Erin had mentioned the mystery tigress, but he’d been too busy chasing after Therian females to give the tiger female much thought. “She was spotted wandering around in Aurora. The locals didn’t know what else to do with her, so they called your mom. She agreed to board the tigress until someone claims her or a permanent home can be found.”
“How long ago was this?”
He shrugged. The days had all run together while he was focused on missing women. “Ten days, maybe two weeks.”
“And no one has called about her?” Devon glanced at him then slipped the chart back into the slanted compartment beside the gate. She knelt and kept her arms close to her body, making herself as small as possible.
“She probably got away from a private collector who didn’t have the legal right to have her in the first place. That sort of thing happens more often than people realize.”
“In Aurora?” She looked up at him then shifted her gaze back to the tigress.
“That’s where she was found. We have no idea how far she’d wandered before someone called it in.”
The tigress was curled up in the back corner of the cage, watching them with alert golden eyes.
“Come here, girl,” Devon motioned through the bars, her voice gently coaxing. “No one will ever harm you again. You’re safe. I guarantee it.”
Ian couldn’t help but smile. He’d been the one whispering assurances just a few days before.
Suddenly emotions stabbed into his mind—fear and anger, hopelessness and grief. He staggered back as his knees nearly buckled.
“Are you all right?” Devon straightened and turned toward him.
He lightly scanned her mind but found no echo of the toxic emotions he’d just sensed. She grasped his elbow, steadying him as he shifted his attention back to the tigress. “Are you sure she’s a tiger?”
“Cougars don’t have stripes.” Her playful tone belied the concern in her expression. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure.” He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Empathy can be tricky. Sometimes emotions linger long after the person’s gone.” That was true, but the shadowy echoes he was talking about were never as strong as the emotions that had just assailed his mind.
“What did you feel? It didn’t seem pleasant.”
“Far from it.” He took a deep breath and looked at the tigress as he said, “You name it and I felt it. Fear, sorrow, fury and pain. The kind of emotions that make a person unable to trust anyone.” He watched the tigress carefully, waiting for any hint that she understood what he was saying.
She looked right into his eyes, her gaze cautious and searching.
“Most of the animals here have been abused in one way or another.” Devon slipped in under his arm and pressed against his side. “You probably picked up on a mixture of all of their emotions combined.”
“Probably.” Except he’d been in this building hundreds of times before and he’d never sensed anything from any of the animals. He tried to scan the tigress, but he sensed nothing from her. Which was as it should be. Animal thoughts and feelings resonated at a different frequency than human or Therian emotions, making them undetectable to his empathic receptors. “How long does it take them to realize they’re safe and we’re here to protect and help them?”
“Depends on the animal.”
He only nodded but his gaze remained on the tigress. He was nearly certain the emotional spike had come from her, which meant she wasn’t really a tiger. Was she trapped in animal form, like Dhane? Or was she hiding, too terrified to reveal her true nature to anyone?
Meticulously scanning for an opening, he located a weakness, a section of her shielding that was paper-thin and ready to crack. He could force his way inside and confirm his suspicion, but instead he honored her choice.
You’re among friends. He carefully pushed the thought into the tigress’s mind. We will protect you. As soon as you’re ready to rejoin our world, we will assist in any way we can.
The faintest hint of Therian light glimmered in the depths of the tigress’s gaze. Then she lowered her head to her folded paws and closed her eyes.
Chapter Nine
“Where the hell is my son?” Nate’s authoritative voice cracked like a whip, echoing off the walls of Heather’s small office.
She startled so violently her knee smacked the underside of the desk. Here we go again. She closed the inventory program she’d been updating and took a deep breath before she looked at her father. Overlapping voices and muffled music bled through the walls from the main room of the Clubhouse. She couldn’t decide if the semipublic setting was a mercy or an additional hazard.