Tiger Magic (Shifters Unbound #5)(31)
Author: Jennifer Ashley

Ellison, in the front, was likewise slumped, the steering wheel propping him up. His face sported bruises, but he too breathed.

Tiger braced himself on the side of the car, leaned back in through the window, and wrapped his arms around Carly’s torso. He pulled her out, trying to be gentle, but needing to get her out.

He lifted her once he got her clear of the car and laid her on the grass about ten yards away. At least the grass was dry, warm from the morning sun, which was beaming brightly.

Tiger went back for Ellison. Ellison was Shifter and strong—he’d come around quickly—but Tiger had learned from Connor the dangers from gas or other liquids leaking from a car. Best to get away from the wreck until they knew it was safe.

He was halfway back to the car when the driver of the black SUV, which had stopped, got out and came toward them. For a second, Tiger thought the man was Walker, but quickly realized that he wasn’t. This man wore black, like Walker, and he had a similar build and close-shaved hair, but the scent was wrong.

Like Walker, the man carried a gun. Tiger didn’t know much about guns, but the one he’d broken apart last night had looked lethal, and so did this one. The man looked for a moment at Tiger, then turned and made directly for Carly.

Tiger became the Bengal in the space of three seconds. He was too far from the man, who was raising the black, square-looking gun to aim at Carly.

Tiger changed direction and sprinted for Carly. His tiger was faster than any other Shifter he’d encountered, and he landed on Carly just as the first bullets left the gun.

He felt the bullets enter him, pain blossoming, reawakening yesterday’s wounds. Unlike the slow bangs of Ethan’s pistol, though, this pistol shot so fast Tiger couldn’t count the retorts. He only prayed the bullets didn’t go through his thick tiger body and into Carly.

“Hey!” Ellison’s yell cut through the pain. “Aw, shit!”

Two more flat shots sounded, one clanking on the car, the other thudding with a meaty sound as it went into Ellison. The shooter walked to Tiger, Tiger smelling him coming.

Walked. Deliberately. Slowly. He reached Tiger where he lay dazed and in pain, dusty black boots halting by Tiger’s head. The man didn’t shoot. He stopped, watched, waited.

Then two more bullets went into Tiger’s back. Tiger gave up trying to know anything and let himself succumb to darkness.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Tiger.”

Tiger heard Carly’s voice as he rose toward consciousness, toward a mountain of pain that waited for him. They’d shot him in the basement of the research facility, repeatedly, to see how much he could take, but they at least let him rest between bullets.

“Sean.” Ellison was nearby, voice heavy. “I think you’re gonna have to bring the sword. No, not for me. For Tiger.”

Tiger heard the exclamation on the other end of Ellison’s cell phone, which must have survived the crash and the shooting. The thing was as resilient as Tiger.

“He’s waking up,” Ellison said. “Who the hell was that?”

“Hell if I know.” Carly’s voice held tears, and two hot droplets fell onto Tiger’s face. “I don’t care right now. He’s still alive. Thank God.”

Carly’s lips touched his cheek. Tiger tried to pucker his in response, showing her how much he’d learned. She didn’t stop weeping, so he must not have done very well.

“Tiger, honey, don’t move,” Carly said. “We’ll get you to a hospital. You’ll be all right.”

“I don’t know,” Ellison said. “He’s amazing, but that was about fifteen rounds from an automatic weapon. It has to have torn him apart inside.”

“Don’t say that. He’s strong. He’s a fighter.”

“We’ll help him the best we can, trust me.”

“Hang on, Tiger. Hang on.”

Carly’s light touch slid through Tiger’s pain, making his heart beat harder, his lungs draw breath. The pain became incandescent then, but Tiger was breathing, functioning. He might not need the Sword of the Guardian yet.

An odd custom, the working part of Tiger’s brain thought. The Guardian’s sword pierced the heart of the dead Shifter, or the dying one, releasing the soul and turning the body to dust. The legend, Sean had told him, said that the Sword had been created to save Shifters’ souls from a nasty, evil Fae prince. The Shifters’ bodies had crumbled to dust, and the souls of the enslaved Shifters had been released, freed to go to the Summerland. The story reassured all Shifters that, though they might be enslaved during life, they never would be in death.

Tiger had been enslaved until last winter—he hadn’t known about the seasons even to know what winter was. Now he was free, at least as free as he could be. He lived under Liam’s watchful eye, had to wear a fake Collar to fool humans into thinking he was still enslaved, and had few remote places in which he could run flat out as a tiger, but it was better than what he’d had.

But now he wanted more. Freedom to be with his mate. The joy of running until he wanted to stop. Tiger was tired of being feared. Mistrusted. In pain. Afraid.

“Carly.” Tiger barely moved his lips, but the sound of his mate’s name gave him strength.

He needed to live, so he could be with her. Forty years of hell had coalesced into the moment he’d seen her backside sticking out of the red car, heard her voice, felt her smile. He’d start believing in the Goddess if he thought she’d known to bring Tiger to the road at the exact moment Carly Randal needed help.

“Carly.”

“Don’t talk. Don’t move.” Carly bent over Tiger, her face streaked with tears. “We’re going to help you. They’re coming.”

“I don’t need . . .”

Talking was too much effort. Keeping his mouth shut was a good idea.

Time must have passed, because more people were now kneeling around him. He’d expected to hear sirens. Humans loved their sirens.

“His breathing is good,” Dylan said above him. “Andrea.”

A smooth, feminine hand pressed to Tiger’s chest, palm flat. He smelled Andrea’s strange half-Shifter scent, the subtler scent of her cub clinging to her. Tiger hoped the boy had been left safely at home. That’s what Shiftertowns were good for. Keeping the cubs safe.

Sean knelt near his mate, the vibrant hum of the Sword of the Guardian shimmering. Tiger had always been able to hear it, though Sean had said that was unusual.