by Josie Walker
Her mouth dropped open in horror as the tiger lunged at one the men, biting down savagely on his throat and sending a geyser of red blood shooting into the air. Then the rest of the men started shifting as well, well everyone but the two guys who were kneeling anyway. The guy who still had his throat intact was too busy screaming his head off.
When the entire pride of shifter tigers turned in unison to look at her she realized it wasn’t the man who was screaming, it had been her all along. “I’m so not making it out of here alive,” she wailed as she turned and started running without a backwards glance. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” She’d seen enough nature documentaries to know that the antelope never survives a nasty game of tiger tag.
She spotted the lights of an approaching bus and practically flung herself through the open door in her eagerness to get the heck out of there. Only once she was seated did she dare risk a glance out the window. What she saw made her blood run cold. If it weren’t for the fact that she was already dehydrated she just might have peed her pants right there on the bus seat.
A brutishly tall man with a thick mane of chestnut brown hair was staring at her. There was no ignoring those piercing yellow eyes, because they were staring straight at her, as if he was committing her face to memory.
At first Michelle couldn’t understand why he wasn’t trying to get on the bus, but then she realized that he probably wouldn’t want any witnesses for what he had planned for her. She wondered if he’d be waiting to pounce whenever she got off. He wasn’t sitting on the bench, and he still hadn’t made any move to get on the bus. He raised his arm in a mock salute and she saw that he was holding a small scrap of paper. He held the paper up to his nose and took a deep wiff, and his eyes rolled back in his head as though he was overwhelmed with pleasure. Her spirits plummeted as she put two and two together. He was holding the claims receipt from the dry cleaners, the one that had blown down the alley from her bag.
It would only be a matter of time before they tracked her from the dry cleaners back to where she lived. These weren’t the type of men who were afraid of a little breaking and entering. These weren’t the type of men whose questions people would dare to refuse. She quickly weighed her options.
She wanted nothing more than to go running straight to the police, but deep down she knew that they would NEVER believe her if she told them that a gang of men had shifted into a snarling pack of furry orange and black tigers. Nope, that conversation was bound to get her locked up in an institution. She’d seen every single one of those Terminator movies, and she knew exactly where telling the truth had landed Sarah Connor, the nut house.
It would have been great to go home and pack up her scant belongings, but she was afraid to risk it. There had been so many tigers. They could be waiting for her anywhere. Once again the fact that she couldn’t afford a car of her own seemed downright unfair.
When the bus stopped a few yards away from a Greyhound bus terminal she assumed it was divine providence and scampered off right away. She only had ninety bucks to her name, so when she saw that going to Grayslake would only cost seventy dollars she knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Even better, the bus was leaving in exactly ten minutes. She gazed longingly at the vending machines while she waited, trying to ignore the sickly growling sounds coming from her stomach. She’d missed the most important meal of the day… and every other meal that followed. It would have been so easy to blow a buck fifty on a bag of chips, but she only had twenty dollars to her name, and who knew what would be waiting for her when she arrived in Grayslake. “Stupid me for not having any freaking credit cards,” she muttered to herself.
It was supposed to be a sixteen and a half hour drive so she looped her backpack around her arm and then laid down on it as if it was a pillow. Correction, it was the world’s hardest most uncomfortable pillow, but at least this way no one could try to steal her stuff while she was sleeping. As things played out comfort wasn’t her only problem. She was so worked up that she found sleep to be an unruly dragon. She just couldn’t fight her way in.
How could she sleep when she was finding it impossible to shut off her brain? Said brain kept reminding her how she didn’t have any money. She doubted her landlord would wait so much as a week before he sent in a crew to move out all her crap and repaint. He’d no doubt send all of her worldly belongings to the local thrift store without even feeling conflicted about it.
She couldn’t believe that after all her years of sacrifice she would be starting over again from scratch. She wanted to scream and rage at the injustice of it all. More specifically she wanted to tear Grace a new one. After all, her junkie roommate was the reason she’d been in that alley in the first place.
All of a sudden Michelle panicked and bolted upright in her seat. “When they go looking for me they will find Grace,” she whispered, horrified. She speedily shot off yet another desperate text to Grace, even though her foster sister hadn’t responded to any of her earlier attempts at communication.
Grace. Don’t go home. People are trying to kill me. This isn’t a joke. I’m serious. It’s not safe there.
She stared numbly at the screen long after it went black, feeling uneasy and more than a little worried. Grace was the closest thing she’d ever had to family, and she honestly didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to her foster sister.
CHAPTER THREE
When the bus came to a sudden stop she was surprised, because as far as she could tell they were smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t even look like it was an official Greyhound bus stop. She was the only one getting off, so she asked the driver once more and he assured her that this was indeed her stop.
She descended into rural USA and felt the immediate and overwhelming desire to run back to the bus driver and beg him to let her back on. But the bus had already sped off by the time she turned around. The afternoon heat was brutal which only exacerbated her thirst. Soon it would be night and she had nowhere to go. It would have been so easy to just roll up into a ball and give in to the pity party of the century, but that just wasn’t in her nature. It was time to find herself a new job.
Over four hours later she was right back where she’d started, hungry, thirsty, and still unemployed. She hadn’t thought it would be this hard to land a job, yet apparently not a single business in town was hiring. “Stupid small towns,” she thought ungenerously.
She plopped down on a bench and tried to find a passably comfortable position but she wasn’t having much luck in that department. It was dark out so she was hoping that no one could see her. She didn’t want to be the focus of anyone’s pity. What she needed was a job, not a handout.
‘You can’t sleep there,” called a gruff voice from across the street. It seemed as though her run of bad luck was far from being over.
Michelle turned her head to the side and snorted irritably. Of course the stranger would have to be hot, because somehow the fact that he was OOZING sexuality made her desperate situation seem ten times worse. Even in the fading light she could detect his strong chiseled male features. There was a faint stubble dotting his face, and his chin had a wickedly handsome cleft in it.
The man’s hair was so thick that she wouldn’t have been surprised if a camera crew showed up and started shooting a Pantene shampoo commercial. It was a light brown with blond highlights, and as she was staring at him the breeze picked it up from where it rested at shoulder level and blew it out around him making him look even more like an underwear model.
He looked to be in his mid to late thirties, which would have made him perfect for her. But that was assuming she was crazy enough to think that any man that gorgeous would ever bother to give her so much as a second glance, which she wasn’t. His tight white t-shirt could barely contain the bulging muscles of his deliciously ripped arms. If the man wasn’t at least six feet tall she needed to get her vision checked.
&n
bsp; “I said you can’t sleep there,” he repeated arrogantly.
“And then he had to ruin it by speaking,” she whined as she turned away from him and pressed her palm over her eyes in frustration. She muttered softly to herself, “Stupid freaking men morphing into freaking tigers, and now I’ve lost everything and I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere and I’m probably going to die of starvation, or worse, be mauled by animals. And now I’m being rudely lectured by a dumb model with a God complex.”
Trying in vain to keep her dress from riding up because she didn’t want to flash him her underwear she wiggled stiffly into an upright position. She stood suddenly, but didn’t manage more than two steps before she passed out. The summer heat combined with nothing to eat or drink in over twenty-four hours had finally caught up with her. If she’d still been conscious she’d been mortified about passing out, even if it was from heat stroke.
***
Parker Holmes lurched across the street, letting his inner animal lend him an extra dose of speed. He managed to snatch her just before she hit the ground, pulling her easily into his arms as though she were a small child and not a full figured woman. He gazed in wonder down at the beautiful creature in his arms, feeling as though she had materialized out of thin air.
When his parents had ordered him to come home he’d been less than thrilled about the visit, but he’d come all the same. Now he found himself in a bit of a pickle. Thanks to his extraordinary hearing, enhanced auditory function being just one of the many perks of being a bear shifter, he’d heard every single word she’d just muttered under her breath.
While being labeled a dumb model was offensive he could easily have ignored the insult. But she’d said so much more when she’d thought he couldn’t hear her.
His bear sniffed deeply, savoring the unique aroma that was hers and hers alone. He knew what he had to do now, the shifter law was abundantly clear on the subject. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel conflicted about it!
Humans weren’t allowed to know about shifters as that knowledge would threaten their whole way of life. For whatever reason she had learned of their kind, and now she would be faced with two drastic choices. She would have to mate with an unclaimed shifter or die a swift death.
His bear snarled fiercely at him, violently opposed to the thought of anyone harming this lovely bundle of curves. It didn’t make any sense, but for whatever reason his bear kept roaring MINE inside his head. It didn’t matter that she was a total stranger, or that he didn’t even know her name. He’d learned a long time ago that it wasn’t wise to deny his inner beast, because the bear was generally right.
Parker glanced around in order to ensure that no one was watching as he reached down to snag her backpack by a strap. Then he strode across the public green space until he reached where he’d parked his truck on the other side. He opened the door and reclined the seat, situating her carefully on the rich black leather as though she were a priceless and fragile collectible. Before he turned the key in the ignition he shot off a quick text message to his sister Sophia.
Tell mom I’m bringing home a guest… and that she’ll be taking the room next to MINE.
He didn’t even realize that he’d capitalized all the letters in mine. It was just his beast declaring it’s claim on the human. While he navigated the short distance to his parents’ home he studied her profile out of the corner of his eye. A few minutes ago he’d been dreading going home. He was sick of receiving lectures from his mother about her unendurable lack of grandchildren.
Over the years he’d heard enough about his parents’ fairy tale romance. He was sick to death of hearing about “fated mates” and “true love.” As a teenager he’d considered pouring bleach down his ears at one point to block out the sounds of just how “in love” they were, but his Uncle Isaac had managed to talk him out of that ill-formed plan.
He’d never doubted that his parents were deeply in love, but somehow he’d never expected to find such a love for himself. Before tonight he’d never met a woman who could please both him and his bear, but now he felt as though everything had changed. He’d never been one to back away from a difficult situation, which was a good thing. Because now he was about to face down the biggest challenge of his adult life. He was going to convince this woman that he was indeed the man for her. Because his bear would never willingly let her go.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bacon… she smelled bacon. Before she could even get excited about the delicious aroma she remembered that she was flat broke. She opened her eyes slowly, preparing to psych herself up to face yet another crappy day. The moment she saw her surroundings she was instantly confused, because instead of the wide open sky above her there was a white plastered ceiling. Equally concerning was the fact that she was no longer on the hard park bench. No, she was in some stranger’s bed.
She performed a careful scan of the room, attempting to absorb every detail from the Country Bear Jamboree bedspread to the extensive Lego collection on the table in the corner. This bedroom had all the marking of a child’s room, so where was the kid? A loud argument erupted somewhere else in the house so she decided that sneaking out before she had any awkward encounters was probably her best move.
Spying her backpack and shoes near the door, she tried not to make a sound as she made her way over to them. She looped the pack over her shoulder, slipped on her sneakers, and carefully turned the knob. She winced when the unoiled hinges let out a little squeak as she opened the door, but thanks to the shouting no one seemed to notice.
She was no dummy, so she headed in the opposite direction of all the yelling, which just so happened to be the area where all the heavenly breakfast smells were emanating from. She paused in the open doorway, noting straight away that the kitchen was already occupied. A trim elderly woman with white hair pulled back in a clip and an apron tied around her waist was leaning over a sink full of dirty dishes, sunk up to her elbows in soapy water.
Just beyond the stooped elderly woman was a screened porch door, which meant that there were only ten steps standing between her and her freedom. She took small careful steps, praying that the floor wouldn’t squeak and betray her presence. She was halfway there when her stomach betrayed her by growling loudly. The woman didn’t so much as turn her head or pause in her scrubbing as she spoke.
“Why don’t you have a seat and fix yourself a plate. They’ll be done arguing soon enough.”
Michelle stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move in either direction now that she’d been caught.
“I’m Gigi by the way. I do the cookin’ round here.”
The woman snorted amusedly when Michelle still hadn’t answered her, let alone moved towards the table. She dried her hands on a dishtowel and gave her a gentle nudge towards the table. Then Gigi heaped a plate full of bacon, eggs, and french toast and plopped it down on the table in front of her. She eyed the food warily. Granted, she was starving... but these people were strangers. If she didn’t eat her breakfast it would be the start of day three with no food.
She briefly considered the fact that it could be drugged, but the old woman seemed harmless enough. She knew she wasn’t likely to get any other free meal offers while she was busy job hunting, and she somehow doubted that a town this size had a homeless shelter.
“Thank you,” she finally murmured graciously. She seized a crispy piece of bacon and tried not to moan as the rich flavor danced across her taste buds. “How did I get here?” she asked in between bites.
“I just do the cooking,” Gigi replied. “You’ll have to save your questions for the Itan.”
“What’s an Itan?” Michelle asked, wanting to know more about the person who had taken her in.
“The Itan’s the man in charge. He’s also my dad,” replied a husky voice from behind her, a voice that flipped a switch inside her and let all her hormones come out to play at the sa
me time. She swiveled around in her chair and said the first thing that popped into her head.
“You’re the dumb model who made me get off the bench,” she accused him, waving her hands about wildly as it all came flooding back. She found that she was angry and embarrassed all at once.
“Well after you fainted…” he began.
“I’ve never fainted in my life,” she argued standing up to face him and planting both hands firmly on her hips.
“Call it what you will… you passed out and then I carried you here.”
She stared him down as she tried to calculate whether or not he really was strong enough to have carried her ANYWHERE. “Whatever,” she muttered. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m leaving now and I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again anyhow.” When she tried to reach for her backpack he nudged it out of the way and she hissed angrily as she tried to get past him.
“You can’t leave,” he said firmly.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she countered loudly.
“But I can,” growled a big burly man in his sixties. “I’m Ty, and I’m the Itan. You need to pop a squat and start talking about those tigers you saw.”
Her eyes widened in horror as she wondered if these men had somehow been sent by the tigers to find out what she knew. Had they managed to track her down already?
“How do you know about the tigers?” she asked suspiciously.
“I heard you muttering about men shifting into tigers after I said you couldn’t sleep on the park bench,” the dumb model reminded her.
“So what? You thought that gave you the right to kidnap me?” she asked incredulously. “I’m sure none of this is real anyway. People can’t turn into animals,” she lied trying to sneak past the model and make a run for it, but her plan backfired when he snatched her up and planted her on top of his lap.
