Fixation (5 page)

I could smell the scent of our arousal in the air: an earthy, musky smell as heady and intoxicating as the fragrance of expensive perfume or melting chocolate. I felt myself growing warm and so wet I thought I’d die if he didn’t fuck me then and there. But Balam had other ideas.

“Wait.”

He ran that gloriously rough tongue across my breasts again, then moved lower, tracing a path down my stomach to my hips, flicking the sensitive area around each hip bone, taking tiny tastes of my flesh with gentle bites. He ran his fingers/claws down to my legs, teasing the soft skin of my inner thighs while his mouth and tongue traced a warm path between.

I moaned and arched into his mouth as he explored my most sensitive parts, tongue plunging inside me and lapping at my clitoris with a smooth, steady rhythm guaranteed to drive me crazy.

“Now.”
I reached down lower and took his shaft in one hand. No fur, just a hot, thick, throbbing cock.
Mine
, I thought as I carefully guided him to my center, feeling the tip pushing against me.

“
Yes. Yours.”
With one sudden movement, Balam thrust inside me, filling me completely. I screamed as I came, the sound deepening even as it came out of my mouth, lengthening, coarsening to the bellowing roar of a jaguar.

Balam suddenly bit down on my neck, teeth closing around my jugular in a grip that meant business. I gasped, then growled again and dug my nails into his back, nails now curved in deadly talons that could take chunks out of a bowling ball.

Balam withdrew from me and I laughed with a primal joy as I felt my body changing, shifting, and morphing into something wild and ferocious, strength coursing through my body. I lifted a hand to see rough yellow-brown fur, patterned with rosettes replacing my skin. Half hand, half paw, finishing the morph into paw even as I watched.

“Do you like it?”
Balam, now in totally in his jaguar form, hunkered down next to me.

I grinned at him, an open-mouthed jaguar grin giving him the answer he sought, my tail (
tail?
) lashing back and forth with excitement.

“Shall we swim?”

“Oh, yes!”
I took off like a shot, reveling in the feeling of strong muscles propelling me towards the enticing crystalline water. I felt rather than saw Balam (
Nagual?
) catching up with me, racing along at my side. We both reached the lake at the same time, plowing into the water like two feline cannonballs.

It felt like cool liquid silk, like heaven.

We played in the water like frolicking cubs, leaping on each other to see who could duck whom under the water, racing from one side of the lake to the other, then back again just because we could.

After we swam Balam took me for a run in the jungle, letting me stretch my muscles and stamina. I reveled in the power and grace of my feline form—and the beauty of my companion. At one point he outpaced me, vanishing amongst the dense foliage. I ran after him, then stopped, disoriented and suddenly frightened he’d left me along in this strange place. I let out a mournful call that echoed through the trees. Then I was suddenly sideswiped by several hundred pounds of frisky jaguar.

His mouth lolled open in an annoyingly satisfied grin. Both angry and relieved, I growled and swiped at him to let him know I was
not
amused. He boxed my ears in retaliation, then wrestled me down to the ground until I was on my stomach. His teeth sunk into my nape as he fucked me from behind. Quick but satisfying, although it hurt when he withdrew. Stupid feline barbed penis.

Eventually we ended up back in the clearing where I collapsed in an exhausted heap, ready to sleep.
“Rest now, Maya...”
Balam gently washed my face with his tongue, like a mother cat with her kitten, soothing me to sleep in a cocoon of total security.
“Remember ... I’ll be back for you.”

Reality and wakefulness did not come easily. I felt sunlight on my eyelids trying to urge me to join the world, but I felt such a wonderful languor from my dreams that I didn’t want to wake up. Then something started buzzing around my face, landing on my nose. I lazily swatted at it, then stretched out the full length of my body from head to ... to tail.

My eyes flew open.

Iron bars in front of me. Cement floor beneath me. Paws instead of hands.

I opened my mouth to scream, but the only thing that came out was the guttural cough of a jaguar.

I was a jaguar, it was broad daylight and I was locked in the quarantine cage at FPC.

I looked outside at the patch of grass. There was no sign of my sleeping bag.

This had to be a dream!

But—what if it wasn’t?

When Balaam had first appeared in his human guise, he’d asked for the little figurine I’d found. He’d said that without it he remained trapped. The thing obviously held a secret magic. Something strong enough to imprison a man in jaguar form? What if this man used it—used
me—
to free himself, trapping me in his place?

Bastard.

I started pacing back and forth along the length of the cage, tail lashing in outrage, bellowing roars of rage and abandonment with each circuit I made. No jaguar at FPC had ever made the fuss I was making now. I would wake up the entire compound until someone came to—

To what?

Who would know who and what I really was?

This realization only set up an entire new round of barking roars, accompanied by frantic leaps up on the den box and back down, running around the perimeter of the cage, only to repeat the pattern again and again.

Footsteps approached, but I paid them no heed, too caught up in my cycle of misery and betrayal.

“Maya!”

I stopped mid-leap as I recognized Balam’s voice. Running to the front of the cage, I leapt up, front paws against the bars as he strode towards me. My Aztec warrior was now dressed in jeans and a crisp white cotton shirt. He was followed closely by Jeri and Patrick.

Balam leapt over the protective fence before Jeri or Patrick could stop him.

“Senior Cadejo, I wouldn’t—” Patrick stopped and shook his head as Balam pressed his hands against my paws, putting his face up to the bars next to mine. I licked him frantically through the bars, ecstatic he hadn’t abandoned me. Then I remembered what he’d done to me and growled.

“Maya,” he whispered. “It is going to be fine. I’ve come to take you home.” With a quick sleight of hand, he pulled the figurine seemingly out of the air and held it in front of me. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Another gesture and the figurine vanished.

“How the hell did your people send us the wrong damn cat?” Jeri came up beside him, understandably pissed off and confused. No way she was gonna fall for this story.

Balam shrugged. “I was out of the country and one of my keepers is new and didn’t bother to check the gender of the jaguar sent to you. He is no longer in my employ.”

“So you’re saying this one isn’t even male?” This was Patrick, as pissed off as Jeri.

“Most definitely not. This is Maya, a female whom I myself raised from birth.”

Patrick shook his head. “That’s just bullshit. The cat in this cage was male. No way to miss that set of cajones.”

“Perhaps you saw what you expected to see?” I waited for Patrick and/or Jeri to take Balam’s head off for even vaguely inferring they didn’t know the difference between a male and a female cat. Instead they exchanged a glance as if confused. He had to be working some sort of glamour on them. “You can see she knows me.”

More or less true, I thought, giving his face another lick through the bars. I might not have entirely trusted him, but he was my only ticket out of quarantine.

Jeri gave a grudging nod. “Obviously. You said her name is Maya?”

Nodding, Balam reached in and scritched my forehead. “Just like your docent.”

Jeri gave him a sharp look. “How the hell did you know that?”

“Ah, that is quite simple. Once I discovered the mistake, I flew up here from Belize immediately and arrived at your compound early this morning. I didn’t want to intrude, so I waited in my car in the parking lot. Your Maya came out there quite early and I told her who I am and why I was here.”

Patrick nodded slowly. Something about Balam’s soothing voice made anything seem plausible, almost as if he was hypnotizing all those who listened.

“But why did she leave so early?” asked Jeri, frowning.

“She was ill,” said Balam. “She said something about a ... a migraine? ... and needing to go home to get medicine. She asked me to let you know.”

Jeri nodded, satisfied.

“So now I must take my Maya home with me.” Balam smiled at me. I rubbed up against the bars, then ran back and forth before dropping to the ground and rolling on my back. “Do you have a crate I could use? Perhaps the one she arrived in? I have a vehicle suitable for transport to the airport in the lot.”

“What about Nagual?” asked Patrick.

“Ah, Nagual...” Balam looked at me as he spoke. “You know that Nagual is a name for a spirit companion in the form of a jaguar, yes? The shamans believe these companions protect them from evil spirits while they traverse the worlds between the spirit realm and the Earth.”

“That’s all very interesting, Senior Cadejo.” I could tell Jeri was trying very hard to keep her temper. “But it doesn’t answer the question.”

Balam turned to face her. “Quite right, Miss Callahan. My apologies. I will arrange to have the correct jaguar sent to you tomorrow on one of my private jets, at absolutely no expense to you. And for the inconvenience, I’ll also arrange for a donation of fifty thousand dollars to your compound.”

Jeri and Patrick looked at each other, then back at Balam. Jeri was the first to speak. “That’s very generous of you, Senior Cadejo, but not necessary. The jaguar will be more than enough to—”

Balam waved his hand in friendly dismissal. “I must insist. You already paid for the transport of my little Maya here. The mistake was made by my people. Let me make up for it.”

“Well...”

“I insist.”

He turned to me. “Maya, are you ready to leave with me?”

I gave a soft grunt in reply. I wanted out of this cage in the worst possible way.

Balam’s eyes green-gold eyes shimmered with an unearthly glow that only I saw. “Soon, Maya. I promise you.”

I’d helped load many a cat into a transport crate in my time at FPC, but never had I been at the receiving end of the deal, and I have to say I didn’t much like it. My sympathy for any animal having to suffer the indignity of a carrier ratcheted up several notches as I very reluctantly crept into the crate and hunkered down into that small cramped space that still held the sharp tang of ammonia from cat piss no matter how many times it’d been hosed out and bleached. The jostling around as the crate was hoisted up and into the bed of a spanking-new shiny red truck didn’t help. Neither did the subsequent ride down the dirt road. By the time the truck pulled over to a turnout on the side of the road I was ready to either rip someone a new orifice or throw up my last dinner. Which made me wonder if a jaguar could hork up a few margaritas.

Luckily I didn’t get the chance to find out. Balam came around to the back of the truck, opened up the tailgate and stared at me. “Are you ready to come back, Maya?” I lunged at the door of the crate. “You have to stay calm,
querida
. I’m going to let you out of there, but you have to promise me you won’t run away. If you do, you could be trapped in that form for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

I immediately hunkered down against the bottom of the crate, the only movement the lashing of my tail.

Balam raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

I huffed in reply.

“Good.” He unlatched the crate door. I burst out of there, an explosion of muscle, fear, and anger. Balam stepped out of the way without flinching, even when I rounded on him and bared my teeth in a feral snarl.

“Hush, little one.”

Little? I was at least a hundred fifty pounds of well-muscled jaguar flesh. I could shred him with my claws, crush his skull in my teeth if I chose.

“But is that what you want?”

Huh?

“To crush my skull?” Balam crouched down with easy grace and looked at me. “Or do you want to be human again?”

Wonderful. He could read my mind. That was supposed to be
my
superpower.

“Don’t worry, Maya. You’re still very special.” He stretched out a hand. I could have bitten it off, but instead I nudged it with my nose, arching into the caress that ran up my skull and down my back. “Now let me make this better,
querida
.”

If I could have sighed, I would have done so. Instead I sat back on my haunches and watched as Balam pulled out a small metal brazier and a bag of charcoal from the truck, along with a little burlap bag. Setting the brazier on the ground, he put in a few briquettes and waved a hand over it. Fire sprung up from the charcoal without the benefit of lighter fluid or matches. I might have been freaked out if I hadn’t spent the night having amazing sex in both human and jaguar form, and now stuck in the latter. As far as I knew, this was still just one more chapter in an amazing dream sequence.

Balam started chanting in a melodious and ancient-sounding language I didn’t understand. The flames flared higher, shot with improbable streaks of brilliant emerald green and vibrant peacock blue, the tendrils looking as though they were reaching for the sky. Pulling a leather pouch from around his neck, Balam reached into it and extracted pulled out the little figurine that’d gotten me into this mess in the first place. Then he opened the burlap bag and extracted what looked like a pinch of dried herbs. Still chanting, he tossed the herbs into the fire. The flames shot into the sky with a crackling roar.

Balam quickly brought out the figurine and tossed it into the fire with an exclamation uttered in the same melodious language as his chanting. As Balam’s voice rose in intensity and volume the flames twisted around one another, writhing in the air as if in pain. The pain reflected in my gut as sharp knives started slicing through my stomach and chest. No, make that sharp knives dipped in white-hot fire and spiced with some foul poison. Yes, it hurt that much.

I dropped to the ground, howling with betrayed anguish. I was dying; I had to be dying to hurt this badly. My insides were being ripped to pieces by invisible blades or claws, and the copper taste of blood filled my mouth. It felt as if giant hands were twisting my muscles like I would wring a towel to squeeze out extra moisture. I curled into a fetal ball and screamed as the pain became too much to handle.

Screamed.

I screamed.

Not howled.

I looked down at my body, no longer covered in fur, paws transformed into hands, claws now short trimmed nails. I hurt, oh god, how I hurt, but the sight of my smooth-skinned human body made me weep with relief even as I wanted to die from the bone-shattering agony racking my limbs.

“Maya...” Strong arms wrapped around me, warm hands rubbing up and down my arms and legs, spreading tingly heat through my body that helped dissipate the bone-wracking pain. I sobbed as the invisible shards of glass stabbing every inch of my body dissolved into blessedly numbing warmth washing through me, soothing the pain, relaxing my muscles until I lay in a limp mass in Balam’s embrace.

“My brave girl...” Hands continued to massage my body, up into my shoulders and neck, strong fingers caressing my scalp. I was still but for the occasional hiccupping sob accompanying the aftershocks of the mind-shattering pain still fresh in my muscle-memory.

Something pressed against my lips, a rim of hard plastic. “Drink, Maya...” Cool water trickled down my throat and I swallowed gratefully, the liquid easing the rawness caused by my screams.

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed as I lay in a stupor in Balam’s arms, aware of his fingers playing in my hair, brushing it back from my forehead much the same way my mother used to do when I was ill as a child. My body wanted to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t cooperate. I was too conscious of Balam’s proximity. Even if the mind-blowing sex of last night had been in my dreams, my partner was here; flesh and blood, smelling of musk and indefinable yet enticing spices. It was all too much for me, a sensory overload of both pain and pleasure.

I just wanted to be home in my bed.

“And you will be there soon, I promise.” Fingers stroked the hair back from my forehead. I stared up into Balam’s gold-flecked green eyes.

“Are ... are you reading my mind?” My voice cracked when I spoke. My throat felt as though I’d been gargling Drano with a salt chaser.

He smiled. “No. You spoke out loud.”

“Oh...” I coughed, wincing at the pain. Balam immediately poured more water into my mouth, helping me into a sitting position as he did so. Sitting up somehow made everything seem more real, even things that had to have been part of my weird fever dreams. Thinking of those things made me want to lie right back down again and check out of consciousness for a few more hours, but part of me knew that was only postponing the inevitable, whatever that might be. So I forced myself to focus on my surroundings.

Which led me to the abrupt realization I was naked.

Butt-ass birthday suit naked.

I gasped and (yes, I really did) covered my chest with one arm and my nether regions with the opposite hand, like Venus on the half shell.

Almost immediately a soft blanket appeared in Balam’s hand. He tucked it against and around my body, cocooning me in warmth and somewhat restoring my modesty. “Is this better?”

I nodded, clutching the blanket to my chest with both hands. I was starting to feel almost human again. The bone-shattering pain faded to a dull ache, the kind of muscle throbbing that comes the day after a particularly tough workout or following a nasty bout of the flu.

“How long have I been...” I stopped, not wanting to hear the words “how long have I been a jaguar” come out of my own mouth. That felt too much like buying a first-class ticket to Crazy Town. Instead I asked, “What time is it?”