White Tiger (A Shifter's Unbound Novel) (7 page)

That human yanked open the door and shone a lantern flashlight full in Kendrick’s face. “Can I help you with something?” A voice belonging to an elderly man came at him, and Kendrick heard the click of a cocking shotgun.

If Kendrick hadn’t heard that sound earlier tonight, hadn’t thrown his sons over the counter and rolled after them, he wouldn’t be standing here, and neither would the cubs or Addison. But his reactions were those of a cat, and Kendrick could move fast.

He had the shotgun out of the man’s hands in a heartbeat, pointing the barrels well away from his cubs and Addison.

The lantern dipped, and the gray-haired man raised one hand in surrender. “Now, no need for violence,” he said in a slow Texas drawl. “I just need to be careful about who walks up to my door in the middle of the night. What y’all want?”

Addison, who truly needed to learn about caution, approached. “We hate to bother you, sir,” she said in her pleasant waitress voice, “but we saw your house, and there isn’t much else out here, is there? Is there a town close by where we can spend the night?”

The man glanced at Kendrick, who still held the gun by its barrel, and Addison, who was smiling, a Texas-born girl who knew how to be polite.

“Ain’t no towns around here,” the man said. “There’s Marfa, but it’s about a hundred miles that way and the hippies have taken it over. No, this is the best place to stay in these parts. Welcome to Charlie’s Dude Ranch. Can I book you a room?”

“W
hat’s a dude ranch?” Brett wanted to know.

The man called Charlie showed them the way in with a big flashlight—after Kendrick had gone in first to check the place out. Not until after he’d decided the house was safe did he allow Robbie, Brett, and Zane off the motorcycle. Charlie handed Addie flashlights to pass around—electricity hadn’t worked since his generator went out, he said.

“This is where city slickers come to pretend to be cowboys,” Charlie said in answer to Brett. “They help round up the cattle and such. Not that there’s any of those around anymore.”

“We’re not city slickers,” Zane said. “Addie, what’s a city slicker?”

Addie handed Zane a flashlight and showed him how to work it. “It’s someone who’s lived their whole life in a city and doesn’t know anything about the country. I’m not one, either. My grandparents had a little ranch when I was about your age. I learned how to ride and use a lariat. That’s a rope you throw around a cow to catch it.”

Kendrick said nothing at all. He looked around the house
thoroughly, flashing his borrowed light on walls, beamed ceiling, and the large stone fireplace in the main room. He’d already locked the shotgun into a cabinet in a closet—he hadn’t wanted to hand it back to Charlie.

“Well, the slickers all used to come out here,” Charlie said as he took them through a door that led to a long hallway. “Celebrities too, to get away from it all. Guest bedrooms are back here.”

“You don’t have any guests now?” Addie flashed her light into the first room he opened, seeing a comfortable double bed in an old-fashioned bedstead. “It looks nice.”

“Not for a good many years, young lady,” Charlie said. “Bathroom’s in there.” He fixed his light on a door on the other side of the room. “Plumbing still works. It’s just the lights that go haywire. No, we haven’t had guests in—oh, ten years now. Not since Mrs. Charlie passed away. That’s what everyone called her. Mrs. Charlie. I called her Edna. Sweetest woman you ever want to meet.”

“I’m sorry,” Addie said. Ten years, and deep sorrow still filled his voice.

“She wouldn’t like it if I weren’t hospitable, so as long as you can put up with the busted generator, you can stay. You and your husband can sleep in here and the boys can have the big bedroom across the hall.”

“Oh,” Addie said, her face growing hot. “We aren’t—”

“That’s fine,” Kendrick broke in. “Thank you.”

Charlie turned away without noticing any hiccup. “No mice or snakes—I have a bunch of cats out there who keep down the critters. Coyotes come right up to the porch, though. They’ll eat cats, so the cats run and hide when they come. Here you go, boys.”

He opened the door to a large bedroom that had been lined with wood to look like the inside of a log cabin. A bunk bed filled one wall and a small trundle bed lay against the other. A soft braided rug stretched across the wooden floor, and shelves were filled with books and old-fashioned wooden toys.

“I know kids are lost without their Xboxes,” Charlie said, “or whatever they’re called nowadays, but you’d be surprised
how many abandon them to play with the wooden horse and toy soldiers.”

Robbie and the two younger cubs walked into the room and looked it over as though they’d never seen anything like it.

Zane and Brett lost no time in swarming up the short ladder to the top bunk and perching there. Addie watched them in alarm for a heartbeat or two before she remembered they were cats, in truth.
Would they land on their feet if they fell?

“You can sleep up there only if your dad says it’s all right,” she admonished them.

The two boys stopped and stared down at Addison in puzzlement. She turned away quickly and focused on Robbie, who was still looking around then sat tentatively on the lower bunk.

Kendrick slung a small duffel bag to a chair. “Settle yourselves in.” He looked pointedly at Robbie.

Charlie said, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I have some cold sandwiches if you want supper. Can’t cook anything.”

He gave them a genial smile and clumped down the hall to the front. Kendrick gave Robbie another look before he shut the boys in the bedroom. He put his hand on the small of Addie’s back and guided her inside the room Charlie had designated as theirs.

“Why didn’t you ask for separate bedrooms?” Addie said as soon as the door closed. “You could have said I was the nanny.”

Kendrick studied her with eyes that told her he didn’t understand her objection. “He thinks we’re husband and wife or at least a couple,” he rumbled. “He thinks we’re a normal human family. As it should be.”

Addie wanted to laugh. The bubble of hysteria rose. “The fact that you can say
normal
and
family
in the same sentence shows you don’t know a lot about human families.”

“Doesn’t matter. I only care what
he
thinks.” Kendrick set the larger duffel bag and the long bundle with his sword on an empty table. “I have some shirts in there you can wear for something to sleep in.”

“Sleep.” Addie turned her gaze to the bed. It was a high
wooden bedstead, the kind with steps. It looked comfy, but . . .

When she turned around, she saw that Kendrick was no longer watching her. He was pacing the room, examining the walls, ceiling, windows, flashing his light everywhere. A fireplace took up the far wall, which backed onto the fireplace in the big living room. The same stone lined it, the whole wall part of the chimney.

Kendrick ran a hand over the fireplace wall, then slapped the stones, which gave off a solid sound. He glided his light over the ceiling, examining the beams.

He reminded her of a guy on one of the house remodeling shows. Any second now he’d say something like, “Good bones.”

“You planning to buy it?” Addie leaned against the bed, the mattress soft against her back.

“Maybe,” Kendrick said absently.

“An old house in the middle of nowhere with a busted generator.” Addie nodded gravely. “The ideal home. I bet you could get a good deal on it. The question is—why?”

Kendrick switched his light from the ceiling to her, snapping off the beam just before it would blind her. “We have to live somewhere. A den in the ground might have done for my ancestors but I like indoor plumbing.”

He was trying to be funny. Addie’s big, silent warrior had tried to make a joke.

The only light came from her lantern flashlight now, which she’d set on a nightstand. By it she saw his eyes on her, glittering like a cat’s.

“Very amusing,” she said. “But you’re avoiding the question of our sleeping arrangements.”

Did he expect her to curl up in bed with him? Did he expect she’d throw off her clothes and demand to have sex with him? She imagined his welcoming look as he drew her against his big, strong, unclothed body . . .

Addie sucked in a sharp breath that nearly drowned out Kendrick’s next words.

“You take the bed,” he said, sounding indifferent. “I rarely use a bed, and I need to have a look around.”

“Ah. Right.” Addie kept the disappointment from her voice. Not that she’d been ready to throw off her clothes and slide into bed with him . . . All right, maybe she had been.

“Settle yourself in and get some sleep,” Kendrick said. “I’ll go see if I can help Charlie with his generator.”

“Are you an electrician?” Perhaps that’s how he made a living and was able to buy pie every night.

“I know something about it.”

“What about the cubs?” Addie asked. “Are they going to be all right?”

Kendrick hesitated. “They’re off the road, safe for now, under my protection. They’ll be fine. Robbie knows how to look after the little ones.”

“Yes, but who looks after Robbie?” Addie thought about the look Kendrick had given him, the one that told Robbie he needed to make sure the smaller cubs were okay. Robbie sometimes looked crushed under the weight of responsibility.

“
I
look after him,” Kendrick answered. “Go to bed. Long day tomorrow.”

“Why? What’s tomorrow?”

Kendrick gave her an unreadable look. “I don’t know. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Kendrick.” Addie took a step forward.

Kendrick turned back to her, looking impatient to be gone. “Something you need?”

“A lot of things. Like who is after you, why you don’t live in a Shiftertown, why you don’t wear a Collar, and why you want to buy this house in the middle of nowhere. The documentaries say Shifters aren’t allowed to buy houses. Which is a stupid rule, but I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

Kendrick came back from the door to halt a foot or so away from her, right in her personal space. He could change from quiet, enigmatic man to dangerous predator in a heartbeat.

He leaned down and spoke quickly and softly, his eyes glittering in the shadows. “I want Charlie to think us a human family so he won’t catch on I’m Shifter. Humans would be together like this. I’ll buy this place, like a normal human, and he never has to know. I need you to help me with that, Addison.”

His warmth came to her, his eyes holding vehemence but also fear. Kendrick demanded, but Addie realized his demand was actually a plea. Kendrick wasn’t a man who had to ask for help very often.

“So did you escape from a Shiftertown?” Addie asked in a whisper.

“No. I was never in one.” Kendrick took a step closer her. “That’s the point. I’ve kept myself, my family, and an entire group of Shifters from being forced into Shiftertowns. For twenty years.”

Addie’s lips parted. From what little she’d gleaned, Shifters could not be without Collars and were not allowed to live anywhere but a Shiftertown. Those were the rules, enforced pretty hard. Shifters caught not following those rules were called “rogues” and could be arrested and killed.

Kendrick and his sons, walking around in the world un-Collared, were in a dangerous position.

“How can you?” she asked, her voice hushed. “Isn’t it safer for you in the Shiftertowns?”

Kendrick’s look of rage nearly made her step back, but Addie held her ground.

“Not safer,” Kendrick said, the words containing a snarl. “More convenient for humans. They’re terrified of us, but they never gave us a chance.” He’d begun to curve over her, a beast enraged, and now eased back down. “You didn’t give us up to the police. I’m trusting you to not give us up now.”

“Like I would.” Addie pinned him with an annoyed look. “I really don’t care whether you live in a Shiftertown or not. Just . . . promise me you won’t let your kids be hurt for what you believe in.”

His scowl deepened. “I am doing this to make sure my cubs are free and far from harm. Do you think they’d let me keep Robbie? He’s without clan, without pack. Humans would shove him in with a different wolf family who might not accept him. Pack affiliation is taken seriously.”

“But you’re not even a wolf,” Addie pointed out.

“He’s with me because I’m leader. All my Shifters are my pack, as it were. Though Felines say
pride
.”

“What about me?” Addie asked. “Will I be part of your pride?”

Kendrick stopped. He stared at her as though she’d stunned him. His face went very still, his jaw firming then easing.

He skimmed his gaze down her body, taking in her shirt that was about four years old, her generic blue jeans, her sneakers. Then, very slowly, Kendrick lifted his hand and smoothed back a lock of her hair.

He’d stripped off his gloves, and the touch of his bare fingers tingled heat through her blood. Kendrick’s jaw tightened again, his lips compressing until little creases formed in the corners of his mouth.

Addie resisted leaning into his hand, much as she wanted to. His palm was large, which would nicely cup her cheek, warm her cool skin. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

Kendrick abruptly dropped his hand, and Addie opened her eyes in time to see him turning away. The draft of his swift withdrawal chilled her.

“Get some rest,” he rumbled, then yanked open the door and took himself out.

Addie blew out her breath as the door clicked closed behind him. She needed to flop somewhere, as she liked to when the world got too much for her. In this room, she had to climb the ladder to the bed before she could throw herself down on her back.

The bed was as comfortable as it looked. Addie’s bones began to soften, her sore muscles and her shakes relaxing.

She was far, far from anyone and anything she knew, with a taciturn Shifter biker with a sword and his three kids, in a run-down dude ranch with no electricity, its proprietor a sad old man taking care of it in memory of his late wife.

Addie should be terrified. Kendrick could do anything to her—he was a Shifter without a Collar, uncontrolled, unregulated. She should fear him.

But she’d seen the sadness in his eyes when he’d run the sword through the other Shifter, even though that Shifter
had been doing his best to kill Kendrick and his sons. Addie had witnessed Kendrick’s protectiveness with the cubs, and now with Addie.

He wasn’t a rampaging, killing beast . . . All right, at least not all the time. He cared about his kids, he’d not let Addie take the blame for the shooting, he’d handed Addie five thousand dollars to help her out, and then shrugged when the police took it away from her. He’d spoken casually about buying this house, which was large, and probably on a lot of land. Not cheap. So somewhere, Kendrick had enough stashed that he didn’t have to be concerned about money.