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© All characters and storylines surrounding these characters belong to me, Eben Black..

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Half an hour later we were in Bishop's 4x4. I was sat up front with the man himself, while Kane was lounged in the back. We had changed, explained the situation to Bishop and were armed, headed for where the rampaging tiger's last known location was. Sense of smell alone would lead us to the weretiger's location if he was close by. Bishop had been all too pleased to leave his station. He headed up security for the penthouse. He made sure no one had access to the place where the wolves lived together. He had a small squadron of wolves who worked under him. Daniel was one of his surbordinates. Bishop had made sure the penthouse was cared for while he helped us out. He had even borrowed me a weapon in the event I needed one. I had basic hand-to-hand training, and had even started doing specialised throws and grapples with Bishop. One of the security wolves happened to be ex-SAS and had learned some throws that he claimed could break bones if required. I had taken him by his word and followed his teachings.

Bishop believed going hand-to-hand with a feral wereanimal was a bad idea, so he'd handed me a handgun. He'd called it a GLOCK 37 .45 G.A.P. Or G37 for short. The handgun was equipped with silver-plated bullets, an ammo-type that would be enough to subdue a feral wereanimal if the shots were not headshots or hit organs of importance. I'd had training with guns, but had yet to wield one in an actual gunfight. He'd handed me a holster that I now had fastened around me, at the base of my spine. The GLOCK fit fine and secure, I could reach down and draw it without hassle, my wolven clawed hands fit the weapon right. Bishop had had all weapons on site customised so he could hand them to werewolves if needed. Normal guns were usual in our clawed hands.

I sat in the front passenger seat, one foot propped up on the dashboard of the 4x4. I'd decided that for this "assignment" to wear a pair of loose denim jeans, a black leather belt, a black tank top and a chequered black and white dress shirt that was unbuttoned and covered the gun at the base of my spine. I'd donned black boots that had enough grip for me to handle most terrains too. Kane had come dressed like an assassin. He was in black, a black, long sleeved shirt, a pair of black jeans, black boots and his hair bound back out of his sight. He'd refused a gun when Bishop had offered and when asked what he'd use, Kane turned up to the 4x4 with a katana sheathed in a scabbard. He held the blade in hand like he knew how to wield it. From what I gathered, Kane had also customised the Japanese traditional weapon with a very high percentage of silver. He'd said it was fifty-two percent silver. He sat back on the leather of the back seat. He had slouched down, the sword propped up on the seat over one shoulder as he gazed out the 4x4's window.

Bishop had come wielding a small arsenal. He'd disarmed most of it when I assured him we were bringing the weretiger home, either alive or unconscious. So now he sat in the driver's seat, following the SAT-NAV, he'd hidden all that aged fur beneath a black T-shirt, and camouflage trousers, a pair of dark brown hiking boots and a pair of shades covered those old eyes of his. He'd equipped a shoulder holster with his own GLOCK strapped and holstered as he drove. He turned a bend and we were navigating along the warehouse roads, scanning them and keeping an eye out for anything striped and dangerous looking.

"And Nico refused to acknowledge the rogue?" Bishop continued as he drove on, slowing down at each gap between the buildings.

"According to Daniel, Nico is saying the tiger has nothing to do with him."

"A rogue tiger that isn't a member of his animal group then?" Bishop suggested.

"It looks that way. But it doesn't change the fact Nico is in no pursuit of peace, if he's letting this happen in his hometown," I replied.

"What a bastard."

"That's our Nico for you." Kane grinned as he spoke. He touched a hand to the sheathed katana. Was he excited about the danger?

"What kind of tiger are we looking for?" Bishop asked as we turned a bend. There was a sudden rush of movement, the 4x4 jutted to a holt, and a white and black blur slammed into the bonnet and launched off in one fell swoop. The weretiger scrambled across the rooftop, launched across the road, skidded across the ground and sprang through a warehouse door, disappearing into the shadows. How could something like that break one of those huge metallic shutters like that? I swallowed hard as we exited the 4x4 and crossed the road, weapons in hand. Bishop and I hid our guns at our sides, Kane walked ahead, unsheathing that katana one-handed as he went. I had a sudden moment of fear. Kane was sparring for a fight, and we were about to corner a wild animal. The thing that frightened me the most was the expression Kane had. Excited he may have been, but he looked solemn with one hand bracing himself on the gaping hole through that shutter as he stepped inside. I waited as Kane stepped into the shadows. Bishop then stepped in and hit a switch along one wall. A light sprang to life at one end of the warehouse, the other light refused to spark to life, half the warehouse bathed in shadowed darkness. A deep growl echoed from the depths of those shadows.

"Surround the thing. Its cowered, but prepped for a brawl," Bishop advised. Kane remained where he was, while Bishop and I walked along either side.

"Bishop, can't we sedate the thing?" I asked.

"Sedatives won't work. Wereanimal metabolism works the drugs through our systems too fast. It would slow the thing down, but for about three seconds," Bishop explained.

"So what do we do then?" I looked confused now. I'd assumed we'd gas the thing and be done with it.

Before anyone could answer there was a rush of movement. The thing was fast. It launched at Bishop and was almost there, it pounced, springing from the shadows. As dangerous as the beast was, I'd never seen something so beautiful. The weretiger stood at around six foot six, he was all muscle and tone, definition and God-like qualities. Pale blue eyes held a furious shimmer as it targeted Bishop. A long, thick, striped tail cracked like a whip, a pair of tattered denim jeans was all that spared the weretiger's modesties. He'd torn the top half when he'd maddened it seemed. Claws flexed as the beast aimed for Bishop's throat. The thing outweighed Bishop easily, and would have slaughtered him had Kane not stepped in. Kane was just suddenly there, between Bishop and the beast. He swung one hand out, there was a flash of silver steel, and blood flew in a slender arc and spattered the ground. The tiger careened backwards, as a small gash blossomed across its shoulder. It landed, crouched on all fours, snarling angrily, while glaring at Kane. Kane regained his stance and held the blade behind him two-handed. It had been a minor cut, but the high silver percentage must have been a bastard on bare flesh.

The tiger crouched lower for a split second and then with a rush of speed was in front of Kane again. Kane swung horizontal, and was surprised when the beast ducked below the attack and slammed Kane hard with its shoulder. In a blaze of brutal strength Kane was thrown aside. As he slammed against the far wall, the beast loomed over Bishop and slammed a palm into the wolf's muzzle. Bishop cried out, but swung his gun up and fired point blank. Two bullets sank into the tiger's abdomen, but the beast continued leering, mouth stretched wide. I raised the gun one-handed and fired three times, each bullet sank into the creature's back as it reared in immediate pain. The tiger's focus was on me, as it swiped Bishop and sent the aged wolf careening across the concrete floor and into the broken shutters. The beast rushed me and was suddenly airborne. I did what I'd practiced in combat training and raised both arms, I caught the creature's bulk and fell back. I let the momentum carry and pushed hard as the beast flung overhead. In all the movement there was a dull flicker that ignited inside me. A flame of some kind awakened, as I launched the tiger overhead and into the wall behind me. It slid to the ground and growled at me. Something had changed. I rolled away and turned as I landed on one knee, I had the gun raised but that flame inside me rose in the shadowed depths and burned brighter and brighter.

What was happening? The weretiger looked at me, and that first slither of humanity, of itelligence returned. The blue eyes turned from bestial anger to a gentle confusion. The beast slouched and pressed his back against the wall. Kane was suddenly standing between me and the weretiger, blade tense in one hand. His other arm looked bruised and battered it seemed. The tiger touched a hand to his head and groaned like a man waking with a hangover. I lowered the gun. Whatever had happened was now over. I holstered the gun, and touched a hand to Kane's shoulder. He looked at me and in that moment we agreed with one another. He nodded to me and then went to Bishop as the older wolf growled and lifted himself up off the concrete ground. I paced toward the tiger, but stayed out of reach. I don't know what it was, but for some reason I knew deep down this weretiger was gentle, harmless. Blue eyes that looked beautiful like the caribbean sea, shimmered with an apologetic sadness.

I considered the tiger for a moment and then smiled warmly. I said, "My name's Eben Black. What's your name?"

"Snow." His voice was deep, all male. The power that he'd honed earlier had disappeared, and now he was a gentle giant.

"Where did you come from, Snow?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Do you know what made you act like this?"

"I don't know."

"Do you remember anything before you rampaged?" I raised an eyebrow as I spoke.

"I seriously don't know." He groaned and touched the other hand to his head, holding them while he slid down and sat on the concrete floor, huddled in his own memories.

"Do you have family? Friends? Someone who is probably looking for you?" I asked. I crouched before the weretiger and saw tears spill from those beautiful eyes.

"I don't know."

"Everything alright?" Bishop growled. Kane was holding him up, blade still in hand. He looked as confused as I was.

"His name's Snow, and that's all he remembers."

"Amnesia?" Bishop asked.

"Its probable. If he's indeed one of the wereanimals being maddened and sent on randomised massacres, then we don't know what will happen when he regains his humane side." I considered Snow again.

"H-How did I get here?" Snow stammered, tears burned in those cerulean eyes.

"We don't know, Snow. Do you know a tiger named Nico?" I asked.

Snow slowly shook his head and cowered again behind his knees as he peered across at me, a gentle sadness about him. "Is he someone important?"

I nodded. "He's the alpha weretiger of LA, but he has no idea who you are either."

"So I have noone here?" he asked.

"Looks that way. But we'll look after you while we figure these things out." I held a hand out for the weretiger to take. He considered me for a moment and then slowly took my hand.

I gasped as that flame inside me burned harder and heavier. I held the tiger's hand, those warm fingers smoothed across my own hand as we stood up together. He held my hand for a brief moment, and then out of nowhere that tall, hulking mass of power and muscle, leaned down and touched his lips to mine. I should have panicked. I should have pushed him back. But I stood there, and allowed him to do what he wanted. I could feel the astonishment of Kane and Bishop behind me. The kiss deepened but then something inside me pushed back and I let go of him. I looked down and touched my forehead to his bare furred chest. A deep growl crawled up my throat, while dull purrs rapped throughout his muscled chest. He stood there, not moving forward but not moving back. An understanding was what we had. But what had lead us there? What was this metaphorical flame that burned so heavy when I looked at this feline? I took a deep breath and stepped back.

"Lets head back. I need to speak with Donovan. Now!" I demanded as I strolled toward the warehouse shutters. I crawled through and made to move for the 4x4 when a large hand encircled my own. I stopped. I looked back and found the weretiger gazing down at me. There was a compassion there, that gentle sadness still burned in that sea of blue, but a harmless compassion shimmered there too. He trusted me. He trusted me? A total stranger trusted me, and for some unknown reason I felt the same way. I never yanked my hand back, I smiled weakly and confused, the tiger beamed back, even that seemed somehow...cute. Cute! Was I attracted to him? He was attractive, there was no doubt. But to have such an effect on me after the first few minutes of meeting. Even when I thought about his feral side I still thought that was beautiful. I shivered and looked down as I walked for the 4x4.

Kane drove us back in silence, with Snow riding shotgun. I sat behind Kane, while Bishop huddled, bruised but not wounded beside me. He was aged, and seemed to have slowed in old age considering what he was. All of us had those days where we were sapped of strength regardless of age. I didn't push for an answer, I had my own issues now. He never looked at me, but Snow's pressence there made me wanted to lean over and touch his arm, one of his shoulders. Maybe even swap seats with Bishop and cuddle him over the back of his seat. What was happening to me? I needed Donovan. I needed to speak with Donovan now! This was insane.