So why was I sitting here in this woman’s living room?  Simple.  I 
loved Asher.  Truly. Deeply. Madly. And any other word that applied.  
He’d made his affections towards me known last Valentine’s day and my 
life had been a whirlwind of romance and mayhem ever since.  He’d 
moved my son and I to a wonderful apartment in Orlando close to the 
club.  As promised, I had a very generous singing contract at Dark 
Mirror and he’d even surprised me with a full piece orchestra all my 
own to play with.  I couldn’t begin to tell you how wonderful it was 
to work with musicians who KNOW what the music is supposed to sound 
like…basically because they were around when the composer actually 
wrote it. At Asher’s command and for my amazement, one by one my 
dreams evolved into reality.   All except one.  I desperately wanted 
to give back to him.  I wanted to show him how much I loved him in 
return.

What bothered me most was that Asher was Master of the City.  He 
should be surrounded with magnificence befitting his station.  The 
most powerful, intimidating men.  The most exotic women.  Instead, he 
was satisfied retreating to the shadows.  Instead he was stuck with 
me.  I wasn’t exotic.  I was plain.  I was ordinary.  I wasn’t very 
impressive as women go at all with the exception of maybe my voice.  
When I closed my eyes and sang, I was breathtakingly gorgeous.  But 
the song always came to an end.  I always had to open my eyes and as 
soon as I did, I returned to every day little old unimportant me.  It 
was depressing.  Of course, Asher had Tamara and SHE was impressive.  
She was his human servant, which meant that I’d never have a 
connection with him that she did.  She radiated power and she could 
fly.  I can’t fly.  I could barely walk straight.  Asher would always 
shake his head at me and poo-poo my distress, saying that it was 
nothing.  That to him I was one of the most beautiful women in the 
world.  But it was just lover’s bias and I knew it.  Still I 
appreciated him for it and loved him all the more.  

Anyway, I began to set about making myself more impressive, more in 
line with what Asher’s reputation should be.  I had looked into laser 
surgery for my eyes, so I would never have to wear glasses again.  I 
tried several different hairstyles.  I was ALWAYS on a diet.  I even 
went in for a tummy tuck to get rid of my baby belly and breast 
reduction, although THAT was more to ease the pain in my back than 
necessarily for him.  Still, he’d been quite upset over it.  He had 
even walked in and summarily thrown me over his shoulder kicking and 
screaming as we left the clinic.  I was humiliated and embarrassed 
enough to never go back.  I just couldn’t make him see how important 
this was to me.  

The last straw was when we got here to St. Louis to visit with Jean-
Claude and the crew as well as discuss some preliminaries for Kash 
and Luce’s wedding.  Jean-Claude had affectionately embraced Asher.  
He had even looked over Tamara like she was a tempting appetizer, but 
he’d just stared vacantly at me.  There was no expression there at 
all.  He was polite and all, especially when I had been a prop in his 
plans for Anita’s Valentine surprise or just one of Kylie’s friends, 
but I could tell he was hiding his disapproval of the position I had 
taken up in Asher’s life.  I wasn’t up to par with what he wanted for 
his old lover and friend.  It was that first night, sleeping alone in 
one of the guest rooms while Asher spent the evening with Tamara that 
an idea sparked in my mind.  The more I thought it over, the more I 
saw it as my salvation.  I might stand one last chance of bonding 
Asher to myself.  He’d never chosen a permanent Pomme de Sang for 
himself.   And being anemic, I could only offer myself up to him 
every so often.  He was afraid of taking more than that.  It was the 
perfection solution to making me exotic and exceptional.  The only 
question was what flavor.  I DID also have to think about the effects 
on my son.  I couldn’t become a flavor that would devour him when I 
changed.  And I wasn't really interested in being part of a "pack” 
or “pard” or such.  I needed a variety that was known for its 
solitude.  The solution presented herself to a were meeting Anita put 
together and held at the Circus.  Her name was Christine and she was 
a tiger.  Perfect.  Tigers were solitary creatures and that seemed to 
hold true as were-creatures.  

So, here I was, sitting in her living room, calmly discussing what it 
would take for me to be purposefully “infected.”  The quiet strength 
of the woman pierced through her clear eyes as I finished my story.  
She had short, blond hair and was rather well groomed.  She had on a 
clean, neat business skirt suit with simple pumps.  Her visual 
inspection alone was so intimidating, my heart beat hard against my 
chest, I was sure it was giving me away  I set my jaw determined 
though.  I was going to see this through.  I was going to do one 
thing right in my life.  It was a simple sacrifice to offer my 
beloved.  And in the event he ever tired of me, as I was sure he 
eventually would, I would still have the strength to care for my son 
without being……afraid anymore.  

“Please,” I begged, “Will you help me?”  She pursed her lips in 
response, musing and staring intently at me, judging my sincerity no 
doubt.  I had the overwhelming urge to fidget.  Finally, she took in 
a deep, decisive breath through her nose and licked her lips before 
she spoke, “Of course, I would like to help any friend of Lord 
Asher.  Certainly, he has done enough on behalf of our community to 
gain my respect and gratitude.  However, I’m afraid its not certain 
the plan of yours will work.” She conjectured.  “Tiger lycanthropy is 
not one of the easier “infections” to dispatch OR to catch.  You 
might have to sustain a great deal of damage and even then there’s no 
guarantee.  You might just die.”  She was very direct.  “I know.  
It’s a risk I’m willing to take, Christine.” I met her gaze and 
ventured to convince myself as much as her that this is what I truly 
wanted.”

“Well, I am not, ma chanteuse,” came a voice from the door.  
Christine’s demeanor became wary, but she allowed Asher to enter her 
home.  I closed my eyes.  He had found out somehow.  Tamara 
probably.  She objected when I’d first told her.  Although she’d 
probably not actually told him so much as he took a stroll through 
her mind and plucked the information he wanted from her memory 
bank.   “I do not understand this insistence of yours to change 
yourself.  Have I not accepted you just as you are?  Loved you for 
just being yourself?  Why do you wish to change that which I adore 
now?  Do you still doubt my love so much?”  Asher’s eyes glittered in 
the lamplight.  He was guarding his outward expression as he searched 
my face for an answer.  He stood before me and held my cheeks lightly 
between his hands forcing me to meet his gaze.  Once again, I felt 
the delicious pull to drown in those arctic blue eyes. I covered his 
hands with my own and swallowed hard.  “Asher, it is the world that 
you live in, my love.  I know how hard you work to protect me and my 
son, but there will someday come someone or something who does not 
abide by the rules of Dark Mirror.  They will seek to hurt you and 
right now I am your weak link.”

When he would have spoken, I quickly put my fingers to his lips 
quieting him, “Please, my love.  You have done so much, suffered so 
much.  Let me do this for you, for us”  He gently took my fingers, 
kissing each tip in turn before holding it dear against his cheek and 
searching my eyes.  “But you are afraid, Amante de moi.  Even now I 
can smell your fear.  You do not truly want to do this.”  I shook my 
head, desperately seeking the words I needed to convince him once and 
for all this was the best.  “Asher,” I began, gaining some level of 
authority in my voice.  Yeah, I was using the “Mommy” voice on 
him.  “You are Master of the City of Orlando.  You’re entourage 
should always be an impressive show of force worthy of that title.  
It is my duty to strengthen your status when and where I am able.  I 
trust you with my life.  I trust you with my son.  I want you to be 
able to trust me with yours.  You have made me see I am worthy of 
your love, but I wish to be worthy of your trust now.  I want to be 
worthy of you.”  It was the truth from the depths of my heart that 
poured from my lips in that moment.  

After a few tense breaths between us, he closed his eyes seeming to 
agonize for a moment and then slowly nodded.  “If that is truly your 
wish, my beautiful songbird.  I cannot deny you.”  He looked over my 
shoulder at the impassive Christine as she watched the scene play 
before her.  “Christine, I would consider it a favor if you would 
assist ma chanteuse in her efforts.” He said quietly.  I turned and 
leaned against him, watching her meet his gaze in an unspoken 
conversation and finally bowing with her eyes in submission.  “As I 
was telling her earlier.  This may not work, my lord Asher.  She 
could simply die from the damage inflicted.”  He wrapped his arm 
around my shoulders possessively.  “That is why I will remain….to 
insure that does not happen.”  I tried to pull and away and face him 
quickly once more, but he held me fast.  “No Asher, you shouldn’t 
watch.  I don’t want you to see…” my sentence died on my lips and he 
nuzzled my neck just under my earlobe.  I shuddered a bit…whether 
from cold…or fear…or desire, I wasn’t quite sure.  “On that, I will 
not relent, chat.  I am staying and THAT is final”  I relaxed my 
shoulders in defeat.  “Besides, Tamara would kick my butt, as she so 
eloquently puts it, if I even contemplated otherwise.”  I smiled at 
that.  She was a precious friend.  

“There are other considerations at hand.” Christine 
interjected.  “You do not know if by being Asher’s tiger in Orlando, 
you’ll be entering another tiger’s territory.  I am personally not 
aware of one in that area, but then I am not familiar with “all” of 
my kind.”  Asher was getting impatient now.  I could tell by the 
stance he took.  “That can be dealt with in due time.”  Christine 
narrowed her eyes on Ash. “And there is the matter of a sponsor for 
her until she learns to control her “urges.” Her soft voice whispered 
of lethal intelligence.  “There is enough were interaction between my 
camp and Jean-Claude’s that she will be well taken care of.” Asher 
reassured her, his voice took on a deadly quality to it.  It began to 
dawn on me then that either Christine was guarding her territory, 
making sure I wasn’t to become a permanent member of the St. Louis 
scenery or that she wouldn’t be saddled with the responsibility of 
me.  

Once those formalities were done, Christine’s power flared to life in 
the room as if she’d been holding back all this time.  The heat of it 
dried my eyes causing me to blink rapidly and swallow, moistening my 
parched throat.  She gestured towards a back room much like a 
professional executive and Asher put his hands on my upper arms, 
gently urging me forward.  Yes.  I wanted to do this.  I needed to do 
this.  For some reason though, I couldn’t convince my lower lip to 
stop quivering and my legs moved sluggishly.  The room she led us too 
was painted several textures of green and it was empty except for a 
multitude of green plants making it feel reminiscent of a jungle 
hideaway.  The floor had been stripped away and the top soil level 
raised to BE the floor.  The shrubbery had been planted right into 
it.  As I watched stuck to my spot, she closed the door and only lit 
some track lighting that seemed to be hidden around the edges of the 
room behind the greenery.  Then she began removing her clothing, one 
garment at a time and neatly folding each piece into a pile in the 
corner by the door. 

When she turned to face me again, her eyes glowed a brilliant emerald 
green and her body flexed spectacularly.  It continued to contort in 
a horrifying display of transition from human woman to blazing Bengal 
tiger of gargantuan proportions.  My breath caught in my throat and 
my heart fluttered madly in my chest.  The beast before me paced back 
and forth a couple of steps before emitting a terrifying roar.  “Oh 
God,” I prayed as my body shook visibly and uncontrollably.  I 
couldn’t help myself.  I backed into the door absolutely 
petrified.  “Asher,” my voice squeaked.  “Steady dearest.  It won’t 
last much longer,” he answered me.  Then, without warning, the 
creature pounced, hitting me square in the chest with one mighty 
forepaw, dragging my body down to the floor with its claws sunk in 
deep.  I screamed pitifully as another terrible swipe shredded my 
abdomen to ribbons.  My vision blurred red and my fists beat 
uselessly against furred steel.  The tiger wrapped his great jaw 
around my throat and I knew at that moment, I was going to die.  I 
looked Death square in the eye and it had the face of a hungry, 
lusting tiger.  

“Stop!” bellowed Asher, his voice freezing through me in heart-
stopping power.   I could hear an awesome struggle somewhere over my 
head, but I was completely blind, drenched in my own blood.  I 
struggled to take a breath and kept getting a warm liquid seeping 
into my mouth, suffocating me.  Suddenly, a great weight was lifted 
from my body and I heard the huge body crash through the plants and 
into the wall beyond with a sickening thud.  Then he was there, my 
beloved, cradling my broken body in his arms and weeping.  His face 
was splattered with blood as he wiped away my face so I could glimpse 
him.  “Look at me, Chanteuse.  Look into my eyes.  Stay with me.  
Hold onto me.”  His voice pleaded with centuries of raw agony 
rippling under the lilted French surface.  I locked my gaze with his, 
feeling my heartbeat pulse through the ripped and ragged edges of my 
flesh with electric sharpness.  It was getting slower by the second.  

“It’s so cold,” I whispered through trembling lips.  Engulfing 
fatigue dragged at my eyelids.  “Kiss me, Asher.  Let my last breath 
be yours.”  He rocked my body aggressively, trying to shake it back 
to life.  “Non.  You fight.  You survive.  I need you.” He begged 
against my lips.  “Take care of my son.” My life was swiftly seeping 
from my veins now.  “He will not want for anything, amante.   But you 
will see to that yourself.  Just hang onto me.  Fight!”  He was 
screaming, but his voice seemed more and more distant.  My eyes were 
glazing over robbing me of light.  “Je taime,” I managed to whisper 
in a barely audible broken sentiment.  The last sensation was being 
wrapped in a liquid, comforting warmth before darkness flooded over 
my sight.