Tiger Bound Read Online Free

argue that.
    He barely watched the road as they drove the mile to the first turn—but then, he never watched the road. Oh, he could drive and he could navigate. But it had never been natural...never been a part of who he was. They’d been too late in finding him for that.
    Pine Bluff was a small town with a single wide, meandering main street; one turn took them onto narrow asphalt, another onto dirt. They passed a house set far back in the woods, then another; after a third, they came to a straight quiet stretch and Maks rolled his window down to take in the scents of the place. All the green, all the fir and pine, all the sharp, dry dust and a thick overlay of dried needles breaking down black over silty soil.
    Not a tiger’s native land...unless that tiger happened to be Maks.
    The dirt road ended without fanfare, turning into the stumpy driveway for a well-worn log cabin tucked in among the trees. It was old enough to precede the existence of manufactured log homes; old enough for the trees to crowd it, ponderosa pines looming tall.
    She cut the little car’s engine, and they sat in silence for a moment.
    Maks breathed.
    Maybe for the first time in a long time.
    “I need to do some fire clearing,” Katie said finally.
    Maks pulled himself from being to thinking—to applying himself to Katie’s situation. Unlike many Sentinels, he had little in the way of additional talent. He could handle shields; he could create faint boundaries, and knew when those were crossed. He couldn’t heal, or see and manipulate wards, or sense subtle amulets. He had no clear mind-voice—only a few words conveyed with much effort, and the habit of sending impressions and concepts that didn’t always make an impact on the intended recipient.
    Of course, there was the silence. A gift from his early years, born of necessity and seldom used. But not even the best tracker—using Sentinel gifts or Atrum Core amulets—would discern his psychic scent if he went silent.
    It wasn’t likely to be of any use in the protection of Katie Maddox. His mouth twitched; he returned his full attention to her, finding her paused and waiting, fully aware of his wandering thoughts.
    She pointed through the windshield. “This is where I started. The road turns into a trail...cuts through to the forest land. Bikers, hikers, horseback riders...it’s a trickle this time of year. You never know when someone might toss a cigarette, so I cleared out the deadfall—but the stuff near the house...” She shrugged, shoulders eloquent. “That job has always been bigger than I am.”
    “But you’ve worked on it,” he said, seeing the signs. Areas where the smaller trees had been thinned, the space between them cleaned of the ladder fuels that would leapfrog a fire straight to the house.
    “I love this place,” she said simply, looking down at hands that, indeed, bore calluses; she probably didn’t even know about the smile curving her mouth, or the way it brushed light into her eyes. “After the Chediski-Rodeo fire pushed right up against this town...” She brushed her hands off. “Well, I may not be able to do it all, but I’d be a fool not to try.”
    “Is that what you thought when you contacted brevis for help?” Maks asked. “Only that you would be a fool not to try?”
    She’d reached for her door latch. Now she let the door finish its opening arc, but made no move to get out of the car. Her face had stilled. No smile, no light. And no flinching. She studied his face a moment, and then nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Because I couldn’t not try. No matter what I expect.”
    Maks had never learned the art of layered conversation; it wasn’t in his nature or his nurture. Not when survival meant clear action and clear communication. “I don’t know what you expect, ” he said. “But you asked for help. I’m here to give it.”
    She laughed, short but light. “Your cleared field profile is a study in contradictions and things unsaid. But it