White Tiger (A Shifter's Unbound Novel) (3 page)

On the dot of fifteen minutes, Addison rose, signaled the cubs to stay behind her, and softly clicked open the freezer door.

The waft of warm air felt good. She’d never complain about Texas heat again.

Her foot crunched on glass, but other than that, all was silence.

That silence was broken when a man stumbled in through the open back door. He was big and hard-muscled, like Kendrick, but his clothes were in shreds, and blood coated his face and body.

The man saw Addie. He stared at her in great surprise, eyes of a very light blue widening. Then his knees bent, and he sort of folded up and collapsed to the floor, landing on his back. His head made an audible crack on the tile.

Addie started for him. He’d been one of the shooters, she was certain, but he wasn’t armed now. He looked beaten down and pathetic.

Another sound made her look up. Kendrick came through the door, likewise bloody, and he was stark naked.

Kendrick gazed at Addie, and she looked back at him. His green eyes stood out in his dirt-and-blood-streaked face, holding both insane fury and great unhappiness.

Addie heard the tiger cubs and Robbie come out behind her, but the three remained together, huddled against the door of the freezer.

Kendrick and Addie studied each other over the body of the injured man, Addie barely able to breathe.

“Guardian,” the man whispered.

Kendrick dragged his gaze from Addie and moved it down to him. The man looked back up at Kendrick, fear and shame in his eyes. The one word had been a plea.

Kendrick growled in his throat, his fist closing as though he held his sword, though Robbie still had the blade, guarding it across the room.

“You endangered my cubs,” Kendrick said, the rage in his voice making the man on the floor flinch.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would be here with you. Forgive me, Guardian. Take them far away, because more will be coming.”

“How many more?” Kendrick asked him, voice hard. “And why? Why have you turned on me? I put my ass on the line for twenty years making sure you stayed free, no Collars, no Shiftertowns.”

The man shrugged wearily against the floor. “There are at least fifty of us, maybe more. They’re tired of hiding, tired of running.”

“Dying is better?” Kendrick demanded. “Or living imprisoned?”

“We made
ourselves
prisoners. You know we did. We want out.”

Kendrick said nothing. When he looked up at Addie again, she saw stark grief in his eyes, not outrage, that this man, whoever he was, had turned against him. As though the betrayal had been Kendrick’s fault. He flicked his gaze away once more, back to the man at his feet.

“It’s over, my friend,” Kendrick said.

“I know.” The man could barely speak. “I’ve lost. I accept my defeat.”

“Your defeat is your death.”

“I know. Please, Guardian, don’t let me linger here.”

Addie knew she should call the police, an ambulance. She should haul ass to her locker, grab the phone, and call. No way could she or Kendrick save this guy on their own. The man was going into shock, his eyes unfocused, body shivering, breath ragged.

But Addie couldn’t move. She remained fixed in place, staring at the tableau—the bloody man on the floor, Kendrick above him, gazing down at him in anguish.

“Robbie,” Kendrick said, without looking up. He held out his hand.

Robbie immediately lifted the big sword, laying the blade gingerly across his other palm so he wouldn’t drag it on the floor as he carried it to his father. Kendrick gave his son a look of thanks as he closed his hand around the hilt. Robbie backed away as though he knew what Kendrick was about to do.

No!
the thought shrieked in Addie’s head.
No, he can’t just kill this guy . . .

Kendrick dropped to one knee. He put his hand on the man’s forehead, his arm shaking but his bloodstained fingers rock steady. The man’s body relaxed, his eyes softening as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Forgive . . .”

Kendrick gave him a nod, then stroked the man’s hair, as he might do with one of his sons, to comfort him.

“Goddess go with you,” Kendrick said softly.

Then he rose, raised the sword overhead, and plunged the blade into the dying man’s heart.

A
ddie cried out and leapt at Kendrick, but too late. The sword went straight through the man’s chest.

The man grunted in pain, then his eyes cleared, and he looked suddenly happy. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Those were the last words he spoke. His body shimmered with a silvery light and then, before Addie’s eyes, the man dissolved into dust. The dust fell to the floor, swirled into a fine mist, and was gone, out the open door.

“Holy shit, you killed him!”

The words sprang from Addie’s mouth before she could stop them. Kendrick, who’d bowed his head, the sword’s point resting on the floor, looked up at her, his green eyes luminous with tears.

“He gave me no choice,” he said.

“What about the others out there?” Addie’s voice went up a notch. “Did you kill them too?”

Kendrick took one stride to her where she stood frozen and terrified. “You need to go, Addison. Take the cubs to safety for me, as you promised.”

“But—”

“Your police will come. I can’t let them find my sons.
Please.
”

Addison had never heard anything as heartfelt as the plea. Kendrick was afraid, scared for the kids, angry, dangerous.

And naked—had she mentioned that about seven times already? His body was hard and tight, strong, formidable. She kept her eyes averted so she wouldn’t see anything too personal, but
not
looking was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

He was right, though. This was a small town. News traveled fast; any trouble was instantly reported. If Robbie, Zane, and Brett had been normal kids, she wouldn’t worry about the police so much, but they were Shifter, and their dad had just killed a man—possibly all the shooters. She knew enough to realize that cops would take the kids—the cubs—and keep them who knew where. Maybe never let them go again.

Addie looked at them, two little tigers huddled against the older Robbie, the three of them alone and vulnerable.

“Yes,” she found herself babbling. “Yes, I’ll take them.”

“Now,”
Kendrick said, cutting through her stammering. “Robbie.”

“I’m on it, Dad.”

Robbie, small himself, picked up the tiger cubs by the scruffs of their necks. He cradled them against his chest and looked up at Addie in total trust.

Addie felt a brush of air, and when she looked back for Kendrick, he was gone, vanishing out the door into the hot night.

*   *   *

F
our Shifters had attacked the diner, two of them with guns,
the fucking cowards
. What Shifters used guns?

Kendrick had taken down the one he’d just sent to dust—a Lupine called Ivan—who’d never been the most obedient to Kendrick but had never outright opposed him before. Kendrick had caught and fought a second Shifter, a Feline, and also sent him to dust with the sword before he’d gone after Ivan.

Kendrick’s heart ached from the deaths, each one a gaping loss for every Shifter.

He changed to his tiger again and found the trails of the two remaining Shifters, who’d fled when he’d attacked. They’d taken to vehicles about a mile away and driven off down a dirt road heading straight west.

Returning to where he’d hidden his clothes and sword on his motorcycle, Kendrick saw Addison come out of the diner’s back door, a big floppy purse at her side. She herded Robbie and the cubs into her car, a well-used Camry that had seen better days.

Kendrick had a momentary flash of anger. This woman should have a bright, beautiful car and be dressed in the finest clothes, not the ill-fitting waitress uniform and the flat, dull-black shoes on her shapely feet.

He’d recognized in Addison, the moment he’d first walked into her diner, a beauty that he’d never before encountered. He’d gone in with the cubs to find them something to eat late one night, choosing an out-of-the-way town where Shifters didn’t go.

One look at her had floored Kendrick, made him want a second look. She’d cheerfully served them pie, the last pieces of the day, confiding to Kendrick that apple with streusel was her favorite as well. She’d spoken without worry to the cubs, gaining smiles from even Robbie, who was slow to trust anyone. She’d won over Brett and Zane by squirting extra whipped cream onto their pies, making a game of swirling it around.

Addison had hair the color of darkest coffee—the way he liked it—and eyes the blue of sudden violets in the snow. She wore her hair in a ponytail, which swung against her back as she ushered the cubs into the backseat.

Kendrick had looked at her and seen a diamond among pebbles, a vivid and striking brightness in a world of grays. Something had awakened in him when he’d heard her voice, seen her smile. He didn’t know what that something was—his mate had been gone since Zane had come into the world, too soon for grief to be over.

But for a brief moment, his life had not been so dark or
uncertain. There was Addison, beaming her smile, winking at the cubs, always with a welcome.

That was her job—Kendrick understood that—but in that space of time in her diner, Addison had seen Kendrick as
himself.
Not a Guardian, a Shifter leader, an errand boy for Dylan Morrissey, or a Shifter trying to draw his clan together again. He’d been Kendrick, father to three cubs, man who ate pie.

When Robbie had asked the next night, “Can we go see Addie again?” Kendrick hadn’t been able to say no.

Addison secured the cubs in the back then slid into the front seat and started the car. She scanned the parking lot, searching the shadows, not seeing Kendrick where he’d parked his bike well back from the lights. Kendrick watched her square her shoulders and drive away.

The place Kendrick had told her to take the cubs was straight south, a few miles outside San Antonio, where Dylan patrolled regularly. No one would dare harm Kendrick’s cubs in Dylan’s territory.

Now to make sure no other Shifters lingered here, waiting to corner him.

Kendrick had always had unrest in the Shifters he led. How could he not, with different species living together, hiding from humans, keeping their true natures a secret?

Unlike most Shifters these days, Kendrick and his band didn’t wear Collars. They’d hidden away when humans came to round up Shifters years ago, and had lived free of Shiftertowns, covertly, for the last twenty years. But they’d had to follow Kendrick’s stringent rules to remain hidden, and Shifters hated confinement. Restlessness turned to resentment and anger. Kendrick had been challenged for leadership more than once, though he’d always prevailed.

At the moment, Kendrick’s Shifters were in limbo. They’d been living in secret in an underground bunker in South Texas that they’d made into a functioning if inelegant hideaway. But then a human man working for Shifter Bureau and his Collared Shifter mate—a Kodiak bear—had found the compound, broken in, and destroyed it. Kendrick’s Shifters had gone to ground as per their standing contingency plan, hiding out the best they could.

When Kendrick found a new place for them to be safe, he’d contact them. But his Shifters, never the tamest, must have decided to break away and even to try to take over in the meantime. Kendrick had failed them, they must have reasoned; therefore, Kendrick had to die.

At least, he assumed that was what these attacks had been all about. He’d have to find one of these assholes and shake answers out of him.

Shifters who wanted new leadership were supposed to challenge the leader directly. They didn’t fire guns—
what the hell were they thinking?
—and try to simply kill that leader and his cubs.

Kendrick dressed in the darkness next to his motorcycle with its sidecars, made specially for the cubs. He mounted it, started it up.

Sirens blared into the night, law enforcement responding to whoever had called in the violence at the diner. Kendrick rolled out of town in the opposite direction from the flashing lights, the Sword of the Guardian once more strapped to his back.

*   *   *

A
ddie had one of the tiger cubs—she wasn’t sure which one—on her lap by the time she pulled into the parking lot of the closed gas station just off the 377. The other tiger was curled up in the front passenger seat. Robbie sat in the back, his lap full of the cubs’ clothes, his face too serious.

Addie had called her sister as she’d driven, knowing Ivy would have heard about the shooting already—nothing stayed quiet long in Loneview. Ivy had been frantic, but Addie reassured her she hadn’t been hurt. “I’m really fine. I’ll be home in a little bit,” she’d said. Ivy assumed it was because she had to talk to the police, and Addie didn’t correct her. “Tell Tori and Josh I’m all right. Give them a kiss for me.”

She’d clicked off the phone before Ivy could ask any more questions.

Addie parked and turned off the car’s lights but kept the engine running. She turned to look at Robbie, who watched
her with grave eyes. “You okay back there?” she asked him. “You haven’t said much.”

Robbie shrugged. “Nothing much to say.”

“I know, sweetie.” Addie reached back and patted his jeans-clad knee. “I just want to make sure you’re all right. You want to come up here and sit with us?”

Robbie shook his head, though Addie saw in his eyes he did want to. He thought he had to be brave.

“You’re good to take care of the little ones,” Addie said. “Are they your, what—cousins?”

“We’re not related,” Robbie said without changing expression. “They’re Feline. I’m Lupine.”

“I’m not sure what that means, honey.”

Robbie pointed at the sleeping tiger cub in the passenger seat. “Feline—big cats. Lupine means wolf.”

“Oh.” Addie studied him. “That’s why you have such nice gray eyes, I bet. You take care of them well.”

“Kendrick takes care of me,” Robbie said. “It’s the least I can do.”

He was far too young to speak in phrases like that. Addie had grown up fast, but not
that
fast. She’d still had a childhood, thanks to her sister.

“Why don’t you stretch out there while we wait,” Addie said. “I have a blanket—we can pull that over you, make you all cozy.”

Robbie obeyed and lay down, but Addie suspected it was to please her, not because he wanted to. He was tense, waiting, much like Kendrick had been when he’d crouched in the kitchen, just before he’d launched himself through the pass to fight to the death. Cats jumped like that, she realized.

Addie pulled an old wool afghan from behind the driver’s seat and tucked it around Robbie’s small body. He didn’t say anything and didn’t close his eyes, only stared into the darkness.

Poor kid. Addie smoothed his hair, which he didn’t fight, and left him alone.

Fifteen minutes later, a motorcycle headed out of the darkness at her. Addie clutched the steering wheel, ready to gun
the car and race away if she had to. As the bike slowed and turned into the empty parking lot, she saw the flash of Kendrick’s white and black hair in the moonlight, the sword on his back.

The cubs woke as soon as they heard the motorcycle. Both tigers bounced to Addie’s lap, put paws on the open window ledge, and started yowling.

Kendrick swung off the bike with easy grace, balancing the sword without trouble. The cubs scrambled onto the window ledge as he reached the car, then hurled themselves at him. Kendrick caught them in his arms, cradling them with his big, gloved hands.

It was an interesting sight, the large, tall biker, holding two little white tiger cubs.

Robbie had sat up and now climbed out of the car without a word. He went straight to Kendrick and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist. Kendrick smoothed Robbie’s hair the best he could with an armful of cub.

“Addison, thank you.” Kendrick’s eyes held true gratitude.

He gazed at her for a moment longer, as though wanting to say more but not finding the words. Then he abruptly turned away, still carrying the cubs.

Addie scrambled out of the car. She knew that when he rode out of here, she’d never see him again. No way was she about to let him race off into darkness without answering a few questions.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Who were those guys? Why did they want to kill you? You stuck the sword into him and he disappeared. Where did he go?”

“To the Summerland,” Kendrick said, cutting through her jumble.

“Oh?” Addie planted her hands on her hips. “What the hell does that mean? If you stuck that sword into
me
, would I become a puff of dust too?”

“He was Shifter,” Kendrick said. “So, no.”

One thing Addie had learned about Shifters in the documentaries was that they wore Collars, with a capital C. The
Collars were designed to shock them and shut them down if they grew violent.
Control them—humanely
, the documentary had claimed.

Addie had seen nothing around Kendrick’s throat when he’d stood up, unclothed, in the diner. The Shifter who’d run into the diner hadn’t had a Collar either.

“Who were they?” she repeated. “Who are
you
?”

He gave her a hint of a smile. “Who do you want me to be?”

“Come on,” Addie said in exasperation. “I just went through hell. Tell me
something
.”