“You need a doctor. You’re bleeding,” John said in a shaky voice. He pressed his finger to an earpiece. “Send down a med team.”

Yes sir, came the tinny reply.

Daniel glanced at his clothing. With the rush of adrenaline, he hadn’t noticed his own injuries. Ronald’s claws had done a number on his suit, for sure, and every tattered edge was soaked with crimson.

But the wounds were already closing, and by the time a physician looked him over, he’d be none the worse for wear.

“It’s not my blood,” Daniel said quickly. “All his. He just got my suit.” He stripped off the ruined coat and shirt, removing the visual proof that he’d been badly clawed.

John frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Luckiest quarter inch of my life.” Hopefully John wouldn’t push the issue.

“Dan. What the fuck is that thing?”

Daniel puffed his cheeks and wondered how much to tell his boss. “Damned if I know,” he said at last. “Not human. That’s for sure.”

John circled the tiger’s body. “The security team notified me. No one knew what to do.”

“You did enough. But he didn’t stay dead when I shot him, and I want the body in an incinerator. And the ashes separated.”

“Jesus. You think he’d regenerate? What is he, fucking tiger Dracula?”

Daniel shrugged. “He’s dead. Contract fulfilled.”

John shook his head, his eyes amazed. “I’d say so.”

It didn’t take long to handle Ronald’s body. Daniel tossed the remains into the incinerator himself as a small crowd looked on. The story of the were-tiger had spread like wildfire.

“The money will be in your account in a few days,” John promised him. He held out his hand for Daniel to shake. “I suppose you’re on vacation for a bit?”

“Don’t call me for twelve months,” Daniel said with a faint grin. A few minutes later, he was down the stairs and in a cab, on his way to the train station.

Letting out a breath, he tipped his head back onto the seat and closed his eyes. The whole thing had been too close for comfort.

The entire day had passed in the city, and it was dark by the time he got back home. Daniel stopped in at the local Chinese place, grabbing sweet and sour pork and eggrolls to go. Junk food and Netflix sounded like the perfect follow up to a tiger attack. The fact that his maker had been alive all this time was a mental can of worms he wasn’t quite ready to open.

Daniel paused on his porch and stared up at the flickering light. He’d left it off that morning…or so he’d thought. After a moment, he gave a mental shrug and unlocked the door.

Daniel stepped into the darkness, closing the door behind him before flipping the light switch. A quick fffft of air, a sharp pain…and the floor rose up to meet him before the world went black.

* * *

“He’s still out. We made a mistake.”

“No mistake. The audio confirms it. He’s one of them.”

Daniel blinked, the world swimming. His body was heavy, his mind clouded and slow. He felt hot, the room stifling.

Halos of colored light wavered before his eyes, everything too bright to make out. One of the shapes came closer, taking on vaguely human features.

“He’s coming around.”

Fingers pried open his eyelids. Daniel groaned as the sun itself pierced one eye and then the other.

“Pupils are dilated.”

“Daniel?”

The fingers let go, and Daniel blinked to clear the mist. John stood before him, a frown on his face and hands clasped behind his back. “Are you awake, son?”

Words were difficult. Daniel’s tongue felt thick, his mouth dry and hard to maneuver.

Something brushed his lips. “Drink,” a voice urged.

A straw. A moment later he was gulping, the cool liquid like nectar on his parched throat. They took it away much too soon, and within seconds he was thirsty again.

“Cue it up,” John’s voice said.

“Daniel. Hey. How about we talk about you trying to kill me?”

Audio. They had the fucking audio.

“Let’s.”

“So. You must have questions. No? Wow. Man of few words, huh?”

“Who is Ronald Atkins?” John asked, his voice topping the playback that was filling the space.

“A mark,” Daniel said with difficulty. “The man I was hired to kill.”

“Who else?”

“Maybe I’m Ronald’s twin. That ever occur to you?”

“Fuck you.”

“You know why you’re here, Daniel.”

John walked a slow half circle around Daniel, who was finally aware of his surroundings. They’d chained him up and manacled his wrists to a concrete wall. They’d left him with his boxers, but little else. “Where’s here?”

The audio went on. “That means there’s no way to kill me either, shithead.”

“Pause it.” John lifted one hand.

Daniel scowled, his mood going black. No sound, Blondie had told him. Lying bitch.

John wandered close, his eyes like flint as he narrowed them at Daniel. “What are you?”

“A hitman,” Daniel said through clenched teeth.

John extended a hand. One of his cronies gave him a blade. “So…if I do this…”

The tip of the knife sliced into Daniel’s ribs. Daniel grimaced, biting back the pain. He knew what John would see. Within seconds, the wound would heal, the trickles of blood the only evidence he’d been harmed.

“What the fuck are you.” It wasn’t a question; John’s tone brooked no argument. Daniel’s cat rose, a simmering anger building within him. He glowered, his fingers curling into fists.

John stepped back, the color draining from his cheeks.

Fuck! Daniel shut his eyes, doing his best to calm his tiger. His eyes must have given him away, just as Ronald’s had. “I’m no danger,” he said after a moment. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

John turned to the few others in the room. “Get out,” he barked. They scurried, seeming only too glad to do so.

The door clicked shut, and John crept forward. “You’re a tiger, just like he was,” he breathed. “Aren’t you.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“How?”

The strength bled from Daniel’s body. He sagged. What was the point of denying it? They had him on tape. His own words had confirmed the truth.

“Nineteen years ago, I was walking home after work,” he began in a wooden voice. “It was late. I was a bouncer at a club, and the hours weren’t nine-to-five.” He took a breath. “I got jumped in an alley. I fought back, but there were two of them, and one of them had a baseball bat. But I took one of them down, and then this guy showed up…Ronald.”

“Did he shift right there?” John sounded like a kid on Christmas morning, which was sickening.

“He grabbed the second guy around the neck,” Daniel went on, “and then suddenly, the fight was over. I was out of it, didn’t really know what was happening. I thanked him, but then he bit me. Not just bit me; that’s a fucking understatement. He hurt me.”

John’s eyes hadn’t blinked in at least a minute. “Holy shit.”

“He tore up my shoulder,” Daniel continued. “Things get hazy after that. There’s flashes that I remember. I think I passed out, but then when I woke up, he was still there, and…I attacked him. As a tiger. For a long time I thought it was a dream, but after I figured it out…anyway, I thought I killed him. Clearly I didn’t.”

“Jesus.”

“I must have passed out again after that. Morning came, I woke up, and the cops were there. I wasn’t dead. I thought I’d dreamed it…so I went home to—” he cut himself off. There was no reason to tell John about his wife.

“Jesus Christ,” John whispered. “Then what?”

Daniel shrugged. “I figured it out about four months later. I was at work, and some prick pissed me off. Before I knew what was happening, I’d put claws through his throat. As you’ve seen, it isn’t always a complete shift. I quit bouncing after that. I was too afraid I’d hurt someone else.”

John shook his head slowly. “No full moons, or anything like that?”

Daniel snorted. “Uh, no. I’m not a wolf. I’m a tiger.”

“So, are there wolves out there, too? Werewolves?”

“Maybe? I mean, who’s ever heard of a were-tiger?” Daniel shrugged. “I guess there could be wolves, but I’ve only ever met Ronald. He mentioned Texas, though. So there’s other tigers out there, that much I do know.”

John was silent for a moment. “This is how you do it, isn’t it? How you don’t leave traces?”

Daniel gave a slow nod. “Tigers don’t leave human footprints.”

“But there’s never anything in the reports about any prints. No feet, no fingerprints, no…paws.”

“Trees. Water. I can jump and climb.” Now that he was confessing, he saw no reason not to admit everything. “I’m best in the wilderness. Lots of trees to jump around in. Cops don’t investigate tree branches.”

“And the healing?”

“Yeah. Not much hurts me.”

John’s eyes had gotten very focused. “Daniel…this is amazing. Do you know what this could do for us?”

Daniel tensed.

“You said it yourself. You can’t be killed.”

“No, I can,” Daniel corrected. “You saw how we killed Ronald.”

John gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “Bullets. Knives. You’re basically indestructible against regular humans.”

Daniel’s fists tightened, the tips of his claws scratching against his palms. This didn’t sound like something he wanted to hear.

“How did he change you? What’s the process? He bit you?”

Daniel’s mouth dried, his chest suddenly tight. “Why do you want to know?"

“You said you woke up the next morning and the cops were there. So, what, it’s a few hours for the change to happen?”

“What the fuck are you getting at, John?”

John Dearborn’s eyes glittered as he leaned in. “You’re about to start your own pack. Is that what it’s called? A tiger pack?”

“No,” Daniel rasped. “Fuck, no! John, this isn’t a good thing. It’s a fucking curse. I’m not changing anyone.”

“Come on, Daniel!” John began to laugh. “Think of it! Healing. Anonymity. Do you know, I have two men in critical condition right now? They could have died. We’ve lost a lot of guys over the years. It’s expensive. You’d be saving people.”

“We’re hired killers,” Daniel growled. “Saving us, so we can kill others?”

“Someone wants them dead,” John replied, his voice passionless. “If they don’t pay us to do it, they’ll pay someone else.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m changing anyone.”

John took a casual step forward. “You will. You’ll start with me.”

“No.”

John unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, followed by his undershirt. “Okay. I’ll unlock you, and you bite me.”

“Why the fuck are you not getting this? No, goddammit!”

At last, the words seemed to sink in. “No?”

“Jesus, John! This is insane. There’s no way I’m turning you. You have a wife. Kids. You don’t want this.”

“But if I have this, I can protect them,” John argued. “I can protect them better than I do now. No one would dare touch them.”

Daniel swallowed, his throat closing as he remembered the night his wife had died. He shook his head, the words refusing to come out.

John’s expression darkened. “You will do this. Or you won’t leave.”

“Bolt the fucking door, then,” Daniel snarled.

Picking up his clothing, John glared at Daniel as he strode to the door. He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Can I get you anything? Food? Water?” He stared Daniel down, his eyes like steel. “Just ring if you need anything. You know what you have to do to get it.” With that, he vanished through the exit, flipping off the lights as he went.

Daniel was left in the dark, his heart pounding and his breath ragged. No. He wouldn’t change anyone.

One monster in New York was more than enough.