by Smith, S. E.
“Trescina, my beautiful, beautiful, little cub,” she murmured, caressing the infant’s cheek with her fingers.
“Mia…,” Raul hoarsely called.
Mia lifted her cold eyes and stared at her mate. “You will never have the Heart of the Cat… or know the love of our daughter,” she weakly vowed.
Mia felt the power of the gem she still held in her hand engulf her and Trescina. The golden glow turned to a blood red. Mia fought against the darkness that rose up to swallow them. A strange and wonderful magic enveloped her and Trescina, and she knew the Goddess had answered her plea.
Her life here was over. Her last wish was that her daughter would never experience the heartache of knowing the truth about her father’s betrayal, but she feared that was one wish that would be impossible for her to keep—unless Aikaterina sent them far, far away where they would never be found.
1
Earth: Centuries later
Siberia, Russia
Trescina Bukov laughed as she chased her younger half-sister through the forest. Ahead of her, Katarina darted around a thick tree and hid. Trescina slowed and looked around, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Katarina’s breathing sounded loud to Trescina. On silent feet, she crept forward until she rounded the large tree trunk and pounced on her sister, sending her tumbling into the freshly fallen snow. She released a pleased sneeze when Katarina’s arms wrapped around her neck, and her sister tightly hugged her.
“Oh, Trescina, I wish I could shift into a tiger like you can,” Katarina sighed.
Trescina ran her sandpaper tongue along her sister’s cheek. The affectionate caress drew a loud squeal of disgust from Katarina. Trescina gave her sister a toothy grin before she shifted back to her human form and rolled to the side until they were both lying in the snow staring up at the barren trees.
“You were doing good until you bolted. If you had stayed in your hiding spot, I probably wouldn’t have found you,” Trescina teased.
Katarina sat up and gave her an indignant look. “Of course, you would have found me. You always do, no matter how good a hiding place I find,” Katarina good-naturedly complained.
Trescina lifted her legs in the air and then gracefully dropped them so she could roll to her feet. Katarina mimicked her movement. They both brushed the soft snow off of their heavy clothing.
“You are getting much better. It took me twice as long to find you as it did the last time,” Trescina said.
“Trescina, why can you shift into a tiger, and I can’t?” Katarina asked for the hundredth time. “I can hear you and Momma when you talk, and I can talk to the tigers that Momma and Papa care for, but….” she trailed off sadly.
Trescina wrapped her arms around her sister. Her heart ached for Katarina.
“I don’t know. Momma said she would explain when the time was right,” Trescina murmured.
They jumped and pulled apart when they heard a series of popping sounds. It almost sounded like firecrackers, but those were not allowed on their property. Trescina stepped in front of Katarina and frowned.
“What was that?” Katarina asked, gripping her arm.
Trescina was about to answer when she heard the sounds again. They both started forward when they heard their mother’s cry. Trescina stumbled back a step when Katarina grabbed her arm.
Hide! their mother warned them telepathically.
Momma, Trescina called.
Protect your sister, Trescina, their mother instructed as the popping sounds came again.
Trescina turned and gripped Katarina’s gloved hand. Pulling her sister behind her, she ran clumsily through the snow. They made their way deeper into the forest until they reached a river that was partially frozen. Along the bank were the skeletal remains of trees that had become entangled when they washed down during the spring thaw.
“Climb inside and stay there,” Trescina said, pushing her six-year-old sister toward the cluster of dead trees.
“What are you going to do?” Katarina asked, climbing between the jagged limbs.
“I have to help Momma. Papa is not here,” Trescina replied, picking up several broken branches and covering the spot where Katarina was crouching.
“But… Momma said that we must hide,” Katarina protested, grabbing the branch Trescina was about to place in front of her.
Trescina looked at Katarina. They were as different as night and day. Katarina’s hair was strawberry red, and her skin was almost as pale as the snow, just like their father. Trescina’s long black hair was thick, and its texture reminded her of the mane of the lions she petted at the zoo they had visited a few months before. Her olive complexion was even darker than their mother’s.
They had several traits in common, though. They both could communicate with the large cats on the reserve, and they were both stubborn like their mother—at least, that was what their dad liked to say when they got into mischief.
When Trescina heard yelling and a loud, masculine scream rip through the air, she quickly turned and looked back toward their home. Her cat hissed. Fear swelled in her at the thought of her mother facing danger alone.
“I’ll be back,” Trescina said.
She impatiently looked over her shoulder when she felt Katarina’s hand on her arm. She pulled free with a shake of her head and took off at a run through the snow, shifting into her tiger so she could move faster. Ahead of her, she could hear the echoes of popping again.
Dodging trees and ducking under fallen branches, she focused on running as fast as she could. She hoped their father had heard the sounds as well. He had gone to check his hidden cameras along the mountain where he had seen lynx tracks.
Trescina broke through the line of trees onto the tundra. In the distance, she could see flames rising from their house. A flash of black caught her attention. Charging forward, she ran faster than she had ever run before. She emitted a low cry when she saw two men dragging the body of a large Siberian tiger toward a truck.
The flash of black was back. This time her mother attacked one of the men aiming his weapon at a Manul, also called a Pallas cat. This smaller species of cat was a furry wild cat that normally lived in the Altai and Buryatia steppes near the Russian-Mongolian border, but this one had been brought to the reserve after it was injured in a poacher’s trap. Trescina and Katarina loved to play with the small cat in the evenings and early mornings after it had been fed.
Momma, behind you, Trescina warned as a second man lifted his rifle to shoot her mother.
Leaping through the air, she rammed her compact body into the man’s side. Her claws cut through his leather jacket and into his skin. She twisted, and the powerful attack, combined with her momentum, knocked the man off-balance. With a sharp report, the rifle fired harmlessly into the air instead of at her mother.
The man fell to the ground. Trescina rolled several times before she surged back to her feet. Her cat hissed a warning when one of the men turned from the back of the truck with a gun and aimed it at her.
She darted forward as the man she had knocked down sat up. The man from the truck fired three rounds at her. One hit the ground in front of her while the other two struck the man she had attacked earlier as she moved behind him.
The man jerked each time a bullet hit his chest. A loud curse exploded from the man standing next to the shooter. Trescina’s mother turned her head and hissed. Blood dripped from her mother’s chin and coated parts of her fur.
Trescina, run!! her mother ordered.
“Idiot! You are shooting our men. Kill the cat!” the man growled in Russian.
Trescina turned to follow her mother’s orders when she heard the loud repercussion of gunfire. Her mother jerked backwards. At the same time, the man who had fired the shots earlier convulsed. She looked up and saw her father running across the open area toward them.
“Vlad, let’s go,” another man said in Russian, coming around the side of the truck.
“Not without that cat. Look at her coat. Her pe
lt will be worth a fortune on the black market! I want the cub as well. We can sell them both,” Vlad ordered.
Both men ducked when her father shouldered his rifle, aimed, and fired at them. The man next to Vlad lifted the rifle in his hand to return fire. Trescina saw her mother leap forward, her front claws extended. Trescina backed up as her mother drove the man back against the truck. Her powerful jaws clamped around the man’s neck. The rifle in his hand fell to the ground as he struggled to break free.
No! Trescina cried when she saw Vlad pull a machete out of the back of the truck.
She watched helplessly as Vlad drove the long blade through her mother’s ribs. Her mother stiffened and released her grip on the man’s throat. Vlad pulled the machete free and stabbed her mother again.
Her mother emitted a loud yowl of pain before she crumpled to the ground. Grief seared through Trescina, and she attacked with everything she had in her small body. Her teeth sank into the man’s arm near his elbow. He twisted and punched her in the side near the top of her ribs. She clawed at his chest in a desperate attempt to break free.
He struck her again, this time against the side of her head. The stunning blow caused her to release her grip on his arm. His long fingers gripped the skin of her nape and he held her up and away from him. She braced for another blow when he lifted his hand. The force of his backhand snapped her head to the side, causing black dots to dance in front of her.
Darkness fogged the corner of her vision before she shook it away. Staring at the ground, an uncontrollable sob tore from her throat when she saw the dark blood staining her mother’s side.
Fight, Trescina, her mother weakly ordered. Use your claws.
Trescina could hear her mother struggling to breathe. She whimpered again when the man pulled her close, using her as a shield against her father’s assault.
The man next to Vlad straightened, lifting one hand to grip his savaged throat. There was a loud report from her father’s rifle, and the man’s eyes suddenly widened. He looked down at his chest. A circle of blood began to bubble from the bullet hole in his heart.
Trescina cried out when Vlad’s hand tightened on her neck as he backed around the side of the truck. Her father dove for cover when Vlad lifted his bleeding arm and fired several shots from his pistol. Trescina’s cat hissed in rage. These men—especially this one—had come to destroy her small, happy family for nothing more than greed.
She erupted in a wild frenzy, raking her back claws down the man’s chest, opening up new deep cuts near the ones she had already inflicted. The man moved to put more space between them, and Trescina took advantage, striking him across his left cheek, leaving four lines of deep cuts from his cheekbone to his chin.
He opened his hand and dropped her. When she landed on the ground, he shot out his booted foot and struck her in the side, sending her flying back against the heated stone of her burnt home. Trescina lifted her head and watched with dazed eyes as the man named Vlad jumped into the truck that had been left running.
She flinched when rock, snow, and grit from the spinning back tires struck her face and chest. She struggled to her feet and shifted back to human form. She staggered on trembling legs over to her mother where she lay panting. Dropping to her knees, she bent over her mother’s limp body as her father slid to a stop and knelt beside her.
“Oh, my beautiful love. You must hold on,” her father pleaded softly in Russian as he moved his hand to the deep wound on her side. “Please, my love.”
Trescina caressed the soft fur of her mother’s face with trembling hands. Her father’s words passed over her numb mind as he frantically tried to stem the blood flowing from her mother’s side. Tears blurred her vision when her mother’s body shimmered, and she shifted into her human form.
“Momma,” Trescina choked as she ran her fingers along her mother’s cheek.
“Trescina… where’s… Katarina?” her mother forced out in a voice filled with pain.
Trescina reached down and grabbed her mother’s hand. She pressed the back of her mom’s cold fingers against her damp cheek. She released a trembling breath as she fought to answer.
“She’s safe. I hid her down near the river,” Trescina responded in a soft, tearful voice.
Her mother pulled her hand free and reached for the chain around her neck. When the necklace caught under her mother’s shirt, Trescina reached down and helped her pull it out.
“Take it,” her mother ordered.
Trescina looked at her mother in confusion for a moment before she clumsily unhooked the clasp and pulled it free. She held the glowing red gem between the palms of her hands. Looking up at her father, she silently begged him for help.
“Ivan…,” her mother’s voice was barely audible.
Trescina watched her father scoot closer and grip her mother’s hand. Tears coursed down his face as he lifted the pale fingers to his lips. His own hands were stained with her blood.
“Protect them…. My people…,” her mother whispered.
Ivan nodded. “I will, my love. I will protect them with my life. Your people will always be safe,” he vowed.
A tender smile curved her mother’s lips before she turned and looked at Trescina again. A flash of pain swept across her face, and she tried to draw in a breath. Trescina could see the light fading from her mother’s eyes.
“You must… keep our secret. Our people….” her mother’s voice faded to silence as she released her last breath.
“Momma,” Trescina cried.
She bent forward and pressed her cold cheek to her mother’s. Harsh sobs made it hard to catch her breath. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and rocked back and forth, calling for her.
“Momma…,” another soft voice called.
Trescina lifted her head and looked at Katarina. She must have felt their mother’s passing. Their father turned and held out his arms. Katarina ran forward with a sob.
“I’m so sorry, Mia. I should have been here,” their father muttered as he cradled Katarina in his arms. “I will protect our daughters. I swear I will protect them with my life.”
* * *
Vladimir Mirvo pressed the smooth sleeve of his worn brown leather jacket against his ravaged cheek. A low curse escaped him when he felt the sting of his ripped flesh. The tiger cub’s claws were like razor blades. They had laid his flesh open as smoothly as a surgeon’s scalpel. The damn cat had inflicted wounds on his face and chest that he would carry for the rest of his life.
He tightened his right hand on the steering wheel of the truck when its back-end started to slide. He fought for control of the bulky vehicle on the slushy, mud-covered road. He eased back on the accelerator to keep from losing control. Vlad shot a quick look at the side mirror to see if he had put enough distance between himself and the man who had unexpectedly appeared. Now several hundred feet from the house, he released an irritated sigh. He was the only man out of a team of five to survive what should have been a simple mission.
He grimaced in pain when he hit a deep rut, jarring his body and reminding him again of the deep cuts to his chest. Mud splashed over the hood and coated the windshield and side windows, nearly blocking his view of the slippery road in front of him. With an impatient flick of his wrist, he turned on the windshield wiper. Globs of mud smeared across the already dirty glass, creating half-moon streaks that allowed him limited visibility.
He reached down and gripped the window crank.
He turned the lever and quickly rolled the window down so that he could see behind him. In the reflection, he saw the blond-haired man who had shot two of his men kneeling next to the large tiger that had attacked them shortly after they had arrived. He started to refocus on the road when it hit him that there was something odd about the scene behind him.
He eased up on the gas pedal, opened the window, and wiped at the side mirror. He ignored the pain that exploded through his cheek when the frigid wind swept across the open wounds. He stared at the image reflecte
d in the mirror. A young, dark-haired girl was bent over the still figure of the large, black cat. When he had first glanced in the mirror as he pulled away, there had been the tiger cub next to the tiger.
He cursed when he glanced up at where he was driving just in time to see the narrow road wind to the left. He jerked the steering wheel in time to make the turn, and could now no longer see what he wanted to in the mirror. Slamming on the brakes, he shifted the truck into park and grabbed the binoculars from the floorboard between the two front seats.
He pulled the door handle and practically fell out of the truck in his haste. Running up the side of the slope, he fell to his stomach and lifted the binoculars to his eyes. He swept over the field of vision until he narrowed in on the house that he had set on fire when they first arrived.
Vlad followed the ground from the edge of the house until he found what he was searching for. The man knelt beside the body of the large cat. Adjusting the focus, he moved to the dark, curly-haired little girl who was bending over the tiger.
Confusion swept over him. Where was the tiger cub? Where had the little girl come from? It had not been long enough for a girl to appear and a tiger to disappear—not by conventional means. There had been something off about this from the beginning. Adjusting the focus on the binoculars again, he returned his attention to the injured black tiger. A sudden wave of shock and disbelief swept through him. Instead of the tiger, a woman lay between the man and child now. He focused on the woman. He could see blood staining her clothing.
“Impossible!” he muttered.
He cursed in frustration at not being able to get a clearer view. A shiver ran through him when he saw the little girl lift something between her hands. He pulled the binoculars away and looked at the snow when he felt a drop of liquid fall from his chin. Bright red blood stained the pristine white, reminding him of the sharp claws that had raked his cheek.