The Tiger's Baby: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance (5 page)

“Tell me about it,” she said, relaxing against his touch and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“So, what now?” he asked, “I suppose you’ll want to head back to the Enclave.”

There was a note of resignation in his voice, but it was hiding something else, something he didn’t want her to see.
But I did
, she bit her lip. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know it’s standard, and that it’s expected of me – return to the Enclave, bring up my child there. But… but it feels, strange. I don’t know.” She gulped; afraid of what came next. There was no hiding from it, though. “I like you, Rodney.”

They must have been the words he was waiting to hear because he suddenly lunged forward and wrapped both arms around her. His arms slid on the leather jacket and she tucked her head in against his shoulders, feeling the monstrous weight of him surround her. His elbow hit his coffee and spilled over the cold stones of the patio, but neither seemed to notice.

At last he pulled back, and she took in a deep breath. “I like you too, Kristen. More than that,” he blushed but kept his gaze level, “I know I shouldn’t, but there it is. Maybe we both slipped up, but I’ll own up to my part – I think I fell in-”

Kristen quickly held up her finger and pressed it against his lips. She didn’t want to hear that from him, not right now. She was still overwhelmed with everything else. “I… I would like to stay in Nelson, it’s not been very long, but… I feel like I’ve found a place here, and I know Gloria has, too. It doesn’t seem fair to pull her away.” He smiled, more at the fact that Kristen was using Gloria as a reason to stay, but let it go. “Is… is that okay?” she asked sheepishly.

He reached down and picked up the fallen coffee cup. The dark liquid had scattered into the cracks of the stonework and its steam seemed to lift off the hard surface like a whisper. For the first time she felt a shiver as a gust of cold wind came up and over the garden of Oso Negro and snuck under her jacket. “That’s perfectly okay,” he said, holding up his empty cup comically, “but a small little loft like the one the two of you’ve got… and going up and down these steep hills to work, that’s a bit of a chore isn’t it? What if you… I mean, don’t freak out, but what if you moved into my place?”

Kristen hadn’t really expected the offer. It would be easier to make it to work, and as the pregnancy progressed, it would be nicer to be more centrally located. “Are you asking me to move in?” she said dumbly.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what I just did,” he said.

She leaned in and kissed him, almost slipping on the stone bench as she did, and Rodney reached out to catch her. His own lips pressed against hers with a certainty that belonged to only one kind of emotion, the kind she had prevented him from voicing just now. She kissed him back, gripping both cheeks with her hands, and felt his arms encircle her waist again.

As she searched her own heart and feelings, it was like looking out of a pitch black cave. Still very far away, like a rumor she could hardly dare to believe in, was a glimmer of light, something she could dream of, and only glimpse at through the corner of her eye. But as it came closer and grew brighter, she knew she felt the same way.

I love him;
the thought reached an epiphany only when Rodney finally pulled away from her full wind-bitten lips, and his fierce greyish eyes relaxed.

CHAPTER FIVE

By the time the last leaves had fallen, autumn decided to hit Nelson with a barrage of storms that dragged for days across the sky like grey coiled serpents. Kristen looked out the window of her ‘office’, which was more like a corner that had been shunted off with fake plaster walls. But it was quiet, and it was hers, and it had one of the only windows. She watched as more rain thundered across the downtown area. Even from here she could almost make out Rodney’s home next to the lake.

Moving in had been a relatively easy process. Even Gloria seemed unabashed by her decision, and probably was relishing some of her own space as well. It took some getting used to at first – she had never lived with a man before, and for a week her mind could only circulate around the trivial obstacles they might run into together.

But there had been relatively few. She and Rodney seemed to behave as any couple, though when they went out in public now, linked arm in arm, she still cast uneasy glances at other couples to see if she was acting appropriately. Rodney found it cute, and teased her no end about it. Everything seemed to be going her way. She had been hired as permanent part-time reporter for the paper.

And the sex. She blushed thinking about it, and looked around, as if someone could have just as easily snatched her thoughts out of the air telepathically. With the sudden changes in her hormones, she found herself feeling even more pent-up than usual, and whenever she returned home, whether day or night, she sought out Rodney. Their lovemaking became a kind of dance, each of them learning the other’s movements by heart. She pulled her skirt down over her legs, suddenly horrified that she was turning herself on just thinking about it. She felt a warm pulse between her legs.
Wait till you get home, you stupid girl,
she thought.

Home. It was hard to even imagine, but the small cabin on the lake felt like a place she had belonged to, without ever knowing she belonged. Even Nancy, Rodney’s redoubtable and sadistic cat, had started to warm up to her, though she still harbored a few scratches. She hissed as her thumb tapped the space bar on the laptop, and held it up to the light where one of Nancy’s “souvenirs” stood out like bright ribbon.

“Kristen, you there?” She turned and saw her editor, Dave, peer around the corner of her office with his heavy glasses. “I’ve got two articles I’d like you to take a look at, fix my horrible spelling errors and the like, y’know. Then you can take off early if you like.”

She absently touched her stomach. She hadn’t told him yet she was pregnant, and it would still be a month or so before the bump started to show. “Will do, Dave, thanks.”

“Are you going to be okay, heading home? It’s really blowing out there,” he said, adjusting his glasses.


“I’ll be okay, Rodney’s picking me up at the coffee shop, anyway,” she smiled.

She looked down at the two articles and did a quick read through. One of them was a fluff piece about a sand castle competition happening in the sister city, about an hour and half to the east. She quickly did an edit and turned her attention to the second article. This one caught her attention – it was another update on the mysterious animal killings that had started nearly a month ago. It seemed as if they were getting closer to town. Several more dead cows had showed up in a farmer’s pasture, and this one was just across the bridge, less than five minutes out of town. Most of the professional sources claimed it was a rogue cougar, or group of cougars, maybe infected with rabies. Other less reliable media outlets called it the ‘Monster of Nelson’ – as usual, they were capitalizing on it. She sniffed and finished the edit, and then excused herself from the small rectangular office.

It was grey and shadowy outside, and a fierce wind had picked up that belted itself against the houses, but the rain had thankfully desisted for the time being. Pulling up the hood on her sweatshirt underneath her jacket, she battled the elements back across the street to Oso Negro. Plenty of locals were crammed in it today, taking shelter from the storm and enjoying the fresh roasted beans. Behind the counter, Jen and the other baristas were struggling to keep up with orders, she heard the static drone of voices conversing at the many tables.

She ordered a mocha and took a seat that a kindly old man offered her with a tip of his hat. It was one of the tall benches that faced the window so she could stare out at the sky. She checked her watch.
What was keeping Rodney?
He had gotten off his shift a half hour ago and was supposed to be waiting. She sighed, and leaned over her drink –
how about that, I’m really getting into this domestic business
, she thought. Even if that meant having the occasional spat with her significant other.

Kristen waited. And waited longer. The café began to thin, and the streetlights flickered on before Jen finally escaped from behind the counter and touched her shoulder.

“Hey, you, waiting for Rod?” she asked.

Kristen nodded. “Yeah, ‘cept he was supposed to be here already. I don’t understand. I’ve tried to get him on his cell, but it’s either off or he’s ignoring me,” she said, trying not to let worry creep into her voice.

Jen unfastened her dreadlocks, which had been bundled at the top of her head, and they tumbled over her shoulders like brownish snakes. The young woman had two piercings in each eyebrow, and uncountable rings in each ear. She smelled of coffee, a deep burnt volcanic smell that brought tears to Kristen’s eyes.

“I’m sure he’s not ignoring you. Probably just got an extra shift or something, and forgot his phone. I’m getting off work in a few minutes though, I can give you a ride home if you like? You don’t want to walk home in this weather.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll head off now, besides, I could use a little exercise,” Kristen replied with a wink.
Now why did I do that
, she wondered. Letting Rodney into her life had been a big step, being so unaccustomed to letting others help her. It was still difficult to admit weakness and accept the kindness from others. She frowned, and hoped Jen wasn’t offended, but the hippie girl merely nodded compliantly.

“Okay, but be careful out there. We’re supposed to get more rain tonight.”

Kristen stepped outside and found the air was actually warmer than when she’d left the office of the newspaper. It was as if all the heat of the day had been bundled up and tucked in under the cloud cover. She made her way toward the lake, but each step was an effort, and she suddenly found herself quite angry.
What the hell
, she wanted to scream. Rodney had promised to pick her up. If the weather were better, it wouldn’t matter so much, but this was something else altogether. She started to rehearse what she would say to him when she finally got home. She’d almost planned her entire rant by time she reached the lower street that ran parallel to the train tracks when she realized how alone she was. She looked around nervously – there were only a few streetlights on this corner, and though she could hear the traffic back behind her on main street, the stretch from Oso Negro to Rodney’s cabin ran through an industrial zone where there was no one.

She gulped. She’d walked this same route before many times, but it had always been in daylight. She looked up and saw the halo of the lone streetlight flicker, a kind of halo glowing around it where it illuminated the staggered precipitation. Suddenly, a shadow caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she turned. Nothing, only an unused fenced off section with machine parts.
Just get home
.

Kristen increased her pace, slogging through the puddles on the side of the street, and making a b-line for the cabin. She could just make out the lights in the top room. Another three hundred meters. Her foot tripped over a stone, and she almost fell face first into a puddle. With a gasp she lurched back, and let out a groan.

She didn’t see the dark figure behind her who clamped a hand on her shoulder.

With a yelp she whirled around and truly lost her balance this time. Struggling backward she struck her back against the grilled wire of the fence and let out a squeal of pain as it scraped her back. Through the veil of rain she saw the dark figure approach, and the streetlight suddenly hit his features, bringing them into focus. He was ugly, almost six feet tall and muscled. A dark black rain jacket hung off his limbs, making him look like some monstrous bat. But it was his face that caused her to scream. It might’ve been handsome at one time, but whatever he’d been through had turned into a scarred and pocked battleground of old and distant injuries.

“Wh-what do you want?” she exclaimed, crouching back with her hands raised. The rain came down, rushing over her face and promising to blind her.

“You have no idea, little girl,” the man thrummed, his voice breaking through the rain like an electric current, nearly robotic. “Get up! Get up now, or I’ll stand you up myself!” he threatened.

Kristen did as she was commanded, still holding both hands up in defense. “I-I don’t know what you want, but I-I don’t have any money on me. Please.”

The man gripped her shoulder. His fingers were like steel wire and she opened her mouth in a noiseless scream as she was thrust toward him. “You tell him… you tell that motherfucker, we’re coming for him, you understand? He’s had it coming. You tell him, to meet us at the old place, you do that okay?”

“Wh-what??”

“Rodney!” the man screamed, and Kristen almost dropped to her knees. How did this ogre know Rodney, and what did he have to do with anything? There was a weird seriousness in the stranger’s voice, a kind of intimate familiarity with her mate’s name that put her on edge. Whatever their relationship, it was clear it had its history. “You tell Rodney, we’re back. And if he don’t come… if he don’t come, then maybe we start hurting things he loves, until he
does
, you get it?”

Kristen had moved beyond fear. The rain had made its way down under her coat, wicked into her clothes, and she shivered uncontrollably. Her legs felt weak, frigid as they collapsed in the mud and puddles, but it was all just physical sensation, something you could block out. She closed her eyes, and went to the dark cave in her mind where the Tiger lived, sleeping, dormant. All she had to do was flick its ears, yank its tail, and it would emerge. Desperately, she tried to temper her Shifter abilities.

If he comes at me again, I’ll change
, she promised, breathing hard under her collar, her hair a damp glutinous mask that ran down her face.

But when she opened her eyes, the man was gone. There was only a shaken puddle, a heavy foot print disappearing in the spilled sand along the road, to indicate there had been anyone at all. She looked around quickly, but there was no sign of anyone, and her heart drummed against her chest painfully, not fast but hard, like someone knocking on a door to be let in.
Or out
, she thought, clutching her breast.

A bright set of lights doused her from the other side of the road, and she held up her hands.
A car
. It must have frightened the man off. She was thankful beyond words for its fortuitous appearance, and she couldn’t tell if the wetness streaking her face now was tears or rain. They both had the same temperature. It wasn’t until the lights dimmed and the vehicle came closer that she was certain they were tears.

It was Rodney’s truck, and he jumped out and ran through the rain, wordlessly embracing her in a hug. His fingers pulled the slick hair out of her eyes and he wiped at her cheek where mud had painted it. Her lips were blue, and she was shaking again, uncontrollably, but it was only shock.

“Oh my god, my god, Kristen, what are you doing? What happened, are you okay?”

“I… I waited… for you,” she breathed, even as he held her with both hands and kissed her, “but you didn’t come. I… I wanted to go home, so I walked… then…”

“Oh god,” Rodney’s face was etched in guilt and shame, and he bit down on his own humiliation as he hugged her again, drawing her close to him. She sighed with the warmth of his body against her. For a moment, she had to admit she had doubted whether or not she would ever feel it again. “I should have been there, I’m so sorry. What happened? Why are you so dirty?”

She wondered if she should really tell him. She was still in shock, and could barely get out the proper syllables. “Someone… someone stopped me,” she saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, and a scowl appeared, “…tried to… he said… was looking for you.” Her lips had become ice cubes. “Where… wh-where were you?”

Rodney’s face fell and he clutched her close to him again. “I’ll never leave you again,” he whispered into her collar, and she felt his own tears slide down the nape of her neck. He picked her up, and she was amazed at how strong he was – it was as if he had picked up a feather with no more effort than breathing.

She let him put her in the passenger seat, and he abruptly shoved the old truck into gear as they tumbled back down the road to the waiting cabin.

Inside, Rodney helped her to strip down, each article of clothing sloughing off like a wet second skin. Her coat and shirt landed on the tiles, and she unfastened her bra. Her breasts had become larger with her pregnancy, preparing for the child that was now only an embryo inside her. But in her near-hypothermic state they were like white pillows, drained of blood. Her fingers were too numb to work the buttons on her jeans so Rodney laid her down with a towel across her shoulders and slowly unzipped them, pulling them off one leg at a time.