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recognized the scent immediately. He was a Were.
Where had he come from? He was bleeding profusely and breathing heavily.
    “It’s okay, big guy.” Karabi pulled off her scarf and
pressed it against the wound on the cat’s side. “I’ve got you.”
    The tiger opened his eyes and looked up at her, sad and
pained, and she gasped at how steel-gray and familiar they were. Then the striped
beast gently put his paw in her hand—as if to hold it—and chuffed in
contentment, and she was almost certain.
    This injured Werecat was Alex McClellan.

Chapter Six
     
    Karabi watched the tiger in his sleep. Fortunately his
wounds weren’t too severe. She had given him a thorough check as soon as they’d
brought him into the zoo’s recovery room three days ago, stitched and bandaged
him up, given him some antibiotics and pain meds. It was a good thing they had
the big-cat experts onboard helping Musaka and Kimba. Karabi had everything she
needed. She’d insisted on taking care of this animal by herself in an isolated
room, much to the chagrin of the already stressed and overburdened medical
staff, but they had given in to her passionate demand. Karabi couldn’t risk
Alexander transforming back into a human in front of them. The scandal that
would cause—not to mention the feathers that would be ruffled amongst the
Pride—would be not be good.
    If this really was Alex.
    After the attack in the alley, animal control had shown up,
ready to capture a wild animal. They’d sedated the tiger, lifted him into the
wagon and allowed Karabi to sit in the back with him. She’d used the
opportunity to cover the tiger with a blanket and kept whispering to him to
remain in feline form, hoping he would hear and understand if he was indeed who
she thought. When he didn’t respond with even the movement of his head or a
twitch of his whiskers and just stared back at her with the dazed look of an
injured and drugged kitty, she wondered if she was right about this animal’s
identity after all.
    That was on Friday, over forty-eight hours ago. It was now
Monday and the tiger was still just a tiger—albeit an unusually large one with
gray eyes that seemed to possess extraordinary intelligence. He was confused
and scared, and although he eagerly drank water, he seemed reluctant to eat.
Whether this tiger was a shape-shifter or not, if he didn’t eat more soon he
wasn’t ever going to get better. Meanwhile, Alexander McClellan was still
missing. It was getting late in the morning and he hadn’t shown up to work yet.
Very unusual for him and not a good look.
    Karabi told the Operations Manager, Kevin, that Alex had
gotten ill at the ball from something he’d eaten and she suspected he was still
sick and just hadn’t managed to call yet. She was sure he’d call soon, she’d
told Kevin. She quietly hoped one of two things would happen today—either Alex
would be calling them any minute to say he was actually lying in some hospital
bed somewhere…or this cat really was Alex and he would be feeling well enough
to shift back to human, with some coaxing from Karabi, any minute now.
    And Karabi was really hoping scenario number two was
the correct one. Before animal control had come to the scene on Friday she’d
hurried back to collect the clothes she’d found in the Willis Tower elevator
and outside on the ground. When she found the phone in the pants pocket and
checked it, she discovered that it was indeed Alex’s phone. So if this cat
wasn’t Alex—just too injured to shift back to human form—then Alex might be
somewhere in serious trouble and she hadn’t the foggiest idea of where to look
or who she would go to for help.
    She’d kept the tiger sedated most of the weekend. Every time
he woke he was famished. He’d start to devour the food she’d laid out for him
but soon he’d freak out and swipe and roar angrily at the dish as if he
couldn’t believe what he’d just eaten. The other staff members would come
running to see if she