you’ve accomplished your mission. The tiger looks very tame. Perhaps it’s time we leave?”
You sighed and the animal rolled onto its back, still with its head in your lap. You reached down to rub its stomach with your hands submerged in its thick white fur. Your neck was just inches from the tiger’s mouth, its hot breath ghosting your face. Without much effort, the cat could easily tear out your throat. What if it was only luring you into complacency?
“Vincent,” I begged quietly. My nerves were raw, and my throat was thick with emotion. You were only a few feet away, close enough that I could reach out and grab you.
But the tiger was closer.
“I don’t want to leave him. He’s not happy here. He can’t even hunt for his food.”
You’d said the same thing when Santiago belled your cats. Were you projecting your own feelings about your situation?
“Come along, come along, come along.”
You gave the tiger one last long stroke along its sternum, then gingerly removed its head from your lap. When you stood, your clothes were coated in tufts of fur. I’d been prepared to wrestle the animal with my bare hands if it came to it, but the tiger seemed utterly tame as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss between its ears. I bit my tongue so as not to disrupt whatever thrall you’d cast.
“I’ll visit again soon,” you promised the tiger.
Over my dead body.
When you were within my reach, I hauled you into my arms and sprinted all the way to the moat. I jumped in gracelessly and strode across it. On the other side of the fenced enclosure, I set you down carefully and struggled to catch my breath.
Xavier laid into you with uncharacteristic fervor, and I let him because you should have known better. By the end of his tirade, both you and he were sobbing. Xavier hugged you so tightly the flesh of your arms dimpled from his grip. Meanwhile, I’d collapsed on a bench and was fading in and out of lucidity while trying to stave off a panic attack. Even in my line of work, I hadn’t experienced that kind of terror in years.
Not since the last time Lena had threatened your life.
6
Henri
“Was it in his journal?” Santiago demanded. I could always determine the man’s state of mind by the condition of his hair, and at the moment, his carefully coifed style was in utter disarray.
Xavier had called him home that afternoon to discuss the incident with the tiger while you played in the yard. We were in their living room, reviewing your journal while I kept a close eye on you and the fence that enclosed the property.
“Nothing.” Xavier scanned through the last couple of entries.
As soon as you’d been able to articulate your dreams, I’d suggested keeping a dream journal. It was now part of your morning ritual with Xavier to record what you could recall from the night before. I’d also insisted on meditation being part of your daily regimen, usually before bed so that you could wind down and rest easy. It was one way to connect with the spiritual realm while being grounded in the physical one, and it laid the foundation for developing your powers.
It also allowed for long-buried memories to surface, and I was on the lookout for those as well.
“It says here in his last entry, ‘the grapes are starting to ripen, and Mater says we can pick them soon.’ Nothing about a tiger or the zoo or taming a cat.”
“He must have left it out on purpose.” I glanced worriedly to where you lay on a blanket in the shade, reading one of your favorite books with your cats lounging around you like ladies-in-waiting.
“Perhaps he’s only blaming it on her?” Xavier suggested. “Because he knew he’d get in trouble?”
“Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. The two of them discussed it, Santiago asking for details he’d already been given, while I formed a plan for making contact with Lena. She’d refused all of my summons, but I doubted she’d refuse you. By joining you in dreams, I could at least see where you went in your subconscious mind and make sure it was psychologically safe. I suggested the idea to your parents and outlined what it would take to accomplish it. Santiago offered to notify Azrael of my hiatus from duty, for I doubted this feat could be accomplished in just one night.
That occasion marked the beginning of our dream sharing. It helped