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Teasing The Tiger (Seneca Falls Shifters Book 5)
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Teasing the Tiger
Seneca Falls Shifters: Book 5
Rayna Tyler
Teasing the Tiger
Copyright © 2020 by Rayna Tyler
http://raynatyler.com/
Published by Rayna Tyler, 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1-7341022-4-6
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
A Special Note
Books by Rayna Tyler
About the Author
Chapter One
Mitch
“Are you telling me I drove all the way over here because you thought you saw a tiger in your backyard?” Seeing a wolf, even a bear, wouldn’t have surprised me, but a jungle cat was hard to imagine.
“That was your emergency?” I scrubbed a hand over my face after giving Alma Chapman a skeptical glance, then peered again through the double-paned glass of the patio door at the animal-free forest behind her property.
Until now, being confused was not a description I would’ve used to describe the elderly woman who had to be pushing eighty years old. She was a retired grade school teacher and one of my longtime customers. Or I should say, Trixie, her black-and-gray-striped cat, was one of my patients. The animal was currently perched on the back of a nearby sofa, licking her front paw, seemingly unaware of her owner’s concerns.
Since I was the only vet with a home in the Colorado mountain area near the town of Ashbury, dealing with pet emergencies came with the territory. Though I was pretty sure catching imaginary tigers went way beyond anything listed in my job description.
“Don’t give me that look, Mitchell Jacobson.” She waggled her bony index finger at me. “I know what you’re thinking, and I am not senile. I know what I saw.”
All my friends and family, except for my mother when she was angry, called me Mitch. Alma, from the first time I’d met her, insisted on using the formal name I’d been given at birth. Tacking on the last name was her way of telling me she meant business.
I searched for a compliment, hoping it would distract her. “Those are nice glasses. Are they new?” I’d grasped at the first thing I could think of, which turned out to be a mistake.
“I’m not blind either.” She harrumphed and pushed the thick wire-rimmed bifocals farther up her nose.
While I stood there trying to figure out the best way to remove myself from her home without upsetting her further, I caught a streak of black and orange out of my periphery. I looked outside just in time to see the not so imaginary animal disappear through a gap in the trees. I shook my head. “Well, I’ll be darned.”
Alma crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “I told you I saw a tiger out there.”
A few seconds later, the cat reappeared. It was a beautiful creature, and I found myself more fascinated than afraid. The animal skidded to a stop near a patch of wildflowers, then pressed its nose against the white and purple blossoms. After a couple of sniffs, it jostled its head and sneezed before playfully bounding after a butterfly.
“Did you see that?” Alma took off her glasses and used the bottom of her shirt to clean the lenses, then slipped them back into place. “Is that normal behavior for a wild animal?”
“I have no idea.” I wasn’t an expert on predatory cats. The only tigers I’d ever been this close to were ones I’d seen at the zoo in California, and that had been back when I was a teenager. I certainly didn’t recall any of them sniffing flowers or chasing butterflies.
Some of the families that lived nearby had children and small pets. Letting the animal continue to roam the area put their lives in danger. I slipped my cell phone out of my back pants pocket, then ran my thumb through my contacts list.
Alma placed her hand on my arm. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to call the park rangers. They’re better equipped to deal with this kind of situation.” Some of the nearby land was part of a national forest, and the rangers had a station located in the area.
“You can’t,” she gasped. “The resort’s property borders mine. What if, you know,”—she leaned closer to whisper, as if the room was filled with other people who might overhear her—“the tiger is one of their special guests?”
Special guests. It didn’t take me long to realize what Alma was referring to. The Seneca Falls Resort was owned by a family of shifters, wolves, to be exact. Quite a few of their guests had the ability to transform into animals, a fact the shifter community rarely shared with humans. I was under the impression I was one of the few non-shifting people in the area who even knew they existed. “Alma, I’m sure I have no…”
She stopped me with a narrow-eyed glare, one I was sure she’d used regularly on her past students. “You’ve been friends with Reese, Berkley, and Nick for a long time. Don’t pretend you don’t know they’re wolves.” She harrumphed at me again. “Or that Bryson, the sweet boy your sister Leah married, isn’t a bear.”
“How did you find out?” My friends and my sister’s mate took extra precautions to protect their animal sides, and they wouldn’t have shared the information with Alma, not unless she’d been in a life-threatening situation. Berkley and her brothers had even designed a secluded area on their property for shifters so they could let their animals run without being observed by any human guests.
Poachers used to be a big concern when they’d first inherited the resort, so they’d hired a security team to ensure everyone’s safety. The area also had special signs posted on the trees designating the boundaries.
A wily grin spread across her face. “You don’t get to be my age and live on this mountain as long as I have without finding out about other people’s secrets.”
“Okay, then.” I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “What do you suggest we do about the tiger?”
“Can’t you go out there and talk to it? Maybe give it directions back to the resort?” Alma asked.
I shot her a sidelong glare, half expecting her to produce a map of the area for me to use while giving the animal instructions. “Let’s assume you’re right about the tiger being a shifter.” I continued to watch the animal’s odd behavior. It had stopped chasing the butterfly and had risen up on its hind legs to get a drink from a concrete birdbath near the trees at the back of the yard.
“What if it doesn’t like what I have to say, or sees me as a threat because I’m human, then decides to eat me instead?” I’d been hoping she had a better solution, one that didn’t involve the possibility of bloodshed.
“Good point.” Alma tapped her chin and crinkled her nose. “Aren’t vets supposed to have guns that shoot darts to put animals to sleep?”
“If you mean a tranquilizer gun, then yes, I have one in my truck.” I’d rarely had a reason to use the weapon, but still kept it stashed underneath the back seat, mostly as a precaution in case I ran into an animal causing problems. I’d never used it on a shifter and wasn’t even sure if the
darts were powerful enough to knock one out.
“Yes, one of those.” She smiled. “You could shoot the tiger with a dart, then, once it’s asleep, you can take it up to the lodge and ask them to look after it.”
It might not be a great idea, but it wasn’t a bad one either. The only part of the plan I intended to change, provided I didn’t get mauled first, was to call Reese and confirm he had a tiger for a guest before taking the animal to the lodge. News traveled fast on the mountain, and the last thing my friends needed was unwanted publicity.
I wasn’t totally convinced the animal was a shifter, especially since it was a long way from the resort’s safety zone. If it truly was a tiger, I’d be justified in shooting it. If I was wrong, then I’d be doing quite a bit of apologizing to its human side once it woke up. If that was the case, I’d have to rely on Reese and Berkley to help smooth things over.
“Stay here and keep an eye on the tiger while I run out to my truck.” I headed back through the living room, since I’d parked the vehicle on the gravel drive near the front of Alma’s house. With any luck, the animal would stay in the backyard long enough for me to retrieve the gun and get back inside.
***
Hannah
I propped my front paws on the edge of the birdbath and lapped some of the cool water. Shifting into my cat and taking a run had been a good idea. It cleared my mind and helped me work through the plot problems I was having with my latest mystery novel. Unfortunately, it also helped me realize that having the heroine find a dead body facedown in a koi fish pond wasn’t going to work in the current chapter I was writing.
Rewriting a few thousand words was another delay I couldn’t afford. My editor wasn’t happy when she found out I might miss my deadline, and she’d been less than thrilled when I told her I had plans for a trip to stay at a Colorado lodge for a few days. I’d hoped leaving the city to enjoy the breathtaking mountain scenery would help inspire my muse so I could finish my book.
To be honest, I was beating myself up based on extremely high expectations. I’d arrived at the Seneca Falls Resort only a few hours ago, which wasn’t nearly enough time to relax and work out my plot issues. I chuffed, then dropped to the ground and flexed my paws.
Being a highly creative person with a tendency to be completely drawn into my imaginary worlds, I sometimes forgot to pay attention to where I was going. Now that I was back to focusing on my surroundings, I thought it was strange that someone would put a birdbath in the middle of the forest. At least I did until I spotted a single-story home with a mustard-color finish and white trim at the opposite side of the clearing.
I glanced at the nearby trees and started to worry when I didn’t see any of the wooden signs that marked the resort’s area designated as a shifter run. Somehow, I’d left the protected zone and ended up in someone’s backyard.
This was not good, nor was it the first time I’d gotten myself into this kind of predicament. Most shifters had an enhanced sense of smell, but mine was adequate. Having bad allergies only made it worse.
It was why whenever I traveled, I made sure to take my best friend, Sydney Jamison, with me. She was an arctic fox shifter, a wilderness guide by profession, and great at keeping me focused. If she hadn’t been hired by a large corporation to accompany them on their two-week management team retreat, she’d be with me now. Since she was unreachable by cell and with my deadline quickly approaching, I’d decided to risk taking the trip alone.
A mistake I was certain I was going to pay for when I caught a glimpse of a female through the house’s glass patio door. She stared at me through her glasses with the kind of expression I’d expect on someone who’d noticed bubblegum stuck in my fur.
Even more disconcerting was the way the gorgeous male with short, silky brown hair gazed at me with intense dark eyes. Our brief staring match ended with me making a growly gasp after he slid the door open and stepped onto the concrete patio holding a gun and aiming it in my direction.
I understood how seeing a tiger roaming around their backyard would be unsettling. I was adept at protecting myself, but since I was the one doing the trespassing, I couldn’t blame him for wanting to shoot me.
On the other hand, if he managed to get in a good shot, I didn’t want to end up as a rug in front of his fireplace. The muscles in my chest tightened, making my already ragged breathing more difficult.
I definitely didn’t want to be shot. Even though shifting into my human form would have been the simplest way to keep that from happening, it wasn’t an option, and neither was staying here. Our kind had strict rules about exposing ourselves to humans.
If I could scent worth a darn, I’d be able to determine which direction led back to the lodge. Since I couldn’t do that either, I did what any sensible tiger who could easily outrun a human male would do. I ran back into the forest, staying close to the trees and any large bushes I could use for cover.
After a few minutes of glancing behind me and not seeing any sign of the male, I slowed to a walk. If I strayed too far from the area, I’d risk losing my way back to the resort altogether. Growing up without a decent sense of smell had forced me to develop other skills. I’d learned to mentally document important details when I wasn’t paying attention.
Right now what I needed was a landmark, something I’d seen, something that would trigger my memory and help me find my way back to the lodge.
I hadn’t gone far when another patch of wildflowers caught my attention. The purple flowers with yellow centers were exquisitely beautiful. I couldn’t resist stopping to press my nose against the delicate blossoms, hoping to catch a whiff of their fragrance.
After three unsuccessful attempts to inhale even the slightest hint of their floral aroma, I shook my head and sneezed. One sneeze led to another, and by the time I was done, my eyes were watering.
It was depressing to think I might be the only tiger shifter on the entire planet with allergies so severe, I couldn’t smell well enough to scent or track…anything.
A butterfly like the one I’d seen earlier caught my eye, and I changed direction to follow it. This one had brilliant black-veined orange wings. At first I thought it might be a monarch, but then decided it was more than likely a front range. The species had a similar appearance and was predominant in this area of Colorado. The only way I’d know for sure was by getting closer, and since I was never one to ignore my cat’s curiosity, I romped along after it.
The insect flitted from one patch of blossoms to another. When it finally landed on a petal, I crouched on the ground and eased closer. I had almost reached the flower, was seconds away from getting my answer, when I felt a sharp pinch on my right flank.
I pushed to my paws, my startled growl more of a yelp. When I turned my head to see what had caused the pain, I found a dart sticking out of my fur. Sydney once told me my distractions were going to be the death of me. Of course, she’d been teasing at the time, but now I wondered if she’d been right.
In my quest to observe the butterfly, I’d forgotten all about the handsome male. He was standing fifteen or so feet away from me, with his gun still pointed at my rear. I could feel the effects of the drug rushing through my system and didn’t have long to consider why he’d be frowning, not smiling about his well-aimed shot.
I tried to take a step, but my muscles refused to cooperate, and I stumbled. My legs wobbled, and I dropped to the ground. At least he hadn’t killed me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to wake up in a zoo or in a cage somewhere on another continent. I shuddered, the horrid thought the last thing racing through my mind before everything faded to darkness.
Chapter Two
Mitch
As soon as the tiger moved away from the birdbath, I stepped onto the patio behind Alma’s house. Surprisingly, the animal didn’t growl or take a predatory stance. It simply sprinted into the woods. Following after it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do, not if it decided to stalk me, to silently sneak up from behind and attack. Yet for som
e inexplicable reason, I was drawn to the beautiful feline. I cared about its welfare and didn’t want the rangers anywhere near it.
When I finally caught up to the tiger, it was back to chasing a butterfly. The scrutiny it gave the small insect after it landed on the petals of a wildflower was baffling. The big cat seemed so preoccupied that it hadn’t heard my approach, giving me plenty of time to aim without having to worry that I’d miss if it decided to move.
The instant the tiger snarled and dropped to the ground, I regretted pulling the trigger. What made it worse was seeing the shock in a pair of green eyes that appeared more human than feline.
I squatted next to the large cat and removed the dart. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my hand along its striped fur in a soothing motion while I pondered the best way to deal with it. My truck had four-wheel drive, so I could easily drive it into the woods without fear of getting stuck. My current problem was figuring out how I was going to lift a three-hundred-pound tiger into the bed of the vehicle, something I hadn’t even considered until now.
About a year ago, I’d modified my home to include a small clinic with Saturday hours to save the residents on the mountain—of which there were quite a few—from having to drive to my main office in Ashbury. I’d also included a kennel in case I ended up with overnight patients. The two gated stalls were designed with large dogs in mind, but I was pretty sure one of them was big enough to accommodate a full-grown tiger.
The solid form beneath my hand vibrated, and the sound of popping and crackling filled the air. Startled, I jumped to my feet and stared in awe as the tiger’s tail disappeared and its fur receded, replaced by smooth, creamy skin. In less than a minute, the cat had transformed into a woman.
Strawberry-blonde curls framed her face, and a light sprinkling of freckles covered her pert nose and rounded cheeks. Even though she lay on her side, it was hard not to notice her firmly toned body and the curve of her breasts not covered by the arm she draped across them.