I’d made during my presentation.

  After several hours on the road, long after the sun had sunk beneath the western horizon in my windshield, I waved goodbye to Teddy Di Carlo at the territorial border, just east of the Mississippi state line. He nodded at me, acknowledging that I had officially vacated the Southeast Territory, but didn’t crack even a hint of a smile.

  Pride cats, in my experience, were entirely too serious.

  A few miles later, I pulled into the state welcome center to use the restroom and buy a drink from the vending machine. As I was backing out of my parking spot, sipping from a bottle of sweet tea, a familiar scent suddenly washed over me.

  I slammed on the breaks, my pulse racing in my ears, and movement in the rearview mirror caught my attention. A set of eyes blinked at me in the dark. From the cargo space in the back of my car.

  “Damn it!” I slammed the gearshift into park and twisted in my seat so fast that tea sloshed over my hand. “Robyn? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Hi. I’m sorry.” She flinched, and even in the dark, I could see guilt etched into the tiny worry lines forming around her frown. “I was going to hitch a ride into the free zone, and you would never have known I was here, but I drank two bottles of water and a huge mug of coffee before I settled in here, and now I really have to pee.”

  “You…? What…?” I dropped my bottle into the drink holder, and more splashed over.

  “I have to pee. Like, right now. Sorry, but it’s an emergency.” She climbed over the back seat and plopped down in the third row.

  “Robyn, why are you in my car? And why do you smell like—?” Me. My scent clung to her, as if she’d been rolling around in my bed for hours.

  With that thought, the image appeared in my head, helped along by the fact that her hair was disheveled from hours spent huddling beneath something in my car.

  Robyn held something up, and I squinted into the near darkness at my spare shirt. “I found a change of clothes in a bag, and I covered myself with them. So you wouldn’t smell me.”

  That took me a moment to process.

  The only female stray confirmed to exist in the US—the Territorial Council’s most guarded asset—had snuck out of her gilded birdcage and rolled around in my scent.

  I shifted in my seat, struggling to stay focused on the problem because I’d never smelled a more arousing combination of scents in my life. Instincts I’d learned to control years before suddenly roared to life deep inside me. From the wild heart of my shifter half, which I’d managed to bottle up, but could never truly tame.

  No. You cannot have her, my human half insisted. She’s going to get you killed.

  “Robyn, you can’t be here.” I spoke slowly. Careful to keep my thoughts out of my voice.

  “I know that tone,” she said as she climbed over another seat back and landed in the second row. “You can yell at me all you want in a few minutes. Right now, I have to pee.”

  “You’re not getting out of this car. I’m driving you straight back to—”

  She opened the door and stepped into the parking lot.

  “Damn it!” I spit as I pulled the SUV into the parking space and slammed the gear into park again. “Robyn!” I whispered fiercely as I got out and race-walked after her, across the dark expanse of crunchy February grass, trying not to notice how well her angry stride showed off her ass. “Get back here!”

  A man looked up from helping his young daughter open a can of soda at the well-lit bank of vending machines.

  “Robyn!” I caught up with her near the women’s restroom and grabbed her arm. “You can’t just leave. And you sure as hell can’t involve me in whatever rebellion you’re launching.” I had a battle of my own to fight, which left me with neither the time nor the energy for hers. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss her and find out how she tasted.

  She pulled her arm from my grip, staring up at me, and I wondered how any man in the world had ever refused those gorgeous blue eyes anything. “We’ll discuss this after I empty my bladder.”

  “Get in the car.” I reached for her again, and she stepped away, eyes flashing fiercely.

  “I’ll shout for help,” she threatened through clenched teeth, nodding at the man and his dau
ghter. “You can spend the evening in jail for assault, or you can let me go to the bathroom, after which I’ll willingly get in your car.”

  Before I could answer, a family of five came out of the bright visitor’s center into the dark night, clutching pamphlets advertising things to do on vacation in Mississippi.

  Robyn wasn’t bluffing. I could see that in the way she watched the family.

  “Fine. Go pee. But if you try to run, I will chase you.” Which would give me a legitimate excuse to watch her backside until I caught her. “You’re going back to Atlanta even if I have to drag you there.”

  “By my hair?” she demanded softly, brows arched to make her point. Then she opened the door to the women’s room and slipped inside.

  I waited outside the door with my arms crossed over my chest, ignoring the blatant stares of the other motorists. I was well aware of how the situation looked from the outside. The big bad man in the suit won’t even let his wife or girlfriend go to the bathroom in peace. But they had no idea what was really going on.

  Every second that passed raised my blood pressure. If the sun were still up, I might already have been recognized, and every moment I stood there increased the chance of that happening.

  I could not afford to be on the news again. Not like this.

  A toilet flushed inside the bathroom and water ran softly. An electric hand dryer roared for a second before soft footsteps headed my way. I pulled open the door as she got to it and was rewarded with Robyn’s surprised face staring out at me.

  “That’s creepy,” she said, flicking several mineral-scented drops of water off her still-wet hands. Into my face.

  “I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘courteous.’” I wiped the moisture off my face with my left hand. “That’s what most people call it when one person opens a door for another.”

  “Unless that first person is planning to drag the second person back into captivity.”

  I started to argue with her characterization of the situation—until I realized how accurate it was. But that wasn’t my fault. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll get in your car because I promised I would,” Robyn whispered as we walked toward my SUV. “But you’re not taking me back to Atlanta.”

  I laughed, but the sound held no humor. “Where is it we’re going, according to your delusion?”

  “You’re taking me home—that’s the new plan. To your home. So I can talk to Abby.”

  Yes. Back to my home, where she really could roll around in my bed for hours.

  I wish...

  “This isn’t a game, Robyn.” I stopped and shoved my hands into my pocket, to make sure no one still watching would think I was threatening her. “Helping you escape into the free zone would ruin any chance I have of getting my Pride recognized,” I hissed. “Any chance my men have of gaining rights and privileges you clearly take for granted.”

  Irritation flashed over her features. “Prison is not a privilege. And anyway, I’m already in the free zone.”

  “They don’t have to know that.” Shit. My forehead furrowed as the realization fell into place. “Except Teddy saw me cross the territorial line. You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” I demanded. “A stray removing one of the council’s tabbies from her territory will be considered an act of war. They will invade my territory and attack my men to get you back.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she insisted, blue eyes wide.

  “Of course I’m serious. That’s why Abby formally defected, instead of just running away. She did it in front of the entire council so that Jace couldn’t be blamed. But you can’t even do that, because you made a deal with them, didn’t you?” A plea deal, according to Abby. “You have to go back.” I reached for her arm again, and again she pulled away.

  “No. I don’t belong there.” Her gaze landed on my mouth and seemed snagged there. “I want to stay with you.”

  A possessive rumble began deep inside me at her declaration, and it took every bit of self-control I had not to pull her closer and kiss her. The ache to touch her, as she stood there bathed in my scent, was almost more than I could resist.

  What the hell is happening to me? It couldn’t be the normal reaction to meeting a tabby. My body had never reacted like that to Faythe or Abby.

  “I want to stay with Abby, I mean.” She gave her head a little shake, as if to wake herself up. “At your house. She’s the only friend I have.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am.” More than she would ever know. “But this isn’t up to me.”

  Robyn’s eyes widened, and the lights from the parking lot highlighted her impending panic. “I’m not going back. You’re trying to make things better for strays, right? Well, I’m a stray, and I need help. They’re trying to make me get married. They’re negotiating with one another about whose son gets to knock me up.”

  That growl began again at the very thought of someone else touching her, and I swallowed hard, shoving it down. She is not yours, Titus.

  “If you mean everything you said about making things better, you have to help me.” She took a deep breath and held my gaze with an impressive strength. “I demand sanctuary. As a stray.”

  My eyes fell closed, and I groaned as the predicament she’d put me in suddenly zoomed into crystal-clear focus.

  I am so screwed.

  THREE

  Robyn

  “Get in the car,” Titus growled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “We’re not going to have this argument in public.”

  I glanced across the welcome center, past a dark, empty playground and a bank of vending machines, at his SUV. “How do I know you won’t drive me back to Atlanta?”

  His scowl deepened. “You’re the stowaway threatening to start a war in my territory. I’m the one who has a reason to distrust.”

  “I’m not threatening to start a war,” I insisted as I headed toward his car. Slowly, in spite of the cold and the fact that I snuck out of the territory without my jacket.

  His frown lingered on me as some battle I couldn’t quite make sense of raged behind his steely gray eyes. “Yet that’s exactly what will happen if they find out I have you and I refuse to return you.”

  “Look, I’m not trying to make life hard for you. I just want—”

  “You can keep saying you don’t want to start trouble.” Titus clicked a button on his key fob as we drew closer to the parking lot, and his SUV’s locks disengaged with a solid-sounding thump. “But as long as what you’re actually doing is starting trouble, it’s a little hard for me to believe you.”

  Okay, that’s fair. “I admit I didn’t think this through. I saw an opportunity and I took it. I couldn’t stay in that house for one more second.”

  Titus pulled the passenger’s side door open for me, frowning. “They lock you in the house?”

  “Well, no,” I admitted as I slid onto the gray leather seat, setting his briefcase in my lap. He rolled his eyes and tried to close the door, but I held it open. “But they never let me leave the property, and they confiscated my phone, cutting off my access to the outside world. I’m under guard at all times. I’m a prisoner there.”

  “Yet somehow, you managed to sneak into my car without being seen.”

  “That was only possible because they trust you even less than they trust me,” I insisted. “While they were watching you, I slipped through the cracks.”

  “And into my car.” Titus slammed the door.

  He rounded the front of the vehicle, then stopped suddenly, and I could practically see some new realization smack him on the forehead. Then he stomped to the driver’s side and pulled his door open. “I already told them you weren’t with me!”

  “I heard. And I’m sorry. But your empty SUV was the only shot at freedom I’ve had in more than two months.” If four hours spent hiding under a stranger’s change of clothes didn’t prove how desperate I’d been to get out of there, I wasn’t sure what would. “Titus, if I’d stayed in that house, they would have turned me int
o some kind of feline Stepford wife and mother.”

  He slid into his seat and closed the door, leaving us in the dark when the interior light went out. Yet even in human form, I could still make out every silvery striation in his gray eyes, thanks to a cat’s ability to see in low light. “I’m sure you misunder—”

  “This is still the US, isn’t it? I still have rights?” I demanded, my fist clenched around the door grip.

  “Yes, but you made a deal with the council, and—”

  “I was coerced. I was threatened. If I hadn’t taken that deal, they would have ripped out my teeth or cut off the ends of my fingers to ‘declaw’ me. Have you seen what that looks like? Have you met Manx?” I saw her once, and a single glimpse of her mutilated hands had given me nightmares.

  “No, but—”

  “And there were veiled threats of execution. I had no choice but to accept their deal, not just for me, but for Abby. I did what I had to do to keep myself alive and to help her during her trial, but that doesn’t mean the deal was fair. That doesn’t give them the right to hand over my future to the Alpha with the most eligible son!”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Anger flashed behind his eyes at the thought, and his reaction made something low and sensitive clench inside me. “But yours isn’t the only life at stake here…” He started scrolling through the contacts list on his phone, and I realized I was losing him, in spite of the fact that he clearly agreed with me.

  “Titus!” I waved my hand in front of his screen. “If you send me to the Di Carlos, you have to admit that you’re a sexist hypocrite!”

  He arched both brows at me. “How the hell do you figure that?”

  “You’re offering protection and aid to all the strays in your territory, as long as they have a Y chromosome. That’s textbook sexism.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re the only stray in the country without a Y chromosome.”

  “Does that mean I don’t deserve the same consideration as the men?”

  “Of course not. But that’s not the issue. When the council finds out I have you, they’ll think I lied. They’ll invade my territory to get you, and people will die. My Pride will never be recognized, and without the council’s cooperation and resources, Life will never get better for strays in the free zone. I have to think about the greater good, Robyn.”

 

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