Tropical Tiger Spy (Shifting Sands Resort 1)
She took his offered hand, and wasn't sure it was only politeness that prompted her to try to act enthused about it.
The study was a shock that took all of her acting ability to hide.
Taxidermied animals and pelts filled the cavernous room. A tiger's skin sprawled across a portion of the floor, and Amber thought immediately of Tony.
“My grandfather's collection,” Alistair said, unsettlingly close to her ear. “Of course that was colonial times, when the hunt wasn't illegal, and many of these weren't even endangered. People would even say it was immoral, but times were very different then.”
“Of course,” Amber said weakly.
“Come, this is not what I really wanted you to see.”
He led her through the dim room, and Amber tried not to startle at the soul-less gaze of a stuffed gazelle, or the bear caught mid-roar beside it.
Alistair unlocked a sturdy wooden door with another keypad, and led her out into the warm night air. The dining room had not had windows, so Amber was surprised to realize that it was quite late. Crickets and frogs made a now-familiar drone, and a silvery moon hung in a field of glittering stars. Far away, a seabird cried hauntingly and went still.
They walked into a garden, edged with very tall fencing that after a moment, Amber recognized as cages. She was alarmed, but not as surprised as she should have been when two guards from the door fell in step behind her.
“Much of my collection is nocturnal,” Alistair said, and Amber could hear the excited pride in his voice. This was something he very much wanted to share with her, and it filled her with dread.
The first enclosure, a landscaped habitat with artful trees and a little hill with lounging rocks, proved to hide a small, agile ocelot, who jumped down from a branch to stare at them from behind the metal mesh. Amber, looking back at it, felt an odd connection. Maybe it was because she felt like she was being trapped as surely as it was.
“My father was the one who started this collection,” Alistair said, leading her further down the path. “He recognized the limitations of taking the skins of these... animals, and began trapping them instead.”
“You've continued his legacy, then,” Amber said, trying to keep conversation casual. The next animal was a pacing tiger, white and black stripes rippling over agitated muscle. It roared as they walked past; Alistair gave no time to pause and observe. They passed a spotted deer that Amber didn't recognize, and a glass enclosure of little, thick-furred mammals. Each enclosure was carefully crafted for its residents. Amber was reminded of the best zoos.
“I've improved upon it,” Alistair said proudly. “I've found some of the rarest and most precious animals, most of them just in the last few years. We've got a Borneo Bay cat,” he said, his British accent pronounced. “Have you ever seen one?”
“I haven't,” Amber admitted reluctantly. She was aware that her steps were slowing, and that her surreptitious glances for an exit or escape were becoming less subtle than she could wish.
“They aren't the rarest cat,” Alistair said leadingly, and Amber couldn't hide her terror any longer. She came to a stop, and turned to find that only one of the guards behind her had his gun at ready. The other had a long-handled dog-catcher.
“Oh?” she said, incapable of anything more clever.
“I've been looking for an Andean mountain cat for a very long time,” he said seductively. “And I think you'll be very happy in the enclosure I've made for you.”
“Those skins in the study,” Amber said with a sudden sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Were those all shifters?”
“Of course!” Alistair said in that accent that Amber couldn't hear as anything but terrifying now. “What sport is there in normal animals?”
She was spared having to answer that by a sudden, blaring alarm, just as the cellphone in Alistair's pocket came to life. He gestured to the guards behind them, and Amber couldn't get her frozen feet to move before the dog-catcher was dropped loosely around her neck.
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“Show our guest to her new quarters,” Alistair said lightly, as if there weren't a gun trained at her and a noose laying on her shoulders. “My dear, I hope you will forgive my lack of hospitality in showing you myself, but I have to deal with a slight problem at the perimeter.”
He disappeared down a side path, and Amber was left with the guards, who prodded her into a staggering walk towards her doom.
Chapter Eighteen
Tony ran.
As a tiger, he was an efficient machine of muscle and energy, and the jungle, unexpectedly, felt like home.
The jungle floor was springy, and surprisingly free of underbrush. Above him, tangled branches hid the night sky. Even with keen cat night vision, it was dark, and the drone of insects and frogs was like an ambient soundtrack to keep his pace.
His race at first was sheer adrenaline, but settled quickly into a punishing pace that ate the ground beneath him.
It was easy to follow the ridge as Scarlet had suggested, keeping to the high areas. It was steep here, and the land fell away from him on either side.