Goose bumps lifted on my arms. And then, in only a moment, the tiger shape-shifted. I’d seen it happen before, but that didn’t make the visual any less amazing. A flash lit the night as magic swirled around him, changing the massive predator . . . into Jeff Christopher. He shook out his arms and legs, then popped his head back and forth as if stretching his neck. He looked up and met my gaze, and in the eyes of this young man—often silly, sometimes costumed, always flirty—I saw a world of understanding and experience and maturity. Not that I’d had any doubts, but Jeff Christopher was a marvel.
