Night of the Tiger(17)

At the last second, she drew up short, not willing to just rush in. She didn’t trust this place or the people who ran it.

Reaching out, she cautiously drew back the canvas flap, giving a nervous glance over her shoulder. No one appeared to be following her. The footsteps and the laughter had faded as quickly as they’d begun. She took a breath and stepped inside.





Chapter Four

The room before her was enormous, almost as if it were a large tent on its own. And perhaps it was. Because of the dim lighting, it was impossible to tell how many tents were connected in this maze of canvas.

Aimee gasped at the sight in front of her and found her feet moving of their own accord. She’d never seen anything quite this beautiful in her entire life. Her fears and misgivings were momentarily forgotten as a sense of wonder and anticipation swept over her.

Spotlighted in the center of the canvas room was a beautiful antique carousel. It was an ornate masterpiece from a bygone era. The base and the top were heavily carved with curlicues and spirals. It was fanciful and gorgeous, exactly what a carousel should be.

There were four carved and painted animals anchored to the base of the carousel. But there were also several empty spots, which meant there had been more at some earlier date. Obviously the ride had been damaged at some point and that’s why it wasn’t available for the public.

The crowds of people who visited the carnival were missing out on a gem. The carousel was exquisite, a work of art. Aimee slowly circled it, admiring each of the animals in turn. A bear, lion and wolf all sat poised and ready for someone to sit on them. They were huge animals, big enough for an adult, and so lifelike she almost expected the lion to roar and the wolf to howl.

But it was the gigantic white tiger that drew and held her attention. It was exactly like the one from her dreams, exactly like the one she’d seen in the funhouse earlier this evening.

White tigers weren’t completely white—the fur was interspersed with a pattern of black bands. This one had bands that hugged its muscular body and fiercely handsome face. Its blue eyes seemed to pierce the darkness like glowing sapphires. It sat low on its haunches, muscles coiled and ready to jump. “Aren’t you gorgeous,” she whispered as she stepped closer.

She had no idea why she was whispering. She appeared to be completely alone. But there was something special, almost magical, about being in the presence of something so magnificent.

Aimee knew she had to get out of here and go home. She had to call Sandra and explain what had happened. Well, maybe not everything. There was no need to tell her friend about the erotic vision she’d had featuring Sandra as the star. That was just too weird.

There had to be some logical explanation for all the strange things she’d seen and experienced. Once again, she toyed with the idea that maybe she’d had a hallucination of some kind and imagined the whole thing. She’d certainly never thought about her friend being part of a ménage a trois before. Aimee wasn’t quite certain what it was called when there were more than three people. Maybe a ménage a quatre?

Whatever it was called, Aimee knew she wouldn’t forget it any time soon. She wouldn’t be surprised if her friend had done something like that in her lifetime. Sandra was an incredibly beautiful woman and not shy about admitting she enjoyed sex and all its variations.

That had to be it. For whatever reason, Aimee had dropped into a waking dream and her wild imagination had taken over. Perhaps it was due to the erotic dream she’d had last night. She was probably projecting those thoughts onto her friend.

She glanced around the tent, relaxing slightly when she assured herself she was still alone. It was just her and the carousel. She had to see it up close before she left. There would never be another opportunity for her to do so as there was no way she was coming back to the carnival.

And the carousel was a thing of beauty. It sat there looking forlorn and forgotten, and it called to her in ways she couldn’t explain. She had to get closer. She bit her bottom lip and kept glancing over her shoulder as she crept toward it. The white-and-red paint and gold gilding was chipped and fading on the top and base, but the animals themselves appeared to be maintained in perfect condition. Slowly, she circled the ride again, this time studying each animal in turn.

She eyed the wolf’s flank. The muscles rippled as though the creature was in mid-stride. The beast’s mouth was open in a silent snarl, sharp white teeth threatening. This was no softened version of an animal, but the creature at its most wild and elemental.

“I wouldn’t want to make you angry,” she murmured as she walked on without touching the wolf. Somehow, she had the impression he didn’t want to be touched. Which was crazy.