Evernight Publishing ®

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Copyright© 2014 Lynde Lakes

ISBN: 978-1-77233-163-9

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Melissa Hosack

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my supportive husband, John, and my readers, now friends, who
are willing to suspend belief and venture into the paranormal world of
interesting characters in intriguing and potentially deadly situations,
knowing they’ll get an entertaining, satisfying, page-turning read.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Many thanks to my Evernight Publishing, acquisitions manager Marie
Buttineau. And, of course, to my Evernight editor Melissa Hosack and
cover artist Sour Cherry.

Appreciation also to the staff at Aina Haina & Kapolei Libraries

CIRCUS WOLF

Virgin Wolf, 4

Lynde Lakes

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

Tigra Tortella, Circus Queen, a May 30th Gemini, raked her

dagger-nails through her long, wild reddish blonde mane and paced
her dressing room wearing a skimpy costume of two narrow valor
strips of imitation tiger fur. It was almost time for her performance
before a full tent crowd. Let everything go smoothly.

The door burst open and banged against the wall as Rolo

charged in and lunged for her. She stepped back and threw her palms
up in a stop position. Time was ticking away. “We’ve talked about
this, Rolo.”

His eyes were glazed. He grabbed her wrist. “Yeah, well I’m

through talking.”

She thought for a moment that he might hit her. “What’s

wrong with you?” She yanked free of his grip, grabbed up her dart
gun, and pointed it at his right shoulder. “Stay back. This over-the-top
shouting and bullying isn’t like you.” He was usually mild-mannered.
She’d never known him to use drugs or drink excessively, and she
didn’t smell any alcohol.

Glaring at the dart gun, he inched a step forward. His eyes

were too bright, his pupils pinpoints of rage. He wasn’t a druggie, but
right now he looked and acted like one.

“I’m not kidding, Rolo. This isn’t going to happen. You’re my

ring assistant and nothing more. Now back off.”

He waved his arms like a crazy man. “Why the hell have you

been leading me on?”

“What? Are you kidding me? I haven’t. I wouldn’t. If I were

attracted to you, which I’m not, we work together. Anything beyond a
working relationship is off limits.”

“Who caught your eye? Vance Skull? I’m warning you, he’s a

bad one.”

Still holding the dart gun on Rolo, she picked up her cell

phone. “Don’t force me to call security. Go cool off, and I’ll meet you
in the ring.”

Narrowing his eyes to slits, he paused, then whirled around

and slammed out the door.

She exhaled. Thank God. She rubbed her wrist, trying to

soothe the erratic pounding of her pulse.

Blast Rolo! If she went to boss man Ralph and tried to pull

Rolo’s part of the act, the boss might think she couldn’t handle her
team. Darn, I should be able to handle one mere man. She didn’t
want to fire him. Hands down Rolo was one of the best handlers she’d
ever worked with. But the act was too dangerous not to take some sort
of precaution.

She left her caravan on the run, barely aware of the cooling

evening breeze and the sawdust rustling under her feet. Heart
pounding, she met with the five rear cage handlers.

“Look, guys,” she said, facing the men in matching yellow T-

shirts and jeans. “Be prepared for anything. Rolo is high strung and
off his stride tonight.”

“No problem,” the head handler said. “We’ll watch your

back.”

“Thanks, guys.” She left the crew, forcing herself to ignore

their wisecrack whispers about her being a control freak. She was—
and that was the reason the show always went smoothly.

Tigra paused at the Big Top entrance to catch her breath,

compose herself, and give Rolo time to cool down, get in place, and
start his part of the act.

The parade of elephants with their skimpily-dressed ladies in

sequined slippers and the frolic of mischievous clowns had ended.
With a silver-tipped cane under the elephants’ bellies and behind front
legs, the huge swaying delightful beasts were led out. Then, right on
cue, the twenty-piece band slid seamlessly into one of the difficult
Mephisto waltzes.

Rolo bowed as he strode for the center cage. He was an

impressive showman. Her disinterest in him had nothing to do with
his looks or his bearing. Bare-chested and wearing black tights, the
handsome muscled Adonis looked confident enough. She closed her
eyes, steepled her hands, and sent up a silent prayer. Dear Lord, help
Rolo regain control and keep us all safe. She blew out a gust of air
and straightened her shoulders. The show must go on.

****

Heading for the center ring, Rolo struggled with his wave of

regret. Exploding, shouting at Tigra, and slamming out of the dressing
room wasn’t something he’d normally do. Yes, he wanted their
relationship and his career to move faster, and it was often his nature
to push too hard, but tonight he was way out of line. If he didn’t know
better, he’d think someone slipped drugs into his orange juice. He
straightened his spine and, with effort, shucked off his regrets. He’d
apologize later.

Locking into his mode of complete concentration wasn’t

working. He rubbed his head. His mind felt electrified and an unusual
tic at the corner of his eyelid added to his off-balance, out of control
agitation. Why? He’d done this act many times. Why was tonight’s
performance different? Everyone’s initial encounter with a tiger, even
within the confines of the circus, was terrifying. And his first
remained etched in his mind forever. Now, for some mysterious
reason, he was re-experiencing those same first-time jitters.

The full-house crowd hummed with mounting eagerness; they

were hungry for thrills.

He scanned the stands and sensed all eyes were on him. His

trembling hand hesitated on the door of the center cage. Stay cool!
This odd inner shaking and paranoia will pass.

He’d barely stepped inside the enclosure when the animal

hatch thumped open and five
Bengal tigers charged into the cage. They rushed toward him with
their orange bodies swaying in muscled motion as they circled him
growling, with wide, toothy mouths.

He sucked in a long breath to bolster his waning courage and

snapped his whip.

Still growling, the huge striped beasts took their places on the

pedestals, and with big paws, clawed furiously in his direction. His
job was to pretend to antagonize them. It was the usual warm up to

make the Tiger Queen’s performance appear more frightening to the
audience. There was little danger; it was easy, like humming the same
tune each night with old friends. Candy, the gentlest of the bunch and
the most like an overgrown kitten was in the forefront. He poked at
her; she looked directly at him then opened her mouth wide and
growled. Her chilling growl was part of the show.

Oh crap, but not that rabid-hot look in her eyes! Something

was wrong with her. His blood turned icy and he froze. Candy lashed
out at him with slashing fore paws. Then quick as a bolt of lightning,
she leapt and knocked him down. She tore at his bare flesh with sharp
claws and deadly teeth. Pain radiated through him as he struggled to
fight her off. He inhaled fur, acrid blood, and sweat. He reached for
his stun gun; the tiger slashed at his hand. She was all over him,
chewing, slashing.

Above the crazed growling and his own pained screams, he

heard the stunned uproar of the crowd—followed by a shared gasp,
then shocked silence. The sudden quiet from the stands made the
growling and his hellish outcries ring louder.

Over the non-stop growling, the gate rattled and Tigra’s

strong, authoritative voice ordered Candy back. Tigra wasn’t alone.
Her team was with her. Whips cracked to keep the other tigers in line.
He was too busy and injured to feel more than a twinge of relief.

Again, he reached for his stun gun and discovered he had no

right hand and the left was only a bloody stub. It was up to Tigra and
the team to immobilize Candy.

One of rescue crew shouted. “Dear Jesus. My dart gun’s

empty.”

“Mine too,” Tigra screamed, panic in her voice.
Bloody hell, Rolo thought, someone had sabotaged their act.
The tiger hung on. As Candy shook Rolo, he felt his blood

splatter over his bare chest like rain. Candy’s teeth sank deeper into
his throat, ripping, tearing and then blessed blackness….

****

Tigra knew her tigers well and was positive gentle Candy

wouldn’t attack without good reason. The Circus vet came on the run.
He tested the blood of the immobilized, downed tiger and confirmed
Candy had been drugged. Later at the hospital, tests on the contents of
Rolo’s stomach proved he had been drugged too. “Dear God, please

allow Rolo to survive the attack and let the results of those tests keep
Candy safe from the authorities’ bullets.”

Chapter Two

Hugo Marshall Hall, alias Hugh, raked his midnight black

hair. Cursed by a lycanthropy gene, he’d been in crisis since the day
he was born and the sense of chaos increased by leaps and bounds
each day. As he finished his breakfast with his brother, Damon, a new
wave of loneliness crept into his senses. He’d been a loner most of his
life. Of course he had Damon and Damon’s family, but he craved to
carve out a special Shangri-La in the world for himself and, if very
fortunate, find love.

He poured himself and his brother another cup of coffee and

studied the classified job ads. “Hey, here is something interesting.”
He read the circus ad aloud to Damon twice. He grinned as adrenalin
shot through him. “It offers a recently vacated job with room, board,
and paid world travel.”

Damon frowned. “Recently vacated, hmmm… Does the ad

say why?”

“It’s an ad for a job, not a full history of the position. The

point is—it offers travel and adventure.”

“Haven’t you had enough adventure in your life?”
“Not the right kind.”
“True. And I get why it sounds promising to you. But don’t

leap into anything without checking it out thoroughly. And watch out
for those hard-living circus women. They can eat a man alive.”

“Is there something about you I don’t know? Just how many

circus women have you known?”

“None. Dammit. But I can imagine.”
Hugh shrugged and sighed. Damon’s concerns were

understandable. His brother believed he wore his heart on his sleeve
and that his kindness was his Achilles heel.

“I’ll be careful, but perhaps a circus is the perfect place for

me. Masquerading as a normal person is exhausting. Circus people
are expected to be different, so I just might fit in with the Big Top
family.” A warmth filled him. Family. He craved one of his own.

Damon drained his coffee and then stared into his cup. “You

know we’ll miss you.”

“I know, bro. If only the cure you struggled to perfect had

worked on me, I could have some normalcy in my life. But the way

things are, I just don’t fit in here anymore. I need to meet new people,
spread my horizons, and maybe meet someone like Angela.”

“Good luck. There’s no one like Angela. She’s an original.”
“I have to try.” The freeing of the curse which had finally

worked on Damon and his wife, Angela, was his only hope. It was
love. Not just a general everyday love for others, but a special man-
woman kind of love with a daring willingness to give up everything
for one special soul mate. The evidence suggested the edict of the
prophesy was true because he loved Damon, his family, and the few
friends he been lucky enough to acquire since his resurrection, and
he’d shown a willingness to die for them. Yet those sacrifices hadn’t
cured him.

“I’m as envious as hell of you, bro. I want what you and

Angela have.”

“I want that for you, too. The happiest times with Angela are

the simple moments when we walk down the lane together holding
hands. The intimacies of little things are the moments with the most
meaning in the long run.”

“Then you understand why I want to seek that full heart

experience for myself. Please, bro. Give me your blessings.”

Damon moved his empty cup out of the way, reached over,

and gave him a hug. “You have it. Just stay cautious. You’re a
vulnerable soul.”

“I know that.” All of his life, death had lurked just around the

corner. He wasn’t afraid of dying; he knew what was on the other side
and had learned the benefits or lack thereof depended upon choices
made while alive. It could be a place of goodness and beauty, or a
grave, dank subterranean purgatory of unending emptiness; or for the
truly evil, a fiery hell. “Just wish me luck. I’m ready to find my own
destiny.”

Damon bit his lip. “Good luck, Hugh. You deserve it.” The

catch in his brother’s voice sent a sense of loss through Hugh. But this
was something he had to do. If he got away from the secluded,
imposing mansion and his brother’s family for a while, he might
increase his chances of meeting a woman who was beyond his present
limited sphere.

Damon tilted his head. “It isn’t that easy to find a soul mate

able to set your heart on fire.”

“But I have to try. And if a soul mate isn’t in my near future,

perhaps I can at least find an interesting companion and enjoy a great
adventure along the way.” Images of far away places flashed through
his mind. He’d never traveled and would love to visit all of those
exciting places he’d read about since he’d first learned to read at age
five. What better way than with a traveling circus?

Chapter Three

Vance Skull Kilman, aerialist, garbed in his usual black

performing attire, felt the walls of his caravan-trailer closing in on
him. He grabbed the edge of the kitchen sink counter to quiet his
hands from shaking. He glanced down at the obscure black cloak with
the vibrant blood-red lining thrown over the back of a chair and
fought an urge to slip it around his shoulders. As the lure grew
stronger, he strode to the door and clasped the handle. He let it go as
though it was hot-wired. Only the circumstances of the robbery kept
him from dashing out into the misting darkness to find an
unsuspecting beauty to fulfill his needs. Softly, in the back ground, a
CD played “I Like a Gershwin Tune.” The upbeat music didn’t soothe
his lusting mood. He paced, and then looked out the window at
Tigra’s billboard. Why had he allowed her to get into his blood, his
wretched soul? Probably because she was the only woman who
consistently turned him down.

Why was he torturing himself? There were plenty of women

out there. For tonight, he must curb his carnal, desire. He had a nice
theft game going with the ever-moving circus and mustn’t let his
lustful need and thirst for revenge blow it. Business came first. That
meant he had to keep his wits and relocate the solid gold arrowhead
he’d stolen from the San Bernardino County Museum last night to a
safe spot until the circus pulled up stakes in three weeks. To avoid
discovery, he had to hide his bounty before sun-up. By morning the
grounds could be crawling with police. When trouble went down in a
town, the cops always suspected the traveling gypsies who worked the
Carney-Circus Circuit.

He glanced at the black raven perched on his swing. “You’re

the only one I trust with my secrets.” The bird blinked and stared at
him with beady eyes. Lance sometimes felt silly talking to a bird, but
trusting a human friend was impossible. He learned early on his every
action had an equally dramatic reaction and knew well the dangers of
allowing a co-conspirator to join his world of debauchery. It was
safest to indulge in his wild seductions alone. Intensity and
concentration—traits he tried to conceal under his cloak of
darkness—were the vehicles of his convictions and his raven Blacky
would never reveal anything about him.

Vance leered down at the burlap bag and opened it enough for

Blacky to see inside. “This is my best acquisition since I joined the
circus five years ago,” he told the raven. “The piece was carved from
pure gold in the days of the gold rush by the wealthiest ranch owner
in the area, Arturo Lugo, Sepulveda. It’ll be worth a fortune in
Europe. Hell, even the insurance companies will offer a bundle to get
it back.”

He closed the bag tightly and smiled his long-toothed grin.

The wooded Shandon Hills were a labyrinth of caves. He would
choose the most secluded one, hide his treasure and then when the
circus pulled up stakes to move on, he’d retrieve it and slip it out of
town with the caravan with no one the wiser. Once the treasure was
hidden and secure, he could satisfy his other needs—his craving for
blood and passion.

Chapter Four

Hugh sang a few bars of “They Can’t Take That Away From

Me,” in an effort to shake his gloomy mood. But it was too late;
disconsolate thoughts had snuck up on him and wrapped constricting
tentacles around his soul like a venomous snake. It was March, the
month of his original birth. All day black clouds darkened the sky and
threatened rain. Many years ago, his mother had written in her journal
that it was a black day when, on the 25

th

day of March, he’d sucked in

his first screaming breath-of-air and was born an Aries crippled
shadow in the world. As he developed, his plight worsened beyond
her fears. In manhood, he ended up a hunchback who frightened
women, children, and became a whipping dog for men.

After his other half-brother, Reeves, also a werewolf, ripped

out his throat, a golden-haired angel resurrected him and granted him
a new life and a new muscled body.

“You’re now equal to any man,” she whispered in her silvery

voice. “You’re ageless, and will never look over thirty.”

At the time, looks didn’t matter to him. His concern was the

Lamont curse—he and his brothers were cursed with the lycanthropy
gene and strong lycanthropic impulses.

“You are not a vampire,” the angel had told him. “Rather than

feeding on blood, you will gain your life force or chi from good
deeds.”

He liked the idea of being reborn to help others. It came

natural to him.

“The down-side,” the angel confided, “is you’re still a

werewolf and only you have the power to cure your plight.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.
“In time, if you stay on the right path, it will be revealed to

you,” she said and then floated upward and disappeared into the
clouds.

He’d learned to accept what he couldn’t change. His journey

was difficult, but never boring. In the past, during the years he was a
hated and feared hunchback, his mother and his half-brother, Damon,
showed the kind of the sincere compassion and validation which
made his life bearable. In gratitude, he assisted his mother until she
died; then he dedicated his life to Damon, serving him in whatever

capacity he could in exchange for a home. Damon showed him
undying kindness.

Hugh sighed. For years his goal had centered on protecting

Damon and his family from the deadly assaults from brother Reeves
and other evil beings. But all that was in the past. His job as protector
was no longer needed. It was time to look forward into the unknown
future and find his place in this complicated world.

As he moved closer to his destination, the misting, dark sky

brightened slightly. The circus had tied down on the flat acreage of
vacant land adjacent to the Shandon Foothills, on the outskirts of the
city of San Bernardino under the shadow of the Arrowhead Springs
Hotel.

A twinge of excitement shot through him. The traveling circus

would be moving on soon to Scotland, and he could barely wait to
visit the country with its brooding castles, wooded hills, snaking
rivers, and misty mountain peaks.

Hugh’s eager steps were muted by his Indian moccasins. Like

the wolf in him, he preferred to move swiftly and silently through his
environment. He glanced up at the sky again. Its misting, moonless
darkness was a troublesome tradition for the circus. The day the
extravaganza came to town rain would follow. According to the
newspapers, in the past, management had tried an April opening and
still the rain came and almost drowned them out.

The moonless grayness worked for him. It lessened his call of

the night and his propensity to roam the hills. This evening he had to
tend to business. He needed a job—this job. The ever-moving circus
and it’s bounty of animals seemed the perfect solution.

He had the expertise circus-management needed and he’d

worn his tool belt to impress the bosses. It now swayed against his hip
with each step.

Hugh smiled. He loved animals and children and wouldn’t

mind trying out for a trainer or clown position. An urge rose in him to
tackle anything and everything. He could handle it all; abilities gained
through difficulties and inner-growth gave the kind of training no one
could take away. He sighed. The truth was—he’d accept any job he
could get. As he approached the lively confusion of the circus
grounds, with its brilliantly lighted Ferris wheel, his heart beat faster.
Exciting merry-go-round calliope music blared from the arcade along

with the happy tunes from the tilt-a-whirl and other rides. With the
carnival-circus-setup, jobs should be plentiful.

A stab of doubt shot through him. Was his confidence a

mirage? No, I can do this!

In his other life, before the angel resurrected him, he’d had

glint-less tombstone gray eyes and a hunched back. She found him a
host body blessed with soft, friendly gray eyes. He’d found being
blessed with gentle, smiling eyes helped him in his desire to mingle
with people; he counted on the gray warmth to help land this job and,
if lucky, later make it possible to meet and charm the woman of his
dreams.

He clung to the enticing, glistening chain of hope, dangling

like gold in his mind. He could never have attracted a woman in a
good way when he was a hunchback. He raked his inky hair and stood
tall and straight; with his new erect, strong body he had a chance.
Angela, his brother’s wife, had told him he had a handsome, young-
looking face. He’d tried not to let the compliment go to his head, but
it gave him a measure of confidence to know he no longer repulsed
women.

Hugh glanced up. Evening had brought total darkness to the

moonless sky except for the bright glow spread across the circus
grounds lying directly ahead. As he walked through the fine mist,
anticipation built in his soul. Parents yanked their children forward.
Behind and ahead of him families and groups of laughing people
hurried toward the tall entry arches to buy tickets. He lined up with
them. Then, with tickets in hand they proceeded orderly through the
turn-style gates.

A blanket of lights lay at the bottom of a double Ferris wheel

and around its circumference. The wheel made a slow slice through
the glowing brightness. A din of band music mingled with the hum of
the milling crowds and joined with the distant sound of whizzing cars
on the nearby freeway. He was probably the only one who noticed the
cars. But with his sharp wolf hearing he heard more than regular
humans.

His brown leather jacket, snapped to the neck, protected him

from the brisk wind, but the chill went right through his jeans and the
cold and mounting exhilaration speeded his steps. He followed the
smells of popping corn and cotton candy into the arcade area.

Watching the time, he wandered through the various rides and

their glittering lights including the merry-go-round, the Ferris wheel,
and the whips while listening to barkers and a hodge-podge of lively
music. He familiarized himself with the lay of the land. Yes, yes, this
was the thrilling atmosphere he hoped would be his new traveling
home.

Thick fog crept from the west down from the Cajon Pass,

joined by patches of vapor drifting down from the high mountain
peaks behind the Arrowhead Springs Hotel, an imposing and
brooding historic monument that had survived fires and earthquakes.

He spied a fortune teller’s tent. He smiled. Madam Mystic’s

banner promised a peek at the future for only five bucks. Hugh
remembered Damon’s late-departed crystal gazer, Nola, with
fondness. He wouldn’t have believed looking into the future was
possible, but Damon had sworn Madam Nola was authentic. That
didn’t mean this gal was. But since he had a little time before his job
interview, it might be a kick to get a reading. It would be worth a few
bucks if she told him he’d get this job.

Hugh opened the flap of the fortune teller’s tent and paused.

The inside reeked of
incense and sawdust. Fighting a tickling nose, he glanced around the
dimly lit interior. At the back hung heavy velvet drapes with pasted
cut-outs of coiled rattlers, owls, hawks, stars, and crescent moons. A
painting hung from a wire. It was a familiar piece of art displaying a
full moon and, on a snow-covered boulder, a howling gray wolf.
Along a counter, the Halloween-type décor revealed skulls with what
he hoped were make-believe worm-like snakes crawling out of the
eyes and mouth.

He frowned. The place pandered to the superstitious and easily

frightened. And he was neither. Still, he was ready to high-tail it out
of there when a section of the drapes parted. “Don’t leave, my
brother. I’ve been expecting you. Please, come in and sit down.”

The mystic, a big-boned Amazon-sized African woman with a

calypso accent, waved him in with a flourish. Her arms were muscled
and husky enough to wrestle a bear. The woman’s head was wrapped
in a silk burgundy turban. Her long carroty hair, probably a wig,
frizzed around her strong-jawed face. Was she a man pretending to be
a woman or a woman with masculine features? With such huge

breasts, she was probably female. Either way she lacked feminine
softness and her masculinity made him edgy as hell.

When she lit some low iridescent gold candles, the glint of

her dagger-like nails on
her immense, ham-hock hands blinded him for an instant.

Although feeling an urge get the hell out of there, he sat down,

mesmerized by the stage she’d set and the captivating performance.

“I read tea leaves, palms, and tarot cards,” she said in a raspy

tone. “For a few dollars more, I’ll gaze into the opaque crystal ball
and alert you more intimately to your future…your fate.”

He turned one of his pockets inside out and laughed. “Do you

give discounts to future employees?”

Her heavily made-up eyes narrowed. “So, you’re a tight-fisted

man. Such a pity.”

“Actually, I’m a man without a job.” He grinned. “But then

maybe your spirits already told you that.” If she was on the level,
maybe they also told her he had a prepaid debt card and $18,000 in a
savings account from his work for his brother and from his small
construction business.

“I understand about nearly empty pockets. I, too, was once at

poverty’s door. I can give you a discount on the higher priced reading
this once. But next time the fee will double.”

He shook his head. “What makes you think there’ll be a next

time?”

She laughed, throatily. “The Fates have decreed it. You’ll

see.” She eased her bulky frame into a chair. When it creaked at the
weight, she smoothed non-existent wrinkles from the downy tapestry
covering the round table. A chill slid down his spine when he noticed
the table cloth revealed a forest scene and a baying pack of wolves.
Was her wolf décor a coincidence?”

A huge, Persian sooty black cat jumped up on the table, curled

his tail around his plump, long-haired body, and stared unblinkingly
at Hugh with piercing green eyes.

Hugh loosened his collar. I’ll bet this fortune teller has a rap

sheet a mile long. She definitely has the finesse of a scammer.

He tapped the cloth and gestured toward the wolf painting.

“Do you have a fondness for wolves, Madam Mystic?”

“Yes, and tigers and certain other creatures of the night. But

you didn’t come here to talk about me. So let’s move on. Because I

like you, I’ll give you a very special crystal ball reading.” She met his
gaze and patted the table. “Just as soon as you plunk down your five
bucks.”

Hugh dug the money out of the hidden compartment in his

tool belt. Before it touched the table, the mystic snatched up the bill
and tucked it into the deep, dark cleavage of her at least size-forty
bosoms.

She touched something under the table and the room darkened

and a heady sweet incense sprayed from the mouth of one of the
skulls.

Madam Mystic waved her hand across the crystal ball and

called on the spirits in some African mumbo-jumbo. She tried twice
but nothing happened. “One more time. In special cases like yours,
the spirits are sometimes hesitant to reveal themselves,” she said in an
eerie tone.

“Special cases?”
She put a finger to her lips and gestured to the opaque crystal

ball. It darkened to the color of coal with silver snakes slithering
through it. The mystic’s face took on a sinister look. “You will get
your job, my brother. But sometimes what a passionate Shadu-
protector like you thinks he wants is the very thing that can destroy
him. Yield to desire and you may die.”

****

Hugh left the Fortune Teller’s tent shaking his head. At least

he’d gotten the directions to the office from her. What was that about
Shadu-protector? How could she know about his driving need to
protect? And what about her prophesy? On the one hand Madam
Mystic said he’d get the job, on the other, maybe he shouldn’t want it.
Why was he giving any credence to what she said? He shook off her
ridiculous warning and jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and
wandered around aimlessly, fighting to keep the mystic’s words at
bay and failing. Yield to desire and you may die.

Soon, it was 12:30 am. Rides stopped and one by one lights

clicked off. The crowds got the message and ambled toward the exits.
With the circus closing down for the night, many of the workers
would head for their trailers. His appointment with the boss-man was
in fifteen minutes. He headed in the direction of the office. Damp
threads of grayness met and settled over the maze of tents and
caravans as though concealing their secrets. He groaned; he was

getting melancholy again. He shook off his brooding mood. This is my
new start.

Halfway across the arcade mid-way, he passed a banner

showing a wild-looking beauty wearing only two narrow strips of
what appeared to be tiger fur. She was flanked by two ferocious-
looking tigers. The circus banner proclaimed: Tigra Tortella, Queen
of the Tigers. Hugh laughed. The curvy bundle of wildness could be
the queen of his amusement park anytime.

Whoa! Where did that come from? Apparently my power tool

gene has kicked in. It isn’t like me to think erotic thoughts about a
lady. But her manner of dress…wow! He laughed. What a sensational
match—tigress meets wolf-man. Even though she couldn’t be the real
thing, he dare not even joke about such a ridiculous and risk-ridden
union. Just taking this job was a risk; no one wanted a werewolf
around, especially close to skittish animals. It was essential to keep
his lycanthropy curse a secret. He didn’t need more complications.
Please Lord, let me land this traveling job, and if it is your will,
perhaps allow me to meet a normal lady friend to while away the
hours and end my aching loneliness.

Hugh entered the caravan-trailer marked office. He shook

hands with the husky Carney-circus boss behind the desk, Ralph
Coleman Once Hugh started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m a
hard worker, can think on my feet, and I get along well with others.
I’m a skilled maintenance man, animal handler, jack of all trades, and
the perfect roustabout. I can rig tents, set up high-wire lines and
carnival rides with the best of them.” He rattled on about all the jobs
he’d had and gave his half-brother, Damon, as a reference. Coleman
stared at him with a hard gaze as though seeking more. But he’d given
his best sales pitch and there was nothing more to say, so he shut up
and prayed. After an uncomfortable silence Coleman steepled his
hands. “Do you have any questions, Hugh?”

“Yes, sir. Are you going to hire me?”
Coleman laughed. “With your directness, roustabout

experience, hunger for work, and the fact we’re shorthanded, I’d be
crazy not to hire you. When can you start?”

“Tonight. May I sleep somewhere on the grounds until—”
“You can use caravan thirteen if you’re not superstitious. I’ll

fax your resume to the head office and get you on the payroll. We’ll
start you as a roustabout. And in our operation that means you’ll do

whatever needs to be done. Tigra’s assistant Rolo left quite suddenly,
leaving her shorthanded. Report to her in the morning. She’ll keep
you busy. But watch out for her passions. She tries to pull everyone
she meets into her fight against the capture and caging of wild tigers
as pets. And she’s always heading up a collection to save the big cats
from extinction.”

Hugh smiled. He liked her already. But it added to his anxiety

about the new job to accept he was also thinking how much he’d like
to get into those little strips of fur. Holy demons! He needed a cold
shower. He cleared his throat. “She sounds like a woman after my
own heart.”

Coleman’s gaze darkened. “For your sake, I hope not. And

watch yourself; she has a way of getting what she wants. Take care
around her tigers. They get testy with strangers and, like their trainer,
have a volatile way of getting what they want as well.”

Chapter Five

Aerialist-vampire Vance watched out his caravan’s picture

window for Tigra. He coveted her blood so badly he could taste it. He
looked up at his raven. “You know, Blacky, in my former life, I was
an October 31

st

Scorpio with an extraordinary capacity to remake

myself into a suitable image in line with my needs. I feel confident I
can portray an image to Tigra which will eventually unite us.”

He gently lifted the bird from the perch and stroked his

smooth coal black feathers.“One of my most useful qualities is my
ability to adapt well to each lifetime,” he told the bird with pride in
his voice. He stared across the room with his dark, haunting eyes,
seeing his past flashing before him. Perhaps seeing it all in a flash was
necessary because of the many lifetimes behind him. “Blacky boy, did
I ever tell you I was a professor in one of my journeys and an actor in
another? It was beneficial to be able to hang onto what I’d learned
each time.”

“It’s odd, in my journey through each existence, I never found

a woman worthy to span eternity with me—until Tigra. Besides being
an enticing challenge, there’s something super-natural and ethereal
about her.” He felt heat shoot to his groin. “The high eroticism and
mystery about her has convinced me she’d never bore me and would
always arouse me. Inconveniently, trails of other men have felt the
same way about her. One by one, I eliminated them. Rolo was the
easiest of all. But they kept coming like ants to honey. Let them
come, if they dare.”

Blacky squawked as if he understood.
Vance laughed. “Right, Blacky. In a circus where all acts have

inherent danger, there are many creative way to maim and kill. Rolo
learned that.”

The raven flew from his finger and landed back on his perch.

At the sound of a car outside, Vance glanced out the window. It was
merely a taxi. No problem there. Cars could come and go all night as
far as he was concerned—just not cop cars. But the cops would arrive
soon.

“The pretend vampires who filed their teeth to points and slept

in coffins gave vampires too much publicity and made it more

difficult to keep a low profile while the humans around me
demonstrated their own predatory propensities,” he told the bird.

He shook his head. The vampire and human world

interpenetrated in odd common bonds, both with virtuous and
parasitic mannerisms.

Grabbing up a pitcher of water, he tipped it and drank it down

without stopping, in an attempt to satisfy his enormous thirst.

“Blast the humans who believe they rule the Earth! Damn

them all to Hell.”

Vance glanced at Blacky for agreement. “Humans shouldn’t

blame or condemn me. After all, everyone has a dark side and before I
was betrayed, I was human just like them. I still possess a partially
human consciousness. I feel pain, passion, a lust for revenge, and
overwhelming desire. And right now I crave a soft, unsuspecting
female’s throat between my fangs and long for her life-sustaining,
warm blood.”

He heard light footsteps and fixed his gaze on the path outside

his window. He smiled. It was the luscious tiger queen.

****

Keeping a smooth pace, Vance Skull followed behind Tigra.

When they approached a refreshment stand, he made his move.
“Please, Queen Tigra, wait up.”

She smiled and waited. “What do you need, Skully?”
“I thought we could grab a cup of coffee while I tell you about

my idea for a new act.” He’d learned that with Tigra, it always had to
be about business or she wouldn’t spare the time.

“Okay, but it’ll have to be quick. I’m super busy and have a

bunch of bookwork to catch up on tonight.”

Blast her! Even after five years, he hadn’t been able to connect

with her beyond the wary co-worker stage all the Carney and circus
people share.

“I won’t keep you long,” he said. “Just let me grab the coffee.”

After the guy in the jaunty cap handed him the drinks, Skully led
Tigra to an umbrella table and pulled the chair.

He smiled his widest grin. “Your Majesty.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Thanks. Okay, now that we’re comfy,

what’s your plan?”

He winked at her. “I want to up the danger in my act and make

the audience squirm.”

The vibes arcing between them told him she found him

attractive. Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?

After he explained his no net idea, she crumpled her empty

coffee container and said. “It sounds good, but our insurance carriers
will want safety assurances. Draft a plan and get your partner to agree
to it and I’ll see what I can do. Now, I must run.”

“Okay, but how about taking time off sometime this week to

do some sightseeing. There’s some great historical places nearby to
see. I could rent a car and—”

“Sorry, but I have too much to do.”
“What about just a walk to get our bearings.”
“I appreciate it, Skully, but I like to walk alone. It’s my

thinking time.”

He rubbed the throbbing muscle in his jaw. Damn. Her

refusals might be due to her always being in a relationship with one
guy or another. That was okay. He would win in the end. He always
did.

Waiting for her was worth it. One day he’d excite her passion

and taste her blood. Then she’d willingly span lifetimes with him.

Vance forced a smile. She waved good-by and took off

running. He could easily catch her, but the timing wasn’t right.
Patience was a hard earned virtue when it came to the Queen of
Tigers. She was different than the others. The others were temporary
sexual chattels. He didn’t require their blood to survive, but he had an
enormous thirst for it. The act of killing wasn’t merely to fill his
emptiness. His mundane victims, or dehumanized objects…actually
his possessions…were there for his sexual pleasure and without
remorse he tossed them aside at the end of their usefulness. He chose
to look at his need for prey and revenge as a service to humanity; he
fit into the annihilation part of the balanced cycle of creation,
destruction, and re-creation. It made sense to him. His existence and
intensity were locked irrevocably with death and revenge.

To join with him someday, Tigra would have to surrender to

his heart of darkness and die. That essence of the fatal attraction was
the cost of the greatest sexual high and rapture she would ever
experience and the additional gift of eternal life. He’d force her to
accept, even crave and beg for his brand of eroticism. His human
qualities made it easy to get close to her. His fortunate good looks and

charm were part of his disguise. Yet, some wary instinct in her always
made her pull back. He knew a solution, and when the time was right,
he would win and they would begin their eternal dance. It sounded so
exquisite; he was as tempted as hell to take action now. Maybe if he
caught up with her…

Chapter Six

Tigra inhaled, trying to absorb all the sensual pleasures of her

run through the low brown hills. She hungrily yet warily took in the
sights and sounds, enjoying the magic. Wisps of fog drifted between
the trees like restless ghosts, while an icy wind moaned a lonesome
sorrow. This was a night to sit before a flaming fire, but the isolation
of the night made it the idyllic and safest time to roam the rural
landscape. Still, she didn’t feel totally safe. She’d had the prickly
feeling she wasn’t alone in the wilds. Behind her dried branches
snapped and leaves crackled. God, don’t let it be Skully. He could be
a pain in the ass. Heeding the warning, she turned back toward the
circus grounds, running full speed.

Relief shot through her when she caught sight of the stilled,

lightless Ferris wheel piercing the dark, cloudy sky. She keyed into
the safety of grounds, yet the eerie feeling clung to her like tree sap.
The arcade tents and the Big Top’s dim security lighting emphasized
the deep shadows. Most of the caravans were pitch-black. Then she
spied the lighted banner and an arrow of sorrow shot through her.
Management still had the banner of her and Candy up. Her heart grew
heavy, thinking about Rolo and Candy. The tiger attack on Rolo last
week in Los Angeles was a human’s fault, yet the authorities put
Candy down. It was so unfair. Someone had drugged her. Tigra shook
her head; tigers were gentle and harmless except in those mysterious
cases when unknown circumstances transformed them into man
killers. But this wasn’t the case here. Someone out to get Rolo was
behind this. The drugs the investigators discovered in Candy’s and
Rolo’s stomachs, and bloody meat drippings on Rolo’s clothing
proved that. She felt pressure building behind her eyes, then a lone
tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away. Quiet anger curled in
her gut. The only other thing the cops needed was the name of the evil
culprit who instigated the attack. But with no clear evidence pointing
directly to a perpetrator, when their circus moved on to this location,
the L.A. authorities moved on to another case. Now poor Rolo clung
to life by a frayed thread.

Thinking back at the accidents over the past couple of years, it

seemed something bad happened to every man who had shown her
extra attention. She and Rolo had become fond of each other through

working closely together, but she was his boss and she hadn’t allowed
the relationship to bloom into a romance. And it wasn’t just Rolo she
guarded her heart against. Her loner flaw always battled with her
mothering spirit. Locked into her dual nature, she knew the dangers of
having a relationship with a man that included family and children.
She fought any relationship that edged too close and threatened her
heart. Years ago, she’d accepted that being born with a dual nature
wasn’t within the realm of rehabilitation. And because Rolo didn’t set
her pulse to racing, she’d felt the friendship with him was safe.
Unfortunately, he’d proven to want more than her brotherly affection
for him. Now he was close to death and she felt responsible for letting
him go into the cage when his emotion raced out of balance. If he
died, she wouldn’t stop until she proved who set off the chain of
events that took his and Candy’s lives.

Because of the series of other so called “incidents” the

perpetrator had to be someone connected to the circus.

She felt guilty for not putting up a stronger fight when the

authorities appeared to lose interest in the case. If it weren’t for her
absolute need to keep a low profile due to her closely guarded secret,
she would have raised a huge ruckus.

It was getting more and more risky for her to be associated

with the circus. Rumors of thefts had also followed them. In L.A. it
was a priceless painting. In San Diego it was a sterling silver vase
worth several thousand dollars. Now, did the circus and its maze of
tents and caravans hide the priceless golden arrowhead—and the
identity of the thief? Each time a theft was uncovered the police came
and questioned the closed-mouthed circus folks and carnies. And each
time they left empty-handed. Whoever was behind the crimes had to
be admired for their efficiency, intelligence, and self-preservation.

The trail of thefts was minor compared to the sinister killings

that followed the circus across the country. It became more apparent
each day that either there was a killer among them, or the monster
was a circus follower. Either way, she had to find a way to end his
reign of senseless killing.

There might even be more than one killer in their ranks. Each

time they visited a city the newspapers heralded alarm about a
vampire in the area. Young, beautiful woman were bitten in the neck,
drained of blood and left to die slow agonizing deaths or were
outright slaughtered. The reporters in all their drama called the

perpetrator a nefarious neckaholic and suggested it was either a
vrykolakas, vampire, or a lycanthrope, werewolf to blame. Now,
tigers had joined the list. They’d called gentle Candy a crazed killer.
There was some mention of the Feds being brought in. She didn’t care
if they brought in the military. She just wanted the killing to stop.

Tigra touched her lips. Could a vampire or werewolf live and

work among them? She recalled the eerie feeling of being followed
earlier. No…no a demon traveling with the circus was too ridiculous,
wasn’t it? What about my own secret? No, anything was possible. I’ll
have to stay alert and wear a cross and carry a sharp stake. Or was
that method of killing a vampire an old wives’ tale? She touched the
silver cross Grandy had given to her for her thirteenth birthday.
Tomorrow she’d start carrying a stake as well on her runs.

She shook off her uneasiness. The circus was never totally

silent and she felt warmed by the friendly sounds of animals moving
about and their familiar grunts, whinnies, and growls.

Her boss often said her humanness and gentle nature interfered

with her toughness, a toughness needed in her line of work. She
needed extra strength and fortitude to find a way to shield her circus
family from the evil circling around them like vultures.

She rounded the line of rigs and spied caravan thirteen, Rolo’s

place. With him in the hospital in L.A. why were all the lights on?
She frowned. Something was awry.

It was too late to bother the boss. Maybe Coleman left a

message on my cell. She headed for her caravan, grabbed her unit off
the table, and checked it. She hadn’t taken her cell into the hills; the
rolling mounds blocked the signal and rendered the unit useless. She
pressed play.

“I have a surprise for you,” Coleman said. “It’ll arrive at your

office in the morning.”

She frowned. Her boss’s surprises usually included something

to make more work for her or upped the danger of her act. Maybe
he’d found a replacement for Candy. He’d been trying to acquire a
Siberian male, the world’s largest cat. Well, she’d worry about that in
the morning. Right now she had other plans. She was about to leave,
when she heard a rustling on the other side of the open window. She
grabbed a hunting knife and slid it into her leg holster. “Lurk around
at your own risk,” she said loud enough for any peeping tom outside

to hear. Whoever he was, she wasn’t letting him scare her off. She
had things to do before retiring.

****

Skull returned to the circus grounds behind Tigra and lurked

outside her window for a few minutes, hoping to see her undress. He
could have connected with her in the wilds, but an inner wisdom had
told him to hold off. It could have been a rapturous encounter there in
the picturesque rolling hills. Or he could have dragged her to one of
the nearby caves and taken her in darkness.

No, with her, he wouldn’t hurry it; anticipation was part of the

thrill. In a day or two, he would choose his next victim, create a
telepathic bond, and use his mesmerizing power of hypnotism to go
into the very soul of the poor helpless creature. He imagined the gory
glory. His mind, his brain and hers would lock in psychedelic
euphoria, and they’d soar to a wild and heightened erotic state. In that
state, their brains would produce their own hallucinogens. It would be
glorious…then would come his favorite part…the gore and his
afterglow.

****

Tigra stepped out of her caravan, tensed and ready for

anything. She had to go to her tigers. Stripes and Sly were still upset
and edgy over last week’s attack on Rolo and the disappearance of
Candy. She wanted to get them out of the cages for a while. With the
grounds quiet and deserted, she felt it was safe to walk them without
fear of running into someone. And if she ran into the peeping tom, too
bad for him.

She put the tigers on special heavy duty leather leashes, and

burning with curiosity, she headed toward caravan thirteen.

****

Hugh stepped out the door of caravan thirteen and sat down on

the steps, far too excited to sleep. At a ferocious growl, he looked up
and saw two tigers straining at leashes held by Tigra Tortella, the
Queen of Tigers. She no longer wore those exciting strips of fur, but
the jeans and sweater were no less enticing. She wasn’t as big as her
banner suggested. Could the petite version of the Queen hold back
two giant lurching tigers? He stood, ready to take any needed action.

Tigra glared at him with slanted cat eyes. “What are you doing

in Rolo’s Caravan?” Her tone was devoid of friendliness and her
sensuous lips curled like those of her tiger friends.

A flash of annoyance rose and then rolled off of him. “Mr.

Coleman assigned me this unit. I’m a new hire to take Rolo’s place
until he returns. I’m supposed to report to you in the morning.”

“To begin with, buddy, no one can take Rolo’s place. But if

the boss hired you, I suppose he saw talents not yet apparent to me.
What do you know about big cats?”

He frowned. She had a crumby attitude but somehow the sexy

tilt of her head and the saucy lift of her breasts made irritation and
apprehension secondary emotions. He shifted and then said the first
thing that popped in his head. “Mating is often a lively and seemly
violent ritual among tigers—then after, they calm down and loll side
by side.”

“Don’t toy with me, Mr.… What did you say your name

was?”

“Didn’t say, Ma’am.”
Hugh’s cool slipped another notch, making his heart pound

erratically. He managed to smile. Damn. She was baiting him, but by
hiding his irritation he’d strike a quicker blow than if he let her see
how badly she’d gotten to him. “I’m Hugo Marshall Hall. I prefer to
be called Hugh.” He stuck out his hand and, after glancing at the
tigers, withdrew it. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait until tomorrow to
shake hands, when you’re not flanked with your pets.”

“Good decision. What else do you know about tigers?”
“They need love, care, and patient handling.” Probably much

like the Queen herself, he thought. “And frankly, I hate to see them
caged up.” Most of the time. But not tonight. He darted a wary look at
the tigers. “Isn’t it a little dangerous to take big cats for a walk like
domestic pets?”

She threw back her head and laughed with a bitter tone. Her

reddish-blonde hair was waist-length and wild. She’d approached
close enough for him to see that her cat eyes were emerald green. She
was dangerously beautiful. His hands sweated and he felt a facial tic
near the corner of his eyelid.

Her shapely feline beauty sent heat to his lower regions, but

he was too uneasy to appreciate the experience. She and her cats
looked as though they were about to eat him alive.

“There’s no danger unless I shout attack.” Her words were a

soft, seductive purr.

Was her arousing tone spoken for a purpose other than to

avoid alarming the cats?

“Look, if my staying in Rolo’s place upsets you I can find

shelter in the hills. I need this job and I don’t want any trouble. You’ll
find I’m a hard worker and I’ll stay out of your way, if that’s what
you want. Okay?”

“Sounds like a deal.”
As he admired her curves and feline slenderness, Hugh

reminded himself she was a lifetime gypsy and he was merely a temp-
gypsy, out to see the world before settling down.

She bent and whispered something to the tigers. Her jeans and

sweater molded to her slender, firm-looking body. The wool neckline
barely contained her beautiful tan mounds and the kind of cleavage
he’d love to get lost in. Testosterone flooded his system. He usually
could control thinking of sex around a beautiful woman…at least two-
percent of the time.

She straightened, thrusting out her ample breasts. His heart

raced and his heart wasn’t the muscle he wanted to exercise. He tried
to keep breathing, tried to keep his heart from going into cardiac
arrest, but the mental image of the banner with the tiger-queen in
those two little strips of fur sent a new surge of heat to his groin.

Oh, Lord, help me, he prayed silently. My lustful reaction is

more dangerous than jumping off a high wire into a pit of fire. The
tiger queen definitely isn’t the Sunday school-teacher type I need and
looking to befriend. This wild woman who seems more comfortable
with her tiger friends than people isn’t someone I should be interested
in pursuing. What am I going to do? Everything about her intrigues
me, fascinates me, including the defiant gleam in her eyes.

Her features were delicate, yet her manner was as strong and

disturbing as her “pets.” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes,
flashing glinting sparks from those slanted emerald eyes. Then she
turned away, leading the tigers with her. She glanced back over her
shoulder. “Just stay out of the way of the tigers and we’ll get along
well enough.”

Chapter Seven

Tigra prayed the morning’s stormy weather would clear by

afternoon. Circus revenues couldn’t stand another dreary day. Her
jumble of concerns for the circus, everyone’s jobs, Rolo, and her own
well-being were like dagger-like hail on her nerves. Grandy, her
adopted grandpa, always said her loner nature didn’t match her
mothering instincts and one day soon her dual natures would whip
around like a striking rattler and bite her in the ass. If being cautious
and guarding her heart was a flaw, she felt too vulnerable to even
attempt to overcome it.

With her duality secret, learning to completely trust anyone

probably wasn’t possible anyway. In self-defense, she had to
continually grow as a woman, strengthen her back bone to the
ultimate, and remain aware of all the signs of danger in time to ward
off trouble. Her wariness had made her a loner and she tried to
convince herself she liked going solo. Her complicated existence had
been manageable up to now and the promises of improvements in her
life professionally and financially were coming to pass. She glanced
up at the calendar—it was 2010, the Chinese year of the tiger and
according to those who studied such things, it was a year holding
great promise not only for those born under the sign, but also for
those with tiger blood flowing in their veins. With the fast pace of all
of the astrological signs this year, she knew better than to make a
hasty decision like the one she faced. In spite of the good things
coming to pass, horrific incidents like the tiger attack on Rolo had
created a dark cloud over her existence. Personally and romantically
her life was on the downward plunge of the roller coaster and she
didn’t need another complication.

Since Hugh came on the scene, her emotions whirled out of

control like a runaway tilt-a-whirl. She paced her caravan office, lit
only by dim, shadow-inducing lamplight. A clap of thunder broke
nearby. She shivered and went to the window as a bolt of lightning
arced and illuminated the circus grounds and the still, dark Ferris
wheel, giving the usually glowing arcade an eerie quality.

An icy chill slid down her spine. She rubbed her arms and then

with a fingertip, she followed a water droplet as it slithered down the
outside of the windowpane like a translucent snake. Frowning, she

paced again, unable to shake her edginess. She’d always dreamed of
performing. And since she’d hit adulthood, her long-term goal had
always been to make a successful career with the circus and enjoy a
semblance of harmony in her life. She looked upward. Lord, is that so
much to ask?

She’d worked hard to be her best self. Long ago with Grandy’s

support and encouragement, she’d established her goals and high
standards of professional conduct. Each day she challenged herself
with self-assurance to fulfill her potential. But since meeting Hugh
last night, the ground under her feet trembled as though shivering on a
bed of liquefaction.

She plunked down at her desk and thumbed through the circus

receipts. She was luckier than some at the circus. She pulled in two
generous incomes. Besides entertainer, she was the on-site accountant
and book-keeper. A stream of hazy light fell across her desk. She
went to the window and stared out. The mist had lifted and the sun
poked through the ceiling of gray clouds. Halleluiah! The circus
needed the burst of sunshine to draw the crowds. And she needed the
brightness to improve her mood.

With the foul weather they were experiencing, it was ironic

that the next tune on her CD was “Summertime”.

She sang a few bars then sank back into her churning

thoughts. Other than her secret affliction, she was pretty satisfied with
her achievements and enjoyed being admired for her show-woman-
ship and tiger-handling talents. Everything seemed connected; if she
didn’t have the affliction, she might not have had the same bond with
the tigers. But was she meeting her own expectations?

Rolo getting mauled during her act had given her a stomach-

churning sense of failure, and her necessary secrecy brought on a
dangerous moodiness which could contribute to an increased edginess
among the tigers. To heighten her challenge, she was forced to take
on an inexperienced and very disturbing trainer.

There had to be a way to protect this Hugh fellow, until she

could test his abilities. It didn’t help that he was like a sliver
embedded deeply under tender skin. Gnawing shadowy images of him
under the dim lighting of his caravan flipped through her mind. His
thick, dark, highly arched eyebrows and his intense gaze in the
haziness were perplexing, a little terrifying, and yet the composite of
him seemed to add up to something enthralling and intriguing. She

tried to push thoughts of him aside and concentrate on her agenda for
the day. But blast it, the agenda included training him.

Due to her sharp tiger hearing, the sound of light footsteps on

the steps alerted her. She tucked a strand of long auburn hair behind
her ear with tense fingers.

Although forewarned, she flinched at the tap on her door.

“Come in,” she said, sensing it was him and mentally gearing up to
handle her reaction to the disturbing hunk-of-manhood.

Hugh removed his dripping, water soaked baseball cap, and,

ducking, entered the caravan office, filling the space with his
imposing presence. His stance was alert, almost coiled like some wary
creature from the wilds. He stomped his wet moccasins on the entry
rug and shook the silken strands of shoulder-length midnight-black
hair in such a way the florescent lights picked up glints of blue in his
dark tresses.

She sensed a quickening of her heartbeat and feared her eyes

were giving away how glad she was to see this virtual stranger. What
was there about him that his mere presence sent her into a tailspin like
this?

As though in answer to her question, ridiculous irony struck

again, the CD was now softly playing, “Love Walked In.”

No way! her brain screamed while she battled the insane urge

to rush to him and run her fingers through the waves. Was his mane as
wet, slippery, and silky as it looked? Even in the dreary light, she
thought she saw some kind of aura around the man. Her compelling
feeling was too strong to dismiss.

She met his gaze unflinchingly for a long moment. His eyes

were gray. But gray didn’t get to the essence of those eyes. Not by a
long shot. They were striking, unusual eyes. Gentle eyes that seemed
never to blink and held hers with unnerving tenderness as if he could
see her flaws and accepted them.

She inhaled deeply and gestured to a chair. Even after he sat

down, she felt his effortless dominance. She frowned and regarded
him covertly. She was getting mixed signals. There was something
feral about this new roustabout. Even his damp odor in the close
quarters had an earthy quality. His scent wasn’t puzzling. The circus
was full of swirling scents, furry and non-furry creatures and being so
close to the hills, even woodsy. The scent wasn’t unpleasant. His
wary glance flicked to hers and held, captivating her with his

magnetism. In spite of his soft gray eyes, she sensed something
untamed in this man beyond sex appeal. It wasn’t just his animal
presence. Everything about him disturbed her. He was like a
fascinating puzzle with missing pieces.

“Mr. Coleman told me to give you this, Miss Tigra.” He

handed her a copy of a filled out application.

She flicked it harder than necessary. “Okay, Mr. Hugh Hall.

Let’s see what impressed Mr. Coleman enough to hire you.” She
glanced over the paper work. “Seems you have some skills.”

“I’m a thorough, hard worker, but I'll leave it up to you to

decide if my skills match my claims. If it’ll help, I won’t let you
down. I need this job badly.”

His last words, in spite of her shield against it, touched her

heart. Damn him. The man was soft-spoken and unassuming, yet he
wore his tall, lean imposing height like some damned king of the
jungle. She tried not to be overwhelmed by his firm, leanly-muscled
body. It wasn’t just his bod that fascinated her. He had about the most
arresting, slightly wolfish features she’d ever seen. It was as if the
Lord had combined him and something wild and feral to mold the
perfect alpha man.

“So, what can you do for me that will make you stand out

from the other applicants?”

Did he just blush? Her own cheeks felt warm.
“Er…Whatever the job calls for, Miss Tigra. I’m a quick

study.”

She forced her off balance mind to focus on pertinent

questions, but it was the most difficult interview she’d ever
conducted…yet simple in reality. The boss wanted him, so she had to
go along with it.

As they discussed the job, she noted his accent was

“California Class.” His intelligent eyes and quick-witted answers to
her questions revealed a man who read a lot, and his diction and quick
grasp of the operation and what was expected of him boasted of an
excellent education and maybe some voice training.

Perhaps he was experienced at rigging tents and setting up the

rides, but that wouldn’t have been her first guess. He wore new Indian
moccasins. Hmm… “It’s safer to wear thick-soled boots while
working on the circus grounds,” she said.

His mesmerizing eyes glinted. “I have boots, and when the job

calls for it, I’ll wear them.”

“Good.” She studied him, looking for something else to

complain about. His denim jeans and shirt were new, creased,
expensive, fit to perfection, and emphasized his long, muscled legs.
The denim clung to every curve and bulge of him, showing off the
clean design of the cut like a model for high-end classic labor wear.
And he had the great abs, pecs, flat stomach, and firm butt to pull off
the whole effect. He was definitely too sexy for her peace of mind.
What was a man with so much going for him doing apply for a
roustabout job? Or did this too-good-to be-true hunk-of-manhood
have another reason for joining the circus?

“Do you like tigers, Hugh? You seemed a little wary last

night.”

His nostrils flared. There was a reasonable excuse if he caught

a whiff of tiger—she trained them. He scooted his chair forward,
moving a little too close for comfort. The feralness about him was
dangerous to her sanity.

“I love animals,” he said, “and I’m against people who cage

wild animals and try to mold them into domestic pets. But after
hearing about the attack on your previous assistant, I decided not to
crowd your furry buddies.”

She figured there was an insult in his words aimed at her, but

his comment about being against the caging of undomesticated
creatures made her like Hugh in spite of her effort not to warm to him.
“Animals sense fear.”

“I’m not a particularly fearful man. Just cautious.” Hugh

leaned forward. “But what about your last assistant? Your boss said
he had a little accident and probably wouldn’t be back.”

They sat looking at each other for several heartbeats, his gray

eyes probing.

She took in a deep, fortifying breath. “Rolo was mauled by a

tiger and is only hanging on by a thread in an L.A. hospital. It looks
like he might not make it.”

She pressed her lips tight to control the tremor in them. The

coldness in her tone didn’t express her sisterly feelings of guilt. She’d
sent flowers and called daily to check on him, but her affection for the
downed Italian Stallion had never been more than brotherly. Still it

hurt that their last conversation had been so hostile. If only she could
erase their bitter words.

“Was the attacker one of those pets I met last night?”
She stiffened and felt a stab to her heart. “No. The authorities

put that dear, unfortunate tiger down. In my opinion, it was cruel and
unnecessary, but apparently the circus insurance and public safety
required it.”

She held Hugh’s gaze. Would this big strapping roustabout

quit now that he knew the danger. “Still want the job?”

“Why not? Did you think I’d run at the first sign of trouble? It

sounds like you can use some assistance and I was born to help.” He
winked. “Especially damsels in distress.”

Tigra shook her head. “You’ve got a brazen mouth and a flirty

eye, Hugh, but you’ve also got guts. I’ll give you that.” She ran her
sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans. He had to have an angle.
What was he after besides a job? Was he some kind of disguised
reporter digging for sensationalism, or an undercover man from the
insurance company hoping to uncover something to negate payment?
Whatever it was, he’d better watch his step. “I have an idea for a new
act. Ready to get to work?”

He laughed. “I’m chomping at the bit. Lead the way.”
Stepping over puddles, she led him across the arcade and

inside the Big Top to an empty cage. She gestured to it. “This cage
has two false invisible exits, just large enough for a tiger to crawl
through. My idea is for you to pretend to turn me into a tiger. I will
enter the cage as Tigra, Queen of Tigers and you will place a black
weighted curtain over the cage and say abracadabra. Using the false
doors I will change places with a tiger. Then you uncover the cage, let
him out, and put the roaring beast through its paces without allowing
it to eat you. Think you can do that?”

“Sure. If you work with me and the tiger until the animal is

used to me.”

“Not much time for training before tonight’s show. That’s

why I decided to do this act. I can control the results better than
having you do Rolo’s regular warm-up act with five tigers. The tiger,
Stripes, is one of the big cats you met last night. He’s well trained.
And you won’t have to perform with him for over five minutes and
then you’ll herd him back into the cage and say your magic words to
make me re-appear.”

“I’ve never studied magic. Perhaps—”
“That’s okay. I’ll handle the illusion part. Your function is

simple and the added intrigue should give the crowds a thrill. After
we take our bows, you go back behind the partition with the other
handlers and I’ll do the rest of the act with the other tigers alone.”

“What if gentle little Stripes decides to eat me?”
She laughed. “We’ll try to remember to feed him an extra side

of beef before the act. All you’ll have to worry about is staying away
from his sharp claws.”

Hugh arched a wicked brow. “Is that all?” His deep tone

vibrated through her. “Good thing I’m a trusting guy.”

She liked his wry sense of humor and wondered if he was

really so courageous or just unaware of how dangerous tigers could
be. She laughed to herself—especially female tigers.

****

The band finished playing, “It Ain’t Necessarily So,” with a

flourish. Hugh wondered if their choice of music was an omen. This is
insane. I’m going into a cage with a live tiger. What if it senses I’m a
wolf?

The Big Top crowd hummed with mounting tension. The

announcer made a big deal out of the news that Tigra was performing
a new act with an inexperienced assistant and stressed, in an ominous
tone, that anything could happen.

Hugh’s apprehension grew stronger… talk about a werewolf

out of the wilds. I’m completely out of my element. Then, Tigra looked
up at him with those incredible cat-green eyes and smiled. “Ready?”

He took a deep breath, nodded, and, suddenly feeling daring,

defiant, and prepared to match her confidence, he followed her into
the center of the performance cage. Then he looked down at himself.
Shirtless, wearing skin-tight black leather tights, strutting the way
she’d taught him made him feel damned foolish. He pushed his
discomfort from his mind and concentrated on her. She was force,
fire…and fabulous. She stretched her legs their full length and strutted
about a moment in those two little strips of fur, revealing her
gorgeous slender body. When she slipped her soft, firm hand into his,
electricity sparked between them. Testosterone flooded his system.
Together they bent and bowed low. The strip of fur across her breasts
somehow magically contained those beautiful tan mounds and the
kind of cleavage he’d love to get lost in.

What would she do if he grabbed her and kissed her; sic her

tigers on him then fire his butt? Damn. He had serious business to
conduct and it was no time to learn he could be a letch around a sexy
woman.

He knew the program. With another bow and an exaggerated

flourish, he assisted the beautiful Queen of Tigers into the cage. He
imagined pulling her down on the cage floor and...

Damn. Damn. With determination, he closed and tested the

door to assure everyone the lock was firmly engaged. He quickly
covered the cage with the heavy velvet drape and then waved his
whip over the top and said the magic word, “abracadabra,” in a
booming voice.

In spite of his superior hearing, he heard nothing beneath the

drape, no doors clanging, no metal sliding or fur rustling. It didn’t
matter; his instructions were to count to ten and then move quickly
without hesitation. After the count, he whisked the drape away. And
to his surprise, Tigra was gone and a snarling tiger paced inside the
cage.

God, protect me, he said silently. Then he took a deep breath,

opened the cage door, and let the tiger into the ring. Growling, the
beast rushed toward him, its orange body in muscular swaying
motion.

Stripes was a Panthera Tigris and the only breed of the big

cats with stripes. Though the tigers’ pelt of black on orange made it
the most recognizable animal in the world, no two were the same.
This tiger was a Panthera Tigris, but it was not Stripes! This cat’s
stripes were as distinctive as fingerprints and the animal seemed more
powerful, magnetic, and ruthless. Hugh looked closer. And it was a
female! Apparently the handlers had decided to use a different tiger.
Damn. Changes to the plan were bad, very bad. With a tiger charging
toward him, it was too late to complain. Just follow the program.
Whatever happens, I’ll bet this moment will be chiseled in my mind
forever. If I live through it.

He cracked his whip. The tiger was supposed to get up on the

pedestal, paw the air a couple of times and do a few tricks. Then he
was supposed to herd it back into the cage. Instead of following the
routine, the tigress crept toward him, low to the ground like a
predator.

The crowd gasped collectively, apparently sensing he was in

trouble. How many spectators knew about the attack on Tigra’s
former assistant and thirsted for more spilled blood? Not wanting to
harm the tiger or vice versa, he had to try hypnosis and create a
telepathic bond.

Hugh got down on all fours and met the animal’s gaze. The

rich iris patterns of this animal’s eyes seemed frighteningly familiar.
He knew such markings, like human fingerprints were unique and
identifiable with close scrutiny. The tigress looked directly at him,
then opened her mouth wide and growled. The hell with pupil
analysis. This wasn’t going at all well. Don’t the handlers recognize
I’m in a jam? I could shift into a wolf and fight this cat muzzle to
muzzle or go for its throat… but…no…no that wasn’t even an option.
He intensified his gaze, locking minds with the beast,
hoping…praying for a bond…

****

Tigra in her feral cat form was stunned at the impact, and

intensity of Hugh’s gaze; she had wanted to test his mettle and found
herself being tested equally. She paused, took a deep breath, and
through her tiger eyes she stared at him. The glow from the dazzling
Big Top lights emphasized his strong features. She yearned to forget
the building crisis, and her need to test him, and instead run her
fingers through his devastating black hair, alive with blue glints, kiss
him senseless, then drag him into the hills and show him what rough
tiger-passion was all about. How could she think like that now? It was
his reactions! He wasn’t acting like she expected and the unforeseen
was turning her on. His direct, honest reaction to a tiger attack was
amazing and frightening. She had wanted to throw a little scare into
him. Instead, he’d drawn her into some kind of spell. Who was this
man…what was this man?

****

Hugh let loose with a gush of air in great relief when the

tigress turned and leapt up on the pedestal. It pawed the air a few
times. He cracked his whip and it returned to the cage. He closed the
door with a slam. Thank you, God, he prayed on another tremendous
exhale of relief. But it was no time to rest on his laurels. He had to
finish the act. He quickly covered the cage with the drapes, waved his
whip across the top, and again said, “Abracadabra”.

When he removed the drape, sure enough, Tigra in her sexy

strips of fur and curvy beauty was crouched inside the cage and the
tiger was gone. The trick had worked! And he was still alive!

To a burst of applause, he assisted Tigra out of the cage and,

holding hands, they bowed. Her hand in his felt so right, but this
fantastic entertainer was a circus star and he was a roustabout,
someone who did the dirty work and filled in when needed. He
tightened his jaw and tried to tell himself his momentary elation at her
touch was caused by relief to have survived his first solo encounter
with a tiger.

****

Vance Skull Kilman, garbed in his usual black, tight-fitting

leather aerialist attire, had watched every move of Tigra’s act from
above with his Scorpio intensity and concentration as he dramatically
removed his cape in a big swirl of red and black satin. But no one was
watching him. Not even his assistant, Gabriella Devaux, a woman
he’d had to constantly remind himself, that in order to survive, he had
to forget was female. All eyes were still on Tigra, as they should be.
She was great! He hadn’t even seen her perform the switch.

He hungered for the day he would finally bite into that lovely

neck, make her his, and whisk her away into his world of darkness.

Anger rose in him. He didn’t like the way Tigra held onto the

new guy’s hand or the way she looked at him. He’d gotten rid of
Rolo. If this guy didn’t keep his hands off his woman, he’d be next.
No one had better stand in the way of the ultimate seduction, because
if he couldn’t have her, he’d destroy everyone with ties to the circus,
including family and paid guests. But right now he had to keep his
mind on performing. It was his cover and his act was featured next.
Later, he would check on his bounty and make sure it was still secure.
It would take lots of money for two vampires to live elegantly into
eternity. Secure his treasure first, then reap his revenge.

Chapter Eight

Heading out of the Big Top on the run after the show, Tigra

couldn’t contain her smile. “You did great tonight, Hugh. You show
exceptional promise as a handler and an entertainer. I liked the
powerful way you related to the tiger. Where did you learn that?”

He laughed. “I felt a connection and went with it.”
She’d felt it too and it scared the hell out of her. The prophecy

for the year of the tiger promised a friendship that would develop into
something more personal with exciting consequences. No! She dare
not dream of such nonsense. Romantic thoughts of him were
impossible! She chose to put all of her energy into her circus family.
When Tigra and Hugh reached her caravan steps, the police were
waiting. “What’s this all about?” she asked the officers.

“There was a break-in at the museum yesterday and valuable

property was stolen,” the bulldog-faced investigator said as he shifted
his solid weight.

“You’re probably wasting your time here,” Tigra said.

“During set-up none of us have time to leave the premises, let alone
visit a museum. What brought you here?”

“Since the newspaper already spilled the beans, I don’t

suppose it’ll hurt to tell you. Sawdust was discovered on the roof at
the point of entry near one of the AC units.”

It was probably a lie. She suspected the truth was, as usual,

that while the circus was in town the carnies would get blamed for
any wrong-doing.

If the cops wanted to play games, she’d play too. They didn’t

expect her to be smart. “It’s been windy. Maybe the sawdust blew
across town and landed up there. And then the misting rain made it
stick.” The grasping for straws reasoning sounded ridiculous even to
her ears.

“Not likely, Miss. And we have other evidence I’m not at

liberty to share at this point in the investigation. We’re checking
every inch of the circus premises. We’ve searched most of the
caravans and would like to check yours and your assistant’s now.”

She shrugged. “My place gets messy while I’m getting ready

to perform and I haven’t had time to tidy up, so don’t expect things to
be in order.”

She glanced at Hugh. He hadn’t yet been hired at the time of

the robbery and would’ve been free to go wherever he wanted, but she
wasn’t about to make trouble for her new hire. Especially one who
showed such promise as a performer. Besides, he didn’t strike her as a
thief. But who was this man and why had he joined the circus? The
more she knew about this roustabout the more murky and difficult
decisions about this handsome new hire seemed. She hoped keeping
quiet about him wasn’t going against her interests and the interests of
the circus.

She needed to be cooperative; the sooner they found the thief,

the sooner the spotlight would be off the circus. And her. But she
couldn’t throw an innocent man to the dogs.

Her caravan was messy before the cops, but after they finished

ransacking the place it looked like a hurricane had torn through it. Of
course, they didn’t find anything. She tagged along as they headed for
Hugh’s unit.

The officer blocked her way as she headed up the steps. “You

two wait outside.” She sat down on the steps and Hugh joined her.
“They’re not going to find anything, right?” she whispered.

“Of course not.”
“So why do you look so tense?”
“Simple. I don’t like anyone, especially cops, digging through

my personal items. It isn’t unheard of for dirty cops to plant stuff.”

“Your comment isn’t comforting.” After all, she’d only know

Hugh a few days. What did she really know about him? The officers
took so long she feared they might’ve found something incriminating.
She was surprised at how suspicious she was of Hugh. He’d told her
he was trusting; she’d never been. Life had taught her to trust no one.
Who was this man? The question repeated over and over in her mind.

****

Skull watched from his window as the police swarmed the

nearby caravans. He wished he’d thought to plant something
incriminating in Hugh’s trailer. The cops finished and were heading
for his place.

They pounded on his door like storm troopers then ordered

him outside. He waited on the steps of his caravan while the police
messed up his spotless unit, confident he’d purged it of all evidence of
his vampire existence and the robbery. He’d get even with the pigs for
invading his space. Although he’d never forgive them, he was used to

it. It happened in every new town after his robberies. And he knew
they’d be back. They always showed up a minimum of twice. And
when he found his victim and took his due, they’d come around again.
But they could come a hundred times and still they’d find nothing—
meticulousness was his trademark and why he’d never been caught.
That’s part of why he’d chosen the circus life; it gave him the perfect
excuse for moving on.

He saw Tigra and the new guy, Hugh, watching as the police

finally left the grounds. They were laughing, perhaps as relieved as he
felt. They were getting along too well. After he satisfied his nocturnal
cravings tonight, he’d sabotage the new roustabout’s work. Again.
With Hugh's surprising talents, fouling him wouldn't be easy.

****

The following day, Tigra frowned when her cell phone rang,

interrupting the training session. She looked down at the screen. “I
have to take this. It’s the boss.”

She listened a moment. “It’s Rolo,” Coleman said. “He’s

gone.”

All heat drained from her face, and then her knees gave and

she crumpled to the ground.

Hugh bent and took the limply held cell phone from her hands,

and after shoving it into his pocket, he gathered her into his arms and
carried her inside his caravan. “It’s Rolo isn’t it?” His words were
husky and heavy with compassion.

She nodded, filled with gut-gripping grief. Hugh gently laid

her down on his day bed and poured her a large tin cup of water.

She gulped it down. “I’m going to find Rolo’s killer,” she

said, past the constriction still lodged in her throat. She hadn’t meant
to say that out loud. She had to handle this carefully and quietly. Her
burning desire to discover the truth about Rolo’s murder and his and
Candy’s personality-shifts could be dangerous, even deadly. Between
the killings and the thefts, a bright spotlight had been focused on the
circus—and her.

Hugh tucked a small pillow behind her head and kissed her

forehead. Something beyond concern flickered in his eyes. “I’ll help
you. But rest now and then we’ll devise a plan to catch the one
responsible for his death.”

Hugh’s deep voice vibrated through her, touching her with his

sincerity. No, no, getting him involved would be impossible. Now
with the news putting a spotlight on the trail of murders across the
country and their suspicions that it might have been done by a shifter,
like a vampire or werewolf, she had to guard her dual nature even
more closely. No one knew she was a shifter except Madam Mystic.
Madam Mystic was as closed mouthed as they came and a good
friend. Although it was more important than ever to guard her secret,
she couldn’t let the deaths of Rolo and Candy go unpunished. She
wanted the guilty bastard to burn in hell.

****

Hugh opened and closed his fist. He should stay out of this; he

was well aware the greatest danger he faced in life was his curiosity
and unwavering protective nature. Damon had told him many times
his gentle soul was his Achilles heel. He raked back his hair, feeling
the conflict within himself and his inner werewolf. Because of his
lycanthrope curse, he needed to keep a low profile. But dammit, even
angry, she looked irresistible. Her feral beauty reached out to touch
him like leaping flames. The way her eyes lit up every time they got
together lifted his spirits. She was steady, yet full of surprises; each
time he saw her, he noticed more depth and abundance of character.
And it touched his heart how generously she encouraged and
validated him.

This wasn’t the time to think of himself. His decision should

be based on her needs. He wondered about the slight scar in her
eyebrow, but now wasn’t the time to ask. He studied her eyes, felt her
pain, saw her resolve, and admired her grit. She was tough. Nothing
like her soft curves suggested. And she was smart, strong, brave, and
tenacious. If she were a wolf, she’d be an Alpha. In addition, this
intriguing woman was totally frustrating. Damn. He spent far too
much time thinking about her naked. And now her vulnerability was
twisting his guts. He was being sucked in. What was he thinking? He
couldn’t let himself be drawn in this time. Didn’t he have enough to
contend with learning a new job, fitting in with strange people and
challenging surroundings? Besides, she hadn’t asked for his help and
probably didn’t want it. In spite of the ferocity in her determined
expression, he felt driven to at least keep an eye on her.

Her cell phone rang. Hugh answered it. He listened then

paused. “It’s the boss, wondering why you cut him off.” Then he

continued his conversation. “Yes, Sir. The news shook her up a bit.
But don’t worry I’ll stay with her until she feels better.”

He snapped the cell phone closed and stared down at her

trembling lips, feeling an urge to quiet them with his own. “Does
Rolo have family? Someone to handle arrangements?”

A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Circus and Carney folks

are usually the only family unit most of us know. And we take care of
our own.”

The pain and loneliness in her tone twisted his heart. “Now

that I’m one of the family, you can count on me. Just let me know
what needs to be done.”

She met his gaze and without thinking he bent and kissed

away her lone tear. She stiffened. “I’m sorry, Tigra. I didn’t mean to
make you uncomfortable.” Now he felt like a letch again. “I’ll be
going now. But if you need me—”

“Hugh, stop! This is your caravan.”
He glanced around at the mess left by the police, drawers

open, clothes tossed about. Yes, it was his place all right. Real
smooth, Hugh. He cleared his throat. “I just meant, I’d get out of your
hair and let you rest here a while.”

“I’m okay now. I’ll head back to my own quarters. But thanks

for being there for me, Hugh.”

“At least let me walk you back to your caravan.” He offered

his hand, but she ignored it and got up under her own power. He
followed her down the steps, ready to grab her if she stumbled. They
walked side by side, not touching, but he felt the electricity surging
between them. At her door, he had the greatest urge to kiss her again.
“Want me to come inside until you get settled? I could get you water
and massage your back.”

“I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later,” she said and disappeared

inside her caravan.

He stood staring at the door for a few seconds, then headed

down the arcade with its milling crowds, inhaling popcorn, caramel,
and the scents of oily machinery and excited humans. Splashes of
color and movement of whirling rides weaved its magical spell
around him. Barkers squawked through their megaphones. Calliope
music blared from the carousel. The din from the midway penetrated
his thrashing thoughts. He had to help Tigra. And to do that he needed
information.

Restless, and as if on remote control, his feet took him deeper

into the arcade. Then he spied Madam Mystic’s tent. The police had
talked to her. Maybe he could wheedle some information from her. It
would be worth a try.

The flap of the tent was open; the inside, like their caravans,

looked like a hurricane had whipped through it. The Amazon African
grumbled as she put things back in order, her gold earrings brushing
her strong ebony jawbone.

When he stepped inside she turned. “Back so soon, my

brother? Good. Plop down your money and state your concerns.”

“Just a social call. Now that I’m part of the circus family it’s

time we get to know each other better.”

Her laugh was harsh. “We’re a traveling bunch of misfits and

don’t accept outsiders well.” She glanced at him sardonically and lit
three candles. “Besides, I know you well enough.”

He heard the humor in her calypso tone and tried not to take

offense. “Perhaps I have a certain magnetism you’ve yet to
appreciate—and mysterious hidden qualities.”

“Hidden from me? I doubt it.” She winked. “If you can stand

the clutter, sit down. Want some tea? You look like a man with a
tremendous thirst. ”

Wariness slithered through him. “No, no thank you. We’re all

concerned about the police coming through the grounds like storm
troopers, invading our caravans, upsetting our schedules, and
interfering with business. Can you tell me what the cops know that
they aren’t telling?”

“They’re wondering the same about all of us. But they didn’t

cross my palm with any dinario.” She frowned. “By the way, neither
have you. And Madam Mystic has a rule…no money no talk. So, fork
over the green or be on your way.”

“I’m sure when you peek into your crystal ball you’ll see my

pay day isn’t until the end of the week. And it won’t be much, only
enough to buy the barest essentials.”

She waved her hand across the crystal and stared at it a

minute. “You can’t hoodwink me. You have some bucks tucked
away, and a very wealthy brother.”

He gazed at the crystal and saw nothing but the clear glass.

“How do you know those things?”

She smiled. “I make it a point to learn a bit about all the

Circus-Carney family.”

“Then you’re aware what the police are looking for and who

has it?”

“Perhaps, but I mind my own business. With your secrets, you

should be glad I’m closed-mouthed. Now back to the subject of
money. You get paid to be a roustabout and jack of all trades and I get
paid to tell the future—and often the past. You don’t work for free
and neither do I. So, call your brother to help you out.”

Resentment shot through Hugh like a hot poker. “I earn my

own way. If money is an issue, I’ll leave my watch with you as a
pawn until I get paid.” He took it off and pushed it toward her.

She pushed it back. “You’ll need your watch. Working with

Tigra and the tigers, requires perfect timing.” She looked him up and
down. “I’ll let you run a tab. Five bucks a visit to be paid in full at
each paycheck or I’ll cast a curse on you.”

He shook his head. Another curse, that’s all I need. I should

run like hell out of here.

“You could leave,” she said with humor ringing in her voice,

“but you’ll only come back and by then the price will have soared like
a sky-rocket. So agree to pay me, and I’ll give you a reading you’ll
never forget.”

The big, buxom African was an accomplished scammer.

“What did you mean earlier when you said that sometimes you read
the past?”

She waved her hand across the crystal Ball and peered deeper

into it. “I see a dog. No, no, it’s a wolf...a werewolf. I see bubbling
mud…”

A chill slid down Hugh’s spine. “Stop! I don’t want to hear

about the past. I want to know who killed Rolo and who the thief was
who stole the golden arrowhead from the museum.”

“But that is the past, my friend. Make up your mind. What is it

you really want?”

“Dammit. Future or past, I want the name of the murderer and

the name of the thief.”

“Is he not the same?”
“It’s a he?”

“Such a request for info has many ramifications. When a

mystic knows things they must tread carefully. I do not answer
questions that can snake back and grab me by the throat.”

“Then forget it; you’re of no help to me.”
She met his gaze with an eerie intensity. “I see death close

by.”

The smoke from the candles thickened. His heart pounded

wildly. She’s sucking me in again. “Exactly what do you mean?”

“The future is a maze of uncertainty.”
“Hell. I don’t need a mystic to tell me that.”
It was clear the fortune teller knew something about the

murders and theft, but for self-preservation was refusing to talk. He
couldn’t blame her. Why would he expect the truth anyway? Maybe
the whole band of closed-mouthed traveling entertainers was a den of
liars.

****

Hugh stuck his head into the office doorway. “Good news,” he

told Boss Coleman, “Tigra is resting, but she’ll be able to do the
evenings show.”

“Great!” Coleman said. “Glad you came by. I need a clown for

the Entrance Parade. Billy Cornwell has disappeared. Ever play
around with clown make-up?”

“No, sir. But if you provide the costume, I can probably

improvise.”

Coleman handed him a costume that was several sizes too big

around the middle and too short. “Tigra is great with make-up and
costuming, but we’d better let her rest. Bubbles, the exotic dancer can
help you. She’s a make-up expert, too. She’s in caravan seven. You’d
better talk to her right away. Unless you’re a quick change artist,
you’ll probably have to wear your costume in the tiger show.”
Coleman smiled. “With all the sensationalism in the newspapers
about the tiger attack on Rolo, we should have a full house in spite of
the unpredictable weather. Which means we can’t disappoint them on
any level. Maybe a clown in the cage wouldn’t be a bad idea. I liked
the tiger switch trick, but we have to keep the surprises coming.”

The satisfied look in the boss’ expression and the calculating

tone in his voice sent an uneasy feeling creeping through Hugh. Could
the boss have poisoned Rolo to bring sensationalism to his circus,
thereby increasing the revenue? Could he also be the thief?

As Hugh headed back out into the fairground’s swarming

crowds, he frowned at his thoughts. He liked the boss and didn’t want
to think evil of him.

Chapter Nine

Hugh slowed his pace when he saw Vance Skull Kilman

coming toward him; he had seen his aerial act from a distance and
saw him around the grounds, following after Tigra, but he’d never
talked to him. His long, high-cheek boned face with shadowy hollows
and his musky odor reminded Hugh of the walking dead he’d known.
Skully, as everyone called him, wrinkled his narrow nose as if he had
also caught a scent and gave a poor excuse for a knowing smile
through thin lips, showing long, extremely white teeth.

“Where’s Tigra,” Skully asked.
The biting chill to his voice scraped across Hugh’s nerves.

That and the dead look in his eyes warned that, when it came to
women, Skully was a user and opportunist. And possibly a killer.

“She’s resting for tonight’s performance.” Tigra’s habit of not

allowing anyone to do what she could do on her own and her
dedication to her job could make her especially vulnerable to an
advantage-seeking man like Skully.

Skully sent him a gleaming white smile; he was probably

considered a handsome man by the ladies. He wore his long, black
hair in a pony-tail and, as an aerialist, the man had a tight flat
abdomen, wide-shoulders, and appeared strong and fit. Hugh fought a
pang of jealousy and hoped there wasn’t something going on between
Mr. Highwire and the Queen of Tigers.

As they did a sizing up dance, Hugh’s suspicions grew. He

sensed something supernatural, cold, even icy about the man. He
didn’t know where Skully Kilman fit into the trouble arising about
them, but the vibes rushing between them were like dark, swirling
flood waters of death. The aerialist bore watching. He definitely
didn’t want him around Tigra. Hugh shook his head at his
possessiveness; he was acting as if he owned her.

He snickered at his arrogance; his internal self knew the truth.

Inside he’d always be the once horribly deformed hunchback with no
such rights to any woman. How dare he try to fool himself and others
with his phony facade of confidence? Yes, he resided in a handsome
strong body, but underneath he was still Hugo, the cripple.

No! I mustn’t think the old way. The angel promised I was

equal to any man in every way, and to honor her, I must honor her

belief in me. To have any kind of life at all, I must believe in myself,
sidestep negative thoughts, and avoid suspecting everyone of wrong
doing.

****

Hugh spent the next few minutes between annoyance, grim

speculation, and building up his nerve to call on the entertainer called
Bubbles. Time was fleeting. He didn’t want to bother Tigra, so he
forced himself to tap on Bubbles’ caravan door. With her radio
blaring, it would be futile to hope she wasn’t home. She answered
wearing feathers, rhinestones and little else.

He swallowed, broke out in a sweat, and couldn’t seem to

avert his eyes. “Mr. Coleman sent me. He thought you might help me
with some clown makeup.”

Bubbles chewed hard on her gum and looked him up and

down like he was a piece of meat. “Sure, honey,” she said with a
hillbilly twang in her voice. “Coleman called and said he was sending
you over. Just plunk yerself down and I’ll turn yer handsome, serious
face into a grinning white-faced jester. How’s that?”

“Sounds good.”
In spite of her overt beauty, he saw the telltale traces of a hard

life—lines around eyes that had seen too much, a mouth that had
learned to curse like a truck driver and one that had kissed too many
frogs. Poor girl.

Her caravan was neat enough except for the counter strewn

with a jumble of varied sized make-up cases. When he eased into the
chair before the mirror, she bent over him, her breasts practically
falling out of her skimpy bra. He leaned back as far as possible. She
grabbed his face and pinched it between long fingers. Her dagger-like
blood-red fingernails traced his skin, and against his will, the stroking
sent heat to his groin.

“Want a massage first? For you, honey, it’ll be free.” She

traced her hand to his shoulders and found his knots. “Sugar, you’re
so tense. I could firm you up and then send you on your way loose as
a goose.”

He cleared his throat. “Just the make-up job, please.”
“In a rush to train with Tigra? I’ll bet she’s a real tiger in the

sack.”

Hugh frowned. “I wouldn’t know. She’s a professional with

me and I appreciate that about her.”

“You gay, honey?”
“Please, Miss Bubbles.”
“Okay. But for a guy who wants to play clown, you’re not

much on clowning around.”

She worked fast and rough, revealing her displeasure. As she

fit a white skull cap over his head, she said, “It’s a shame to hide all
that silky hair.” She yanked a hank through a hole in the top and
dangled it down his back like a pony tail. She fingered it slowly then
finally affixed false tufts of hair over his ears. She dropped her
lipstick in his lap and when she retrieved it, she managed to stroke a
finger across his cock.

Hugh tightened his jaw, and with effort, concentrated on the

make-up job.

“You do good work.” He groaned at his choice of words after

just being fondled.

“What I meant is, you’re skilled with make-up.”
“I’m skilled in everything, honey. Remember, when you need

a massage I do a thorough job.” She tilted her head. “If it’s Tigra who
scratches your itch, just remember Rolo. They were hot for each other
until his popularity grew to almost match hers. Think about it. Isn’t it
strange an expert trainer like The Queen of Tigers couldn’t stop her
assistant from getting mauled and chewed up like raw steak?” She
leaned in closer, giving him the feeling she was on the verge of
adding something else then cut herself off.

Did she know something? The switch of tigers in last night’s

act could have ended in disaster. He could have been eaten too. How
much control did Tigra have on how the act played out? I’m thinking
crazy, letting a jealous woman stir me up.

****

Tigra dialed Coleman, her hands steady now. “Boss, I wanted

to assure you, I’ll be fine for tonight’s performance.”

“That’s my girl, always the show woman. Knew I could count

on you. We’re short a clown for the entrance parade. Billy Cornwell
didn’t show up for the clown meeting and didn’t return after his trip to
town last night, so I asked Hugh to fill in.”

She wasn’t surprised. Every few months Billy got mixed up

with a woman and went off on a drunken romp. Why the boss put up
with him was a mystery. “What about my act?”

“Hugh can do both. But he may have to wear a clown costume

into the cage tonight.”

“He’ll have to change. I don’t want a clown upsetting the

tigers. They’re still upset about Rolo and Candy.”

“Come on. You can handle it. It might even add spice to the

act.”

“It’s spicy enough. I want to talk to Hugh. Now.”
“I saw him leave Bubbles caravan just a few minutes ago.”
Her eyes widened and her stomach flip-flopped.
Coleman was quiet for a moment. “It’s not what you think. I

sent him to her for make-up.

When I last saw him, he was wearing a ruffled clown costume,

white-face make-up, and his trademark moccasins were heading
toward the canteen.

****

Slamming closed her cell, Tigra felt hot annoyance rising in

her gut. She rushed outside to look for Hugh. She didn’t know which
made her angrier; Coleman changing her act, or the fact he’d sent
Hugh to that hussy Bubbles. With the costume in the mix, it was more
important than ever to get in at least half an hour of practice with
Hugh and the tigers. She frowned, mulling over her conversation with
the boss. Coleman had done nothing to directly arouse her suspicions,
but his attitude about Rolo dying seemed callous and revenue centric.

She spied Hugh sitting on a bench with a little toe-headed

barefoot boy of about seven. He wiped away the child’s tears with a
long length of rainbow scarves tied together. The freckle-faced child
with the tear-stained face had the saddest expression she’d ever seen.
Hugh made funny faces and when the child stopped crying and
laughed, Hugh hoisted him up on his shoulders and headed into the
crowd. Rather than catch up to Hugh, she followed behind, enthralled
with his ability to comfort the child so quickly. Hugh had a number of
sides to him and she found them all intriguing. He caught up with a
frantic-looking couple, who apparently was the boy’s parents, and
talked with them a moment, shook their hands, and then headed back
toward his caravan alone.

Again, she couldn’t help but wonder who this man was and

what made him tick.

****

Tigra caught up with Hugh.

“How did you know it was me?”
“The moccasins,” she said. “And Coleman told me about your

new getup and makeup job.”

“You don’t like the clown outfit, right?”
“What I like isn’t the point. Just don’t spook my tigers. Now

let’s get to work. We’re short of time, but we must practice the
highlights of tonight’s performance a minimum of three times to keep
us safe and the tigers protected.”

She worked Hugh hard and admired him even more when he

didn’t complain.

Finally, time ran out and they had to stop. Tigra looked at her

watch and said, “Up for a cup of juice or water before the parade
starts?” She could use some water, but no sugary stimulants. Maybe a
lemony magnesium drink would be best, if the snack shack had some.
She needed to stay calm and in control. Her goal was merely to
engage Hugh in conversation for a few minutes and learn more about
her intriguing new assistant.

He winked. “Sure. Why not?”
They headed for the refreshment tent with its red and white

awning.

“Magnesium water for me,” she told the counter boy.
“Sorry. We’re out.”
“Then, I’ll have a bottle of Arrowhead Springs water.”
“Make it two,” Hugh said.
After they were seated across from each other, she lifted her

bottle as if in a toast. “To your good health. This water is reportedly
bottled from the local mountain springs.”

“Interesting, but I find you more interesting. I have to ask,

what enticed a classy, talented lady like you to join a traveling
circus?”

She intended to quip that she liked to travel and loved

animals, but his seriousness and something indefinable in his
ridiculous clown made up face and unsmiling eyes and the unreality
of the moment, made her want to give him a touch of something real
of herself. “My foster dad was a ringmaster and I was raised in a
circus atmosphere.”

He smiled. “Awesome. But you said foster dad. What

happened to your birth dad?”

She dug her nails into her palm. “I doubt you really want to

hear about him.”

“Oh, but I do. Please.”
She glanced at her watch and sighed. “He was a thirty-year old

absent, philandering Scotsman who traveled the world. He met my
mother while in Africa and promised to marry her and take her to the
United States where she could live like a queen. Her father, a
chieftain who practiced witchcraft, became enraged when the lying
scum failed to keep his promise and deserted my mother who was
only fifteen at the time. Not knowing she was pregnant, the chieftain
cursed him and his offspring. ”

“What happened to your mother?”
Tigra forced a laugh and glanced at her watch again. “We’ll

save that saga of my life for another time.” She shredded a napkin
with her dagger nails. She wasn’t willing to reveal the rest: that when
her terrified pregnant teen mom, with no means of support, bore a
cursed, growling tiger-child that she dumped her in the hills where the
ringmaster found her.

She only knew the early history because of Madam Mystic. Or

had the wily African mystic lied? The colorful crystal-gazer was
known for her wild tales.

None of it mattered now. But it was lucky for her, the

ringmaster was fascinated by her duality and he took her into his heart
and raised and educated her as his own. “That saga is too long a story
for the short time we have. But we have time to hear about you. Why
did you join the circus?”

He grinned. “You’re right. My story is short and

straightforward. I love animals and travel. I’ve read about the world
and now I want to see it.”

She doubted his reasons were that uncomplicated. Everything

about him carried a web of mystery. She pointed to her watch and
stood. It was time for him to join the rest of the clowns for the night’s
opening pre-show parade. “Have fun with the clowns, but don’t wear
yourself out. I need you sharp and alert for our act. And if you have
time, ditch the clown garb. It seems to agitate the tigers.”

She watched him jog away, looking foolishly hugable.
Telling Hugh even that small amount about her life had stirred

memories of her ringmaster dad. He was more like a granddad and
she called him Grandy. Unmarried and childless, he opened his heart

to all children. Especially her. His many wondrous stories of the
animals and his travel experiences made her content to call the circus
home. Grandy was knowledgeable about every phase of the circus,
the good and the evil, and taught her all he knew. Raised in a circus
atmosphere, her empathy and understanding of the animals made her
a natural trainer and handler. Grandy had always kept her secret and
no one knew of her duality, except the mystic, who for her own
reason never spilled the beans. Tigra felt a wistful smile tug at her
lips. It was natural for her to stay on after Grandy died. She’d
wondered about another life, but never longed for it. Now she was
more curious than ever about Hugh. The more she learned, the more
certain she became she’d only scratched the surface.

Chapter Ten

After the parade, Hugh headed for the center ring in his clown

costume. For a lead-in, he did a cartwheel and a handstand and
walked forward upside down. The crowd laughed and pointed. He
decided to play it to the hilt and build on their expectations. He
righted himself and pointed toward the cage and shaking his head, he
pantomimed a violent No! Stalling, he did some somersaults and flips.
He gestured to the cage and took a step forward then jumped back
shaking his head. The full-house crowd laughed and a man shouted,
“Go get um’, clown man.”

The spectators were hungry for slapstick thrills and he felt

their tension mounting. Can I pull this off? He remembered the little
toe-headed boy and figured he was in the stands somewhere. It had
been a great feeling to make the youngster laugh.

His hand hesitated on the door of the Center Cage. “For you,

kid,” he said.

He’d barely stepped inside when the animal hatch banged

open and Stripes charged into the cage. He felt a small measure of
relief that Tigra had decided to hold back some of the tigers. Probably
because of the trouble they had this afternoon due the clown costume.
Good thinking, Tigra. One agitated tiger is enough. Stripes rushed
toward him with his orange and black powerful body in muscled
motion. Stripes growled, his mouth wide and hungry-looking.

Hugh sucked in a long breath and snapped his whip. With a

huge paw, Stripes swatted at the whip and whisked it away. Oh, God.
Big decision. Run, or stay and try to hypnotize the beast. What if I
morph? Sometimes tough situations brought on the change. The
quickest way to save my life, secure my secret, and keep the act going
is to stick with humor. He grabbed the cage bars, and quick like a
monkey, he performed a hand over hand upward climb, squealing like
a Banshee. When well out of reach, he hung upside down and made
funny faces at Stripes. The crowd went wild with laughter.

Stripes stood on his hind legs and lashed at him with clawed,

slashing fore paws. Hugh climbed a little higher and stuck out his
tongue. He heard the uproarious laughter of the crowd. So far so
good. But am I making Stripes more dangerous to Tigra? Until this
second, he hadn’t thought of that.

He heard Tigra’s strong young voice ordering Stripes back.

When the tiger turned and growled at Tigra, his heart skipped a beat.
It’s now or never. He dropped from the side of the cage onto the
beast’s back and rode him like a mad bull. The crowd went wild.
Then someone went against the plan and released the other four tigers
into the cage. Tigra looked stunned, but continued as though, that too,
was part of the performance. Hugh let loose with a gush of air in great
relief when the four tigers turned and leapt up on their pedestals. They
pawed the air. Now what? He grabbed his chain of rainbow scarves
from his pocket with his teeth, wrestled the tiger to the ground like a
bull, and hogtied its paws with the link of colorful ribbon. With
Stripe’s strength and sharp teeth, the silk would only hold for an
instant.

Hugh grabbed Tigra’s curvy firm body, wrapped only in those

enticing strips of fur, up into his arms and thrust her into the smaller
cage and slammed the door. He leapt on top of the large cage, cage
two, covered it with the drapes, waved his hand across the top and
shouted, “abracadabra”. He prayed she would disappear the way she’d
appeared in the previous show. Before the tigers could leap up and get
him, he leapt higher onto the bars of cage three, caught hold, climbed
to the top of the main cage and again, played the antic-filled,
screeching monkey. The crowds went wild with laughter. He was
breathing hard and needed a moment to catch his breath, but this was
no time to rest on his laurels. He had to finish the act. He dropped
down and removed the drape. Sure enough, Tigra was gone and
another tiger crouched inside the cage.

To a burst of applause, Tigra appeared outside the main cage.

Suddenly handlers were herding the remaining tigers to their escape
door. Once they were gone, he dropped down, did a few somersaults,
bowed, and gestured toward Tigra who had just reentered the cage.
Her flashing eyes and thin lips told him he’d gone too far. She
grabbed his hand in a pinching hold, and, together, they bowed. He’d
survived his second encounter with a tiger. But if looks could kill, he
probably wouldn’t survive his next encounter with Tigra.

****

Tigra paced her caravan fuming about Hugh’s antics and her

boss’s call. Coleman loved the performance. Well, she didn’t love it.
She glared at Hugh. “What possessed you to change the act? I’m the
head of this team. You’re the new-hire assistant. You put us in

tremendous danger. Not to mention the trauma you caused my tigers.
Your clown costume and monkey antics agitated them big time. Not
to mention your bull-riding insanity.” She’d never admit to him that
he’d pulled it off like a pro. “Where the hell did you learn to jump and
climb like that? And ride a tiger like a bull?” She rushed on without
giving him a chance to answer. “Don’t you realize you took a huge
risk riding Stripes and hogtying him with that flimsy chain of silk?
Damn you. Stripes may never be the same again. For safety’s sake, he
might have to be retired. If that happens, I’ll…” She breathed in,
trying to calm down. She hated…hated her complete loss of control.
On the one hand, she was proud of Hugh. During the whole escapade
he had never shown fear. Even when Stripes chased him around the
cage. He did flips and climbed the cage bars. And the crowd loved
him. Damn him! She wanted the boss to fire him! But Coleman
wanted to keep him and incorporate the new act. Sure. Over Hugh’s
dead body!

Hugh met her gaze with forthright intensity. “I’m sorry. I got

caught up in the crowd mania. The laughter and applause was like a
drug. I wanted to do more and more to delight them and keep them
laughing. It was insane and I can’t believe now I took such risks. I
won’t do it again. I probably couldn’t do it again. But you were great!
Thanks for backing me up.”

“Backing you up? Let’s get this straight, Hugh. This is my act

and—”

“Wait just a minute.” His voice deepened and his tone took on

an edge that surprised her, coming from this soft-spoken man. He
stepped close and drilled her with a glare as rigid as granite. “I did
what was necessary to avoid ending up like your last assistant. No one
was there to save me from mutilation and death but my own wits. Just
like there was no one there for Rolo.”

Tigra’s breath caught as if he’d slapped her. How cruel to

bring Rolo and her failure to save him into this. With all that was in
her, she held back a rush of tears and fought to keep the quiver out of
her voice as she said, “Okay. I see your point. But—”

“Dammit, Tigra, if you love your tigers as much as you say,

and I know you do, don’t you realize if Stripes had managed to get me
down, maul me, and kill me he would’ve had to be put down just like
Candy?”

Tigra opened her mouth to speak, but her throat constricted.

“Being your assistant is more dangerous than lying down in

front of a herd of trampling elephants. When you saw the trouble with
Stripes, since this is your act and if you are the boss of it, why did you
allow the backstage handlers to release more tigers into the cage?”

“I didn’t. That wasn’t supposed to happen and all of the crew

denied opening the hatch.”

He snickered. “Then, based on what happened to Rolo and

what happened today, I’d say I’m the least of your problems, Boss-
lady. Or were the slip ups today part of you and Coleman’s plan to
keep the thrills coming and the revenues flowing in?”

She stared at him, aghast. “Surely you don’t believe that?”
“At this point, I don’t know what I believe. But to clarify my

position, my plan is to stay alive! And that won’t change. And I’ll
make on-the-spot judgments when necessary to achieve my goal.”

Tigra felt a wave of nausea. Could Coleman have designed

the foul-ups to increase the crowds and revenue? She recalled her
condemning conversation with him after Rolo died. “I’ve known
Coleman for a long time,” she said more to convince herself than
Hugh. “The boss loves the circus too much to allow someone to
commit murder for him to increase revenues. But I’ve heard there
have been offers to buy the circus. Maybe someone beyond our circle
is sabotaging the acts to force the price down.” Tigra sensed a number
of divided loyalties and motives might be complicating the issues.

“Good one, Tigra. Blame someone outside your closely-knit,

secret-filled Carney-Circus Community.”

She glared at him. “You have a sharp mouth for a guy who is

hanging onto his job by a thread.” She started pacing again. “But none
of this is getting us anywhere. I see your point, and understand why
you did what you did. I don’t know where you got the skills you
exhibited, although I’m amazed and grateful. We were unbelievably
lucky today. From now on, there can’t be changes made to the act
without my say so. I won’t put up with you changing things and
risking our lives and the lives of my tigers. And strip out of that
costume and get it back to me within the hour. Now get out of my
sight before I do fire you!”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know about you

circus women. You all seem intent in getting me out of my clothes.”

Tigra threw a pillow at the closing door, pretty sure Bubbles

was one of those who’d hit on him. But were there others?

****

After all the Big Top performances were over Tigra headed

for the menagerie carrying Hugh’s clown outfit. She joined the circle
of tigers in their haven and lay down with them. She stroked their fur
lovingly and then stroked the costume. Humming softly, she allowed
each tiger to smell the rich, oddly feral scent. After the chaos in
tonight’s performance, she needed her Bengal’s to know Hugh was
their brother as she was their sister, and he wouldn’t harm them or
her. She wanted to avoid any further conflicts between Hugh and her
cats. When all the tigers went to sleep, Stripes hugging the costume,
she eased away. She needed a run to shake off her human anxieties.

****

Vance Skull Kilman, garbed in his usual black attire, felt the

walls of his caravan-trailer closing in on him again. He smiled.
Tonight there was nothing to stop him from slipping out into the
darkness and fulfilling his lustful desires. He longed to seek out an
unsuspecting female and, from her soft neck, suck in the erotic, sweet
warm blood…

Chapter Eleven

Hugh sat on caravan thirteen’s pull-down terrace, drinking a

pitcher of ice water and watching workers going about their business.
Always on call, he had his cell phone handy. He waved at Les
Morton, one of the other new roustabouts, as he entered Bubble’s
caravan. Les’s face reddened as though he’d been caught with his
hand up a skirt. Maybe that was part of his evening’s plan. The wiry
bundle of masculine energy used to be a high-wire performer like
Skull. But a serious accident had left him with a limp and off balance
which ended his career. Les had told him he was now a master painter
with plumbing experience. Hugh laughed. Maybe with Les’s injuries
he needed a massage. Or maybe the very forward and aggressive
Bubbles needed her plumbing unclogged. Hugh chuckled again.
Maybe they’d take care of both problems during his visit. Better him
than me.

Tigra waved as she jogged toward him in her running sweats.

Smiling, he signaled a hello, trying to appear nonchalant. Her graceful
lope reminded him of the way one of her tigers might move—one
who had been un-caged for the first time—swiftly, liquidly, and with
ferocious purpose. As she passed, with slanting and fiery emerald
green cat eyes, she sent him a fierce side-long glance.

He figured she was still upset about the chaos of tonight’s

performance with the Bengals. He understood, and wanted even more
than she did, to avoid any further conflicts between him and her cats.
Or her.

The caravan security lights illuminated her reddish blonde hair

with streaks of golden highlights. Her locks were mussed as if raked
angrily with those long, blood-red dagger fingernails. The sweat on
her upper lip revealed a body-heat he dare not contemplate without
consequences. Her outfit was black, but the white cursive lettering
printed on it proclaimed I love pink. He shook his head. Even her
clothes were a contradiction.

She had barely left Caravan Row when Skull ran by, also

wearing all black. He seemed to be keeping a trailing pace, not
gaining, not falling behind as though following her. His cape flowed
dramatically behind him like the staring villain in a horror movie.
Hugh tried to like everyone, but Skull reminded him of the evil in his

past. And the man was standoffish and weirder than most of the other
entertainers. What was the guy up to? Hugh hoisted himself to his
feet. He had to join the jogging parade to find out—and to keep Tigra
safe. He shook his head. Could he survive as Tigra’s protector without
losing his heart—or his life?

****

Tigra headed through the ghostly white veil of fog that curled

about the edge of the circus grounds, moving swiftly through the soft
muted colors of the night toward freedom and, if lucky, discovery.
She had a hunch if anyone connected with the circus had stolen the
gold arrowhead, they would have stashed it one of the caves. The
sooner the thief was uncovered the sooner the police would move on
to something else. And if the thief was also the killer, Rolo and
Candy’s deaths would be avenged and her secret would once again be
safe.

Increasing her pace, she left the road and entered the hilly

wilds of Shandon Hills. She inhaled earth, vegetation, and rotting
wood. The mountain’s lower foothills were dotted with a camouflage
of low concealing brush and according to Hugh, a scattering of rocky
caves—a perfect refuge for wolves, tigers, even vampires. Tigra
squinted into the shadowy darkness. To ward off her fear of the
possible danger waiting in the caves, she forced everything from her
mind but her goal: find the golden arrowhead.

She hadn’t gone far, when, with her tiger-sharp hearing, she

heard a twig snap behind her and then the crackle of underbrush. Her
already pounding heart quickened its pace and her nerves grew tauter
by the second. Instinct and the knowledge a thief and a serial killer
was operating in the area alerted her and she moved deeper into the
shadows. Fear fluttered in her gut and goose bumps rose on her arms.
Even the moaning wind wailed a bleak warning. Fog floated in
vaporous layers about the tree trunks. Ahead were two huge granite
boulders and beyond that a series of caves. She should have brought
one of the tigers with her. Should she morph into a tiger now? She’d
learned to shift back and forth at will. But occasionally the shift
failed.

Edging forward more slowly now, she listened to the haunting

gusts and moaning lament. She sensed the foggy darkness was alive
with danger and she had the heart-thumping feeling a supernatural
creature was nearby. She raked her fingers through her wild mane.

She sniffed the air and caught the scent of mustiness. Her flame hair,
even in the night’s foggy haze probably caught enough light to make
her too visible.

She spied a cluster of moon poppies. She’d read on the

Internet during her research on werewolves that devouring the moon
poppy, which bloomed only in the night, could possibly ward off or
prevent the cursed transformation for the night. But would it work for
a tiger caught in the world of duality? Right now she didn’t want to
test the theory. If she needed to morph, she didn’t want anything
blocking it.

****

As Vance Skull followed Tigra, he spied a group of six young

women ahead. He grinned. They were the circus groupies who had no
doubt tired of wrapping themselves in the lure of the circus
performers for tonight. He grinned. Nearly always there was one
among them looking for a wild experience. Suddenly, the perky
blonde waved goodbye and veered away from her five companions.
He’d seen her laughing and having a good time with them in the
arcade earlier. He’d always liked blondes and this one was a younger,
thinner version of Marilyn Monroe. Her manner was flirty, sexy, and
hot as they come. There was a vitality about her that burned as
brightly as his passion.

She headed west along the road bordering the hills. Not one to

pass up good fortune when presented to him, he changed focus and
made a westward detour.

Her youthful, perfumed female scent floated back to him. He

inhaled deeply. As he
widened his steps, the scent grew stronger. It was just as he always
imagined and many times experienced: a lovely creature sauntering
home from the circus, slipping through the shadows, unaware,
vulnerable….

With his intensified vampire hearing, he heard her soft

humming. Was the little nymph bolstering her courage to wander the
night at the edge of the hills alone? Don’t fear your fate. I’ll take care
of everything, my lovely, and I promise the pleasure before the pain
will be worth your submission.

He caught up with her. A moment of fear glinted in her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, beautiful. Remember me? I’m one of the Big

Top entertainers, Lorenzo Cantrell, High-Wire King. My friends call
me Vance or Skully. Did you enjoy my performance?”

Her body posture relaxed, as though in submission, and she

twisted about like an excited puppy. “It was awesome.”

He smiled his trademark easy grin with a slight up curve of the

lips he seldom backed up with any real emotion. “A lovely young
woman like you shouldn’t be out alone at night. May I walk you
home?”

Excitement flickered in her eyes. “Sure. Thanks. Without

moonlight, it is a bit spooky.”

He nodded toward the dim, blinking street lamp. “It would

help if the electric service crew would take care of that. None of the
lamps along this street seem to be operating properly.” He smiled.
And I like it that way.

“You have a nice smile, Vance.”
“Thanks. But wow, look at yours. Are you a model?”
She laughed. “No. I’m a student at SBVC, working on my

associates of arts.”

“Oh, a college girl. You must be quite bright. I barely got

through high school.” It wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t want the truth.
She wanted adventure, excitement, and seduction. He put his arm
lightly around her shoulders, noting her fair, slender neck. “Would
you like it if I left six free tickets at the entrance tomorrow night? I’d
like to see you again.”

“Oh wow, that would be double awesome.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
She giggled. “Your hands and breath are so icy.”
“It’s a cool night.” But things will warm up soon, my sweet,

innocent playmate. Raw, naked desire pulsed in his penis. He looked
down at her with his hypnotic gaze and drew her into the shadows of
a huge evergreen tree. “You have enticing pouty lips. Has anyone
ever told you that?”

Her eyes glinted and she shook her head, allowing her blonde

hair to caress the lines of her enticing neck.

“May I steal just one kiss before I leave you safely at your

door?”

She nodded, almost shyly.

He decided to make her wait for it. He stared into her eyes and

created the needed telepathic bond. He deepened his probe, using his
mesmerizing power of hypnotism to go into the very soul of the poor,
helpless young creature. His mind, his brain and hers locked in
psychedelic euphoria. Then he put everything he had into the kiss and
she molded into his body. He drew her down to the grassy hillside
parkway with him and gave her what she’d been enthralled and
awestruck into allowing. He sucked on the tender skin of her neck and
together they soared to a wild and heightened erotic state where their
brains produced their own hallucinogens. Then he placed his hand
over her mouth to silence the screams he knew would come, and bit
down on her neck, sinking his fangs into her juggler. Her scream
came out muffled against the relentless pressure of his hand. He
suctioned the blood and gore into his mouth as he rode her into a
glorious solitary climax. He checked for a pulse, knowing there would
be none. He cleaned his mouth and teeth with an untraceable and
undetectable solution. Next, with his special acid pen he cleaned away
all traces of DNA and then ran into the darkness, discarding her to an
eternal sleep.

****

Morphed into her feral form Tigra ran free through the dark

shadowy night, enjoying the sounds of crickets and other night
creatures. Suddenly, she splayed her ears sideways, like outstretched
bat wings, listening. Alerted by her enhanced tiger-sharp hearing, she
stopped dead still. Was that a muffled scream she’d heard? After a
moment, she decided it must have been the cry of the moaning wind.
Another gust whistled through the trees. A falling leaf brushed her
face, like the eerie touch of evil. Her pulse pounded erratically.

Skittish now, she turned and searched the brush and thick,

shifting shadows behind her. The movement must have been rippling
branches. She inhaled a strong, overpowering scent of wolf. She raked
her fingers through her wild mane. Were there wolves in these hills?

Something flashed in her peripheral vision. Her animal eyes

picked out distorted shapes. A sinking feeling slithered through her.
She melted deeper into the shadows and ran, crouched low, through
the brush, silent as the night pressing down on her. She could scarcely
breathe. With a gripping sense of rising panic, she circled back toward
the circus.

She couldn’t remain in her tiger form. When she returned to

where she’d hidden her clothes, she scanned the perimeter: both sides,
ahead, and behind. Satisfied she was alone, she began the morphing
process.

Concentrating, she willed herself to morph back to her human-

form. Shifting in and out
of her dual transitions so quickly required tremendous physical
stamina. And sometimes the quick turn-around weakened her. She
hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time. Before she was completely
shifted, she heard twigs snapping and leaves crunching. Oh, no, there
was someone or something coming toward her at a ground-eating clip
and it was too late to stop the process.

****

Ignoring burning muscles and sensing evil lurked nearby,

Hugh ran toward the hills with one thought in mind—find Tigra.
When he’d caught the scent of mustiness coming from the west and
tiger to the north, he’d turned north into the brush-covered hills.
Obviously Tigra had spent so much time with her pets she smelled
like them. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he found it quite enticing. The
enticing smell grew stronger. Was one of the tigers loose and slipping
through the shadows? Perhaps for safety sake and the ability to run
faster, I should morph.

Desperation and concern rushed the body-racking process and

in seconds he’d made the transition.

You can’t outrun me now, Tigra. The wind ruffled his coat as

he poured on the speed, covering about a half mile in seconds.

When the scent of the tiger almost overpowered him he knew

he was close. Very close. With his intensified wolf hearing, he heard
the snap of a twig.

He froze when he caught sight of a beautiful Bengal tiger

slinking through the shadowy brush. Oh this is bad. A loose tiger was
a danger to the community and after all the so called accidents on the
circus grounds at the L.A. performance, an escape like this could
close down the whole operation for good. What should I do? And
where the hell is Tigra?

Before his eyes, the orange and black feral creature with the

beautiful catlike face was morphing into…oh, my God! It was Tigra!
Nude.

Hugh let his gaze slide slowly over the lovely Queen of Tigers

from head to toe, noticing every luscious inch: round firm breasts,
slender waist, curving hips, and slender bare ankles. He forced away
his lust. There were important things to consider, like had she caught
his scent? Perhaps, even seen him?

It wasn’t likely. I must Morph back to my human form before

she catches sight of me.

****

Tigra froze at the sight of the black wolf moving silently

through the overgrown thicket. She’d been safer as a tiger. The fine
hairs at her neck prickled. In her human form she had no chance of
outrunning a wolf. Oh, no. I left my knife, stake, and silver cross with
my clothes! She ducked deeper into the bushes and prayed her scent
wouldn’t give her away.

Although it was dark and shadowy, with her superior eyesight,

she could easily view the beast. It was a healthy-looking wolf with
striking and startling bold, silvery high-sheen markings that appeared
to extend from its neck all the way along the spine and was somehow
interspersed in its black coat.

She continued to watch it, afraid to move, fearing even the

slightest ripple of the bushes would attract its attention. It stopped
abruptly in the shadows. She saw the glint of fangs. The animal rose
up on its hind feet. It was clearly a male wolf. He was over six-foot
tall. He issued a low, throaty growl, and then the hulking, terrifying
alpha wolf was changing into a man! A nude man!

His taut, tanned hide hugged corded muscles. Her heart raced

in preparation to fight. While she tried to gather her spinning
thoughts, and as though nothing unusual had happened, he strode
through the looming shadows and underbrush, his nude body
glistening like sweat-kissed steel. She took in the muscled legs, his
young tree trunk waist and great washboard abs. A terrifying tiny
thrill shot through her.

Then she saw his face. “Hugh! What are you? Her heart

pounded. She cleared her dry throat. “I mean what are you doing
here? And where are your clothes?”

“When you left the Circus, that high-wire guy, Skully, was

following you. And since I don’t quite trust the guy, I followed you,
too.”

“I didn’t see him.” But she had caught a whiff of a male and

something musty. A mystifying surge of gratitude rose in her. With
effort, she forced a tough tone. “Thanks for your concern, but I can
take care of myself.”

“Probably, but even so, you’re crazy roaming around the hills

alone, especially while naked as a jay-bird.”

Her face flamed. She edged closer to the bush where her

clothes, the stake, and her silver cross were hidden. She and reached
down and snatched up the garments, holding them tightly in front of
her like a shield. She wished she could slip her silver cross out of the
zipper pocket of her sweats and slip it on. The stake was in another
pocket. Maybe she could ease it out.

He just watched her. The stillness about him unnerved the hell

out of her. Strips of darkness fell across his solemn face, accenting
more deeply his strong lupine contours.

She steeled herself and brashly looked him up and down. His

towering height and impressive breadth made her feel so small and…
so exposed. “What about you?”

Feral gray eyes, blazing with wolf-like ferocity, held hers. She

felt his power and her own vulnerability. His expression grew stony
again. “Forget me.” He grabbed her arm with animal swiftness. She’d
almost had the stake out of the pocket and it fell to the ground. He
looked down at it and then back to her. “Vampire hunting?” When he
bent, picked it up, and handed it back to her, his grip on her arm
tightened.

She fought to ignore the heat ignited within her at his

intensified hold. Way too aware of his nudity, she tried not to look
down again. And failed. He was magnificent. And a werewolf! she
reminded herself. Oh, God. I’m in real trouble here. As far as she
knew, she’d never known a Lycanthrope before. Even now she could
feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering, but she resisted the urge
to look up and meet it again. The loss of control she'd felt in those
brief, endless moments of contact had been as unexpected and
frightening as it was inexplicable. She wasn't eager to repeat the
experience. But the small stubborn core of her demanding control
over herself and her surroundings pricked at her without mercy. With
a soft curse on an indrawn breath, she looked up. Her uncontrollable
gaze traveled over the strong, sharply cut lines of his jaw, but it wasn't
until she reached his eyes that she felt the full impact of his intensity.

His eyes shone with their own inner light. They burned—they burned
on hers. Her breath caught in her throat. He was staring at her, and
returning her daring scrutiny.

“I saw you morph,” he growled. “You’re a tiger shifter.” He

raked his midnight black hair. “When I put you in the cage during the
performance you didn’t change places with a tiger! You changed into
one! Then you stalked me and scared the hell out of me.”

“So?” She hated the tremor in her voice and the mesmerizing

effect of his glinting, thickly-lashed eyes. “You’re a werewolf!”

“Then you saw me morph, too? What are you going to do

about it?” He tightened his jaw.

She lifted her chin. The night chill nipped at her bare skin. She

wrapped her arms around herself. “It depends. What are you going to
do?”

“There’s a hot spring just ahead that is a corollary from the

Arrowhead Springs. Let’s go there, warm up, and figure this out.”

“First, let me get dressed.”
“Later. You won’t want to get your clothes wet.”
She wondered why that sounded so reasonable. Running

through the hills naked with him was totally insane. And on so many
levels—dangerous. He was a werewolf for heaven’s sake.

Chapter Twelve

Struggling for control, Tigra breathed in the crisp wee-hours

air, savoring the myriad scents of the late night. Before it ended she
planned to know more about her mysterious werewolf assistant. They
ran for about a half mile across the brush-covered hillside at matched
marathon-speed and ended up at a clearing. A steamy pool lay ahead,
dark and daunting. As though Hugh had hypnotized her into doing his
bidding, Tigra tucked her clothes under a bush and allowed him to
lead her into the shadowy, swirling and steaming waters. While the
wind echoed eerily around them, he paused and stared down at her.
His feral gray eyes blazed with wolf-like ferocity. His expression
grew stony, yet she wasn’t afraid as much as she was fascinated.

She was aware of the steam moistening her face and locks of

damp hair clinging to her cheeks. Hugh brushed the strands away and
in the process, his thumb grazed her collarbone. The intimate gesture
caused her breathing to go shallow. Her breasts went taut with
expectation. She knew the minute she looked up into his intense,
seducing eyes it was a wrong move. He held her gaze while he
lowered his head toward her.

The slowness of his movements added an impatient and

instinctive tiger lust to her rising passion. The beat of Hugh’s heart
throbbing against her bare breasts accelerated the hot, wet wildness
rising in her. She almost had an orgasm when his hot body tensed
against hers as if his blood was starting to boil. He touched her
nipples so lightly she wasn’t even sure she hadn’t imagined it. Then,
he slipped his hand down into the water to the curve of her hips and
caressed her bare thighs. With all the determination she could gather,
she pushed against his muscled chest, fighting the pulsing, the heat,
he’d stirred in her. He stared into her face, then bent and kissed her
again. Not with feral hunger, but gently, respectfully. Suddenly, it felt
deceptively safe and she wanted to immerse herself in the sweet non-
threatening waves.

No! This is insane; he’s using hypnosis on me. She pushed

him away.

He stopped all movement. Then, it seemed with great effort,

he started moving again, taking them into deeper water. “Relax.” He
drew her out until the water just covered her nipples.

As the dark steamy waters swirled around his muscled

abdomen, she raised her gaze and stared at his shadowy muscular
chest, wondering where the source of light was coming from that
made the skin glisten in the darkness like phosphorous. The warm
water had a relaxing effect while his relentless hold on her arm was
wildly stirring.

He drew her close and said, “Out here in the middle of the

pool, if we whisper the sound won’t carry to the edge and we’ll have
complete privacy. We’re just a whispering couple, skinny-dipping.”
His voice had lowered, and the velvet warmth of those words slid
over her, caressing her, seducing her. “What are we going to do about
our secrets?” he asked.

His breath feathered off her face. She cleared her throat but

couldn’t speak. Like an idiot, she just shook her head.

His masculine scent and steam wrapped around her like

vaporous, misty chains. He pressed closer and she felt his thigh
muscles contract. Damn him. He exuded this raw, hard-edged
sensuality that made thinking rationally impossible. Strips of darkness
fell across his solemn face, accenting more deeply his strong lupine
contours.

His prolonged stare unnerved her as much as her awareness

that they were alone nude in this steaming pool with their bodies
touching where they curved into each other. Lingering feral instincts
overpowered her sanity again, and certain now she was under some
kind of hypnotic spell, she nevertheless allowed herself to relax into
Hugh’s solid, warm embrace. He pressed even closer. Her passion
rose and to her horror, her excitement went from simmering desire to
boiling lust. She wanted him. Now!

What am I thinking—doing? This man is a werewolf and I’m a

tiger. Both of us are cursed. But now that we know one another’s
secrets we must come to an agreement and face that we need each
other. But, what if he’s the one killing all those women?

She wanted to blame the Tiger who was so much a part of her

for the lust, but she knew it was her own passions he’d aroused. She
stroked her lips. It was as if Hugh had unleashed a wildness she had
waited since birth for him to bring to life. And she ached for him to
finish the seduction and then massage her passion passages to life
again and again.

But that wasn’t all going on here. A persistent pounding from

her heart warned her feelings went beyond desire. Her growing
concern for him was so strong that no matter how much he irritated
her, the caring failed to fade. He’s dangerous to me on so many levels.
Very, very dangerous. But I can’t accept he’s a killer. It would be
easier to resist him if I could. Clinging to the needing each other
excuse for not pulling away, she looked up at his etched face; he’d set
his shadowed square jaw in determination.

What did his unyielding expression mean? Determined to do

what?

While her mind spun in confusion, he bent and when his lips

touched hers, she melted into the insanely captivating kiss. She fought
the turbulent electricity. No! No! I mustn’t let this happen. But as if
her brain and her limbs were disconnected, her arms of their own
volition pulled him closer. His back was warm, moist, and taut under
her palms and fingertips. His lips were firm against hers, his mouth
slightly open and moist. He sought her tongue. As though bewitched,
she entangled it with his, while floating under the seductive power of
his hands touching her shoulders, her breasts, her hips. Fire flooded
her veins and roared out of control, taking possession of her. His heat
and the heat of the steaming pool swirled around her, seeping into her
bones, spreading new waves of heat through her until every inch of
flesh was on fire.

“This is madness,” she whispered between crazed kisses.
Abruptly, he pulled back. His eyes glinted in the darkness

from an unknown source of light. Earlier that day, in the bright
afternoon sun, those eyes had been a silvery gray. A warm friendly
safe silvery gray.

He shook his head as though to clear it and stared at her,

looking as dazed as she was by what had passed between them. “We
better talk.” He moved back several steps. “At a distance.”

Their gazes locked. She swallowed. “Yes. And more

precisely, I think we should get out of this pool and get dressed.
Whose crazy idea was this anyway?”

“It wasn’t such a bad idea.” His voice deepened and she

thought she detected irony in his husky tone. “It made me see the
extent of our problem goes far beyond keeping secrets.”

She touched her engorged lips, fully aware he referred to their

over-powering attraction for one another and aware of the pool’s

swirling heat between her legs and around her swollen breasts. She
craved more touching—more of everything. What possessed her to
want to ride the insane pleasure to its mysterious climax? And what
possessed her to desire to do this wild, irrational thing with another
cursed soul of a different species. Maybe the forbidden uniting was
part of the lure. Thank God they’d stopped before their fervor
escalated further out of control and she showed him the full range of
her feral tiger passion. She closed her eyes, willing away the
memories seducing her to finish what they started.

****

The silence and sense of guilt for seducing his boss was heavy

on Hugh’s shoulders as they dressed hastily and headed back toward
the circus grounds. If Tigra had any doubts he was hot for her, they
were gone now. To his detriment, nothing could kill his nearly
explosive physical reaction to her. They walked inches apart. He
fought his desire to clasp her hand. Think man, think with your brain.
Granted, he’d made huge blunders. But some good had come out of
his mistakes. He’d achieved the goal he had when he left the circus
grounds—he’d kept Tigra safe. Maybe not safe from him, but—He’d
gotten way more than he’d bargained for, and, quite frankly, more
then he’d been prepared to handle. Seeing Tigra’s beautiful nude body
had sent him into a tailspin and made him crazy to seduce her at any
cost. What man wouldn’t want to experience tiger passion once in his
life? He’d heard about it, read about it, and had almost thrown caution
to the wind and crossed the line. Her complying reactions suggested
she was more than willing.

The pleasant thought disintegrated when three police units

with their sirens blaring passed them along the road and turned west.

At least, the police weren’t heading for the circus.
His mind flicked back to his sizzling memory of them in the

steamy pool. Thank God, he’d come to his senses and realized giving
in to his lust would bring more complications, complications he
wasn’t ready to handle. He had to keep reminding himself he wanted
more than a crazed romp with a woman, and he wanted to keep his
job at the circus.

He sighed. Already things have changed between us. We’re

walking no more than six inches apart, with little conversation and
probably revealing to outsiders little emotion. But I’m a knot of
emotion inside. Is she?

He thought of her running through the woods alone. He

admired her self-reliance. Since he was resurrected, he’d always
striven to strengthen a strong sense of independence himself. But over
the years he’d learned and come to appreciate the need for family and
craved a sense of belonging. Tigra apparently had never had that;
unless you called the circus and Grandy her family. If she had
someone who loved her to call on, she wouldn’t have had to wander
around by herself. But maybe she liked being a loner. That was
another reason he shouldn’t pursue and seduce her. He didn’t like the
solitary life.

He glanced at her. The silence between them was getting to

him. Although aggravated, he felt the need to say something. “I’ve
noticed your strength, your tenaciousness, your strong will, and the
way nothing stops you from your goal. While frustrating at times, I
appreciate that about you.”

She laughed a screw you kind of laugh he wasn’t sure how to

handle. Before he could think of words to repair his apparent verbal
blunder, she shrugged and said, “Thanks, I think.”

His shoulders relaxed as the tense moment evaporated into the

breeze.

Hugh looked up at more sirens. Two police units stopped at

the circus entrance and the officers jumped the turnstile, looking eager
to make an arrest. “I wonder what’s going on,” he said.

Her expression darkened. “Police around a circus always

means trouble.”

When he walked Tigra back to her caravan the two police

officers were there waiting. One was a bear of a man who looked like
he loved double portions of tortilla’s smothered in salsa and cheese.
“I’m Officer Gonzales,” he said with a curt Mexican accent. He didn’t
bother to introduce his partner, but the name plate identified the man
as Tanner. Tanner was dark- skinned with Indian high cheek bones
and steady black pupils that stared out from deep eye sockets. He
carried a lab kit.

Both men squinted and their narrowed eyes glinted as though

they were experiencing deep rage.

Gonzales’ muddy gaze intensified and he barked, “Where

have you two been since closing?” He poised to take notes.

“Out for a walk.”
“Were you together the whole time?”

Hugh hoped Tigra would back him up. “She left the circus a

few minutes ahead of me, but I caught up with her right away. What’s
wrong, officer, another robbery?”

“Worse. A young woman was brutally attacked and murdered

shortly after you left the grounds. According to witnesses who saw
you leave, the timing matched.”

Hugh frowned. So much for the closed-mouthed Circus-

Carney bunch. Or maybe they threw me to the dogs because I’m not
considered one of them. But what about Tigra?

The puncture wounds found in the young girl’s neck indicated

we’re dealing with a werewolf, tiger, or a vampire.”

Tigra’s eyes widened. “A vampire?
Gonzales’ gaze remained steady. “Whatever demon killed that

young innocent girl, it drank from her neck vein. The ghastly process
is called the vampire kiss. It’s highly erotic, but ends in death.”

Tigra paled. “Hugh, you may have saved my life.”
Gonzales looked unimpressed.
Hugh wasn’t impressed himself. He’d saved one woman, but

failed to save another. A wave of regret washed over him. Perhaps if
he hadn’t been trying to seduce Tigra in the pool…

“When the serial murders started up in our area,” Gonzales

said, “we checked on everyone who works for the circus. We learned
that you and your brother, Damon, always seemed to be around when
the werewolf attacks happened in the Mt. Baldy area.”

Tigra’s eyes widened. “Are you saying a werewolf killed that

girl?”

“Too early to tell. We know one thing for sure—whoever

killed that lovely young girl is both animal and devil.”

Lovely young girl echoed in Hugh’s head. His stomach

knotted, hurting for the girl’s family and fearing what might be going
through Tigra’s mind. “Well, I assure you, officer, neither my brother
nor I had anything to do with any killings now or ever.”

The officer glared at him with an icy, unconvinced gaze.

“Both of you. Open your mouths.”

They complied, and Hugh wondered if Tigra felt as ridiculous

and degraded as he did.

“Nice teeth,” Gonzales said as though disappointed they

weren’t fangs. “The victim

was bitten and since you were in the area and the timing fits, we need
a swab of saliva from each of you.”

Officer Tanner already had the kit open and stepped forward.

“Open,” he said, and swabbed their mouths with separate swabs and
then labeled and put each into clear plastic containers.

Hugh felt as violated as hell. Probably Tigra felt the same. But

to refuse would have thrown more suspicion on them. And neither
could chance that.

“We weren’t the only Circus people to leave the grounds

around the time of the murder,” he said. “Did you check on Vance,
the high wire, aerialist? He left the grounds just before I did. Did you
swab his mouth?”

Gonzales’s eyes darkened. Hugh figured the cop thought he

was only trying to divert blame away from himself. Tigra’s sidelong,
glowering glance suggested she might think so, too.”

“Did you see him leave, too, Miss?”
“No, but—”
“That’s all right. We’ll question him and ask around if anyone

else saw him leave the grounds. We appreciate all leads.” Gonzales
bored-eyed expression revealed he was doubtful anything would
come of it. After a moment, his gaze hardened and he glanced directly
at Hugh. “I promise you, we’re going to get this monster, whoever he
is.”

Gonzales glanced at Tanner. “All set?” When the officer with

Indian cheek bones nodded solemnly, Gonzales said, “We’ll be back
when we get the forensics reports. Don’t leave town.”

Tigra wrinkled her bow. “What if your tests take longer than

our stay in town? Can you stop us from moving on when the circus
pulls up stakes?”

“We can shut down the whole operation, if necessary, and

keep everyone in town for as long as it takes. I suggest you both
continue to cooperate. And if either of you think of anything to help
us, call me.” He handed them each a card. “That includes any
information you might learn about the museum robbery. That case is
still open and it’s possible both cases are connected.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tigra’s stomach knotted. The silence between her and Hugh

was deafening as they watched the police officers hustle down her
caravan steps and disappear around the corner into the shadowy
darkness of the closed arcade.

She pulled her keys out of her hidden pocket, eager to escape

inside.

“Here, let me help you.” She felt a spark when he slid her keys

from her grasp. He inhaled as if to fortify himself and then opened the
door.

She pressed her lips tight. After a few seconds of indecision,

she said, “You want to come in? I can make hot chocolate.” She
remembered the sensual feel of him stroking her lips, stirring her,
making her want him. His eyes glinted and she had the uneasy feeling
he was reading her mind. Still a persistent sense of curiosity overrode
her concerns, and she decided to accept the danger of inviting him in.
She needed to learn what the police knew about him.

Although he could be dangerously persuasive, the risk was

vital; she had new information about this handsome roustabout that
couldn’t be ignored and another innocent young woman was dead.
She reached inside and flipped up the entry wall switch, needing to
shine some of light on what she felt certain was bound to be a
disturbing conversation. She squared her shoulders and then stepped
back and gestured for him to enter.

He lowered his brows and his eyes darkened. “You’re going

to attack me with a bunch of questions about how my brother and I fit
into all the evil, aren’t you? And then probably not believe my
answers.”

“I’m trying to keep an open mind. You’re my assistant. We

have to work together and count on each other. I want to trust you and
I want you to trust me. But knowing you are a shifter and the new
information from the police has raised questions that must be
answered for any semblance of trust between us to continue.”

He shrugged. “I want to keep my job so I’ll come in for a few

minutes. I doubt either of us will get much sleep tonight.” His
nonchalance denied the tension charging the air between them. “And
maybe the warm hot chocolate will relax us.”

She doubted anything could, and her theory was immediately

tested as he filled the caravan with his wide-shouldered presence. She
gestured to a folding chair. “Make yourself as comfortable as you can
in my cramped quarters,” she said, heading straight for the compact
alcove that served as her kitchen. From a packed cabinet, she got out
the instant chocolate, two mugs, and a jar of marshmallows.

He was staring at her with a piercing gaze. She felt vulnerable

and off balance; unfortunately she couldn’t take back that she’d
revealed her tightly-guarded secret, or allowed poor judgment and
passion in the steamy pool to further complicate and compound her
mistakes.

They remained silent until she slid the hot chocolate in front of

him and sat down next to him at the small folding table. She curled
her fingers around the mug. Barely aware of the chocolaty aroma
spiking the air, she took a long, languid sip of the marshmallowy
concoction.

Her mind churned. The murder of the young girl had sent a

new wave of darkness spiraling around them. She met his gaze. “Like
you surmised, I want to talk about you and your brother. Tell me
about your involvement with the other murder case, or cases.”

“Please understand I feel uneasy about opening private doors.”

His wary, sad expression suggested he was thinking back to his youth
and perhaps painfully recalling memories of lives entwined and then
ripped apart. “Will you promise to keep what I tell you just between
us?”

“If you keep the secret about me, I’ll keep your secrets as

guarded as my own.”

“Maybe we should strive for better than you guarded your

own. Morphing in the hills like we did isn’t guarding our secrets as
well as we could, and I think we both learned a lesson about making
sure we are totally alone before shifting.”

Her face warmed. She couldn’t deny it. “Right. Now, back to

what the police have against you and your brother.”

He looked down into his mug of hot chocolate as if the

answers were there. His long, thick lashes hid his eyes. “I had two
half-brothers. Damon and Reeves. The men were as different as
angels and devils; Damon saved lives and Reeves took them. All three
of us were werewolves. Damon found the cure that worked for him
and his family. As yet none has worked for me. Eventually Reeves

was destroyed by his own evil. But before that, he violently ripped out
my throat and I died. An angel resurrected me.”

She couldn’t hold back a gasp. “What? Do you expect me to

believe that?”

He clasped his cup so tightly his fingers whitened. “Work with

me. Learning you’re a tigress is no less difficult to accept. I assure
you, I’m not a bad man. I’ve donated my life to helping others.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. “What

do the police know for sure?”

“They know women were being attacked and killed in our

community and that we were keeping experimental wolves on our
property.”

“Why?”
“We were testing them, looking for a cure for Lycanthropy

and a substance to control lycanthropic impulses while investigating
promising serums.”

“If your half-brother Reeves was the real killer and you cared

about the women in your community, why didn’t you turn him in?”

“We didn’t know. When Damon learned of it; he tried to

alleviate the problem.”

Alarms went off in her head. “Alleviate the problem?”
“Freedom from evil can only exist if deliberately weeded out

with great effort and too often, the spilling of blood. It is a constant
unrelenting fight to win over the ever rising and encroaching
darkness. And that may be what we’re dealing with now. But I’m
getting ahead of myself. The point is, the solution wasn’t permanent.”

He held her gaze and seemed to be watching her reaction.

Uneasy, she rubbed the prickles shooting down her arms.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to get into things not

pertinent to our conversation, like the bubbling mud, and the
unsettling of demons.”

“Whoa. You’re skipping some alarming concerns my friend.”
“It’s essential for conciseness. All you need to know now is

Reeves became one of the walking dead with the ability to shift and
switch identities. The only way to stop the killing was to find a
permanent way to stop him. But with his ability to shift to other
bodies, this took years.”

“The police never learned that your evil half-brother was the

killer?”

“No, and after tremendous struggles and near death, we were

all cleared of any wrong-doing.”

“How do you know your evil brother isn’t back and up to his

old tricks of seeking revenge?”

Hugh’s expression grew stony. “You’ll just have to accept my

word. I’m positive he’ll never bother anyone again. But someone is
killing innocent women, and as of this moment, I’m locking into the
goal of finding and stopping him, while keeping you safe.”

His words sent a tiny thrill of hope through her. She didn’t

want to distrust Hugh, yet her wariness remained. Like her, he didn’t
choose to live a dual existence but was it safe to believe he was a
good guy? “You’re a scary man, Hugh, with a scary history. After
what you told me, I should run like hell.”

“I’d understand if you did. So where does that leave us?” He

closed his hand over hers.

She glanced down at their clasped hands, resisting an urge to

rip her fingers away. “Trusting our instincts and living on faith.”

Glaringly aware the gravest threat to her secret and her life

was the burning desire to unearth the truth, she looked up into his
silvery and gentle gray eyes. She took a deep breath. “I guess our next
step is to figure out a way to help the police uncover the monster
stalking the periphery of the circus without revealing or incriminating
ourselves.”

If they didn’t come up with a solid plan, an earthquake of

depraved evil would shake them and their beloved Big Top to
destruction. While working on a solution, they had to get beyond the
regret, feral instincts electrifying the air, as well as somehow stay out
of the path of evil—and stay out of one another’s arms.

Chapter Fourteen

Skull snickered at the stupidity of those he was forced to share

the world with. The police had come and gone. Without argument or
complaint, he’d allowed them to swab his mouth. He was prepared;
his blood-sucking cavern was as clean as the day, several lifetimes
ago, that he was born. His compliance revealed his willingness to
cooperate—and the absence of evidential DNA deflected suspicion
off of him. It was a win/win situation.

He looked out the window and glared into the night. Someone

would pay for sicing the cops on him. The pigs refused to tell him
who’d squealed. Several people could have seen him leave the
grounds. Was it Madam Mystic? She always had access to an opaque
global window of information. The Voodoo Queen had better stay out
of his affairs if she knew what was good for her. And she did—she
knew her every breath depended upon her silence. Maybe it was
Hugh. Skull scoffed. He didn’t really need an excuse to oft the
bastard, but he would enjoy it even more if he had a solid reason. But
with the police sniffing so close the wily assistant tiger-trainer and
roustabout served a better purpose as fall guy. Later, the moccasin-
wearing lothario could pay the deadly penalty for his interest in Tigra
and, if guilty, for sicing the cops on him.

Skull paced his caravan. He felt sure Hugh was the snitch. He

didn’t think Tigra had seen him behind her, and even if she had, she
was as closed mouthed as they come. He had always wondered what
she had to hide; her secretiveness was part of the intrigue around her.
He smiled. One day soon he’d learn her secrets and taste her blood.
Then they’d soar to a wild erotic state and he’d make her his for
eternity

****

The next morning Hugh called his brother about his prime

suspect, Skull. He hated to ask for help; he wanted to be totally self-
sufficient, but with a serial killer on the loose and innocent women in
danger he couldn’t let pride get in his way. By noon, the detective his
brother kept on retainer called. He’d unearthed only tidbits of info
about Skull. The man, like himself, kept a low profile—he’d been
with the circus for five years yet no one knew anything about his past.
He had no friends, no enemies. He hadn’t even formed a close

association with his high wire partner, the attractive Gabriella
Devaux.

Later, during practice, when Hugh told Tigra the sketchy

profile she said, “Look, I’ll admit the guy is weird and he personally
gives me the creeps, but he’s not the only creepy man associated with
this circus.”

Hugh’s throat went dry. Why she was defending him? Did she

have a thing for the high-wire king? “But he’s the only one I know
who left the circus grounds during the time of the murder.”

“Yes, you made that quite clear with the police last night,”

she said, opening the main cage. “But seeing him leave isn’t evidence,
and your accusation to the officers sounded like deflecting blame.
You left the grounds about the same time.”

He met her gaze. “And, so did you.”
She frowned. “You’ve made your point. We all left the

grounds and that’s not proof of anything. So, on my part, I won’t
jump to conclusions and decide about you or anybody without
evidence.”

“So how do we gather evidence without breaking the law? I

thought of searching Skull’s caravan. But it’s illegal and besides the
police already searched it.”

Her eyes brightened. “They searched the whole circus grounds

and found nothing. That suggests I was right to consider looking for
evidence in the hills. I think we should go treasure hunting in the
caves after tonight’s show. If we luck out and find the golden
arrowhead perhaps its discovery will lead us to the killer.”

Hugh frowned. “Or, maybe lead the police to us.”
She lifted her chin. “Do you have a better idea?”

****

After the show, in her strips of fur and cape, Tigra hurried to

her caravan. The weather had been clear all day, but suddenly the sky
darkened and rain drizzled from the swollen skies. She leapt over
puddles. The change in weather encouraged the crowds to clear the
grounds fast and they headed for the exits en masse.

She’d just stepped into her caravan when the sky broke wide

open in a thunderous rumble and the rain fell in torrents. She stood in
the entry dripping and looking out, her stomach in knots. Lightning
scrawled silver zigzags across the sky and illuminated the top of the
dark, stilled Ferris wheel. She saw Hugh running toward her and

wondered if their adventure into the hills was off. Their scheduled
interval at this circus location was limited and they were dealing with
a ticking clock. But, but the weather was—

“Ready to go,” he asked as he took the steps to her caravan

two at a time.

She frowned out at the pouring rain and slipped out of her wet

sandals. “Sure, why not?” She wore only a soaked gold cape over her
strips of wet fur. “Give me a sec to change into something more
appropriate for wandering through spiky bushes and chilly caves.”
From the cupboards, she got out the instant coffee and two mugs.
“Make yourself useful.”

Mostly she wanted to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t

think too much about her forth-coming nudity.

She stepped behind a screen and stripped. She grabbed two

towels and tossed one over the top of the divider to Hugh.

He laughed. “Not much point in drying off. I’ll just get soaked

again. Besides, I like water.”

“Yes, I’m aware of lycanthropes love of water. Dry off,

anyway. I don’t want you dripping all over my caravan.”

“Right.” His voice was deep, the tone lilting.
What did he have to be amused about? She heard the

microwave ding and a second later she inhaled the tempting aroma of
coffee. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped into a
sleeveless sweater. When she hurried out from behind the screen, he
handed her a mug. She clicked hers with his. “To finding hidden
treasure.” Standing only inches apart, they took a couple of sips.

He glanced at her bookcase, one special made for traveling

folks. It had a see-through screen and doors on sliders. “Ingenious,”
he said. “I’d like to build one of those for myself. Am I allowed to
make improvements to my abode?”

“Sure. Just run your plans by the big boss. I’ll tell him it’s a

good idea.”

“Interesting collection of books for a tiger trainer.”
She laughed. Her choice of reading material always surprised

people. They didn’t understand why most of her books centered on
crime and police science. “I suppose I acquired my interest in police
procedures from Grandy. He came from a family of policemen.

Hugh’s gaze fixed on the title of one of the books: An

Introduction to Forensic Science and Criminal Investigation.

“Knowledge of such things could come in handy. You are a multi-
faceted lady. Just when I think I have you figured out…” He glanced
at a chair but didn’t sit down. “Have you read all those books?”

She laughed. “Most of them.”
“Well, being friends with a woman exposed to such

information could be helpful in our adventure tonight.” He gestured
with his mug full of coffee. “To success. I’d love to relax and discuss
your choice of reading material further, but I have a feeling we’re
only seen the beginning of this storm and the sooner we head out the
better.”

She nodded, drained her cup, and then opened a tiny closet.

She pulled out two London Fog raincoats; the larger had belonged to
Grandy.

“These will keep the worst of it off of us and might block

some of the wind. It gets cold in caves very quickly.”

“Right,” he said.
She’d learned in the short time since they’d set down stakes in

San Bernardino that it didn’t matter how high the temperature rose in
the day time, it always cooled at sunset, and on a stormy, dark night
such as this one the barometer-drop chilled clear to the bones.

She gathered a flashlight, matches, a couple of energy bars,

bottles of water, a few small plastic bags, and a six-by-six plastic
medical kit and tucked them into a knapsack.

“Good thinking,” he said.
A grin pulled at the corners of her mouth at his praise. She

shoved a pair of thin plastic gloves into her pocket for good measure.

He helped her into her coat and when he lifted her hair and

tucked it into the hood, she felt a tingle of warmth slide down her
spine. “Thanks,” she said past the constriction in her throat.

Dear God. I’m starting to care more for Hugh than is healthy

for either of us. Everyone she’d allowed herself to care for was dead;
what if by allowing this affection to grow, she was signing his death
warrant? After tonight, I must cool things down!

****

Hugh always prided himself on being a good tracker. When he

turned north instead of south Tigra sent him a questioning look. “The
front entrance is the other way,” she said.

He winked and continued leading the way through the dimly

lit arcade into the blackness at the rear of the grounds. “If we leave by
the back way, we have a better chance of not being seen.”

“It’s fenced.”
“I’ll help you over.”
Tigra sent him an over-my-dead-body look. She broke ahead

of him and took off for the furthest corner of the chain link fence.
Why? Is she afraid of having me touch her body? Afraid of her own
reactions? Conceited fool, you’d like to believe that, he told himself.

Before he could catch up, she climbed the chain link fence like

a monkey, then putting her hand on a support post, she swung herself
over the fence like a gazelle. Hugh knew she was part tiger, but he
hadn’t known, that like him, she had the attributes of a whole damned
zoo. He followed suit and they ran into the hills. He grabbed her hand.
When she started to pull away, he said, “We need to stay together for
safety’s sake; it would be easy to get separated on a stormy, dark
night like this.”

She nodded.
Great affection welled up inside him. He was finding it

difficult not to fall in love with this tiger-woman. He tightened his jaw
against the agony. Once he made things right and made sure she was
safe, he had to back off.

****

Tigra fought a troubled giddiness. Like Hugh said, we’re only

holding hands to stay together. But it felt so right. Trying to ignore
the warmth and strength of his big hand clutching her smaller hand,
she combed the outline of the hills, watching for a dark indentation
that might indicate a cave. She wanted to find a cave not only to
search it for the golden arrowhead but also to seek shelter from the
menacing lightning arcing too close for comfort.

The rain fell in torrents. Lightning scrawled zigzags across

the sky and illuminated the outline of the hills. The dripping trees and
bushes were a mass of black shadows, seemingly crouching like
demons ready to strike.

Another arc of lightening flashed over the hills. “Look,” Hugh

said, “a cave, ahead to your right.”

“Yes, I see it.” An eerie feeling sent a prickle through the

roots of her hair.

As they ran into the darkness of the cave, a boom of thunder

exploded over the top and echoed through its tunnels. Another arc of
lightning lit up the entrance. Hugh pulled her back from the arcs. The
brightness sent wicked lights and shadows flickering across his steely
features. Thunder struck again and when she jumped, he drew her
close. His faint aroma reminded her of wet redwood. She loved the
smell of wood. To keep from putting her arms around him, she dug
through the bag for the flashlight.

She heard a low growl and inhaled wet fur. “Oh, no. I think

we’ve invaded a wolf’s den.”

A pair of glowing eyes peered out at them from the darkness.
“Don’t turn on the flashlight. I’ll handle it.”
Tigra heard what sounded like the swish of a discarded

raincoat and then the angry growling of more than one wolf. She
suspected Hugh had morphed. Icy with fear and burning with
curiosity, she went against Hugh’s instructions and flashed the light
on the wolves.

One was black with bold, silvery marking and the other gray.

The black wolf with starling, silvery markings was Hugh. As if he
didn’t want to harm the slightly smaller wolf, he got down on all fours
and met the animal’s gaze. His apparent attempt at hypnosis and
creating a telepathic bond didn’t scare off the beast. The wolves faced
each other, lips curled, incisors bared, and growling. Hugh’s feral
Gray eyes blazing with wolf ferocity. Hugh bristled his fur, then he
stood up on his hind legs, throwing a giant shadow onto the wall. The
wolves began to circle. The glow from the flashlight highlighted her
alpha werewolf’s ferocity. Her heartbeat quickened. Unidentified
emotions rushed through her, but she didn’t have time to sort them
out. She had the urge to help, but he seemed to have things under
control. She kept an eye on the battling wolves, watching for a shift of
power. Hugh crouched low and issued a throaty growl. His eyes
glowed like hot coals. The wolf, which was only protecting his den,
lunged for Hugh’s throat. She gasped, caught in a riveting sense of
rising panic. She didn’t want either of the wolves to be hurt,
especially Hugh.

Hugh whipped around and counter attacked. Fully engaged by

Hugh, the threatening wolf curled his lips, his gleaming incisors
bared. He leapt at Hugh again. Hugh thrashed about to stop the
enraged wolf from closing his jaws on his throat. While her alpha

werewolf fought the wolf, muzzle to muzzle and blocked bite for bite,
she shrugged off her clothing and morphed into her Tiger form.
Growling, she jumped on the back of the wolf with her claws
extended and dug them and her incisors into his shoulders and neck.
The deafening rumble of the three of them growling echoed through
the cave. The wolf thrust himself against the cave’s wall and knocked
her off his back. Terrified, she watched for a chance to get back into
the action.

The shadows on the wall reflected the fierceness of the battle.

She smelled blood. She leapt onto the gray wolf’s back again. He
shook her off onto the hard rock floor then fixed his piercing gaze on
her. As she edged away, he leapt and tried to close his incisors on her
throat. She dodged and slinked out of his reach. Hugh used the
distraction to attack again. He went for the throat. The wolf twisted
and Hugh bit into his shoulder. Blood gushed out.

The wolf let out a pained whine. The injured animal glared at

them—tiger and wolf—then as if feeling out-numbered and out
maneuvered, it retreated and disappeared deeper into the bowels of
the cave.

She froze, listening, afraid to move.
A gust of wind whistled through the cave. It smelled

musty…like death.

Ahead was a dangerous, injured wolf and behind was…what?

A vampire…a serial killer?

Tigra shivered, struck by the eerie feeling she was in a never

ending nightmare with a duality of evil, slinking toward them from
two directions, ready to attack.

Chapter Fifteen

After shifting back to her human form Tigra glanced over at

Hugh who had also shifted. He put his finger to his lips and drew her
into his warm arms. They huddled nude and silent in the shadows for
about five minutes to make sure the immediate peril was over then
Tigra scrunched her brows and whispered,” You’re bleeding.” She
fought the effect of his heat mingled with her lingering apprehension.

He looked down at her with thickly lashed eyes. “Just

scratches and shallow bites. I can treat it later.”

“Too dangerous,” she said, digging the medical kit out of her

backpack. “The smell of fresh blood could bring the whole pack
sniffing around.”

“Pack? What makes you think there might be more than one

wolf?”

She gently touched his shoulder, stepped closer again, and

said, “Nothing. Just considering all the possibilities.”

He placed his hands on her nude waist and laughed softly.

“We’re alike in that respect.”

Heat and desire shot through her, but she forced herself to

close her mind to his touch, his nearness, and concentrate on the
likely danger waiting ahead.

“Then you’ll appreciate my other reasons as well—vampires

can smell blood for miles, and when we return to the circus, the odor
of the fresh red stuff will stir up my tigers.”

Fighting a relentless yearning, she smoothed antibiotic cream

gently over his taut, firm skin and then bandaged his gashes, trying
not to let his feral-manly scent or his breath feathering across her
cheek distract her. If she looked up into his eyes again, she might do
something stupid like draw his head down and kiss him. When he
flexed his biceps hard and tensed under her fingertips, her heart
quickened.

What the devil is wrong with me? If he were seriously hurt, I

could concentrate on the wound, but these shallow slashes and gashes
won’t even require stitches.

Earlier, his quick, alpha jump-to-action was controlled and

agile—a performance that perhaps saved their lives. The potential for
further danger is what I should be thinking about, not how much I

crave having his hands on me, his body touching mine, and finishing
what we started in the steamy pool.

She stiffened her back. Determined to keep her goals and

priorities straight, she forced herself to look up at Hugh.

He leaned forward slightly, staring at her lips.
Damn it. If he kisses me, I’ll melt like the San Gorgonio white

caps under the searing summer heat.

He took a deep breath as though needing extra oxygen and

flexed his jaw. “We have a decision to make. My instincts tell me to
risk going forward. What about your instincts?”

My instincts are to jump your bones, Wolfman.
Above the cave, the sky rumbled with thunder. “The storm is

getting worse.” It was all she dared to say with her whole being
zinging with longing. Then she reined in her insanity. “We’re here
and if you’re okay, I say let’s go for it and thoroughly search the cave
before moving on.”

His hypnotic silvery gray eyes met hers. After a simmering

moment, he nodded and said, “Even though it would be quicker to
split up and search—with the unknown ahead and behind us—we’d
better stay close together.”

I’d like to be close enough to join as one, she thought. But all

she allowed herself to say was, “No argument.”

They redressed quickly and slipped back into their rain-wear

to ward off the chill.

With their flashlight beams circling, they inspected every

indentation and loose rock along the way. Tigra didn’t know how
long they’d been in the cave, but it seemed like hours. Their soaked
London Fog raincoats gave little warmth and she couldn’t stop her
teeth from chattering. What she needed was Hugh’s body pressed
tightly to hers.

As if he’d read her thoughts, he paused and drew her into his

arms. “Let’s take a break and warm you up. You could get sick and
then I’d have to finish the search alone.”

She looked up at him, reveling in the warmth of his arms and

fascinated by the way the shadows played across his face. “No way,
Wolfman. Don’t even think of cutting me out of the treasure hunt.
We’re a team.”

Hugh’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “Okay then, the least I can

do is warm you up some.”

A smile tugged at her lips and her desire soared higher. Now

the party was getting interesting again.

He slipped off his coat and, over the top of her London Fog,

he pulled his wrap tight around her shoulders.

Darn, is that all he meant?
Surprisingly, the wet cloth warmed slightly by his body heat

blocked some of the chill. When he eased her down into a sitting
position on the cold, stone floor, she shivered. “Thanks, but this is
like sitting on a block of ice.” Unfortunately, it didn’t cool her ardor.

“We’ll get you warm and toasty in a jiffy,” he said, gathering

scraps of kindling wood and dried brush. He placed them into a pile to
build a fire.

When he squatted and struck a match, anticipatory warmth

slid through her.

Fascinated, she watched his soaked, skintight jeans mold over

firm-looking buns. A thrill slid down her spine. Wolf or man, he was
gorgeous.

Within seconds, flames danced over the stack of kindling with

hot abandon. If he were to make love to me, I’ll bet we could do the
dance of passion with the same fiery abandon.

As if in answer to her desire, he drew her into his arms and

held her a few moments, rubbing her arms and back. Like a languid
cat, she stretched, fully aware Hugh’s gaze was devouring the arc of
her torso.

“Thanks, Hugh. The heat is almost as warming as settling in

that steamy pool again,” she said as they toasted themselves by the
fire. And like at the pool, your touch is driving me wild.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but said nothing. With

thoughts of the steamy pool jetting between them, she wondered
who’d speak first or make the next move. Minutes passed.

Suddenly as though driven by some unknown emotion, Hugh

turned from the fire and reached for her hand. “Are you warm enough
to continue?” His voice was husky and his tone too deep and sexy to
be merely referring to continuing their search of the cave.

She nodded. Her quivering lips couldn’t form the yes.

Trembling at his touch, she let him assist her to her feet. He threw dirt
over the flames and doused them. “This narrow part of the cavern
should hold the heat for a while and even filter some into the rest of
the cave.”

His wolfish nonchalance denied the tension charging between

them. He grinned as though he suspected his effect on her. Which was
not a surprise—he should be totally aware of it after their passionate
sojourn in the steamy pool and then her mentioning it again. The heat
rising in the cavern felt good, but the heat in her body terrified her.
Think, she told herself, think only of the goals. We must find the
arrowhead and stay alive.

****

Disappointment washed over Tigra as they finished searching

the first cave with no success. Outside, the wind whistled down
through the valley’s sullen and rain-soaked landscape.

“Want to give up for tonight?” Hugh asked.
“How many caves do you think there are in this sector?” she

asked past her wariness.

“Without a geologist’s report, there’s no way to know. I can

order a map tomorrow.”

“The clock is ticking and people are dying. Maybe we’ll find

the cave we need tonight and you won’t have to bother.”

He laughed. “Somehow I guessed you’d say that.”
They walked side by side, their searching gaze alert for the

blackened entrance of the next cave. He reached for her hand and
closed his warm one over her icy one.

“You could use some gloves,” he said.
She had a pair of plastic ones in her pocket in case she needed

them, but she knew he didn’t mean those kind of gloves. She laughed.
“And Southern California is supposed to be the warm, sunshine state.
If this bad weather continues, the circus could sink into the red.”

He scoffed. “Don’t give me something else to worry about. I

have my heart set on doing the full loop of travel with this circus.”

“I pray your dreams come true. A close down would hurt a lot

of people. The circus is all most of us know. It gets in one’s blood.”
His expression softened and the gray in his eyes took on the hue of
silver mist. “I pray for everyone’s sake the circus remains in the black
for many years to come.” She heard the concern for others in his
voice and couldn’t stop her heart for going out to a man who so
deeply cared about his fellow man.

She sighed. “I wish staying solvent was our only concern.”

They circled a fallen tree limb lying across their path. “Now with an
innocent girl murdered less than a fourth of a mile from the circus,

maybe by a vampire, other customers in possible danger, and the
police circling our grounds like hungry vultures, there is much more
at stake.”

He pulled her to a stop and pointed to an ominous circle of

complete blackness. “Look. We almost missed this cave entrance.”

She nodded, and followed him inside. She switched on her

flashlight and looked around at the shadowy cavern, her mind still
locked into their discussion. “I know about tigers and a little about
wolves, but I don’t know much about vampires. You’ve had firsthand
experience with vampires. What can you tell me about them?”

He stared at her for a long, measuring moment. “A vampire

can maintain complete physical evidence of its former existence as a
perfectly healthy and normal human. Its rejuvenation is so convincing
it can safely move to areas where it isn’t known and live an
anonymous existence by day and create havoc with the living at
night.”

A chill slipped down her spine. He was a werewolf, and

claimed he’d been resurrected; could he be a vampire as well? “How
does one protect themselves from a vampire?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the various tales. I think each vampire

is different, based on its history. One popular belief is that to remove
its evil powers, a believer can draw blood from a vampire’s vein just
above the right eye. But no one has explained how the believer can
trap the demon into a position where such an extraction could viably
be performed. One thing is certain; the vampire is violent, malicious,
and has returned to torment the living. If that’s what we’re dealing
with, we have big trouble.”

She frowned. “How could it be anyone at the circus? No one

there has time to sleep all day in a coffin.” And she’d definitely kept
Hugh too busy for lounging around anywhere.

“The vampire is not necessarily a nocturnal creature. It can

appear any time, including midday.”

Oh, great. “What could drive a creature like that?” She

shivered at the beast’s brutish and depraved ways, while a sense of
eeriness whispered around her on the dank air of the cave.

“The vampire’s hatred is the embodiment of an ancient hatred

and jealousy of the living. Somewhere back in time, someone may
have done him wrong and now, unless stopped, the malignant dead
will make everyone pay.”

“You said an angel resurrected you. Are you a vampire?”
He rubbed his jaw and shook his head. “So you still doubt me?

I’ll try again to make you understand. I’m not a vampire. This second
gift of life is all I get. I’ll have to make the best of it while I’m here. I
do have the blessing of extended youth and a long life—that is if
someone doesn’t kill me. And I am a werewolf, as you discovered.
Now you know all of my secrets. Now tell me all of yours.”

Tension shot through her. “Later,” she said. She had flashed

her light over the rock wall facade so quickly she almost missed
seeing the long piece of red thread snagged on a low, protruding rock.
The bright, silken string was clean and un-weathered. She dug out one
of the small plastic bags from her backpack and tucked the red thread
inside. She waved her packaged find in front of Hugh’s eyes to divert
his interest away from her secrets. Then she dashed ahead and spied a
huge boulder that seemed to be sitting on newly turned dirt. “Look,
someone’s been digging here.”

He joined her and stared down at the floor of the cave.
“Things are looking up.” Excitement quickened his words.

“With the thread and now this, we know someone’s been in here
recently. But that boulder is as big as the clowns’ VW Bug.” He
glanced around. “We’d need a plank, girder, or cantilever to roll it.”

She grabbed his arm. “What about that downed tree limb

about twenty yards north of the entrance? The one that looked like it
had recently been struck by lightning. With it and our joint feral
strength, we ought to be able to move the boulder enough to dig down
and see what’s buried underneath.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s worth a try.”
Together, they half carried, half dragged the limb inside the

cave. Hugh shoved the pointed raw end under the boulder. “If we
can’t budge this big bugger, we can come back tomorrow with a
shovel.” He laughed. “Or an elephant.”

Exasperation and impatience shot through her. “Wait until

tomorrow? No way. Whatever is buried here could be gone by then.
So we are going to move it. Think positive. It will be easier if you
remember whoever pushed the boulder over the loose dirt can’t be
stronger than our joint feral strength.”

He sent her a doubting scowl. “What makes you so sure of

that?”

“I’m thinking positive.”

“Oh, that again. Okay, let’s do it.”
Together, grunting, groaning, and sweating, they finally rolled

the boulder aside. “Yeah! See? It was as easy as riding the merry-go-
round.”

He gave her a little hug. “If I’m ever stranded on a desert

island with someone, I hope it’s with someone positive like you.”

She noticed he didn’t say he wanted the person to be her, just

someone like her. She understood; as cross species they could never
have something permanent.

He grabbed up a sharp rock and started digging rapidly wolf-

style. The dagger rock she chose was deeply embedded. Hugh
stopped digging long enough to help her yank it out. Then side by
side they dug as fast as they could. With a sense of comradeship
buoying her spirits, she sent up a prayer that whatever was buried
beneath the loose dirt was exactly what they were looking for.

Her heart speeded when they uncovered a box. She reached

into her pocket and pulled out the plastic gloves. “To protect any
prints,’ she said, slipping on the gloves.

“I don’t believe you,” Hugh said. “You are my every-ready

girl.”

She laughed to herself. His girl. If only he knew how much

she’d like that to be true. The ever-ready part could easily be true. She
definitely tried.

Tigra reached for the small metal box with gloved hands and

used the hem of her coat to wipe away the dirt. Her breath caught.
Underneath the filth, the lid was engraved with the museum’s name.
With shaking hands, she pried the lid open. Inside, the velvet-lined
container the golden arrowhead gleamed up at her.

Chapter Sixteen

Upon entering Tigra’s caravan, Grandy’s miniature, mantle-

sized grand-father clock struck three A.M. After wandering around in
the stormy night through icy caves, the indoor warmth wrapped
around her like a heated blanket. Hugh followed her inside.

“Where shall I sleep?” he asked in a deep voice, looking

around.

His nude image flashed in her mind. “In your caravan,” she

said, knowing if he stayed the night she wouldn’t get any sleep.

“No way. I’m not leaving you and that solid gold arrowhead

out of my sight until we turn it over to the police.”

She paced to the opposite side of the small room. “I have a

safer idea. To protect ourselves from false accusations, we have to get
the support of the Museum and their insurance company. If we turn it
over to the police first, they may suspect we stole it and lock us up
while they run their forensic tests.” Excitement built in her. “My plan
is: we take it to the museum and suggest they hire someone to
perform their own forensic investigation, or if they wish, let them call
the police. Then, we turn it over to the police for the forensics tests in
front of the museum director and the head of their insurance
company. The museum director will be so glad to get the arrowhead
back he’ll be on our side.”

Hugh shook his head.
“Come on. Consider it,” she said, her voice and enthusiasm

strong. “Remember, the police didn’t find the artifact. We were the
ones who trudged through the storm and ventured into the caves to
find and return the historic treasure to the county of San Bernardino. I
think our driving desire to return what rightfully belongs to the
museum will shine a favorable light on us and the circus—favorable
light we circus people need.”

Hugh frowned. “Do you know the ramifications of a spotlight

on us?” His voice rose and his expression darkened. ”Our do-gooder
deed will be front page news and the real thief will know exactly who
to come after to get even.”

“I have confidence that together we can handle him.” She

hated the tremor in her voice. “But we have to do what’s right

regardless of the cost to us personally. Maybe we can get the museum
director and the police to withhold our names from the media to
protect our identity until the forensic tests are completed.”

“Don’t count on the forensics tests too much to ferret out the

thief. We wore gloves and the thief probably did the same. While I
appreciate your strong feelings on this and admire your tenacity, your-
charge-ahead-devil-be-damned attitude it complicates things.”

“The red thread should point the investigators in the right

direction.” Her stomach tightened and she clutched the metal box to
her heart. “What did you think would happen if we found the
treasure? You act like you regret finding it.”

“That’s not it. But we should be prepared for the tornado of

trouble we’re bringing down on ourselves and maybe the whole
circus.”

She sent up a silent prayer. “As I see it, we have no choice.”
He met her gaze. “As long as you realize we’ll be stuck with

the repercussions.”

She nodded. “The important thing is to protect the gold until

morning and then keep it safe until it’s been returned. I’ll find a good
hiding place after you leave.”

His eyes darkened and he sent her a hard, determined look. “I

repeat—don’t think for even a second I’m leaving you and the
arrowhead here unprotected. We found it together and we’ll hide it
together.”

Aware she wasn’t going to win this argument, she looked

around. “Where do you suggest?”

He grabbed a chair, stood on it and easily removed one of the

ceiling panels. “Up here should be safe enough until morning,
especially if I stretch out and do guard duty here on this day bed.” He
pointed to the cushioned side lounge, one too short for a tall guy like
him.

If she let him stay, neither of them would get much sleep, but

he was right, it was crucial to guard the treasure. “I’ll get you a better
pillow and a blanket. And you’d better get out of those wet clothes.”
Her heart-rate speeded recalling the muscled beauty of his nude body.

She reached into the closet and got out one of Grandy’s plaid

robes. “You can use this robe while your wet clothes dry. I don’t have
a dryer. But if you hang your duds in front of the heater, they’ll

probably dry by morning. Then you can go get some fresh clothing
from your place.”

“Thanks. I’ll work it out.”
Images of his nudity lingered in her mind.
Her queen-sized bed, a pull down, was less than ten steps

away from where he planned to sleep.

Several hours later, after hours of hearing his breathing and

each time he turned over, and smelling his feral scent, she wondered
how she’d make it through the night when already images of them in
the steamy pool and their nudity in the cave repeatedly assaulted her
senses?

****

The next morning the museum secretary led Tigra and Hugh

to the director’s wood-paneled office. The silver-haired man sitting in
front of a computer looked up. “I don’t usually see people without an
appointment.”

“We won’t take much of your time,” Tigra said as she placed

the box containing the gold arrowhead in the center of his desk. “We
thought you’d like to receive this back as soon as possible.”

He shot to his feet. “Oh, dear Lord, yes. Thank you. Thank

You.” He bent toward the box as if intending to pick it up.

“Wait! Better not touch it without gloves,” she said, handing

him a pair.

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. He slipped on the gloves

before opening it. At the sight of the gold gleaming up at him, he let
out a sigh of relief. Beaming, he lifted the box and held it tightly
against his pristine white shirt as if it were a loved one. “Where did
you find it?”

“Acting on a hunch,” Hugh said in a deep, confident voice,

“we searched the caves near the circus grounds. We were eager to do
our part as humanitarians and on behalf of the circus.”

Tigra would have laughed at how thick Hugh was laying it on,

but whatever it took to get the director’s support was okay with her.
She leaned forward. “We brought this to you at great danger to the
circus and ourselves, and we humbly request that you and the police
withhold our names until after the investigation.”

“I can’t promise for the police department, but your names

will be kept confidential by our office.”

She opened her mouth to discuss it further when Officers

Gonzales and Tanner sauntered in. Apparently the secretary had
called them. Both men squinted and their narrowed eyes glinted with
suspicion.

Gonzales’ muddy gaze intensified. “Why am I not surprised

you two are the
good Samaritans? Let’s hear your story and it better be good.” He
poised to take notes.

After they told the officers how they acquired the box, Tigra

showed the law men the red thread. “We’re hoping along with any
latent prints on the treasure box and the gold arrowhead that the silken
thread will help you find the thief.”

“Maybe, I’m looking at him or her,” Gonzales said. “Don’t

leave town, either of you.”

Tigra smiled past the slight tremor in her lip. “Thanks, Officer

Gonzales. It’s nice to be wanted. I knew we’d be rewarded for doing
our civic duty.” She turned to the director. “Keep that safe now.”

He extended his hand. “I’m grateful to both of you and I plan

to show my gratitude in every way I can. I’m sure this questioning
and warning is just a formality with the police officers. In my book
you two are heroes.”

Chapter Seventeen

Skull stormed into Madam Mystic’s tent unconcerned that she

was ready to start a tarot reading. As usual, the inside reeked of
incense and sawdust. If he hadn’t been enraged, he would’ve laughed
at her feeble attempt at intrigue with the exotic aromas, dimly lit
interior, and arrangement of skulls and make-believe worm-like
snakes crawling out of the eyes and mouths.

He strode up to the table covered with a woodsy brown velvet

tapestry where the mystic sat across from the gray-haired,
grandmotherly-type customer. The bent, frail client’s eyes widened.

Glaring down, he said, “Out, old lady!” He swept up the

money on the table and thrust it into the old lady’s fist. Then he
grabbed the granny by the arm, lifted her, and shoved her stumbling
toward the exit. “Save your money. You don’t need a fortune teller to
confirm you have no future!”

Madam Mystic, or Maggie as most of the carneys and circus

troupe called her, shot to her feet. “You’ve gone too far this time,
Skully.” The turban-wearing, six-foot tall African flexed her muscled
arms threateningly and fisted her immense, ham-hock hands, but the
tremor in her calypso accented voice revealed the woman’s
uneasiness.

“Sit down! Maggie Maggot. You won’t do anything or tell

anyone anything. Now, heat up your crystal ball and spill who
absconded with my golden arrowhead.”

Mystic Maggie met his gaze with glints of fear in her dark

eyes. “So you admit you’re the thief.”

“You’ve known about my entrepreneurial acquisitions for

years, so don’t play dumb with me, Maggie. Who took my
arrowhead?”

He willed his teeth to lengthen and glint like sharp shards of

ivory, and his eyes to glow red as his demon spirit eroded her
willpower and strength.

Full blown terror filled her eyes. “Leave me alone!”
“Not a chance.” She was still useful, so he didn’t want to

outright kill her; instead he merely eroded her physical resources in a
way that would weaken and frighten. “Who?” he repeated in a violent
whisper.

She waved a trembling hand across the crystal ball and the

image of the interior of the cave where his treasure disappeared came
into view, clearly revealing the culprits. He wasn’t surprised. He’d
suspected Hugh was looking for a way to worm his way into Tigra’s
heart with heroism. Well, if the roustabout/lion tamer wanted to show
off, he’d give him a barrage of non-stop trouble, with a Rolo-method
finale to eliminate him forever.

****

Tigra let out a sigh of relief as they passed through the

entrance turnstile and stepped into the confines of the place she felt
most at home—the circus grounds with all of its excitement and
familiar smells. The sun on her shoulders felt warm and gave her
hope. If only she could interpret the sketchy patterns forming on the
edges of her mind. She realized with a jolt she’d been worrying about
more than just the theft and the revenues needed to keep the circus
afloat. If the circus folded, Hugh would probably disappear from her
life. She darted a glance at him. The sun now gracing the blue sky
danced on his black hair. Seeing the blue highlights glinting on his
crown and their world gleaming under the sunny brightness sent a
surge of optimism. She dared to hope that the thief would be caught,
the revenues would climb, the circus would rocket back on track to
financial health. Best of all that Hugh would stick around and
permanently join their circus family.

Suddenly out of the crowd, an unfamiliar white-faced clown

in full costume and skull cap ran up to her and silently handed her a
note. He danced around her like a frisky puppy. “Who is this from?”
she asked, feeling her shoulder tendons tighten.

He grinned wider as though it were a colossal joke and

shrugged.

Well, it can’t be very important, she thought, relaxing a bit and

tucking it into her pocket.

His brows lowered and he mimed that she should read it.
Still coming down from the stressful police interrogation, she

needed a few minutes without someone wanting something of her or
pressuring her. She patted her pocket. “Later.”

The clown tilted his head and pointed to the Ferris wheel like

an excited child before turning and skipping back up the arcade as
though he wanted her to follow him.

She smiled at his mime antics and then met Hugh’s

questioning gaze. “Before we rehearse, how about a ride on the Ferris
Wheel? Being on top of our world relaxes me and clears my head.”

Hugh’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I love that you’re a kid

at heart. And I’d like very much to see the place from a hawk-eye
view.”

By the time they headed up the arcade, the clown had

disappeared. When they arrived at their destination, they didn’t have
to stand in line. Leroy, the attendant, wearing his red shirt and red
cap, motioned them forward. It wasn’t unusual for employees,
needing to get back to work, to be waved to the head of the line. The
three of them exchanged pleasantries while Leroy made sure they
were strapped in. Then he saluted and shoved the gear down with
wiry muscled arms, and up they went.

She squealed at the rapid, exhilarating ascent. Hugh closed his

hand over hers and the simple joy of his touch cheered her soul as
they soared into the azure blue together. Happiness sometimes came
in the small moments and as a circus gypsy or vagabond, she’d
learned to cherish every one. Relationship wise, Hugh and I can’t
have anything permanent, but we have now.

Up at the top, close to the puffy clouds stretching over the

hills, she inhaled deeply and viewed the bustling crowds in the arcade
below. They all looked eager to absorb the magic of the circus as she
and Hugh were doing. Together. For now.

Tigra breathed in scents of grilling dogs and popping corn.
She glanced at Hugh. Taking this moment together was

therapeutic. They both needed to get away from their worries about
the repercussions that were sure to come from retrieving and returning
the stolen golden treasure to its rightful owner.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Hugh said, “Don’t worry, we’ll

handle whatever comes.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thanks for
suggesting this.”

She warmed inside. When it came to men, she’d been born

without a patience gene and Hugh, bless him, was the epitome of
patience. It meant so much that right now he had the ability to accept
she needed this calming moment.

From below, music from the marching band floated upward.

She recognized the song: “You’re not alone.” As though he was
touched by it too, he squeezed her fingers. It was ironic, since meeting

Hugh, she’d felt a sense of comradeship and understanding with
someone for the first time in her life. He was the only one she’d ever
met who understood the challenges and loneliness of living a dual
existence. Even Grandy, who loved her deeply, couldn’t relate. Not
because he didn’t try.

Hugh appeared to fully understand, perhaps because of his

own curse. She closed her eyes a moment against the threat of tears.
Their budding relationship might have had a chance if he was a tiger,
but falling in love with a wolf was fraught with disaster. Besides, her
own curse made it unfeasible to seriously consider mating with any
man, human, or cross species. What made their impossible
relationship more difficult to accept was his uniqueness. He was the
first man who ever made her wish she were normal. And it was just
her unfortunate luck that besides being a fantastic man, he had the
small problem of being a werewolf.

The Ferris wheel had stopped at the top longer than usual. The

sun burned hot on her back. There wasn’t a hint of a breeze. She
glanced down. Leroy was no longer at the controls. The crowd
seemed to be scattering. She felt tension radiating from below
reaching up for them like arcing, electrically charged fingers.

She met Hugh’s questioning gaze. “I think we may have a

problem.”

He pointed toward the red and white striped menagerie tent

that sheltered the animals. Flames licked the sky, and roars and cries
came from inside the refuge. “More than one,” he shouted as he
unlatched the safety bar. We have to get down there.”

“Follow me,” she said. “I’ve done this before. We’ll be fine as

long as the Ferris wheel doesn’t move.”

Sliding, shinnying, and walking girders like high wire

aerialists, they quickly made their way halfway down before the
wheel jerked and dropped downward, like a falling elevator. Tigra
lost her balance and tumbled forward. Alarm and stress triggered the
morphing process. She felt her hair growing wilder, her teeth
elongating. God, I don’t want to die caught between my dual worlds.

Barely in the nick of time, Hugh reached out and grabbed her

around the waist.

Their eyes met for an instant. The intense gray reflected the

same intensity of panic she felt. He was morphing, too, and his
shifting was proceeding faster than hers. Oh, God, they were in big

trouble. She had no idea how much until her weight and movement
pulled him off balance and apparently he had no choice but to jump.

On their foot-first downward plunge, he pulled her against his

body as if to protect her. Like a falling missile, they plummeted
straight for the top of the fortune teller’s tent.

As they sank into the sturdy canvas, she whispered, Thank

you, God, for providing this to break our fall.

The wide-eyed mystic must have somehow untangled herself

from the fallen poles and buckled canvas because she ran outside,
looking dazed to see what had collapsed her tent.

Tigra wasn’t surprised her Tigress appearance didn’t seem to

faze the mystic. It was the wily mystic who’d told her of her early
history before the circus became her whole world. But she was
astonished Hugh’s unruly hair extending down his back and his
arched, thick eyebrows framing piercing gray eyes didn’t cause any
reaction. Nor did his dark, hairy jawline, or pointy ivory teeth that
gleamed fiercely in the sunlight.

“Fire!” Hugh shouted to the mystic. “At the menagerie. Get

help!”

They had no time to wait and verify if she would do as told.

On the run, Tigra followed Hugh toward the flames. They were
almost to the inferno when a stampede of animals rushed toward
them. Hugh dived out of the way, taking her with him as he rolled
under a still standing calliope and its musical pipes.

As frightened creatures of every kind zigzagged, bolted,

galloped, grunted, and whinnied around them, he said, “We have to
morph back before anyone else sees us.”

She nodded and pressed her lips against his ear so he could

hear her over the chaos. “Later, if anyone saw us, I can convince them
the getup was merely costuming for a new act.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” he shouted as the mass of wild

animals scurried behind tents and leapt over carts, drums, and
anything in the way, knocking things over. It was obvious they were
as panicked as the terrified escaping crowd. Stripes, the gentlest of
their big cats slid lithely though the opening into the Big Top and
disappeared before they could stop him. Bumped tent awnings
trembled and the arcade exploded with the thunderous sound of
running human bodies shoving against bodies, trying to escape the sea
of animals trampling anything and anyone in their path. The air

crackled with the sound of burning wood supports and a cacophony of
cries of pain and fear. The mass of animals suddenly changed
direction. The fencing around the property could never hold back the
rushing stampede of elephants, horses, tigers, lions, and zebras. If the
animals escaped the grounds, it would take days to round them up, not
to mention the damage to the community. Was this disaster the end of
the circus?

Fire engines roared onto the site; the screaming sirens

increased the animals’ panic.

“Thank God, the fire crews are here to contain the fire,” Hugh

said.

“But the fire isn’t our biggest problem. Containing crazed

animals is like trying to stop the flood waters after a dam breaks. And
if the mayor sends in the animal control people, our animals will very
likely be injured or killed.”

Hugh nodded. “Surely the boss has emergency plans in place

to end this rampage.”

“I think the berserk, running-amok stampede is too far out of

control for the usual methods. But it’ll be wise to get his input.”

Tigers were feared, despised, or worshiped depending upon

where they lived and roamed. Here in the city-limits the emotions
would be icy fear and crazed panic.

Just as the Boss’s office caravan came in sight, an elephant

ducked his trunk and rolled the structure over. They found him inside
bleeding and in shock. Tigra snapped open her cell phone and called
the paramedics and the on-site veterinarian.

When the medics arrived, Tigra and Hugh left their boss in

good hands, determined to go where they were needed most. With
chaos swirling around them, they ran through the arcade, rounding up
as many of the more docile animals as possible.

Tigra did a Tarzan-like call, praying her tigers could hear over

the cacophony. Stripes, Alex, and Queenie came bounding toward
her. She led them to a large covered outside cage in the training arena
and quickly gave them extra food and water. When each animal was
treated properly, the large-hearted regal creature with limitless
courage, secretive habits, and a solitary nature was no more
dangerous than she was. But when abused or hungry, anything could
happen.

Tigers, Predator and Assassin, were still out there somewhere.

And it was nearing feeding time. Searching for food consumed much
of the tigers’ lives, and they were willing to work hard and even kill
for meals. She rubbed her forehead. Each tiger needed fifteen to
twenty pounds of food per day. She leaned against a turned over
cotton-candy wagon, breathing hard and trying to gather her wits.
“We can’t just run crazily. I need to think.”

Hugh shook his head. “No time. Action is our best bet of

slowing down the stampede and capturing as many animals as we can
before dark. We can’t let animal control get into the act and start
shooting darts and maybe even bullets at innocent animals. ”

He was right.
“The tree leopard will be even more dangerous after the sun

goes down,” he said. “We need to find him and the two Bengals
ASAP.

She glared at him. “You’re telling me what I already know, so

I assume you have a brilliant suggestion.”

“You decide whether it has merit. One of us morphs and herds

the animals back to their cages with intimidation. While the most
experienced, you, encourages them back to their cages.”

“You want to morph into a werewolf again and risk being

seen?” She couldn’t keep her voice from rising. “That’s a dumb plan.
The authorities still aren’t sure if the women and girls in the
community were killed by a werewolf, vampire, or tiger. All they
need is a glimpse of a werewolf, Hugh, and they’ll use you for target
practice.

****

Tigra fought her instinct to hug Hugh for offering up himself

for the benefit of the circus and the community. “Setting yourself up
to be a dead hero is useless.”

He stared at her for several heartbeats. “All right. I guess

you’re right.”

She gave a sigh of relief.
She thought they were at an impasse but rather than give up

and admit defeat, he gathered all the unhurt circus people and carneys
and formed a posse. The elephant trainers were the first to get all their
charges back and staked down.

Hugh was good at organizing and by midnight they had

rounded up all the animals except the tree leopard and the two tigers.

“The cats are good trackers and may have headed for the

caves,” Hugh said.

Skully came up behind Tigra and put his arm possessively on

her shoulder. Her skin crawled, but she was too exhausted to shake
him off.

“Hugh’s right, Tigra. I saw your cats heading for the hills.

Want me help round them up?”

She needed help, but not from Skully. He was high on her list

of suspects. “Thanks, Skully, but Hugh and I are trained to handle the
cats.”

Suddenly Skully grabbed her and kissed her hard and

possessively.

She struggled and stepped back. “What the hell is that about

Skully?”

“For luck.”
“Thanks. But keep your hands and mouth off of me. I don’t

want to have to tell you again. Got it?”

“That’s one of the things I like about you, Tigra. You’ve got

fire.”

She sent him a dirty look and strode away, forging a path

through an arcade that looked like it had been used for the running of
the bulls. Hugh followed her. She appreciated that Hugh hadn’t
interfered by playing the macho, testosterone game men sometimes
played. The sparks in his darkened gray eyes suggested he didn’t like
Skully kissing her any more than she did. But the fact he let her
handle it showed a certain confidence and control that appealed to
her.

She switched her thoughts away from her assistant and

collided with a more dangerous worry. “It isn’t just animal control
I’m worried about. This disaster has been on the news, alerting
hunters. Hunters want tigers for their pelts, penis, and other body
parts. And they don’t care that they belong to the circus. They’ll
assume anything running loose is fair game.”

“You’re right. We’d better find our cats before they do. Let’s

head out.”

“We can’t charge into such a dangerous undertaking

unprepared. I must stop by my caravan and pick up the items we
might need.” She stuck her hand into her pocket. The note! A creepy
sensation slid down her spine. She waited until she got inside the

safety of her caravan and switched on the bright light over the
breakfast bar to read it.

TIGRA, I KNOW WHAT YOU AND HUGH DID.
NOW YOU BOTH WILL DIE.
She fought a shiver as she handed the note to Hugh.

****

As curious as Hugh was about the note, he didn’t read it right

away. He was still thinking about the kiss Skully planted on Tigra.
Was there were more between Skully and Tigra than she’d admitted?
A sharp pain shot straight to his heart. The thought of another man
kissing her, and maybe making love to her brought forth excruciating
images and the start of a headache. He curled his hand into a fist, but
rather than slam it against the nearest wall, he jammed it into his
pocket. She’s not mine and I have no rights to her. But dammit, she’s
my breath, my passion…. How did I let myself fall for her? I dare not
even think of a future with Tigra. Besides, right now I have a job to
do.

He glanced down at the note then met Tigra’s veiled gaze. “I

won’t let anything happen to you,” he said.

She lifted her chin. “I’m not worried. Whoever wrote that note

was too much of a coward to even sign it. And we have a more
eminent problem to handle. Loose hungry cats.”

As they gathered the items they needed, Hugh said, “Maybe

it’s just because I don’t like the guy, but Skully is the first name that
comes to mind when I think of the possible author of the note.”

He’d hoped she’d agree. She said, “I have to stop by the

equipment shed and get ropes and nets.”

He let the subject drop. Right now there were two dangerous

Bengals and a tree leopard running loose and hungry enough to attack
the first unsuspecting prey they spotted. To protect the community,
they’d capture the tigers and leopard first, then seek out and deal with
the note-writing demon who wanted them dead.

Chapter Eighteen

Skull nodded toward Madam Mystic’s collapsed pile of poles

and canvas. “The boss sent me here to re-erect your tent, Magpie, and
get you back in business.”

Struggling with a pole and sweating, she glared at him. “I

don’t want or need your help, Skully, so leave me the hell alone.”

Coleman won’t like it if you refuse my help. He wants to get

things back to normal ASAP.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why would he send you?”
“He doesn’t know about the bad blood between us and besides

all the available roustabouts are busy on other larger projects.”

With a wary look in her eyes, she shrugged. “Okay, if the boss

ordered you to do it, help with this pole.”

“Just get out of the way.” He met her gaze, and lowered his

voice, sending her his tonal message of malice. “I wouldn’t want you
to get hurt. Getting in the way of a man with the strength of Hercules
and the speed of lightning could be dangerous.”

Glaring, she stepped back, grabbed a sawdust rake, and began

raking up the spilled incense and dislodged rubber spaghetti snakes
from the floor with a vengeance. Then carefully, she picked up her
crystal ball. Next, one at a time, she gathered up the three skulls from
the floor, re-inserted the plastic snakes and arranged the skulls among
some unlit candles on the velvet cover.

They worked quickly, and within thirty minutes she’d finished

straightening and he had the main poles and support braces in place.
He forced his most charming smile. “In spite of our differences, you’ll
have to admit we work well together. Your little flimflam set-up looks
just like new.”

The ebony-faced Amazon darted a venomous sidelong glance

at him.

He widened his smile. “Now it’s time for payback. The boss

wants you to lend the woman’s touch to putting my caravan back in
order.”

She folded muscular arms across her massive boobs. “That

doesn’t sound right.”

“Sounds fair to me. Tit for tat. Want me to tell the boss you

refused to do your part in the clean up? Everyone else in our

commune is pulling together, like a family should, putting aside their
differences in emergencies.”

Her squinted eyes told him she wasn’t totally buying his sales

job and was on guard.

“How is Blacky?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.
“He’s fine. A little ruffled.”
When they got to his caravan, she said, “I don’t see any

damage.”

“It’s all inside.” He had set the stage earlier, doing minor

damage to the interior in order to put her at ease. “My bed fell from
its storage cabinet in the wall and I need someone to tighten the
interlocking screw while I hold it up in place. It’s a two person job. It
won’t take long.”

He bowed and gestured for her to enter first. She shook her

head. “No. You go first. And we’ll leave the door open.” Tension
radiated from her as though she was ready for anything—he chuckled
to himself—anything except a cloth pre-soaked in chloroform. He
grabbed it from its container and in two giant steps he circled behind
her and covered her nose and mouth.

She struggled against his vampire strength and unrelenting

hold only a few seconds before going limp, like a wet sack of manure.

Humming, he stuffed her Amazon bulk into a huge tent bag.

Not daring to wait for darkness, he took the bag to the rear of the
circus grounds, planning to toss it over the fence. But the corner of the
fence was mangled and flattened. It looked like an elephant had
rushed into it and then trampled it with great force. He dragged the
bag across the downed chain link fence and headed through the hills
toward the closest cave. He yanked the bag over stones—unconcerned
about the bruises the woman might be sustaining.

When he reached the cave, he roughly dumped her limp

Amazon’s body from the bag onto the stone floor. He hummed again
as he bound and gagged her. Now he had his lure. And at the right
time, he would use it to bring Tigra to him.

****

Tigra, with heart and pulse pounding, sensed trouble ahead.

Carrying their gear and wearing silent moccasins, she and Hugh
headed through the hills bathed in patches of the soft dwindling
twilight. In the distance, they saw a group of scuzzy-looking armed

hunters enter the hilly wilds. Tigra frowned and gestured with her
head. Hugh nodded. Tension tightened her nerves another notch. A
bunch of hopped up hunters with rifles was all they needed to
heighten the risk. Hugh darted a look directly at her with a question in
his wary gray eyes.

“I’m okay,” she mouthed and made an okay sign with her

fingers.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A cat attack could

happen as silently and as suddenly as a bolt of lightning. She’d seen a
tiger tear flesh from a cow carcass. And had seen what even her
drugged, gentle tiger, Candy, had done to poor Rolo.

Hugh touched his nose and wriggled it. She nodded, picking

up the scent of a cat as well. As they stalked the cat through shifting
shadows, she sensed it stalking them with its equally strong sense of
smell. Her nerve endings tightened in readiness. Tigers allow no
margin of error. And these tigers had been loose long enough to be
ravenously hungry. When forced, tigers ate toads, grass and wild
berries but not as long as there was the scent of meat in the area. And
she and Hugh were fresh meat. Tension radiated from her pores and
she felt the strain radiating from Hugh as well. Stress could cause
them to morph. She felt her untamed spirit churning inside,
threatening to take over.

She met Hugh’s gaze and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
He closed his fist and shook it, as if to let her know he was

hanging on.

She heard the rustle of brush and, with her sharp eyes, she

searched the shadowy foliage. She took a deep breath; it failed to
relax her. Tigers avoided large and formidable foes. And the chance
of being attacked by both of the missing cats at once was small.
Tigers hunted alone. When attacked—and she knew an attack was
eminent—would she and Hugh be large enough and formidable
enough to capture even one hungry cat? As they passed under a wild
elm, she looked up; the scent of the leopard had grown stronger. The
temperature in her body rose higher, threatening change. Morphing
was risky due to the armed hunters in the area, and retaining their
human forms was an equal challenge because of the hungry cat’s
claws and teeth.

She saw a patch of fleeting orange slinking through the brush

and suffered a moment of hope mingled with dread.

She motioned to Hugh to get the net ready and made a rotating

gesture, alerting him she planned to circle behind the cat and force
him back, hopefully into Hugh’s net.

She drew her whip from her backpack and moved silently. The

snap of the whip should send the beast toward Hugh and into the net.

The individual markings above the eyes warned her that the

cat she now faced was Predator. His eyes were glazed as though
frightened—and a scared animal was unpredictable. Dread washed
over her as the cat crouched low as if about to attack.

She had to stop him from leaping. She straightened her stance

and snapped the whip with a loud crack. Predator, a very large male,
slashed out at her with his gigantic paws. She cracked the whip again,
counting on him to identify her by her unique scent. They had
confronted each other many times. And she had fed him and lain with
him.

He growled, waved his tail, and then swiftly stalked away,

belly low to the ground, not ready to give up his free-roaming
nomadic life. If Hugh used his newly acquired skills successfully,
Predator would learn his freedom was short lived and he must be
returned to his life of co-existing with humans. She sighed in relief as
he headed toward Hugh and his net.

Okay, Hugh, don’t let me down.
When she returned to the area where she’d left Hugh, he was

smiling. Predator had been netted and caged.

“With the danger to our cats from hunters in the hills,” she

whispered, “we’d better return Predator to the circus menagerie
holding cage before going after Assassin and Leo the tree leopard.”

Hugh nodded and with his amazing strength he began pulling

the cage toward the circus grounds. She got behind and pushed,
easing the wheels over the ruts and rocky areas.

Once Predator had been fed, watered, and returned to his

circus home, they headed for the hills again, knowing now that
darkness had fallen and only a slender new moon lighted their way,
the danger had quad-tripled.

Assassin’s scent was strong. He was the newest and the least

co-operative of the cats and catching him would be trickier than
catching Predator.

Suddenly, and only for an instant, she saw the glow of cat eyes

in the tangled brush. Was it Assassin or the leopard? In the wilds, cats

usually worked alone, but these two cats had worked together in the
circus. She looked up again into the tree they were now passing
under. What if—?

Her blood turned icy and a chill slipped down her back when

she heard the growl. As suddenly as a bolt of lightning, the leopard
landed on Tigra. The huge male leopard had the edge of weight and
surprise and knocked her down. Its claws sank into her flesh. As she
fought, she began to morph. The process seemed to be weakening her.
Rather than give in to her vulnerability, she struggled with all of her
might, and by some miracle she kept the leopard’s sharp teeth from
sinking into her throat. With both hands occupied, she couldn’t get to
her dart gun.

She heard Hugh growl. Then, like the alpha male he was, he

lifted the cat off of her. Like a flash, the leopard whipped around and
turned all of his venom on Hugh. Its cat call was chilling. She grabbed
her dart gun and aimed for the leopard. As the morphed Hugh and tree
cat fought, Hugh kept getting in the way. That’s all I need is to
accidentally shoot him.

She had to remain calm and wait for her chance.
Tigra’s heart stopped when over the wolf and leopard growl

she heard a cat growl. She jerked her head and spied a patch of
fleeting orange slinking through the brush. Even if she hadn’t known
before, the markings above the glazed eyes verified the cat crouched
low in an attack stance was the scared and hungry cat known as
Assassin. She aimed her tranquilizer dart gun at him, but he was on
her before she could get off the shot.

Hugh, now a werewolf, turned and threw the leopard into the

cat, Assassin. Now both animals were on top of her fighting each
other, their claws digging into her in the process. Hugh yanked the
huge males off of her like they were kittens.

They turned on him and she saw the bloody scratches and

blood flowing down his limbs and matting in his body hair. She aimed
her dart gun at Assassin, the most dangerous, and pulled the trigger.
Assassin’s body jerked. He pawed at the dart then made a final
attempt to slash at it as he dropped to the ground. She aimed at Leo
and took him down too.

She had an urge to rush to Hugh. She froze at the sound of

voices drawing nearer. She glanced at Hugh. Blood dripped from his

claws and teeth. In his hairy form, he even terrified her. Dear, God,
don’t let the hunters happen upon us now.

A bullet zinged passed her head.

Chapter Nineteen

“Help me secure the cats and get them to shelter,” Tigra

mouthed.

Hugh nodded and silently helped her lift the unconscious cats

into the cages. After they rolled the pens inside the nearest cave and
verified they hadn’t been followed, they turned on the heavy duty
flashlight and stripped off enough clothing to treat one another’s
scratches and gashes. Time was of the essence. Animal scratches and
bites carried deadly bacteria. As she smoothed antibiotic salve from
her first aid kit on his hair-encircled injuries, Hugh began reverse
morphing. The frightening jerky spasms lasted for several minutes.
Tigra wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him, but from her
own shifting experiences, she knew the best thing to do was let him
ride it out. When he’d completed his twitching and the muscle
contractions stopped, he drew her into his warm, comforting arms.
“Did the cats hurt you?” He gently trailed a finger over her face and
neck.

She winced. Even his light touch sent pain through her. “The

scratches will heal. I’m just glad we’re alive and the cats are safe. It
could’ve ended differently.” She didn’t fail to notice, as he came out
of his painful spasms, his first thoughts were of her.

In the shadowy light, he was looking at her lips.
With effort, she stepped back. “Thanks for saving me, Hugh.”
Hugh drew her back into his arms. “It was a joint effort. I

know what it cost you to shoot darts into the cats you love.”

She looked up and met his gaze. Her heartbeat accelerated.

“We’d better get dressed. Even though you’re morphed and no longer
showing signs of lycanthropy, I don’t want to deal with the hunters or
animal control guys.” She crossed her fingers. “Once we have all of
the animals safely back in their menagerie maybe the outsiders will
leave the area before someone gets hurt.”

He nodded but rather than release her, Hugh stroked her hair

and looked into her eyes. As if hypnotized, she entwined her arms
around his neck and drew him closer. His heat flowed into her like the
steam from the pools the night she felt hot, wet, and wild. She lifted
her head, offering what she sensed he wanted…what she wanted.

He let out an agonized groan, then bent and captured her lips

in a gentle taking. The tip of his tongue traced her lower lip with
maddening slowness, sending sensations racing through her. She
moaned, and he covered her mouth again. She tasted his feral, aroused
flavor, like an alpha after a triumph.

Their bodies connected as he kissed her hard and hot, and

even though it wasn’t wise, her body reacted with aching, pulsing
desire. Hugh's feral fire liquefied her limbs until she could only cling
to him. His hands caressed her back, catapulting her into a world of
warm, delicious madness. She craved to experience his wolfish
passion and release her tiger wildness.

Suddenly Hugh’s shoulders stiffened. He gently untangled her

arms from his neck. “Like you said, we should get the animals back
for the safety of the public and the circus.”

Although she had said that earlier and it was the wise thing to

do, she felt like strangling him. “You’re the most frustrating man I’ve
ever met.” She sent him a sly smile. “And also the hero who just
saved my life. Great job, Hugh.”

****

Hugh had dealt with loneliness his whole life, but this was a

new kind. It was the kind that made him ache to reach out and grab
onto the idea that maybe he could have a life with Tigra. Then as he
indulged in the heat of the moment reality crashed in on him. Caring
deeply wasn’t enough when the problems keeping them apart were
overwhelming duality and different goals. It jabbed at his heart to stop
kissing her, but the ramifications of his curse got in the way. He’d
believed if he ever got the opportunity to save this woman he’d come
to love, the affliction would disappear like a puff of smoke and the
curse would end as it had for his brother Damon and his wife Angela.
Then magically he could share a life like theirs with the woman of his
dreams. But he’d saved her several times without the hoped for
results.

He raked his hand through his hair. Maybe the remedy of

sacrificing himself for Tigra had failed because her love for him
wasn’t strong enough. Or because they’d saved each other.

Whatever the explanation, maybe he should give up his dream

of escaping the curse and having a normal life. But could he do that?
In a very short time Tigra had become a part of him. She was the

backbone of the circus and he wanted her to be the backbone of his
life. His future would implode if anything happened to her

****

Tigra sighed in relief after they secured the wild ones in the

circus’s larger menagerie cages. After they fed, watered, and treated
the animals’ wounds, they headed for her caravan. Maybe now they
could get back to what they had started in the cave.

With a hopeful heart, she switched on the lights and saw a

second note propped up next to a napkin holder on the counter. Who
put it there? No one but the boss had keys to her place. She tore open
the envelope.

It is a matter of life and death that I talk with you alone within

the hour. The future of the circus and many lives depend upon your
immediate response. I’ll wait for you in the fun house near the slide of
terror.

Tigra skipped down to the signature—Madam Mystic’s name

was scrawled at the bottom. Tigra wasn’t sure if it was the fortune
teller’s signature, but she didn’t question the Amazon-sized bloody
fingerprint next to it. Did the blood mean the mystic was hurt? She
couldn’t chance it. Setting aside her plans, Tigra shoved the note into
her pocket.

“Something important?” Hugh asked, looking concerned.
“Madam Mystic wants to talk to me alone. I don’t know how

long I’ll be.”

“I’ll go with you.”
Tigra rubbed the bridge of her nose to fight off a headache.

“She stressed, for the future of the Circus, I must come alone.”

Tigra grabbed up her still packed emergency bag, looped her

arm in his, and walked him out the door. She relocked her caravan
door and followed him down the steps.

He paused at the bottom. “If you find her emergency is

something I can help with don’t hesitate to call.” He turned toward his
caravan, and then paused. “I need to talk to you about something. Can
we get together later?”

She shrugged. She wanted that, too, but not necessarily to talk.

“If it’s not too late, I could come by your place.”

****

Tigra used the skeleton key to let herself into the sound-proof

fun house and walked into a world of shadowy weird mirrors and ax-

wielding monsters. The place had closed for the night and the dim
security lights heightened the eerie atmosphere. Suddenly the
equipment motors started up and mirrors rotated and changed as she
moved through the spine-chilling maze. The fun house, or house of
horrors as she called it, had been designed to rebound a spooky echo.
Even her breath echoed back at her as though she were in a wind
tunnel. Crept music, accompanied by an out-of-tune violin screeched
in the background. She passed grotesque puppets and hideous
deformed mechanical mannequins with groping arms.

Her nostrils twitched at the odd mustiness in the air. She took

a shallow breath and stiffened her spine. She knew her way through
the tangled assortment of popping up ghosts and ghouls and wasn’t
about to allow them or the sense of a presence hovering nearby to
frighten her. It was the running equipment that bothered her. It was
always shut off for the night. Who turned it on and why? Madam
Mystic wouldn’t have any reason to fool with the electronics.

The thirty-foot slide of terror was just around the next curve.
“Lost, Tigra?”
It was Skully’s deep haunting voice behind her. She pressed

her lips tight to hold back the scream tearing at her throat. She
swallowed her fear enough to turn and face him.

At first, his features were barely visible in the dimness and

shadows. Then she made out the black cape with the red lining and
the elongated pointy teeth. “You! You’re the vampire. You sent the
note. Where is Madam Mystic?”

He eased closer, bringing a chilly breeze with him. “I’ll take

you to her.”

Fighting his mesmerizing tone, Tigra reached into her bag.

Her heart pounded as she clutched the stake and locked her gaze on
him.

He lunged and, with icy hands, grabbed the weapon from her

and threw it on the ground. She tried to lift a knee into his groin, but
he thrust his thigh between hers and blocked her attempt. She twisted
and thrashed against him, but he held her so close her movements
were ineffectual. Their breathing beat the air like the wings of warring
bats. He glared down at her with piercing red eyes. She envisioned
fire shooting from his glowing eyeballs. Maybe that came next.
“We’ve been co-workers and friends for five years now.” They’d

never really been friends, but she had to play him as he was playing
her.

She attempted to morph, willing it with all of her might. Why

can’t I shift?

Charges of electric anger shot through her. She wanted to

scream and attack this demon with her teeth and claws. She fought to
control the tremors betraying her terror.

Her wary gaze traveled over the strong, sharply cut lines of his

jaw, along lips that held a hint of cruelty in their stillness. Sparks
dropped from the corners of his mouth. His nose was straight and
even, the cheekbones high and hard, hollowed underneath with
shadows. The slicked-back hair gave his features a more angular
appearance. His lustful, piercing red-eyed gaze sent spikes of fear
prickling down her back and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes
glowed like the Devil’s.

“Turn around and face the wall!” he said in his thick

Hungarian accent.

She knew better than to turn her back on him, yet she seemed

compelled to do his bidding. He clamped a pungent rag over her face.
She fought the chloroform soaked cloth while willing herself to
morph. Darkness was closing over her. Oh, God, I’m a dead woman.

No! I must fight this. But how?

Chapter Twenty

Tigra blinked her eyes open and tried to focus as she tumbled

painfully from a burlap bag onto a stony cave floor. The dimly lit
lantern sitting on an indentation in the wall illuminated Skully’s
menacing stare. Holding a gleaming knife between his elongated
teeth, he yanked her to her feet. “Good, you’re awake,” he growled.
“You can walk the rest of the way.” He grabbed the lantern and
roughly pushed Tigra ahead of him into the dank cave.

Her mind spun, foggy and confused. A wave of anxiety

flooded her. “Where are we going?”

He laughed nastily. “To hell,” he said with a smirk that was

especially grotesque in the glow of the lantern.

Shifting the knife to the small of her back, Skully shoved her

forward again, deeper into the tunnel. “You made my earthly journey
as smooth as free flowing blood by not believing it could be me, and
made it easier to get away with the thefts and my passionate taking of
meaningless lives. All was going well until you stuck your pretty
slender nose into my affairs. By stealing my golden arrowhead and
returning it to the museum, you’ve brought things to a head, upped
my timetable, and forced my hand.”

She glanced back at him. “So you admit being the vampire

thief?” It was incredulous that death could cast its evil shadow in a
circus meant only to bring happiness.

“You’ve known it on some level all along,” he said. “I’ve felt

your awareness…your tentative fear.”

Did I know? “Where is Madam Mystic and what does she

have to do with all of this?” Dear God, Skully’d been killing innocent
women along the circus traveling circuit for years and getting away
with it. And the day will end with my death if I don’t do something.

I mustn’t think too far ahead, plan only moment by moment,

and watch for an opportunity to counter-attack. She sucked in a
breath to fight the icy panic that gripped her and threatened to
undermine her determination and defiant march into the unknown.

She whirled and faced him. His piercing, calculating eyes

glowed with an inner fiery evil, as though he were the Devil himself.

“Why couldn’t you let destiny takes its course?” he said in a

low, chilling tone. His fangs glinted in the lantern light. “If you and

your muscle-bound assistant hadn’t dug around and stuck your noses
in my business, no one would have ever suspected a star aerialist of
being a thief and a pleasure monger.”

A swift surge of anger swept over her. “The words you’re

skirting around are ‘vampire and violent serial killer’. Does your
attempt to dress up the words mean even you can’t face what you
are?”

His slow sneer revealed he enjoyed making her squirm. “It’s

not that simplistic. I view my seduction of women as giving pleasure.
It is unfortunate they have to die. But you must appreciate they die
happy. As will you…”

She closed her eyes and struggled again to morph. Somehow

he must be blocking the process. Damn him. The most insidious
characteristic of a vampire is his ability to hypnotize his victims and
create a telepathic bond. I won’t let his transfixing gaze capture my
soul. I won’t give my full cooperation and surrender freely and fully
to this fiend’s formidable dark, hellish gift. She pressed her lids
tighter together. I won’t. I won’t. Please, God, help me.

Skully slapped her face. “Look at me!”
Of their own accord, her eyes flew open.
Skully smiled, revealing glinting dagger-teeth of both animal

and devil.

Tigra rubbed her stinging cheek. “What are you going to do

with me?”

He shoved her forward again and nudged her to move faster

with the tip of the knife. “My future plans for you aren’t yet pertinent.
We were talking about your interference. Until you started meddling,
I wasn’t ever really under serious suspicion. The police were too busy
watching Hugh and checking on his brother to show more than a
cursory interest in me.”

She ached to turn around and face the wily demon again. I

have to distract him. “What’s all the stealing about? You make good
money as an aerialist, yet apparently you’ve been stealing valuables in
every town we hit? How much money does one man need?”

“I don’t know about one man, but two vampires who wish to

live like royalty and plan to live many more lifetimes, the amount
required will be gargantuan.”

Hearing him admit what she already knew continued to stun

her while the new information sent additional waves of terror through
her. “There are two of you?” She trembled at the thought.

“There will be two before sun up.”
Saints preserve me. Did he have a cohort in crime? Was he

nearby? How will I find the strength and wisdom to fight two
monsters?

I have to keep him talking. She glanced back and noticed his

skin had turned halblar, death blue or ha’foir, corpse blue. She took
shallow breaths, trying not to inhale the unmistakable reek of decay.
How had he concealed the evil part of himself for so many years?
Probably the same way she hid her duality—remaining an enigma
required privacy, secrecy, and security. “Are we almost to Madam
Mystic?” Lord, let her still be alive.

He laughed hollowly. “Oh yes, I almost forgot about her.

She’s just ahead. Let’s go put her out of her misery,” he said in a
deceptively merciful tone.

****

Hugh paced in front of Tigra’s dark caravan, her words

repeating in his mind. “If it’s not too late, I could come by your
place.” But over an hour and a half had passed and she hadn’t shown
up and she wasn’t home. She hadn’t said where she was going, only
that she was meeting Madam Mystic. But Madam Mystic’s place was
dark as well. His neck prickled. He sensed trouble. Jerry, one of the
little men clowns waddled by holding hands with a monkey. He’d
never seen Jerry without the monkey. “Thanks for replacing the ball
cock on my toilet,” Jerry said.

“Anytime. It’s part of my roustabout duties.” He let out a gust

of air. “You haven’t seen Tigra, have you?”

“Matter of fact, I have. About an hour ago, after my card game

with the guys, I saw her unlock the fun house and slip inside. It was
sort of weird; the place is closed for the night.”

“An hour ago? She could be hurt inside. Thanks, Jerry,” he

said over his shoulder.

“She’s probably all right,” Jerry called. “I saw Skully go into

the place about fifteen minutes before she did.”

Hugh froze in his tracks.
“I heard the motors come on,” Jerry said. “They’re probably

checking the equipment for Lester.”

Hugh knew Lester ran the fun house. Calling Tigra or Skully

didn’t make sense. If the equipment wasn’t working right, why hadn’t
they called him or one of the other roustabouts? Tigra ran the office
so there was the outside chance she was needed to order equipment,
but Skully was an aerialist, not a handyman. And what about her
meeting with Madam Mystic? Besides, after the kiss Skully planted
on her, Hugh didn’t want him anywhere near Tigra. “Thanks, Jerry.”
Hugh took off running, heading for the fun house.

It took only seconds to pick the outdated lock. Edgy, he

slipped inside the ghoul house and called Tigra’s name. His panicky
voice echoed back at him. Crazed and running out of control, he
searched the place. His heart almost stopped beating when he spied
the metal stake on the floor by the slide of terror. She was definitely
in trouble. And he didn’t know where she was.

He shoved the stake into his tool belt, sat down on the slide

steps, and put his head into his hands. Okay, Skully wouldn’t take her
to his caravan. The most logical place was one of the caves. But
which one? His gut wrenched and his mind exploded with an emotion
so crushing, so devastating, it was beyond anything he’d ever felt
before. Dear God, let her still be alive.

****

Struggling to stay calm and reliable, Hugh re-locked the Fun

House entry door. Then panic gripped him again and he ran through
the darkened arcade like a madman, his stomach in knots. Leaping
turnstiles, he left the circus grounds and headed for the hills. He’d
been right about Tigra from the beginning. She was all heart and her
concern for Madam Mystic had thrust her into the hands of a blood-
thirsty vampire. Hugh ran faster. He’d been a fool not to let her know
he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. Without Tigra, he’d
be a shell of a man going through the motions, with no zest for life.
He had to save her from a monstrous death. And ironically, saving her
would save him.

He entered the wooded shadowy silence, moving swiftly

through the soft muted colors of the night until he reached foliage
thick and tangled enough to conceal him while he morphed. Once he
shifted, he moved deeper into the shadows. The moon reflected on an
aluminum gum wrapper. The trampled and crushed moss it rested on
indicated more than one person had recently passed this way. Please,

Lord, don’t let me run into any hunters or someone from animal
control.

An owl flew up, wildly flapping its wings as it deserted a

twisted mesquite. He jumped. Damn my drum tight nerves! His
fortifying breath drew in smells of earth, vegetation, and rotting
wood. He’d hoped to pick up Tigra’s feral scent and Skully’s musty
scent. By the stake he’d found in the fun house he was positive Skully
was the vampire.

With his lungs almost bursting with angst, he squinted into the

shadowy darkness, aware of every fluttering leaf, every bowing limb.
He hadn’t gone far when he caught the mingled scents of tiger and
mustiness. His already pounding heart quickened its pace and his
nerves grew tauter by the second. Instinct and the moaning wind
pushed him ahead faster. Light patches of fog floated in vaporous
layers about the tree trunks. Ahead were two huge granite boulders
and beyond that the series of caves.

Hugh locked in on the blended scents and followed them into

the shadowy mouth of the dark and menacing cave just ahead. Was
there was more than one entrance? The fact Skully was still free
indicated, as a vampire, he had a well-honed survival instinct and
probably a foolproof escape route. Right now, that didn’t matter as
much as getting Tigra away from him.

Edging forward more slowly now, he merged with the

shadowy, dank darkness. With his keen eyesight, he followed the
tunnel, keeping close to the stony wall. He froze at the sound of
Tigra’s and Skully’s voices ahead and spied the dim glint of a lantern.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tigra desperately wanted to run, but she had to wait and try to

save Madam Mystic…if she was still alive. The lantern Skully carried
stirred the eerie, demon-like shadows of the cave into a hellish
hurricane of turmoil. Finally, as they rounded the bend in the tunnel
she spied the mystic, nude, shivering, gagged, and trussed up like a
turkey. “What have you done to her?”

Skully smirked, his eyes tracking Tigra’s every movement,

revealing his raw predatory tendencies. “Nothing much, yet.” His
fangs glinted. “But now that you’re here, we can start the party. As
I’m sure you’re aware, there is a strong sexual aspect of vampirism.
Biting someone is a very intimate act. Compounded by the removal of
blood in a commingling of fluids, it is reminiscent of the sexual act
itself. Doesn’t that titillating thought make your thighs tingle?” He
winked at her. “The three of us are going to have a very good time.
When I arouse you ladies, your blood will pump hotter which adds to
the erotic allure and my enjoyment.”

Madam Mystic, her eyes wild and her face swollen, made a

muffled sound of protest.

With all the guts Tigra could muster, she stepped forward,

removed her thigh-length cardigan sweater and covered the trembling
fortune teller’s nudity.

“Very compassionate,” Skully said, sliding his hungry gaze

over her black lacy bra and firmly contained breasts.

“Let us go, Skully. Doing sexual acts against one’s will is an

inexcusable deviancy.”

“So? That’s what I’m about—taking pleasure whether offered

or not. And a taking against one’s will is part of the fun and
challenge. Unfortunately, sexual arousal generally kills the victim.
But in the end, no one complains.”

“That’s because they’re dead.” She wanted to add you ass, but

thought it wise to skip the name calling.

“Ah, but their last breath is taken in ecstasy.”
“Says you. Their body spasms are no doubt from great pain.”
He met her gaze with glowing red eyes. “Why do you persist

in hashing out this bitingly dark subject when we could be having a
wild time?”

His Hungarian accent, although somewhat charismatic and

erotic, grated on her nerves. She gave him a sidelong glance, feeling
disgust clear to her toes. “How can you do such hell-spawn atrocities
to innocent women?”

“Lust for the flesh, desire for a savage revenge, a lust for

power, and the determination to spill blood of enemies and those who
try to stop me.” His smirk revealed dagger-like glinting ivory. “And
that includes you, my love.” To give us any chance at all to live
through this, I have to keep him talking. “Were you ever a religious
man in any of your lifetimes?”

“If I were, it would be blood under the bridge, my dear. Why

do you ask?”

“If possible, I’d like to touch your humanity.” Tigra fought to

hold her voice steady. “Deuteronomy 12:23 reads something like this:
To save your everlasting soul, be sure you do not eat the flesh or
drink the blood.”

“The wording is not exact, my dear. But I comprehend where

you’re going with it. However, your attempt at inducing guilt is
futile.” He shook his head. “You are such an innocent, using infantile
nonsense against me. Don’t you get it? I am an opponent of your deity
and I use blood as revenge against God and mortality.”

Damn the soulless heathen! His answer tore at her

sensibilities, and she felt her nerves jerk, her body trembling, and
herself morphing. She fell to the stony floor and helplessly convulsed
and writhed out of control. It was as though she were spinning
through space, rotating and spiraling first in one direction, then
another. She felt Skully’s stunned gaze on her and met his wide eyes
as the muscles throughout her body began to throb, followed by
agonizing pain. Sweat trickled down her back. She raked her fingers
through a wild, thickening tiger-orange mane. Her eyes pooled with
tears as the attacks of pain came in waves, each surge sharper than the
last. A howl ripped itself from her throat.

Skully laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve captured myself a

tiger woman.”

Feral hatred charged through her. She gave a low growl, bared

her teeth, and rose slowly to a crouched position. Then she leapt on
him; blood-red dagger-claws bared and dug into icy flesh. She wanted
to reduce him to dust and draw the nothingness that once had been a
soul from him.

He twisted and threw her against the cave wall.
Skully whirled for the counter-attack, as, from the shadows,

Werewolf-Hugh leapt and landed on his back. Hugh ripped off
Skully’s cape with the red lining, thrust it to the ground, and then
attacked full throttle. Tigra felt like cheering as she watched the claws
and fangs of her beloved alpha wolf sink into Skully’s flesh. But the
vampire held his own—to unlock the grip on his flesh, the lithe,
aerialist vampire used the same kind of twists, skilled somersaults,
and hand clutches he used nightly in his act.

Growling, her Alpha wolf circled for another attack. Quick as

lightning, he charged Skully and clamped his fangs on his throat. The
wolf and vampire tore and clawed at one another’s flesh, both
drawing blood and inflicting pain, but neither gaining the advantage.

Tigra’s heart pounded. With two equally determined and

skilled males with super strength, either could come out the victor. To
save Madam Mystic’s life and their lives, she couldn’t let her beloved
werewolf fight this battle alone. The wolf and vampire parted and
crouched, ready to charge each other again. Their full concentration
was fixed on their opponent.

Tigra used the moment of distraction to grab the nearby

lantern by the handle and swing it into Skully’s face. He shouted in
pain. As the glass broke, kerosene splashed over him, and his hair
caught on fire. He slapped at the flames. Flames dropped to his black
shirt and it caught fire. He dropped and rolled, cursing.

She’d read that perhaps a vampire could be destroyed by fire.

Her heart filled with hope and then he dashed it when he sprang to his
feet and ran deeper into the tunnel, his screams echoing through the
darkness.

Would he burn to ashes and fall somewhere ahead in the

darkness?

Tigra wanted to race to Hugh and tend his wounds, but he

whirled, uttered a low guttural sound, and raced after Skully.

“No!” she called. She started after Hugh.
Madam Mystic made a muffled, grunting cry.
Tigra stopped mid-step and glanced into the darkness, feeling

pulled between the two people who needed her. She glanced at
Madam Mystic again. At minimum, she had to set the dear medium
free. She rushed to the medium’s side, crouched, took the gag from
her mouth, and untied her.

“Good thinking about the lantern, Tigra,” Madam Mystic said

in a hoarse voice. “And thank you. I thought we were all goners. Our
predicament is my fault for being a coward.”

“Forget fault.” Tigra helped the mystic to her feet. The nude,

bruised, and abused fortune teller, wearing only Tigra’s inadequate
cardigan sweater had shown no shock that the three of them,
including the vampire were dual beings. God only knew what other
secrets she’d learned from her crystal ball. “Can you get back to the
circus on your own? I need to find Hugh and help him take down that
demon.”

“You two are amazing, sacrificing yourselves for each other.

But Hugh would want you to come with me to safety. Skully is a
sneaky devil who’s lived many lives. Best you leave him to your feral
friend.”

“I can’t leave Hugh. Abandoning him would be like forsaking

my heart.”

“My crystal ball foretold your werewolf was born with the

power to slay a vampire. But it warned that desire could kill your
alpha hero.”

Tigra laughed without humor. “We’ve already doused

ourselves in the pool of desire. Your warning only intensifies my
desperation to find him. You can help best by scooting out of here to
the safety of the circus grounds.” She stripped a small, broken, dry
tree branch and touched it to the still burning broken lantern. “You
can use this torch to light your way. Now go. Just follow the walls.”
She gave the mystic a gentle push. Then she whirled and headed
deeper into the bowels of the cave in search of her Alpha wolf.

Alert and running, she scanned the darkness with her keen

tiger eyesight. Her heart drummed so hard she could scarcely breathe.
Every fiber of her wanted to run in the opposite direction. I will do
this and I’ll survive, she repeated to herself in a mantra. She had to
save Hugh or she would never be the same. Additionally, if she didn’t
succeed, the circus would never be the same either.

She brought forth a cherished image of the man she'd come to

love. She’d known the dream of them together after this was over was
impossible. She had to be satisfied with saving him. "Hugh," she
mouthed silently into the emptiness. She wished she had her rosary
with the silver cross Grandy had given to her to keep her safe and

ward off evil. She had only her willingness, if absolutely necessary, to
die for the man she loved.

The irony of racing into the inky passages of hell where a

vampire crouched waiting in the shadows, when all she wanted to do
was run away, terrified her as much as the bitter taste of her own fear.
The chill of the cave and eerie silence closed around her. Icy sweat
dripped from her face. A shaft of icy fear sliced through her bone
deep. Just ahead a rock skittered into her path. Tigra froze, her
straining gaze scanning ahead. Her neck prickled. Nothing moved.
Dank, icy air lay still around her, oppressive, unsafe. The taste, smell,
and feel of terror pressed deeper into her nerve-endings. She listened
intently, afraid to even breathe, her heart lunging in her chest. She
picked up a stake-shaped rock. Okay, Skully, I'm ready for you. He
was more dangerous than a rattler, but he was only one vampire. What
am I thinking—he’s a vampire! I’ll never get a better chance to
escape. But I can’t leave without Hugh.

She moved forward again, more slowly. Her heart pounded in

quaking thuds. She held back a cough as she inhaled mustiness. Was
Skully waiting just ahead?

Damn you, Skully. Let's get this show on the road. Precious

minutes ticked by. Where was he? Where was Hugh?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hugh perked his alpha ears, listening, as his nerves jumped

under his skin. He couldn’t let Skully escape. Thank God Tigra was
safe. If necessary, he could die happy knowing she and Madam
Mystic were out of harm’s way. Skully had already killed an
unknown number of innocent people. Hugh’s heart thundered in his
ears. He drew up an image of Tigra in her little strips of fake fur. The
memory of their last kiss twisted his heart. In that moment, he had
forgotten everything but how much he wanted her—the texture of her
lips as familiar as his own, and the taste of her rushing through him
with the force of a descending roller coaster, the downward thrust
threatening to sweep him away on plunging passion.

Since joining the circus and meeting Tigra he’d learned he

didn’t need the perfect, tidy package of life to be happy, and he no
longer cared about finding the ideal homemaker or the problem
presented by their mixed species. If he ever got the chance, he’d work
with her to solve the species problem and they would have the rest of
their lives to love and make love. His thoughts forced heat to pool low
in his belly. Dammit. Tension charged his nerve endings. If...no, when
he had his fiery-haired, hot blooded Tigra in his arms again, there
would be no holding back. And she would be in his arms again.

Hugh wiped the sweat from his brow with his hairy arm.

There were many places for Skully to lie in waiting and spring out at
him. The tunnels ranged from six to twelve feet wide with eighteen to
twenty-four foot ceilings and twisted around in a tangled maze. There
could even be tunnels with dead ends where he’d be more vulnerable.
But so would Skully.

Something sharp dug into his right rear paw. He looked down

and, with his powerful eyesight, he recognized the white powder with
chunks of ivory pebbles under the soft pad of his foot. It was
crumbling human bones, the thin outer layer disintegrating into a
powdery dust. If he were attacked and died now, his bones would
appear mixed, half human, half beast. He didn’t dare close his
eyes…he had to remain ever alert…so he prayed with his eyes open.
Lord, when my time comes, let me die a man in every sense of the
word.

****

With effort, Tigra squelched a shiver. Show no fear! She

pressed tightly against the wall as she inched forward. Her heart
pounded in her ears like ancient war drums. The musty, mildew odor
of death grew stronger and almost gagged her. Why hadn’t she caught
up with Hugh? Had Skully killed him? No, God, no.

She heard a whoosh of air as a grasping hand shot out of the

darkness and fingers clamped around her throat. A white, vivid face
loomed out of the shadows.

“Did you think I’d left you?” Skully whispered. He squeezed

tighter, cutting off her air and making it impossible to clamp her sharp
tiger fangs on his juggler. She tightened her hold on her stake-shaped
stone. Struggling, she met his gaze. His eyes were red and glowing
like hot coals. Fighting queasiness from what she was about to do, she
jabbed him in the fiery eyes with the stony weapon. Blood and fire
spurted from the corners and he screamed in agony. As the sound
echoed through the tunnel, he loosened his hold and she whirled away
and crouched in readiness for the next attack.

“I didn’t want to take you by violent force, my little ferocious

tiger bitch,” he whispered in a curse-like tone as his gaze locked on
her throat. “I wanted to enjoy a slower dance with you, but once
again, you have forced my hand. I suggest you make it less painful for
you and more pleasant for both of us and give in.” His icy breath
feathered over her face. “I’m bigger, quicker, smarter and I always
win.”

His gaze intensified as though he were using his strongest

hypnotic power. God, don’t let me succumb to this monster.

Tigra heard a hollow thud, and Skully fell forward. With her

sharp eyesight she saw Hugh had a huge boulder in his clawed hand.
Skully shook his head as though to clear it and somersaulted to his
feet. The arch enemies pounded each other while trying to clamp their
fangs on one another’s necks. The power of their blows and the open
mouthed attempts to close their teeth on soft flesh guaranteed this
would be a bloody fight to the death.

Hugh shouted, “Get out of here, Tigra.”
“I won’t leave you!” She stepped closer to the warring feral

creatures of the night, but couldn’t get close enough to jab Skully
again with her stone. She stuffed the stone into her pocket and picked
up a bowling ball-sized boulder. Lifting it high over her head, she

aimed carefully and brought the boulder down with all of her might
toward Skully’s head.

The half animal, half men rolled and shifted positions. The

boulder missed Hugh’s temple by a fraction of an inch.

“Damn it, Tigra! Whose side are you on?”
Tigra’s stomach knotted. Her heart thundered. She could

scarcely breathe. Dear, God, I could have killed Hugh. I’m only
making things worse. When she turned to go, Skully reached out and
yanked her feet out from under her.

She screamed and fell to her knees. Skully grabbed a handful

of her hair close to the roots and yanked her between himself and
Hugh. He bit into her throat. She struggled. Warm blood slid down
from the concave of her throat into her cleavage.

“Let her go!” Hugh said, his voice hoarse.
“Never. She’s mine for all eternity.”
With an expression that revealed nothing, Hugh stared at the

blood trickling down her neck.

“Don’t give him the upper hand, Hugh,” she managed to

choke out. “You can’t save me. It’s—”

Unable to say more past the constriction, she tried to reach her

pocket where the stone waited to be put back into action. Skully’s icy
hold on her intensified, while his piercing eyes remained on Hugh, as
though calculating his next move.

Distracted, probably by the idea he had won, he loosened his

hold slightly…just enough for her to break loose.

When Skully tried to grab her again, Hugh tackled him. They

scuffed and Skully fell backwards against the stone wall. With all the
courage she could gather, she rushed toward him and stabbed her
stake-shaped rock into his neck, followed by clamping her teeth onto
his throat. Almost in unison, Hugh charged forward and locked onto
the opposite side of Skully’s neck. They sank their fangs deep into the
soft tissue, extracting mouths full of flesh, blood, and muscle. Skully
pulled back and, as two chunks of halblar blue flesh tore free, a fine
mist of blood fell from his organs and settled on the stony floor. She
glared at the blood oozing from him and thought, For all the innocent
women you murdered and for the sake of the circus.

He staggered toward them as though determined to fight on.

They charged him again, and this time their mouths closed on the
vampire’s neck in a unison dual death grips.

Skully’s horrifying screams were much like Rolo’s and

although both would haunt her nightmares forever, the soulless
vampire had earned his agony. He had attacked the innocent merely
for his own malicious pleasure and to satisfy his devilish hunger for
blood and flesh.

When Skully’s cries faded and he went limp, Hugh drew her

away from the motionless parasite and brought her firmly to his warm
solid chest, holding her desperately like a man who’d almost lost the
person who gave meaning to his life. Experiencing similar rushing
emotions, she clutched at him like a drowning woman, breathing hard
and feeling contaminated by the acidy taste of the vampire’s blood
and the horror of what they’d felt compelled to do.

Abruptly, Hugh pulled back. “Let’s make sure this demon

never rises again.”

Stones crunched and a beam of light flashed on them.

Flinching, their gazes darted to the opening into the section of the
tunnel where the dreadful fight to the death had occurred.

“Amen to that,” Madam Mystic said, her wide eyes revealing

horror at the bloody sight while her breathy tone revealed relief.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hugh asked. Deep

furrows formed above the bridge of his nose and his eyes glinted
brightly.

The unexpected twist had left Tigra momentarily speechless

and concerned about the ramifications of the mystic walking in on the
bloodbath.

“I had to come back to help,” the mystic said, her gaze taking

in the oozing bites and claw marks that covered their bodies. “You
two risked your lives to save me. Being a woman familiar with
voodoo and demons, I’ve always been terrified of my own shadow
and taken the path of least resistance. But after you two blessed me
with your unfailing courage, I’m not willing to ever be a coward
again.” She handed Tigra a silver cross. “I didn’t return quickly
enough to help take Skully down, but maybe this cross, once blessed
by the Pope, will keep him down.”

Tigra hugged, Madam Mystic. “Thank you. And for insurance,

I want to try everything any of us have ever heard. I don’t want the
Aptrgangr,” she said, meeting Madam Mystic’s gaze, “one who
lingers after death in the form of the malevolent dead, to ever rise
again.”

Madam Mystic touched her hand to her chin. “None of us

want that, my dear. In addition to burying him with the cross, the
methods I’ve heard are burning the vampire’s heart, pouring an
ancient iron element over his corpse, and stabbing him with a sword
made of yew wood.”

“Really?” Tigra asked, horrified yet fascinated. “I also heard

he can be killed by bullets filled with liquid silver nitrate.”

Hugh snorted. “Do either of you have any of those things or a

gun with silver nitrate bullets on you?”

Tigra felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she and Madam

Mystic shook their heads.

“Don’t look so disheartened ladies,” Hugh said. “We have

options. From my experience, I think if we lay him upside down, burn
him to ashes, and then throw the silver cross on top of the ashes it will
destroy him forever.”

Madam Mystic drew a bag from her pocket and sprinkled a

few cactus thorns into her palm. “I picked these from a yard on the
main street on my way here.”

Hugh glanced up at the ceiling of the cave. “Why?” he asked

with what sounded like forced patience in his tone.

“Because one other viable suggestion to destroy a demon, evil

spirit, or a vampire for all eternity is to surround the grave site with
thorns and move a boulder on top directly above the spot where the
vampire’s ashes lay.”

Hugh’s mouth twitched as if he were holding back a chuckle.
“Okay, those steps are doable. Now let’s get busy. Find a

sharp branch or stone and start digging this monster’s grave before
someone else comes along.” Hugh glanced at Madam Mystic. “No
one followed you, did they?”

Fear glinted in her dark eyes for a moment, and then she slid

her hands down her black, loose-fitting culottes. “No, I wore dark
clothes and stayed in the shadows. That should be good enough,
shouldn’t it?”

Tigra prayed it was. More witnesses could bring the kind of

trouble that would land them all in the electric chair.

Chapter Twenty-Three

With the three of them digging, it didn’t take long to dig a

shallow grave. Tigra and Madam Mystic gathered kindling and then
with a silent prayer, Tigra watched Hugh as he laid the vampire
upside down and used a flaming torch to set him on fire.

“Being a part of this ritual goes against my soul,” she said

softly.

“Mine, too,” Hugh whispered, “but leaving this monster free

to kill again is unthinkable.”

“It will be all right,” Madam Mystic said, touching Tigra’s

shoulder. “I’ll call on the spirits to protect us.”

A chill slipped down Tigra’s arms as Madam Mystic softly

sang an eerie voodoo chant.

Edgy emotions ricocheted around the cave walls as the flames

slowly turned the body to ashes. With gazes fixed on the small pit,
they sat stiffly and silently in a circle. The cremating process took an
eternity. The choking smell of burning flesh, musty decay, and
burning wood filled their section of the cave.

“I’d suggest you go to the cave entrance to breathe in some

fresh air,” Hugh said, “but separating is too dangerous. Are you ladies
going to be all right?”

They both nodded.
When the coals finally lost their glow, Tigra took a

shuddering breath and tossed her silver cross on top of the gray ash.
The rocky earth began to quake and Hugh grabbed her and drew her
into the warmth of his strong arms. Sheltered and protected, she
watched in fascination as the dregs of smoke soared upward,
hopefully carrying the vampire’s curse away.

After the smoke cleared, they sat a few moments as though

hypnotized.

Tigra flinched when suddenly Hugh pushed her away and

sprang to his feet. His stance was alert, coiled as though wary. “We’re
not finished,” he whispered and then he thoroughly covered the ashes
with dirt and stones.

Dancing and chanting, Madam Mystic scattered the parameter

of the grave-site with thorns. When she completed her procedure, the

three of them worked together to roll a boulder over the grave-site
directly above the spot where the vampire’s ashes lay.

Tigra bowed her head and said softly, “Please, Lord, forgive

us for this hedonistic ritual. We’ve agreed to accept our part in
sending this vampire back to hell for all eternity for the sake all those
who have fallen at this demon’s hand and those who might have
fallen in the future had we failed.”

“Amen,” Hugh and Madam Mystic said.

****

With heavy hearts, they silently escorted Madam Mystic to her

caravan. Teary eyed, Tigra hugged the psychic. When Hugh hugged
the psychic as well, Tigra felt her warm connection to her wolfman
deepen.

“It is agreed,” Tigra said in a choked voice. “None of us will

ever speak of this night again.”

“Agreed,” the psychic said.
Tigra shivered, moved beyond further words. The three of

them had accepted a pact that undoubtedly would change them
forever.

****

Minutes later, inside Tigra’s caravan she studied Hugh’s

injuries. “Those gouges and bites are deep, and maybe infected. Let
me take you to the ER.”

Hugh laughed without humor. “You know with our duality

that’s impossible.”

She sighed. He was right, of course.
He winked. “Besides, I prefer your gentle touch.”
Apparently he wasn’t too injured to play. “Okay, then,” she

said. “We are covered in cave dirt and your wounds are numerous and
wide spread, so the most efficient and sanitary way to bathe them
would be in the shower.”

“You’re wounded, too. So for expediency and to save water, I

insist we shower together.”

She laughed, took his hand, and drew him toward the glass

enclosure. When she turned to get the antibiotics, he began to strip.
Seeing his impressive phallic symbol pulsing and the glint in his eyes,
she placed the antibiotics on the sink counter and slipped out of her
clothing.

When she stood naked before him, she smiled, slowly taking

in everything about Hugh, from the top of his dark hair to his well-
formed thighs. She found it difficult to breathe. She’d seen him naked
before, but that was prior to falling in love with him. Good heavens,
he was the epitome of the perfect man. He was, trim, long-muscled,
and impressive. Nothing about Hugh looked soft, except the
expression in his eyes. That’s what got to her; the love she saw there.
Not just passion, but love.

She reached past him, turned on the shower, clasped his hand

and drew him with her into the warm, pelting, cleansing waters.
Steam swirled around them, wrapping their glistening bodies in
enchanting vapors.

Worried about his injuries, she fought her desire and gently

cleansed his wounds with a soft cloth. She felt his eyes devouring her.

When she finished, he said, “My turn to bathe your wounds.”
“Believe me,” she said with desire racing through her veins,

“right now that’s not a good idea.”

“Sure it is. We can’t let your wounds get infected.”
When he reached for her, she ducked away, lost her balance,

swayed, and braced herself against his firm, bare chest. As though her
hands had a mind of their own, she smoothed his moist, steel-like abs.

Searing heat shot between them. She felt his heart pounding as

hard as hers.

He gazed down at her. She moaned as he slid his index finger

from her left breast to her lower belly. “I love the way the shadows
emphasize your curves,” he whispered into her ear.

He caught her face between his hands and gazed down into her

eyes. “You were fantastic today, supportive and so brave.”

Hugh’s lips claimed hers and he drew her closer. His hand

skimmed down her side and explored her wet body, while hot water
rained down on them. He pinned her between the shower wall and his
own body. Tigra wound her arms around his neck and arched into
him, seeking all the contact he wanted to give. He cupped the swell of
her breasts and his tongue delighted her nipples with sweet torment.
She gasped at the feel of his strong arousal, pressing urgently against
her belly.

She closed her hand over his shaft, massaging him,

discovering him. His grateful moans heightened her excitement. But it
wasn’t just the passion raging between them that eased her heartaches.

It was love. She’d found a man she could love completely—trust
completely. And they were bound together for eternity by the ritual
they’d just performed in the cave. She accidentally bumped one of his
deep gashes and he flinched. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Until your wounds
are healed, this is insanity. We’d better get out and let me smooth
antibiotics on those bites,” she said past the constriction in her throat.

“Only if you allow me to return the favor,” he said.
“Can I trust there won’t be any more monkey business

tonight?”

He chuckled. “After what just happened in the shower,

probably not.”

Oh, God, his touch is always so arousing; but I’ll have to grit

my teeth and bare it. Releasing my tiger love must be postponed until
we’re healed and in better shape.

After they’d toweled off, she gently smeared antibiotics on

Hugh while saying her ABC’s backwards.

When she finished doctoring him, she said, “I’ll spread

healing salve on myself, but it’ll be a big help if you’ll lower my bed
from the wall.” She didn’t dare let him touch her again tonight.

“Of course. And I insist you invite me to stay the night. I need

to be near you until I check the cave again tomorrow and verify the
ritual was a success.”

She laughed. “Crafty way to wrangle an invitation. But don’t

stray from your side of the bed. We just proved neither of us has been
rendered harmless, but I don’t think either of us is up to a romp.”

The doubting side-long look he sent her way assured her he

felt she was wrong about that.

****

The next morning, silent as a shadow, Hugh got up at sunrise,

leaving Tigra to sleep, and headed toward the burial cave.
Anticipation and worry tightened his muscles. The sun rose higher,
lining the rolling hillsides to the east with radiant yellow light against
patches of green. The serrated purple mountains beyond caught the
illumination with the brilliance of the silver cross they’d buried with
the ashes. He breathed in the crisp air, unable to fully savor the
myriad scents of a new day as long as his thoughts were on the
vampire’s grave-site.

He sighed in relief when he found the burial ground as they

had left it. From his experiences in the past, he had a difficult time

believing the ritual had been a success and the danger was over. He
was grateful they were all alive—yet disappointed their curses had not
been lifted. He and Tigra had put their lives on the line for each other
while destroying the demon, yet their curses remained intact. He was
still a werewolf and she was still a tiger woman. He was also grateful
they’d managed to rid the world of at least one demon and saved
many lives into the future. But he’d counted on having it all. He’d
fallen in love with the forbidden and the mesmeric gaze of a tiger
woman he couldn’t resist.

Sadly his fatal flaw, his willingness to protect and even die for

her, had failed to release him. And likewise, her willingness to die for
him hadn’t released her. He couldn’t let the ancient curses’ hold on
them destroy their chances for happiness. He was ready to let go of
the tight rein on his emotions and allow himself to accept he could
love this wild beautiful creature in spite of their dissimilar species and
in spite of the fact she wasn’t, and never would be, the quiet
homemaker he’d dreamed of meeting. She was better; she was a
woman beyond his hopes and dreams, a wild creature who had
excited his blood and touched his heart. Somehow they would solve
the inner species problem. Fighting to ignore his injuries and the pain
of each jostling step, he ran toward the circus grounds, hoping Tigra
could accept him as he was, with all of the dangers and problems
connected with their duality.

****

Tigra rolled over in bed and groaned, hurting everywhere. She

reached for Hugh

The sheet beside her was cold. Maybe he was in the bathroom. In a
daze, she thought about how far they had come as a team. They’d
butted into each other’s flaws, each of them seeking independence,
but they’d conquered their problems and little by little, with Hugh’s
love, she had overcome her loner nature. She’d learned to trust her
judgment, assert her authority, and risk alienating her circus buddies.
She was strong before but she’d become stronger—now she was truly
worthy of the title Queen of the Tigers. She’d helped Hugh overcome
his belief he was merely in the world to help others. While that was
the best part of his nature, she’d finally convinced him he deserved to
have a special love of his own. Now, she wanted to be that love.

She threw off the covers and called to Hugh. Silence. She

made a carafe of coffee and then without even pouring a cup, she

paced her caravan, wondering if Hugh had gone to the cave alone.
They were a team and if he went there, she wanted, needed to
accompany him. Why had he left without a word? They had important
things to discuss. They had sacrificed themselves for each other and
almost ended up dead for their willingness to forfeit their lives for
each other. But their readiness to die hadn’t freed them of their curses.
What if Hugh went back to check on the burial site and Skully had, by
some vampire magic, risen from the ashes?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Scarcely able to breathe, Tigra fought shivers of foreboding.

She grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, heading for the hills.
Struggling for control, she breathed in the morning scents as she
fought the jostling neck pain of each step. She scanned the line of the
hills, watching for the entrance of the savage cave of death and
hoping their heinous ceremony had succeeded. Ahead the swirling,
steamy waters lay sparkling in the hazy sunlight. The cave was just
beyond the next ridge.

Suddenly, like an apparition, Hugh appeared and ran toward

her, arms open. The sun came from behind a cloud and its luminous
glow traced over the strong lines of his lupine features, lining them
with silver. She inhaled his feral scent and when he called her name,
she melted inside. He was alive. While the wind whistled around
them, he drew her into his arms and stared down at her. His feral
silver-gray eyes blazed with determination. He bent and kissed her.
While not deeply probing, it was nevertheless, a kiss full of promise.
She didn’t want him to stop. “He held her away. “What are you doing
out here?”

“I came to find you. Is everything all right?”
“I pray it will be.” His breath feathered over her face.
“What does that mean?”
As usual, he exuded this raw, hard-edged sensuality that made

thinking a struggle. With a concerned heart stronger than her passion,
she looked up at his etched face. He drew her over to the pool edge
and then gently urged her down beside him. “I need to get some
things off my chest,” he said in a ragged voice.

Their gazes locked. She swallowed and fought the turbulent

electricity soaring between them and attempted to organize her
thoughts. “Me, too.”

“I’m irrevocably in love with you, Tigra.” Her heartbeat

quickened at his words, his deep, rich tone, and the love glinting in
his eyes made her heart reach out for him. “I was willing to forfeit my
life for you. And I’ll willingly keep putting it on the line for the rest
of our lives to keep you safe.”

She closed her eyes, reveling in his words. “I feel the same

protectiveness toward you.”

“You’ve shown that in aces. Neither of us put our lives in

jeopardy to free ourselves from the curses, but we hoped for it. My
desire to have it all didn’t change my overflowing, uninhibited, and
unrestricted love for you. And I want you, curses and all, and pray
you can accept me as I am—a werewolf…a lycanthrope.”

Feeling a grin tugging at her lips, she said, “I accept

everything about you and I’m willing to sacrifice whatever is
necessary for us to have a life together.”

“Are you sure you can live with who and what I am for the

rest of your life?”

She felt her heart thudding against her breast. “Our diversity

will keep things interesting.”

He blew out a gust of air. “Even bringing children into our

relationship?”

She knew he loved children as much as she did. “Of course.

We can adopt.”

He drew her to him and she melted into a kiss she realized

seconds later, she would remember for the rest of her life because it
seemed to trigger the magic.

She watched in awe and fascination as the ghostly wolf within

Hugh vaporized, escaped his nostrils, and then hovered over the
steamy waters as though waiting for something. A thrill went through
her—his no holds barred love for me has cured him.

Joy for him soared through her. And then another miraculous

thing happened, on an exhale, vapor surged from her nostrils. A
ghostly tiger joined the wolf and they disappeared into the steam
rising from the water.

“My God, did you see that?” Hugh asked in awe. “I think our

love opened a door few people ever walk through. A door where
curses disappear and love is forever.”

****

When Vance, aka Skully, didn’t show up for the night’s show,

Coleman reported him missing along with Billy Cornwell. When
Officers Gonzales and Tanner came out to the grounds to get the
particulars, they didn’t get excited about Billy Cornwell being MIA,
but they were as livid as Coleman was about Skully’s disappearance.
They hinted something in the aerialist DNA made it imperative they
talk to him again immediately. Gonzales said he’d already put an
A.P.B., all points bulletin, out on him. Hugh remained silent, relieved

the officers weren’t questioning him or asking more questions about
his brother.

****

The next day, Hugh, Tigra, and Madam Mystic had a quick

meeting about their secret. “Then we’re all agreed, to go on with our
lives,” Hugh said. “We must accept we were forced into a war that to
save the two of you, and for the sake of the innocent people he would
have killed in the future, required eliminating Skully.” Tigra and
Madam Mystic nodded solemnly.

“No regrets, ladies,” Hugh said. “Even if the police could have

pinned the theft and murders on him, he would’ve managed to escape.
He’s done so in a number of lifetimes. We did what had to be done to
assure he’d never violate and kill another innocent young woman.”

“You’ve made your point, Hugh,” Tigra said. “So let’s move

on. On another subject, sort of, Coleman has fired both Cornwell and,
not knowing he’d dead, Skully. He said he’s through giving repeated
chances to people who just walk off the job without notice. He’s
already hired both men’s replacement. And another piece of news, he
isn’t selling the circus to that corporation that’s been bugging him.
Instead, he’s taken on a partner. And she’s bringing in the capital the
circus needs to grow and flourish.”

“She? Let’s see if we can get a bit more info on that,” Madam

Mystic said and waved a hand across her crystal ball. After a few
seconds she gave a sly smile. “If I’m reading the spirits right, this
partnership might involve more than just business.”

Tigra laughed. “Well, I hope you’re right. A soul mate might

keep him busy and out of my hair. Speaking of keeping him busy,
he’ll be gone all afternoon with the new partner, and he wants me to
welcome the new hire. I’d appreciate it if you two would to help me
make the guy feel welcome. His given name is Bradley Duce
Johnson. His aerial stage name is Midnight Prince.”

Madam Mystic laughed. I wouldn’t miss getting a look at a

character with a moniker like that.

****

Ten minutes later the three of them were at the vehicle

entrance with a banner that said WELCOME. The sun posed high in
the azure blue sky and puffy clouds hung over the mountains, while a
warm breeze ruffled their hair and fluttered the banner.

Suddenly the noise of the crowded arcade behind them was

drowned out by the roar of a Harley Davidson Road King.

“Talk about black, shiny, and gorgeous,” Madam Mystic said.
Tigra laughed. “Are you talking about the cycle or that ebony

glistening Adonis straddling it?”

Madam Mystic, wearing flowing burgundy slacks smoothed

her matching sweater and, thrust out her more than ample breasts.
“All that,” she said, her eyes alight with interest.

The biker pulled up and stopped next to them. He revved his

motor before killing it. Recklessness played in his insolent grin, his
glinting eyes, and in his powerful, muscle-rippling movements. He
removed his helmet and raked his hand through his kinky shoulder-
length hair. “Thanks for the welcome.” His gaze sized up Madam
Mystic with a seductive up-down swipe. “I think I’m going to like it
here,” he said in a very low timber as he stowed his helmet and locked
his Harley.

Madam Mystic stepped forward with a huge smile and glanced

at Tigra and Hugh. “Listen, you two don’t need to stay any longer. I’ll
surely make this brother feel welcome. How about some ribs and corn
bread, honey?” she asked in her calypso accent.

Tigra laughed. “Great, we have some practicing to do before

tonight’s performance. I trust you’ll show him to his caravan and get
him set up for tonight’s show.”

“Don’t worry another second about him,” Madam Mystic said,

“I’ll take him under my wing, show him the ropes and, if he plays his
cards right, give him a sample of his future.”

****

A week later, Madam Mystic, who Hugh was surprised to

learn was a licensed minister, married them in the center ring while
the circus crowd cheered. Tigra wore a veil and a white lace scarf to
hide her scars and he wore a white silk scarf to hide his. Because they
got married during their regular show, his beautiful bride wore the
wedding lace veil draped over the little strips of imitation fur he loved
so much and he wore his regulation black leather tights. Neither of
them minded giving up a traditional wedding because by having their
ceremony in the center ring during regular circus hours they could
share the event with their whole tinsel commune and all the circus
fans in the packed-full capacity stands. As a bonus his brother,
Damon, and his family attended, loaded with beautifully wrapped

gifts. Hugh hadn’t given it much thought before, but his new bride
wasn’t just gaining a husband, she was acquiring a whole family. The
family she’d never had.

He’d never seen Tigra happier. At the gala reception, in the

center ring of the streamer and balloon decorated Big Top, it warmed
his heart that Tigra fit right in with, and could empathize with, his
once cursed family.

****

Tigra felt giddy as Hugh carried her across the threshold of the

caravan Bubbles and Madam Mystic had conspired to decorate into a
gauzy white and pink wedding suite. Elegant white and gold candles
illuminated the beauty and added to the magic she felt racing through
her blood. She undid her veil and tossed it across the room as she
inhaled the scent of dozens of roses.

She stared at her new husband. His gaze deepened, and he

covered her mouth with his. Love and lust exploded inside her as he
increased the pressure and probed slowly with his tongue, raising
sensual havoc with her nerve endings.

He glanced around briefly. “The ladies did a great job.”
“Terrific,” she said, wondering how she and Hugh would

manage to make the kind of love she craved past all of their injuries.

He stepped closer to the already pulled down bed, and,

looking into her eyes, he gently lowered her, sliding her down against
the hot, hard contours of his chest, stomach, and thighs. By the time
her feet touched the floor, her knees were weak and trembly. She
pressed against him, inviting his passion, his power. Pain be damned.

Frantically, they discarded their circus costumes. The tight,

black leather pants fell on top of her little strips of fur. Once in bed
beside her, and he drew her into his arms. His bare chest pressed
firmly against her pulsing nipples. He looked down at her, his warm
breath mingling with hers. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”

His mouth closed over hers; first softly like a summer breeze,

then hot and demanding, like a Santa Ana wind. She clung to the
dizzying euphoria as his lips trailed down to the swell of her breast.
His erection pressed against her thigh, reminding her of their first dip
in the steamy pool.

She patted him. “You’re no longer a lycanthrope, but you still

have that Alpha branding touch.” He laughed, and she heard pure joy
in his tone. He lifted himself with powerful arms and swung over and

straddled her, his flesh scorching hers. Her core heated to a shivery
liquid as their kisses grew more frantic. He laid her back prone on the
silken sheets. Wild with fever, she arched her back and thrust her hips
forward, inviting him to love her. She moaned in ecstasy as he
explored the smooth contour of her belly and the moist triangle of
curly hair with his hands, his lips. He kissed her, caressing her as his
hand slid between her thighs. She arched her hips again to meet his
seeking fingers. Then she wanted more. Eager for the hot hardness
that throbbed against her apex, she arched again. He rained kisses on
her face, then French-kissed her until her core was hot, tingling, and
wildly receptive. She clung to him as he gently entered her and began
the slow, rhythmic dance of passion. When she thought she couldn’t
stand a second more of her rising and agonizing desire, he quicken the
pace. She slid her hands around his waist, then lower and dug her
fingers into his hard, unyielding buttocks, crying out as he brought her
to an earthshaking pinnacle. She exploded again and again, shattering
into so many pieces that pain and pleasure joined in an unbelievable
orchestration of fireworks. They rode the wave of crazed wildness
until Hugh convulsed inside her, and together they plunged over the
edge into a grateful release while clinging to one another with their
last ounce of strength.

Hugh rolled off her and they lay side by side, breathing hard

and trying to catch their breaths.

After a few moments, he drew her into his arms again and held

her. When the afterglow faded, she looked up at him. He winked at
her with his thickly-lashed eyes and then kissed her nose. “She-Tiger
or human hellcat, you take my breath away.”

She kissed his chest and laughed. “If we can perform a mind-

blowing romp in our condition, just imagine what we can do once
we’ve totally healed.”

He clasped her hand and entwined their fingers. “I can’t

imagine it being any better. Even in this uncertain world, after what
we’ve lived through together, I’m confident our love, passion, and
desire will grow stronger as we share and experience life together.”
She traced a prominent tendon in his hand. “I’m ready and excited to
start that new phase of my…our life.”

“Excellent, you’re already thinking like a married lady. And I

promise to devote myself to making certain you never regret it.” He
stroked her cheek. “In a few days, after we pull up stakes and head for

Europe, I’ll get my dream of traveling the full loop with the circus
beside the woman of my dreams.”

The End

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