Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) (18 page)

She stooped to his side, hunching over him while cupping his face. “Sheng? Sheng, answer me.”

One indrawn breath from him eased the edge off her terror. He squinted at her through hooded eyes. “Hey, Lucy.” His British accent deepened as his words slurred, but not because he’d been drinking.

Shock. Pain. These made a man incoherent. She’d witnessed this response to suffering during the Red Death, caring for neighbors before the government had banned all personal contact.

His head lolled, his eyes drifting shut.

“No. Don’t fall asleep, Sheng. Stay with me.” She slapped his cheek once, then harder until he jerked his eyes open. “Where are you hurt?”

His eyes flashed with admiration, and she would’ve thought him impressed by her calm tone if he didn’t appear so far gone. Panic wasn’t a state she accepted in herself. She’d rather work her way out of anxiety. “What happened?”

His breathing rasped as he stroked her cheek. “Hurts so bad.
Hmm.
” Okay, he must be incoherent, because she could’ve sworn he was hitting on her. Divulging emotions he felt but refused to share.

She gave his hand one quick squeeze. “I’m going to call an ambulance. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” His hand tightened around hers. “No ambulance. They’d put us in cages.”

Oh. She hadn’t considered that. Images of the Chosen blood smears Mei had shown her ran through her mind. “I’ll call Mei.”

“No.” He coughed hard, struggling to sit. “Has to be you. No time.”

Has to be me?
“I’m not a doctor.”

He didn’t answer, likely because his voice was too hoarse, but he pointed to his clothes, glistening beneath the vibrant moonlight.

She considered protesting, but she should at least survey the extent of his injuries first. He’d come to her. There had to be a reason why.

He trusts me.
The notion tugged at her chest, but she shoved it aside. Leaning over Sheng, she skated her hands along his body, seeking the source of the blood. A sticky, inky substance splattered his clothes, but the crimson blood condensed like an epicenter on his right abdomen.

“I have to get this shirt off you. I should get some gauze or something.” Oh, man. She struggled against the tremors spreading through her hands.

Sheng grunted. “Bathroom. Under the sink.”

Thank goodness he knew his way around her apartment better than she did. No time to analyze that.

She darted from his side to the bathroom cupboard and scanned for the kit.

Gotcha.

After she seized the small medical kit, she rushed back to Sheng’s side. Flipping the lid open, she plucked out the scissors and went to work snipping away his blood-soaked t-shirt. Her breath hissed as she peeled the cloth back, revealing an ugly long slash. It dribbled blood in time with his shallow pants.

As she brought the scissors to his jacket, he stopped her with a growl. “Don’t you dare.”

“Wow. Someone likes their leather.” She set down the scissors and glided her hand across his shoulder to slide off the sleeve. “This is going to hurt more.”

“That’s debata—” He hissed as she freed his arm, and she ignored his cursing while she tugged down the other sleeve. Grimacing, she tossed aside the soiled garments.

“Okay.” She collected herself, speaking in low tones to soothe both her anxiety and his. “I’ve got this. It’s still bleeding, but it’s not too deep. Here, um, lie back.” She snatched a pillow off the couch behind her and tucked it beneath his head, stealing a glimpse at his pupils. He was semi-alert, responsive to her questions, if nothing else.

Good, right?

Ripping open a package, she patted the gauze across the wound. “Stitches?”

That’s when he focused on her, his eyes burning with intensity. “No, I just need you.”

She swallowed hard. What the heck was he talking about? “I don’t know what to do, Sheng. Do you? Can you tell me what I’m supposed to do next?”

Clean the wound, stitch it, shove antibiotics down his throat? He’d lost a lot of blood, but maybe not enough to be in serious danger. Infection was a better killer than most wounds. “Do I have any alcohol?”

“
Báijiŭ.
Kitchen. Top right cupboard.”

She stopped from shaking her head at his familiarity with her apartment and retrieved the vodka-like Chinese liquor. After she popped it open, he snagged the bottle from her grasp and brought it to his lips, chugging the alcohol.

“Hey! That’s not for you to drink.”

He paused with the bottle near his lips. “Damn sure makes me feel better though.”

Great, now he was joking. Well, at least his light mood eased the anxiety sparking through her veins. People didn’t jest when they were suffering serious trauma…or did they?

Trepidation spiked right back through her bloodstream. “Okay, smartass, what’s next?”

“Now you heal me.” He sighed and slumped his head back down, the
báijiŭ
bottle slipping from his grasp. She snatched it before the clear liquid spilled onto the floor.

“And I would do that by…” She paused, hoping he’d finish her sentence.

“Let Rabbit out.” His words came out detached, as though he drifted off again.

No. No, no. “Sheng!” She slapped his cheek again.

He flinched, mumbling. “Rabbit can heal me. Part of the circle. How Mei fixed your arm.”

From anyone else’s lips, she would’ve considered that babbling nonsense. But her arm… Her arm. She rubbed the spot she’d believed had been broken.

“My arm did break?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

“Would you have believed me if I told you the Chosen had healed your broken arm?”

True. Likely not. She didn’t really believe it now. “How does the Rabbit heal you? Sheng? Tell me, please.”

He groaned. “The circle. Complete the circle, the energy goes round and round.” He twirled his index finger in the air before closing his eyes.

No. Was she losing him?

“Rabbit, Rabbit,
Rabbit
.” She chanted the word beneath her breath.
Dig deeper, Luce. Figure this out.
She refused to watch him bleed out right in front of her.

Save him. Catch that damn bunny.

She stared between her hand and Sheng’s face as his skin paled from its bronzed hue to a tone much closer to hers. Right. No time to think, just to do.

“Out, Rabbit.” She clenched her teeth, searched within herself, and yanked the beast by its ears. “Heal him.”

Rabbit shirked back but she didn’t allow it to bolt from her grasp. Not this time.

Leaning forward, she brushed her fingers against Sheng’s wound. The gauze had halted the bleeding, but the cut was nasty. A spark flared as she made contact with his skin, and she pressed her fingers into his torso to stop her hand from jerking back.

He rolled his eyes open, dark narrow slits that gleamed—Tiger aroused.

Energy fogged over her, slinking, winding, as Rabbit slowly cloaked her with its essence.

But Sheng? Nope. Tiger emerged from his body, cloaking him with fluid grace. Like the hologram tipped forward, she no longer saw Sheng. Instead, a massive beast sprawled before her.

Her jaw slacked open. “You’re beautiful.”

Tiger was. Pale blue-gray eyes, glinting with a metallic sheen and so full of wisdom, were set in a face both fearsome and majestic. The stripes of black streaking its face were striking. Most unusual was how his Tiger didn’t possess any orange fur. Sections of white offset the black stripes, but most of its fur was slate gray.

“Maltese tiger,” Sheng slurred.

The name pinged around inside her brain. Whatever the species, Tiger was the most gorgeous beast she’d ever seen. And the largest. About the same size as the mid-size car she used to own…piece of junk that it was. Hell, she could ride Tiger to work. Bet the beast wouldn’t break down every five miles, either.

Tiger studied her, its focus unwavering. Patient. Curious.

Passionate.

Rabbit shuddered, but she didn’t release it. “Heal him.” Spreading her fingers wider, she willed Rabbit’s cloaking to extend over her body with as much ease as Tiger’s had over Sheng.

If he controlled Tiger, she could do the same with Rabbit.

Their spirits joined, sending an electric jolt through her system, but she refused to flinch. Sparks had become a rather common occurrence when touching Sheng. With the others too, but strongest with him.

After the initial zap settled, she sensed what he’d been mumbling about. The circle. Rabbit floated away from her, tethered by the thinnest strand, while Tiger’s essence coursed through her. The spirits flowed between her and Sheng, filling her with pure bliss. She almost closed her eyes and sank back onto the tiled floor but, at the last minute, recalled the reason for this ritual.

Scanning Sheng’s side, she peeked beneath the gauze. Amazing.

His breaths rasped in and out as his wound knitted together. Poor guy. The process of healing looked painful. Beads of sweat condensed on his brow while he clenched his jaw. After a few minutes, the dark red of his exposed flesh healed and the gash faded to pink before it camouflaged with his skin.

“
Argh!
” He snarled from between gritted teeth, twisting away from her.

“What’s wrong?” Their contact broke, but the two spirit animals continued to float around them, through them.

He vaulted to his feet, hands at his belt buckle. Wrenching it open, he yanked down his pants…and he wasn’t wearing anything beneath them.

His decadently muscled lower half gleamed in the moonlight, illuminating the trail of dark hair framing his considerable sex.

She froze, gaping, until she caught sight of the nasty gash splitting his right thigh and rounding to the back of his leg. “You look like you’ve been
gored
.”

He bent, twisting his legs out of his pants before falling to his hands and knees. His head hung, the tips of his hair brushing the floor while the circle healed the slash on his thigh.

It must have been excruciating, but he just crouched, grunting every so often.

Admiration for this intense, tough man sang through her, spiking her feminine senses.

He was both nude and in immense pain so she wavered on whether or not to touch him. Beasts often lashed out when in pain and, in this moment, Sheng just might be more beast than man.

Her instincts won out.

On her knees, she crawled closer to him and placed a hand on his back. When he didn’t flinch, she rubbed her hand in a slow, soothing circle.

The gashes were nearly healed by the time she detected Rabbit condensing back into her. Sheng groaned and she assumed Tiger had done the same. The coalescent cloud around them shrank back with their animals. He collapsed to the ground, sprawling on his back.

Although her cheeks burned, she bit her lip and forced herself not to focus on his nudity. No matter how torturous it was to ignore.

A deep sigh escaped his lips. She crooked her head at him. Thick lashes lifted, his dark eyes penetrating her. “Thank you.”

“What happened to you?”

“Talk…tomorrow.” He yawned, reaching for her, but she jerked back and stood. Her body and mind went to war. Sheng was deadly sexy, lying nude on her living room floor. Barely recovered from lethal injuries. This was not the right time.

The man deserves a breather before you jump him, Luce. Sheesh.

“What’s wrong?” Dark slashes drew across his forehead.

“I, uh…naked.” She stammered the obvious which, judging by his nonchalant shrug, he either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

Confident the flaring heat in her cheeks meant her bright red blush was visible even in this semi-darkness, she angled her face away.

“Why don’t you, ah, sleep on the couch?” Keeping her face averted, she pointed to the enormous plush sofa. She’d offer him her bed, but she guessed he’d refuse. Besides, the bedroom was too far to move him. He might be healed, but his skin remained pale.

“Good idea. Mind helping me?”

Her gaze shot back to him to confirm that yes, indeed, he was still quite naked. The curl of his lips was more wicked than compliant. He did an excellent job of making a show of his desire for assistance, grunting and huffing as he attempted to haul himself to his feet.

She shifted her stance, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. He clearly required her help, but groping his smooth, muscled skin would send her hormones into overdrive.

Impetuousness won out. She shuffled to his side and slid her hands around his waist, delighting in the warmth of his skin. He flung one arm across her shoulders, forcing her hand to rest precariously low on his hip. Her other gripped his torso. Their stance pressed her cheek against his delectably hard pecs. His decadent, masculine musk assaulted her nostrils, and she found herself helpless not to soak it in.

He might pretend not to notice how dangerously close they were, but his pounding heart beneath her cheek strummed a different tune. She helped him limp the three feet to their right and lowered him onto the couch.

“
Uhn.
” He groaned as he stretched on his back.

The sheer lack of modesty he displayed in her presence toyed with every emotion in her chest. Was he simply unabashed? Or trying to seduce her?

“You’re, ah, still n-naked.” Damn, she felt like an idiot for repeating the inanely obvious. Even worse for the tremor in her voice. “I’ll grab you a blanket.” She rushed toward the hall closet.

“Too hot.”

At his protest, she made the mistake of glancing back at him. He’d crossed his arms over his head, one leg lifted and bent at the knee. He appeared comfortable and in no hurry to cover himself.

She clenched her hands at her sides. Her breathing grew shallow as she gawked at every ripple of muscle on this decadently exotic male specimen. He was precisely like the Tiger. Unapologetically beautiful. Advertising his nudity as if he had no idea—or concern for—how it heated her blood.

His intense gaze followed her as she marched back to his side. “Well, I would appreciate it if you’d cover yourself up.”
Good girl.
Her tone sounded firm, holding none of the uncertainty she stamped down inside.

His thick brows lifted. “Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”