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.
Tiger cracked open his eyes. He could barely see, but he could make out Andrea with her hand around the Sword’s blade, Sean holding its hilt. Curling wisps of silver snaked from the sword into Andrea, and out through Andrea’s hand to Tiger.
“He’s torn up in there,” Andrea said. “A complete mess. So many of them.”
Bullets, she meant. The threads of magic from Andrea hurt—hurt a lot.
Then Carly laid her hand on Tiger’s forehead. The coolness of her touch spread like a balm through his battered body and tangled limbs.
Andrea’s eyes popped open. “Wait. What?”
The new pain that tore through Tiger cut through Carly’s touch, even his mate’s presence not soothing it. Tiger groaned, then the groan turned to a roar. He balled his fists, clenching his jaw.
“What the fuck?” That was from Sean.
White-hot trails flowed through Tiger’s body, paths cutting from the embedded wounds to his skin. Tiger shifted without wanting to, becoming a snarling half-man, half-Tiger beast as the pain continued.
“What are you doing?” Carly cried. “Help him.”
“I can’t.” Andrea pulled away, the silver threads going away with her, but Tiger barely felt the disconnection.
Blood bubbled up from his wounds, and then from new ones as the bullets that had lodged inside him pushed their way out. The bullets clicked together and rolled off him, gathering in little piles around his body.
And it hurt. Tiger kept growling, pain like a blast furnace. The bullets hadn’t hurt this much when they’d gone in.
“They’re closing up,” Carly said, wonder in her voice. “Tiger, how the hell are you doing that?”
If Tiger knew, he’d also find a way to stop the crazy pain. He groped for Carly, and Carly grabbed his hand and held on. Tiger’s beast fur receded as the agony lessened a bit, his human flesh and fingers returning.
“Andrea, what did you do?” Dylan sounded angry, but his scent betrayed his alarm.
“I didn’t do anything,” Andrea said. “I mean, nothing more than I normally do. I close my eyes and see the wounds as threads, and I try to untangle them. I hadn’t even started—it was such a mess.”
Ellison coughed. “Well, whatever it was, can you see if it will work on me?”
“Now, please,” a new voice said. Female, small but loud—Maria, the young woman Ellison had fallen madly in love with.
Andrea and her Fae scent moved from Tiger, leaving him relatively alone with Carly. “You did it,” Tiger whispered. “The mate’s healing touch.”
“No,” Dylan said sharply before Carly could answer. “This was more than that. You, my friend, are becoming more of a puzzle instead of less of one.”
“Whatever,” Carly snapped at him. “Instead of questioning him and lecturing him, how about getting him home so he can rest? He saved my life, and I think he deserves a little quiet for that.”
When Tiger woke again, he was in the big loft on the third floor of the Morrissey house, in the room where he now slept.
He liked this room, large and breezy with four windows, one on each side. After a life spent in darkness, shut away, not knowing winter from summer, sunrise from sunset, now he could see the world he’d missed. Sometimes Tiger simply sat up here, watching the Shifters move through their lives, gazing at the many human houses and buildings that surrounded Shiftertown, the cars and people that rushed through, never knowing he watched over them.
Now he woke in the large bed they’d bought for him, holding Carly’s hand.
“Why didn’t ambulances come?” Tiger asked. For some reason, this was what preyed on his mind. There should have been ambulances, police, and men with tranq guns, as there had been in Ethan’s neighborhood on top of the hill.
Carly bent over him, her green eyes full of concern. “I don’t know. Maybe the Shifters told them not to.”
Tiger started to shake his head, then stopped as it started to pound. “Humans don’t do what Shifters say.”
“I have no idea, then. Doesn’t matter. You spurted those bullets out of your body, and your wounds are already closing. Andrea says it’s crazy. Dylan says that sure, you’re faster at healing than most Shifters, but this is something new. Even for you.”
“You were there.”
“I know I was there. I saw it firsthand.”
“The touch of a mate.” Tiger squeezed her hand, finding himself so weak he barely moved her fingers. He hated being weak.
“Don’t even look at me like I have some kind of magic powers. This isn’t the movies. And anyway, Dylan said no.”
“Dylan doesn’t know everything.” Tiger’s lips twitched. “He only thinks he does.”
“Yes, well, Liam said no too, and Sean, Andrea, and Ellison, and a really, really big man called Ronan, and a ten-foot blonde named Glory.”
“Dylan’s mate,” Tiger said, his voice too faint for his comfort.
“So I gathered,” Carly said. “She looked at me like she’d take a piece out of me if I wasn’t nice to you.”
“What happened to Walker? The shooter was dressed like Walker.”
“Walker was taken to Ronan’s house—I think that’s what I heard. They didn’t want him here when you got back.”
“I need to talk to him.” Tiger pushed aside the sheet and lifted his shoulders off the bed, then groaned and fell back. “I’ve never hurt this much before.”
“I bet you never tossed bullets out of your own body before.” Carly stroked his fingers, the cool of her healing running through him again. “They’re pretty freaked out downstairs. Talking about you.”
“Why aren’t you?” Tiger asked.
“Downstairs? I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
He’d meant why wasn’t she freaked out, but he let it go. “Because you’re my mate.”
Carly frowned, which pushed her bottom lip out a little, so sexy. “About that. Connor explained to me what you mean by mate. We need to talk, but we can wait until you feel better.”