by Leslie Chase
2
Tigers in the Dark
Back in the cell, Lenore paced. The guards pushed her inside without ceremony, slamming the door after her. This time she’d taken a look at the door itself - the wood was a thin layer over a metal core, and there was no way she was going to break out of it.
Now that she’d started crying it was hard for her to get the tears under control. Why didn’t I just stay with Maxwell? He told me that I was in danger. But, no, I had to go and leave and get myself into this mess!
She tried to keep in mind the reasons she’d left, but while they still seemed valid, they weren’t worth this. On the other hand, Maxwell and Penelope had both seemed to think that she would be safe to go home, they’d assured her that they had protections in place to stop anyone finding her at Walters House, and bodyguards were waiting in London. Fat lot of good that had done her.
Anger at the two of them flashed through her, but she recognized it as a pointless anger. It had been her choice to leave, after all, and none of them thought something like this might happen as a result.
She tried to put all of that out of her mind and think. There wasn’t much time. Something had gone wrong to land her in this place and, unless something changed, she wouldn’t make it out alive.
Confined in this cell, though, she couldn’t see what she could do about it. Perhaps, if she’d been MacGyver or the A-Team, she’d have been able to fashion a weapon from the bedsprings or something, but she had no idea how to even start that.
There was only one thing she could think of to try, and it sounded ridiculous to her as soon as she thought about it. She wasn’t ready to accept magic yet, even if she had no other explanation for the things she’d seen. Lacking anything better to do, she lay back on the bed and tried to quiet her mind.
Maxwell said we were linked, that we were fated mates, she told herself. If that’s true, maybe I can follow that connection, and help him find me? The only problem was that she had no idea how to do that. Or if it was even possible.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember Maxwell. His presence, his smile, the feel of his skin, the scent of him. It was easier than she’d thought it would be to conjure his image, almost as though he were in the room with her, as though she could reach out and touch him. But not the Maxwell the man. She could almost hear the tiger’s paws on the concrete floor, his heavy steps circling the bed - ridiculous, she knew, the room was barely large enough for the bed itself, let alone a tiger. But with her eyes shut, it was easy to believe he was there.
She should have been scared by a giant predator like that, but instead it made her feel as though everything was going to be alright. As though all she needed to do was wait, and he’d save her. She willed him to hurry, hoping against hope that this was real. That he could feel her call.
Come quickly, Maxwell, I don’t think I have long, she thought desperately, hearing noises outside the room. Footsteps approached. Keys jangled - her time was running out - the distraction made it harder to focus on the tiger. Before he faded completely, she swore she heard a deep rumbling purring growl from him. It sounded at once threatening and encouraging. Angry, but not with her. And it sounded close.
She opened her eyes just as the light went out with a bang.
Lenore bit back a scream. The sudden darkness was a complete blanket of blackness. She couldn’t see anything. Through the door she heard a muffled curse, someone fumbling with the keys to her cell, trying to find the lock. Had the lights failed outside as well? Lenore stood as quietly as she could, pressing her back to the brick wall beside the door.
It seemed like a slim chance, but maybe she could slip past the guards in the darkness. What she’d do then was a mystery to her, but she could at least try to get away. Lenore was sure she could find her way to the stairs. It seemed unlikely that she’d even make it that far, so she didn’t want to plan any further ahead.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a scream. It cut off sharply.
For the first time, Lenore considered the possibility that this wasn’t a fuse failing. The chance that this might be a rescue, or at least an attack on Sir Daniel and his men. Did that mean that Maxwell was here? Her heart leapt at the thought.
Gunshots boomed somewhere outside, sending an icy chill through her. Fear chased out the elation at the thought of Maxwell coming to rescue her. He could get hurt, or worse! Lenore tried to keep her mind off that possibility, but there was nothing to distract her from it. What if the worst happened? Sir Daniel’s men had been prepared to fight shifters back when they robbed the museum, surely they’d still be armed with silver bullets now?
She couldn’t think of anything worse than the image of Maxwell, bleeding and dying in a futile attempt to rescue her. Biting her lip, she tried to focus on something positive. In the darkness on her own there wasn’t anything else, and she couldn’t shake the thought – his beautiful body torn apart by silver bullets, dying trying to reach her.
Outside the cell, someone cursed. There was a strange wet tearing noise. A short cry of pain. Then a heavy silence that seemed to last forever.
At last, the silence was broken by the scratching of the key seeking the door’s lock, finding it, and turning. Lenore froze, fear turning her veins to ice. Was this a rescue, or her attackers coming for her again? The door opened inwards, and Lenore forced herself to make a choice, launching herself at the doorway, trying to barge through the darkness.
Her shoulder hit a man’s torso, which might as well have been a cliff for all the give it had in it. Strong arms closed around her as she rebounded, holding her tight, lifting her and squeezing. For a brief moment terror had her, and she squeaked in panic. Then she recognized the feel of the arms around her, the strong grip, the manly scent of the person holding her.
“Maxwell!”
He laughed. A sound of pure relief, joy, and shock. “Lenore! I might have known you’d hit me as soon as I found you!”
She couldn’t help laughing at that, and for a moment everything else was forgotten as they held each other. Lenore buried her face in his neck and Maxwell enfolded her in his strong arms. It took her a moment to realize that he was naked. That she was pressed against his bare skin. She held him closer, trying to lose herself in him.
“I’m sorry, so sorry I left,” she started, hating the way she was babbling but unable to stop herself. He chuckled, a sound she felt through her whole body as his chest vibrated against her.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I am the one who needs to apologize! I should have kept you safe, and I failed you.” His arms squeezed powerfully, making her gasp. “I will make that up to you, I promise, but for now I just need to get you out of here. It’s not safe yet.”
He swung her up so that she was cradled against his chest, bending to kiss her lips forcefully. “Now please keep quiet, this bit is going to be a little tricky.”
He turned and carried her out of the cell, managing somehow to fit her through the doorway without hitting her against the frame in the dark. She almost protested that she could walk, but bit down on the words and kept her peace. She didn’t want him to let go of her ever again. Besides, she could guess what was on the floor outside the door, and really didn’t want to step on the guards.
That didn’t seem to bother Maxwell, and he made his way confidently down the hallway, only slowing as he came to the stairwell. Above, there were more gunshots, more shouts, and Lenore thought that she could smell something burning. She clung tighter to Maxwell’s neck, trying not to think about the surrounding chaos.
The smell of smoke got stronger as they ascended the stairs, and it became an effort not to cough. Lenore struggled to keep her breathing quiet, and Maxwell paused at the top of the stairwell. Ahead of them, Lenore heard people moving in a hurried confusion. A torch lit, a bright spear of light shining briefly through the smoky darkness, flickering sideways over the chalk-lined floor.
For a moment, the light framed a tiger’s face, mouth open wide, amber eyes shining.
Then a mighty paw lashed across the beam, smashing into the hand holding the torch and sending it spinning off to clatter against a wall. A rumbling roar and a scream filled the room, and then gunshots as the guards opened fire at the monster in their midst.
Lenore stared into the room, muzzle flashes puncturing the darkness but not giving her any chance to see what was going on in the maelstrom filling the chamber. Another cry of pain, someone shouting “Stop shooting” another voice, more surprised than anything else, saying “Fuck, I’m hit.”
“Hold your fire, you buffoons!” Lenore recognized that voice as Sir Daniel’s, speaking in the clear-cut tone of someone used to instant obedience and annoyed at the stupidity of his minions. “You’re only shooting each other! This is why you have your blasted knives!”
The gunshots ceased, and Maxwell stepped out of the cover of the stairwell edging around the room. One step at a time, careful and slow, he carried Lenore into the darkness. Around them, she could hear others moving with equal stealth, given away by the occasional sound of fabric brushing across fabric, or a tile shifting underfoot. The tiger, wherever it was, made no sound at all, and Lenore found it all the more frightening for that.
She, not it, Lenore told herself. It had to be Penelope, after all, come with her brother to rescue her. Her heart lifted in gratitude, but she couldn’t keep away the fear of being in a confined space with a tiger like this. Well, if I’m scared of her, how much worse must it be for these guys, she thought, a little vindictively. Another shriek of pain filled the room, interrupting her thoughts, and she shuddered, holding Maxwell tighter and wanting nothing more than to be away from here.
Then Maxwell slipped through another door into a side corridor, and they left the confusion behind them. Moving carefully through the pitch blackness, Maxwell made his way along a corridor to another door, beyond which was, finally, light.
It was a dim, greenish light, cast by chemical glowtubes scattered on the floor, but it was at least steady and bright enough for Lenore to see by, and Maxwell put her down carefully. It took her a moment to be able to relax her grip on his neck.
“It’s nearly over,” he said, quietly and firmly, reaching up to gently lift her hands from him. “But we can’t stop here for long. Whoever those people are, they are professionals, and they won’t be confused for long.”
Lenore tried to relax, but it was difficult to keep her breathing steady. Her heart pounded in panic. Stepping back, she leant against the wall unsteadily leaning and looked around. They were in a broad stairwell, the kind she was familiar with from plenty of London Underground stations. Was this a disused station? She’d heard that there were a few of those around London, and one might make a good hiding place. There was a switchbox open on the wall, the wiring inside cut through, and a couple of backpacks beside it.
Maxwell grabbed clothes from one of those, dressing quickly in a simple dark outfit. Glancing at his watch as he strapped it on, he frowned. “We have to get moving, Lenore. At the top of the stairs it’s just a few steps to the car. Are you okay to walk? I’d rather have my hands free just in case, but if you need to be carried I’ll manage.”
“I’ll be fine,” Lenore promised, swallowing and pushing herself off the wall. The panic was receding at the thought that she was nearly safe, but she couldn’t help wondering whether she’d ever be safe again.
As though seeing the fear on her face, Maxwell stepped forwards, taking her in his arms again. His heart was a deep slow rhythm against her as he held her head to his chest, one hand in her hair the other on her back. She struggled not to burst into tears, but the closeness of him lent her strength.
“Lenore, listen to me,” he said, voice deep, authoritative. “You need to understand this - I will keep you safe. This is not going to keep happening to you, do you hear me?”
A little sob escaped her, and she clung to him for a second before answering. “Yes, yes I hear you.”
His powerful arms squeezed again, and then released her. “Good. Now let’s go.”
He took her by the hand and pulled her up the broad stairs to a bricked up archway with a small door set in it. Maxwell pushed the door open and stepped out, tension showing in his controlled stride, his hands flexing as though ready to grab an enemy. Lenore didn’t envy anyone hostile standing on the far side of the door.
Bright sunlight blinded her as she followed him, and she stumbled. His hand took hers again and guided her to a large black SUV parked a few feet down the road. She blinked against the light, seeing figures moving on the street around them, but no one tried to stop them and in moments they were in the backseat, the heavy door shutting behind them.
In the front seats, there were a pair of serious-looking men who didn’t turn to look at their new passengers. Their eyes were constantly moving, scanning the street around the car for trouble. Lenore looked around too, but it just seemed like a normal London street, a few pedestrians going about their day unaware of the battle being fought beneath their feet.
For the first time since she’d woken, she felt like she might be safe. Relief flooded through her, and she gasped, panting for air and clutching at Maxwell, shaking as he held her tight. He was saying something she couldn’t make out over the sounds of her own breathing. Something soothing and reassuring, she thought, and the words didn’t matter nearly as much as his presence, his solid muscle and warmth like an anchor holding her to safety.
She had no idea how long they sat like that. Probably no longer than a minute or two, but it could have been seconds or hours for all she knew. A loud bang outside the car shook her out of it. Looking up in surprise, she saw smoke billowing from around the plain, unmarked door they’d emerged from.
The driver put the car into gear, the other man in front getting out and holding the door open as the smoke billowed. Out of the smoldering battlefront dashed a naked Penelope, carrying the second backpack Lenore had seen below. She threw something back into the cloud of smoke and leapt headlong into the back seat of the SUV as a dull crump sounded from the stairs.
“Drive!” she ordered as the car door slammed shut behind her, and the SUV pulled away from the curb, smoothly accelerating.
“Do you think you could have been a little less dramatic on the exit, sis?” Maxwell asked, shaking his head. “The last thing we need is for footage of your naked dash for the car to make it onto the news.”
“I didn’t exactly have the time to change,” she replied with a broad grin. Lenore shivered, realizing that the other woman was enjoying herself. “They were right behind me when I set off the incendiaries, and it was a close enough thing as it was.”
It was only then that Lenore noticed the blood streaked down Penelope’s arms and side, and gasped.
“Oh, this? Don’t worry, honey, it’s not my blood,” Penelope assured her, opening her pack and pulling out first a towel to clean up, and then clothes to slip into. Seconds later, wearing a black t-shirt and yoga pants, she sat back with a satisfied look on her face. “Didn’t Maxwell promise to take care of you, Lenore? He may be a bit of an ass sometimes, but we Walters keep our word.”
Lenore smiled back, shakily, feeling weak as the shock of her rescue sunk in. She sat back, trying to breathe deeply and get her body under control. Maxwell’s strong arm circled her shoulders, holding her to him, and that made everything a little bit better. She pressed herself to him, drawing strength from his solid presence, and from the fact that every second carried them further from the madman who’d held her prisoner.
It seemed unreal that they’d only been apart a few hours, but she realized how much she’d missed him in that awful time. She thought that she’d never see him again. Now that they were together again, Lenore couldn’t imagine ever letting go of him.
3
Home Sweet Home
An hour later, they arrived Lenore’s apartment. She’d been shocked when she’d realized where they were going, but Maxwell had pointed out that he’d already sent a security team there to watc
h it. Nowhere else in London would be as safe.
“Whatever our opponent is capable of, I doubt he wants to be dragged into a shootout in South London. It would make all the newspapers,” Maxwell had said with confidence that Lenore didn’t feel was quite justified. “And with security on site, he can’t expect to achieve anything quietly.”
Lenore was dubious – he had sent armed men to attack them in a hotel, after all, and having spoken to the man, she didn’t think he would limit himself to rational responses. She didn’t have anything better to suggest, though, and she had to trust that Maxwell and Penelope knew what they were doing. She was more than glad to leave the decisions in their hands.
The street was quiet when they pulled up outside her building. One of Maxwell’s guards got out first, surveying the area before opening the door for them and letting them out of the SUV. Lenore was immediately ashamed of her home, looking at the rundown neighborhood, so distant from the perfectly tended home the Walters were used to.
“I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Penelope said, waving from the back of the car as they got out. “Look after her, Max. I’m going to see if I can find out more about our nemesis.”
Lenore had told them what little she knew about Sir Daniel on the way, and Penelope didn’t look like she wanted to waste any time getting on his trail. Maxwell nodded and waved back. “Don’t do anything without me, sis. Remember, this man’s dangerous.”
“I promise, Maxwell,” Penelope said, crossing her heart. “I’ll just be making some phone calls and asking some questions, don’t worry about me. Now quit standing in the street and get Lenore home!”
With that, she pulled the door shut, ending the conversation. Maxwell sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, offering Lenore his arm. “You see what I have to deal with?”
