Shifters Unbound [5] Tiger Magic by Jennifer Ashley Page A

she’d never had to body tackle any of them to Armand’s gallery floor.
    Walker had Connor in a headlock, spinning Connor around to face Tiger. The muscles in Walker’s arm bulged as he held a snarling Connor around his neck, not letting go even though Connor was beginning to shift.
    Tiger’s hands sprouted immense claws, his face transitioning to a snarling tiger’s. “Don’t. Hurt. The cubs.”
    He went for Walker, Carly still yelling for help.
    The door of the second house opened, and someone emerged, but Carly didn’t clearly see who it was until a tall man who looked a lot like Sean got his hands around Walker’s neck and jerked him backward.
    The momentum made Walker release Connor, now a young lion with the beginnings of a black mane, who fell to all fours, panting.
    The rescuer spun Walker around and delivered a tight, efficient blow behind Walker’s ear. Walker had balled up his fist to punch first, but his hand went slack, and he collapsed at the newcomer’s feet.
    The man looked Walker over, then shifted his gaze to Carly, giving her the same assessing stare. He was an older version of Sean and Liam, with similar blue eyes, but his dark hair was going gray at the temples. The difference was in the absolute stillness this man could achieve; it was even more acute than that which she’d observed in the Shifters at the hospital, or even in Tiger.
    This Shifter looked at Carly, all the way through her, as though he knew every thought inside her head—the ones now, every thought she’d had in the past, and every one she would have in the future. His nostrils moved the slightest bit.
    “Who is she?” he asked, voice deadly quiet. Not asking Carly—oh, no. He wasn’t even asking Tiger. The question had been directed at Connor.
    The young lion shook himself. He sat down on his haunches, not turning back to human. The man’s blue gaze flicked to Tiger, waiting for him to answer. But Tiger remained in place, though his face and hands became human again, still protecting Connor.
    Carly stepped forward into the silence. “I’m Carly Randal,” she said, trying to sound both bright and firm, as she did when arrogant people came to the gallery to sneer at brilliant paintings. “And you are?”
    “He’s Dylan,” Tiger said. “Used to be Shiftertown leader.”
    “Retired, are you?” Carly asked. “That’s nice.”
    Dylan’s eyes flared with white-hot anger. Carly understood in that moment what it was like to be a rabbit under the gaze of a mountain lion right before that lion put out a paw and ended the rabbit’s life.
    Then Dylan’s rage dissipated, and the corners of his lips quirked into a small, ironic smile. “I gave over the running of Shiftertown to my son. Who is that?” He pointed at Walker on the ground.
    “His name’s Walker Danielson,” Carly answered. “From the Shifter Bureau, apparently.”
    Dylan’s smile vanished. “Shite, woman. And you thought it was a good idea to haul him here wrapped in duct tape?”
    Connor remained a lion, slowly blinking and looking as innocent as a youthful male lion possibly could.
    “He threatened Carly,” Tiger said, fury in his voice.
    “So you beat him down,” Dylan said. “Whose idea was the duct tape?”
    “Mine,” Carly said quickly. Connor was too young to have this dangerous-looking man angry at him. Dylan might not be in charge anymore, but his stance said that he hadn’t stopped expecting everyone to obey him. “I didn’t know what to do with him, and I didn’t want him to go to the police, so I thought Shifters would know what to do.” Carly gave Dylan her most charming smile, one that disarmed even the pickiest of gallery customers.
    “She’s lying,” Tiger said.
    “I know,” Dylan answered. “I can smell it. Let’s get him inside.”
    Not inside his own house, the one he’d come out of—Dylan heaved Walker up over his shoulder as though the man weighed nothing and carried him into the house next door.
    No one was