To Tempt A Tiger(7)

She snorted her disbelief. “Get this over with, Vlad. I want you out of my house.”

“Fine.” He gave up trying to soften the blow and let his tiger out.



Rose’s brain took almost thirty seconds to catch up to what she was seeing. For what felt like a long time, she simply couldn’t compute the information her senses were sending to her. That delay probably saved her sanity.

By the time her brain caught up, Vlad’s body had contorted into a form no human body could take on. His legs shortened and changed shape. His arms seemed to reposition and thicken. His hands widened and his fingers retracted, replaced by claws that came sprouting out from human skin now rippling with waves of russet, black and white fur.

The thing that had been Vlad folded forward, standing on all fours as his head and face contorted, moved and changed. Horror kept her still and mute. She couldn’t have screamed if she’d wanted to. The part of her mind not curling into a ball of terror took note of her physical reaction to the shock—the sweat covering her even as she shivered with cold, the fine trembling in her muscles, the way she felt like she was floating and yet couldn’t remember how to move her heavy limbs.

So this was what a mental breakdown felt like. She’d always wondered.

When the thing before her finally stopped contorting and shook out its fur, a massive Bengal tiger stood in the middle of her living room staring at her.

With Vlad’s beautiful brown eyes.

Curses she’d never allow in the same house as her daughter piled up against her tongue, but she couldn’t remember how to let those words out. In her mind, she screamed and denied, but beyond that, all she could do was stare.

There was a tiger in her living room, and she’d just seen the man she used to love do something that only happened in movies and fiction.

He’d said her daughter could do that. Zoe’s pain was caused by her body trying to do that.

The thought brought her back fully into her body and gave her control of herself again.

“Sonofabitch,” she hissed. “Vlad, you sonofabitch, why didn’t you tell me about this? What have you done to our daughter?”

The tiger shook his huge head and sat, wrapping his long, thick tail around his legs just like a domestic cat. For some reason that struck her as odd, and in the next minute, she almost laughed that the tiger’s position was what she focused on as being odd.

“Can you talk like that?”

He shook his head.

“But you understand? You can…think?”

He nodded, holding her gaze the entire time.

Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid she might pass out. She could see Vlad in the big cat’s eyes. And yet, it wasn’t him. There was something both wild and contained in the depths of the tiger’s gaze. Something powerful and dangerous.

To her utter astonishment, the danger drew her and helped tamp down some of her horror. She wasn’t amazed at being drawn to danger and thrill—she and her parents made their living organizing and leading adventure travel. She was a danger junkie. Even after having Zoe, she still couldn’t resist rock climbing or white water rafting occasionally, just enough to get her adrenaline pumping. She didn’t take the kinds of risks she used to when she was with Vlad, but motherhood hadn’t killed off her need for that rush of excitement.

And here she was, facing the most dangerous thing she could imagine. The part of her not screaming hysterical denials was suddenly…curious. And excited.

“Fuck me,” she muttered. Then slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced back toward Zoe’s door. The realization that she’d turned away from the dangerous predator in the room had her looking back quickly. She could swear the tiger was smirking.

She shook her head. “You need to change back.”

He nodded and stood, his body starting to convulse again.

“I need a drink.” She rushed into the kitchen, stunned that she’d actually chickened out and run away. But she wasn’t ready to see the process reverse itself.

By the time she came back out again, Vlad was not only human but sitting fully dressed on the couch. The incongruity of it made her pause and blink. Had she imagined all that?

“You didn’t imagine it,” he said, as if reading her mind.

She scowled and continued to the chair across from the couch. She glanced at the yellow sunflower clock on the wall over the TV. Was it still so early in the day?

It felt like hours had passed, but he’d only just knocked on her door about forty-five minutes ago.

She sat on the edge of the chair across from him and stared. “So…tiger shapeshifters, huh?”

He nodded.

“Does it…hurt to change?”