Page 21 of Ignited

He absolutely did not. But he’d always been a guy who followed his instincts—okay, crazy impulses—and he figured now wasn’t the time to stop.

“Hey,” he said to the tiger. “Focus. This is what we’re gonna do. You’re going to Change back to human, and tell me where you need to go, and I’m going to get you there. Okay?”

He reached out to her with his mind, the way he’d done when he’d followed her—the way he did with his brother when his wolf went all wonky.

He felt his bond with her click in, faster this time. We’re pack, he told her tiger. I know you’re all about that epic loner shit, but that’s not how it works with us. We work together. Protect each other. Help each other. Get used to it.

Slowly, the growls faded. Her gaze grew questioning, uncertain. Almost… longing.

Then she shook all over, her fur shimmered, and suddenly she was human, crouched in front of him, her face between his hands.

For one moment she stared into his eyes—into his soul. She whispered, “How the hell did you do that?”

And then she pulled her head away and vomited on the snowy ground.

Karisma had to admit that once in a while—maybe a lot—she’d fantasized about running into Boomer again. Like maybe when she was at some fancy James Bond type party, dressed to the nines and looking hot as fuck—assuming that she ever went to places like that.

She had definitely not imagined being naked in the snow, puking her guts out. But this was her life.

She felt his hands at her neck, holding back her hair. “You’re fine,” her murmured. “Everything’s fine.”

Liar. Everything was fucked all to hell. But his hands felt good—warm and comforting. He raised his head and looked over at his brother. “For fuck’s sake. Where’s the other clothes?”

The brother jumped out of the back of the truck and walked over, his arms full. Boomer said to her, “Here, can you stand up?”

Karisma waited a minute to see if she was going to barf again. It didn’t seem like it, so she climbed unsteadily to her feet, and then immediately wished she was sitting down.

Boomer took an army-green shirt from the top of the pile his brother held, and helped her slip her arms into it, even buttoning it for her. The rough fabric rubbed against the angry wound on her arm, where the dart had gone in. Karisma shivered. Everything still looked blurry around the edges. What the hell had they put on that thing?

She put the pants on, annoyed that she had to lean heavily on Boomer for that too. She shook his hands off and walked over to the truck, where a pair of boots and socks sat side by side on the tailgate. With difficulty, she hiked herself up there to put them on. She hated feeling so helpless.

Hated. It.

“I can pay you,” she said, her voice coming out a croak.

“For what?” Boomer asked.

“For helping me.” That made her feel better. Payment was quid pro quo. It meant she was still in charge.

Boomer’s brother snorted.

Karisma went on, “I need to get back to my cabin, and my car is at the fight club.” She looked from one of them to the other. “I need to get back there now. Like I said, I can pay you.”

She finished tying her boots and jumped off the tailgate. Mistake. Vertigo swirled over her, and she almost fell.

Boomer caught her. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, but his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Just tell us what’s going on.” He touched her arm lightly, over the wound. “I saw the magic.” His touch seemed to soothe the pain, just a little.

Somehow, she found herself spilling everything. Mostly everything. “Short version—that sorcerer that held me captive in Colorado, back when me met? Poured too much magic in me for too long, and it fucked me up. There’s a potion that keeps me level. I should have taken it after the fight, but it’s stuck at the fight club with the rest of my stuff. I have one more dose in the cabin.”

Boomer frowned. “What happens if you don’t get it?”

“Tiger,” she said wearily. “For weeks, maybe. And I can’t let that happen. I’m this close to—” She broke off as another wave of dizziness rolled over her.

“It’s too complicated to explain.” She turned to Boomer. “Are you going to help me or not? Because if I fucking have to go tiger and again and run, I’ll do it and take my chances. Every minute I stand here makes it more likely those guys will get there first.”

Boomer asked, “What does the FBI even want with you?”

“They’re not FBI,” said Karisma and Boomer’s brother at the same time. They looked at each other, startled, and then they both added, “Not all of them, anyway.” Still in chorus.