Tempted by the Tiger (The Alaska Shifters Book 2) Page 2

  I swallowed the annoyance down and forced a smile. “You’re right. Where are my manners?” I made a quick bow and then grabbed Diana’s hand. “Shall we have a drink and plan?”

  She nodded yet her lips barely formed a grin. This woman was tough, and something about that mesmerized me. But not in the same way the photographer did. And as Scarlett prepared our order, I turned my back toward the bar and searched for her. I looked at the other shifters, then at the crowd of dancing ladies, and then back once more. But she was gone. Gone for now, but I would find her again.

  And as Diana began discussing what she wanted to do on our date, I started to plan a way to see that beautiful photographer one more time.

  When I’d been elbowed in the rib for the fifth time, I finally gave up. These women were crazy. I mean, shifters were certainly something exciting but that didn’t justify the need to act like screaming teenagers just to get a man’s attention. Plus, these men seemed to love the fact that women were falling all over them and offering their annual savings for just one date.

  By the time the last shifter walked on stage, I was seriously second-guessing why I’d taken this gig. I enjoyed photographing nature. In fact, that’s the whole reason why I was in Alaska. But until I sold more of my prints, documenting this historical time in our history paid the bills. Tonight, it was the ISC supplying the income. Julia Housten, the famous female grizzly, had found me online and asked me to shoot her fundraiser tonight. I agreed before really thinking about it. Sure, shifters fascinated me, but I was certainly more interested in their animal nature than the obnoxious human side.

  Someone pushed me from behind and I almost dropped my lens cap. “Oh, sorry,” a young female with dreadlocks and a handkerchief on her head said without feeling. The smell of patchouli burned my nose but also helped hide the scent of her unbathed body.

  I narrowed my eyes at her and wished she could feel them on the back of her head. It was so loud in here that my skull pounded and I seriously had zero patience left. Thankfully, we were on the last auction and I could get out of here soon.

  The women screamed when Julia announced Major Patel, the white tiger shifter. I’d watched the reveal over and over, amazed at how beautiful and unreal all of this news had seemed. Major had been the first one to show his true nature in Alaska. And I think because he was a tiger, I’d secretly admired his bravery for exposing something so precious and rare. Before coming here tonight, I’d searched all of their profiles online. Each day, new shifters kept revealing themselves, but Major still had one of the largest followings. And I supposed I could appreciate why. Handsome and charming, his dark hair hung nicely over his forehead and his tanned skin tone accentuated the chiseled body it seemed all shifters were blessed with. He sounded intelligent whenever he spoke and I’d yet to hear of him participating in any of the crazy behaviors the other guys were succumbing to—like orgy parties and adult film offerings.

  But who needed that kind of complication in their life? Certainly, not me. Alaska was my time. A chance for me to get away from Los Angeles and the crazy city and all of the crazies that lived there.

  I rubbed my ring finger absentmindedly. The indent from the wedding band was still prevalent but the ring itself was lying somewhere in the bottom of the Pacific. Good riddance to crazy-ass men. That thought made me smile, even as I got another elbow to the spine. Biting my lip in frustration, I lifted my lens and focused on just that one small glimpse of the world. Major strutted around the stage, teasing the women and relaxing a little more with each step. I kind of loved how uncomfortable he looked—like he’d rather be home curled up next to the fire and reading a good book instead of selling his body for charity.

  When the woman offered ten thousand dollars, I got the perfect shot of his face. No longer did he have his sexy grin and confidence. Instead, he looked as though he was almost…vulnerable. Afraid of something. And that observation did something funny to the insides of my stomach.

  Pushing my way through the drunk ladies, I finally reached the end of the bar where I had to complete the last of my obligations. “How are you doing?” Julia asked me with a laugh.

  I just shook my head and took the bottle of water she offered me. “I don’t know how you can stand it.”

  She smiled and jerked her chin toward Derrick. “I think the boys have it a lot worse than me. I’m getting proposals but they’re getting panties thrown in their face.”

  I followed her gaze to where the shifter bachelors were making their way toward us. Zane was first, and he did, in fact, have three pairs of panties waving around in his hands. But Zane certainly appeared to be enjoying every minute of his fame. When he pulled his new date over to me, I almost dropped the camera when I saw him up close. Tall, huge, muscular…and wearing a yellow piece of fabric that barely covered his manhood. I didn’t know whether to laugh or blush.

  “Hold still,” I told the two of them, snapping several quick shots so I could move on to the next one. Seth followed and with the way he was already looking at his date, I imagined they may end up seeing each other more than just one time.

  And then I spotted him. Major strode up to the small clearing, the woman who purchased him holding on tight. He seemed subdued, not really enjoying the attention like everyone else. His gaze scanned his surroundings even though the woman tried to talk to him. But his golden eyes mesmerized me like nothing else, and it took a moment before I could force the words out of my mouth.

  “Okay, give me a pose.” I snapped the picture before he was ready, because I suddenly felt overwhelmed with the pressure in my chest. Glancing quickly at my screen, I deemed the photo acceptable and started to walk away. The woman kept talking to him, and I heard him ask her name as I gathered my camera bag from behind the bar and pushed my way out the door.

  The cold winter air slapped me in the face like a bad dream. Despite spending an entire paycheck on the appropriate cold weather clothing, I had a feeling it was going to take years for my California blood to thicken. Although tonight, the cool air was a welcomed change. The thick, stagnate atmosphere in the club full of hormones and pipe dreams had started to weigh on me. Now, I sucked in a deep breath and pulled the scarf a little tighter, feeling the tension release every second.

  Damn those golden eyes.

  “Did you drive?” a deep voice asked from behind me.

  I jumped at the sudden intrusion and the man simply laughed at me. I turned to see someone tall enough to be a linebacker but handsome enough to be a model. Most of his body was covered by his jacket and wool hat, but I had no doubt I was looking up into the eyes of an unknown shifter. “Can I help you?” I asked with a shaky voice.

  He smiled but it didn’t really suit his face. “I’m acting as security tonight. Did you drive here?”

  I nodded and he flicked his head toward the far side of the parking lot. “Those assholes are making it difficult to leave. I’ll help you to your car and then I’ll get them to clear the drive.”

  I looked out into the distance where I could now see a large group of people holding torches and shouting some kind of nonsense about shifters being abominations. Their chants didn’t really work and I chuckled when I heard it. Wanting to document everything, I reached into my bag and pulled out my camera. But the shifter standing next to me pushed my arms back down.

  “Don’t,” he warned.

  I jerked my arms away. “I’m supposed to document everything. This is a part of it,” I said, waving my hand out toward the protesters.

  “It will only make it worse,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because they thrive on the attention. Every cell phone video, every news van, every…” he looked down at my camera, “every photo, gives them a platform.”

  Studying the giant man in front of me, I saw the truth in his words. These protesters were fighting against something that nature had spawned…not the Devil as they claimed. They were fighting against the very people I’d been photographing tonight. Peopl
e. Not sub-humans. Understanding where this man was coming from, I nodded and put my camera away.

  “Thank you,” he muttered just as a growl rattled in his chest.

  “It isn’t right,” I said. “What they’re doing. You’re just trying to live your life. They have no right to interfere.”

  The man glanced down at me in surprise and I swear his pupils changed shape for an instant. “They have the right to spew their idiotic ideals thanks to the constitution, but I wish they would do it from their own lawns.”

  I smiled at that and unlocked my beat-up truck that we’d just reached. “Thanks for your help getting me out of here…uh…what’s your name?”

  He held out his gloved hand and grabbed mine. “Calvin.”

  “Nice to meet you, Calvin. I’m Fiona.”

  Calvin nodded and stepped away from the door so I could get inside. One the third try, the truck started and Calvin waved me back. Then he ran up ahead, said something to the gathered crowd, and they quickly parted just wide enough for me to squeeze through.

  “Shifter Slut!” one of them yelled just as I thought I’d made it out unscathed. But I simply laughed at just how wrong they were. I was no one’s slut…certainly not for one of those shifters inside.

  My phone rang just as I rounded the corner and pulled out onto the main road. From the ringtone, I knew who it was and I debated about answering. But knowing what the consequences would be, I sucked in a breath and prepared myself.

  “Hey mom,” I said.

  “Fiona Walker. Where the hell have you been? I haven’t heard from you all day!”

  “I told you I had a job tonight. Remember?” I loved my mom, but she was not a fan of my little quarter-life crisis move to Alaska.

  “For the shifters?” The way the word slid off her tongue sent a quick rush of anger to my own.

  “Mom…I warned you. Please don’t be judgmental.”

  She sighed. “I’m not judging, Fiona. I’m just worried about you being up there all alone surrounded by them.”

  Clenching my jaw, I counted to three before speaking again. “Mom, one of them just helped me to my car tonight because the humans were threatening lives.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Look, have you talked to your brother….”

  And on it went. Just like that, my mom filled me in on my brother’s latest shenanigans which apparently including a pregnancy scare, a traffic ticket, and a new job. And not necessarily in that order. By the time the conversation had come back around to me, I had almost reached my destination.

  “So where are you staying, honey?”

  I looked up at the trail head and said, “At a hotel.”

  There was a brief pause before, “You’re lying.”

  “Mom…”

  “Fiona, stop. You promised me you wouldn’t stay out in the woods up there.”

  “Everything is in the woods here.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Mom, I can take care of myself.”

  “Do NOT sleep in those woods, Fiona.”

  “I have to go. Love you!”

  “Don’t you hang up—”

  My phone beeped as I disconnected. A part of me felt bad for doing that, but a bigger part of me needed to be done with that conversation. Ever since my divorce, my mother had resorted to treating me like a child again. She’d warned me about my ex but I hadn’t listened. And now she through she knew what was best for my life.

  I pulled off the side of the road where the trail started. It was dark and a little scary, but ever since coming here a week ago, I couldn’t get enough of the forest by myself. It would have been easy for me to stay in a hotel, but I chose to camp. I liked to camp…something new I’d discovered about myself up here.

  So I loaded up my pack and the rest of my gear, and flipped on my headlamp. My shoes crunched under the icy gravel but there hadn’t been snow here in a few days. It was cold. It was dark. And most importantly, it was quiet.

  And in the silence, I daydreamed about a certain white tiger and his orange-golden eyes as I made my way to my own private campsite.

  By three in the morning, I’d almost given up on sleep. But I waited until five before climbing out of bed. Brennan’s cabin had been my home for a while now, and it had been a great place that I was starting to think of as mine. I’d switched my mailing address. I’d planted some vegetables outside. Hell, I’d even ordered new furniture. I was happy here. Comfortable in my den. Therefore, sleepless nights had been few and far between.

  So what was it that had my tiger so on edge?

  As the coffee dripped slowly into the pot, I tried to convince myself it wasn’t her. The nameless photographer that had instantly awakened the animal. No, she couldn’t have this kind of effect on me, I didn’t know her. She didn’t know me. And I would probably never see her again.

  Find her.

  My tiger had stayed rather silent for decades after we lost Annie. He’d crawled into that dark space left empty by my mate and let me be. Every once and a while I could coax him out. But even when I shifted, his true nature remained hidden from everyone.

  Until last night.

  And now he wouldn’t let me be. His restlessness haunted me like a lingering nightmare. He wanted to see her again. I wanted to see her again. But the sun hadn’t even come up yet and it wouldn’t for several more hours. I didn’t know where she was staying.

  Go. Now.

  His insistence got the best of me. So, without giving it too much thought, I finished my coffee and striped out of my sweatpants. Maybe a run would help ease his anxiety. Usually it helped both of us. Yet when I walked outside onto the front porch and sniffed the air, my stomach twisted in excitement. No, it couldn’t be her. Not all the way out here.

  My tiger roared inside and a second later I was standing on all fours. Mouth partially open scenting the sky around me, we both tried to determine if she could really be somewhere nearby. Why hadn’t she stayed at a hotel? Why would she risk camping in the woods at a time when our small little piece of paradise was being bombarded with groupies and media and worse?

  I ran into the woods, searching for some kind of trail. But the further away from the cabin we ventured, the weaker the scent got. I doubled back, checking the eastern edge of the woods instead. Following the road at a safe distance, I looked for fresh tires tracks. But even in the darkness of the early morning, I knew no one had driven out here in hours.

  Keep moving.

  My tiger had a hunch. Or maybe it was his natural instinct. And I tended to listen to him when he was this determined. So we continued running—paws dodging fallen trees, breath frosty in the cool air. He let out a roar loud enough to wake the sleeping birds as the smaller animals on the ground scattered in front of us. But it wasn’t food we were after. No, we were tracking her.

  We ran for miles, her subtle scent keeping us determined. I knew we were getting closer to one of the many marked trails out in these woods, and I hoped this is where we would find her. And just as that thought made its way to the forefront of my mind, we slid to a stop. Small bits of rock tumbled over the ledge of the outcropping we’d almost fallen over. I knew these woods. We knew these woods. And I couldn’t believe how close we’d come to the edge.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  The human side started to panic. This wasn’t like me. I was always in control of my animal. And now he’d almost killed us and I couldn’t seem to yank myself free. As though finally hearing me, the tiger huffed a small growl. He forced me to look down over the ledge, giant white paws dangerously close to the unstable land. I didn’t see it at first, but then I caught a small reflection. At the bottom of the cliff, hidden by a cluster of pine trees sat a truck. And old, orange truck that could have belonged to anyone. The tiger knew it was hers but the human wanted confirmation.

  We jogged along the ledge, looking for an opening. Several large rocks protruded from the cliff up ahead and we used them to get us down to the bottom in just a
few seconds. With a thud, we landed in the dirt, our feet sinking slightly in the thawing ground. Again I sniffed, her aroma filling my nose and my heart in a way that should scare me. She had been here. This was her truck.

  Told you.

  I had to laugh at the smug tiger inside of me. We didn’t often have these kinds of conversations and I didn’t think I’d ever sensed this kind of attitude from him before. But just to confirm, we walked toward the truck, being careful that no one else was around to see us. Lifting up on my hind legs, I set my paws on the driver’s side door and looked through the window, searching the bench seat. The truck had a manual transmission and by the state of the radio, I guessed it was at least thirty years old. The tan leather seats had holes worn into the corners and the fake woodwork on the dash board was peeling off in several places. The extra-large silver steering wheel reflected the rising sunlight back out the front window and caught the tear-drop shape crystal that hung from the rearview mirror.

  She had no supplies in here. Only a small plastic bag full of what smelled like trash and several napkins strewn throughout the seat. I landed on all fours again and walked around the side of the truck, rubbing my body against the cold metal and marking this territory as mine. I could say that was all tiger’s idea, but really we both wanted it. I peeked into the bed where I saw nothing but dead leaves and wondered just how much camping gear this human photographer had.

  We picked up her scent at the trail head and followed along just off the side of the path. While I’d exposed myself during the reveal, I didn’t want to give the haters any reason to believe a tiger roamed these woods on a regular basis, so it was imperative that we keep our tracks hidden.

  We followed the trail for several miles, impressed that our photographer had hiked this far out late at night. We loved strong women, even when they challenged us. And this woman, the unnamed woman that had captured our attention with just one look, was strong. And independent. And fearless.

  The animal purred as we thought about her. Each boulder we jumped on brought us one step closer to finding out who she was. As the trail opened up into a meadow, we stopped and looked across the clearing. Surrounded by pines and mountains on all sides, the air smelled of incoming snow and that beautiful aroma that belonged to her. Citrus and pine, that was how I described it. Something crashed in the woods behind us, but yet we couldn’t tear our eyes away from the bright yellow tent tucked away underneath the bordering pines on the other side of the meadow.