Paradox (Travelers Series Book 2)

by Claudia Lefeve

“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “You know how I’ve been having all those dreams lately? Well, they’re still all about that one animal.”

  “You mean that jaguar or panther thingy?” Damian asked.

  “Yeah, but then the dreams got worse.”

  “What do you mean by worse? Like nightmares?” Lyssa asked, popping a fry into her mouth.

  I took a sip of diet Coke for strength, stared her straight in the eye, and said, “I mean, I’m seeing the same animal while I’m awake now too. Or at least its shadow.” Man, that took some guts. Unfortunately, those same guts were now threatening to make an appearance on our table.

  Words cannot describe the looks on the twins’ faces. I had expected Lyssa to make some kind of crack about how I need to get some sleep, but they just sat there looking at me. It was the longest moment of my life. Well, up until that point at least. Finally, Damian broke the silence.

  “Have you spoken to your grandma about this?”

  “Yesterday. I drove out there after school.”

  “What’d she say?” Lyssa asked.

  “Well, she reminded me that the Mayan people believe we all have an animal counterpart, like an animal totem. It’s called a nagual. I guess it’s not at all unusual to dream about it.” I took another sip of soda, mostly to give them a minute to process.

  “Okay,” Damian said, “so it’s normal to dream about them. What about seeing their shadows when you’re awake?”

  Normal. My brain somehow got stuck on the word. My mouth turned to sawdust. This was the part of the conversation I had been dreading. I peeked around and lowered my voice.

  “Well, I guess seeing your nagual’s shadow while you’re awake is pretty, uh, uncommon.” I fidgeted with my napkin.

  “Okay, so what else did she say?” Lyssa asked.

  “She said that maybe I’m going to be…you know…a shifter.” God, I wanted to hurl.

  “Hey, you’re white as a sheet,” Damian said, reaching over the table and rubbing my arm. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  And Lyssa said, “Look, Maya, you know I love your grandma and all, but there’s no way she could know that for sure. I mean, you don’t have the mark, right?”

  The mark! That’s right! I completely forgot about that. Every shifter had the mark of their nagual on the back of their neck!

  “No, no, there’s nothing on the back of my neck,” I said. Thank God.

  She smiled. “See? And all shifters have a mark. Everybody knows that.”

  “Listen, I don’t think it’s all that surprising that you would have a strong connection to nature,” Damian said. “Considering your heritage.”

  I looked across the table at my friends and felt so thankful for them. I realized that neither one of them was freaking out about the possibility that I might become a shifter. They weren’t judging me at all.

  “Thanks, you guys,” I said, giving them both a huge grin.

  A few minutes later, I watched as the twins drove off in the little two-door Civic they shared. Their dad owned a small dealership. My dad had bought my Jeep from him. Driving home, I felt the best I had in days. The twins were absolutely right about the mark. I guess in my panic I had completely forgotten about it. But it was a surefire guarantee that I wasn’t a shifter. At least not yet. I had a feeling I was going to sleep better tonight than I had in ages.

  When I arrived home I found a note from Dad saying that he would be working late again and I should study. He was the first in his family to go to college and he was determined that I would go, too. And I did intend to study, well…something. He worked hard to support us, but I also knew it was easier for him to work a lot and stay busy. That kept him from obsessing about things he’d rather not think about, like his past. Our past. Specifically, my loser-mom. When I was younger, she used to send me a card on my birthday with five bucks in it. Like my friends’ grandparents usually did. Except even they got more cash than that! Eventually, the cards just stopped coming. By then I barely noticed.

  I wasn’t hungry after Scoops, so I decided to head straight upstairs and get a head start on my homework. I can’t say I’m the type to dive into homework on a Friday night, but academics had been taking a back seat lately as lack of sleep continued to kill off more brain cells. I’d always been reasonably smart, but math was something that always seemed to kick my butt. I was lucky. Damian could often spare some time out of his tight honors-only schedule to tutor me. That’s if Lyssa didn’t need his help. And, let’s face it. Damian was her brother, so she got dibs.

  I sat staring at my notes, trying to make heads or tails of what I’d written in class. But my sleepless nights were taking their toll. It wasn’t long before I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

  …the night air was cooling from the day’s warmth and I focused my attention on it briefly. I felt no need to feed after having taken such a large kill this morning. The moon hung low above me, and I was suddenly taken by a wild desire to give chase, as if all of the strength in my body could bring me closer to her. On and on I ran, feeling my weight as it fell heavily into the desert sand. I headed north toward Bear Canyon. I eased myself down rocks and along jagged cliffs. The cool, refreshing waters at the bottom were in my sight, and with a feeling of complete and utter freedom I launched myself from the cliffs and, for just a fleeting moment, it seemed as though I would finally touch the moon. I broke through the water’s surface, shattering her reflection. I swam until exhaustion set in and finally pulled myself onto the shore.

  I tossed and turned. My sheets were sticking to me and my hair was soaked against my pillow. Had I showered before bed? I hated going to bed with wet hair. Oh, man, I was sore all over. Again. Why did this keep happening? Why was there always sleep but no rest? I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep functioning like this. I pushed myself up on my elbows and then eased myself into a sitting position. It was then that I noticed the sand on the rug beside my bed. It didn’t register at first; either because it didn’t belong there or because I wasn’t awake yet, possibly both. I looked toward the door of my room and noticed that there was an entire trail of sand leading to the bed. I took hold of the edge of my blankets and threw them off. I gaped in horror at the dirt and mud covering my legs. I leaned over the side of my bed and dry heaved until I thought the pressure would pop my eyes out of their sockets.

  Suddenly, all I could think about was getting into my bathroom and seeing myself in the mirror. The thought of it made me want to be sick again, but I just had to see (kinda like an accident on the highway, you just gotta look). I stood up and walked across my sandy rug and into the bathroom, where I took a round make-up mirror out of the drawer. I pulled up my long hair, and picked up the mirror with my other hand. Slowly I turned around to peer at the back of my neck. I gasped. I had expected to see a mark of Balam or, ideally, nothing at all. But there on the back of my neck was the mark of a tree. It was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen. Its leaves began at the edge of my hairline. They were lush and pushed toward one side, as though blowing in a warm, gentle breeze. The trunk was long and graceful as it moved along the length of my neck. But it was the roots that I couldn’t stop staring at. They were long and expansive, twisting below the base of my neck and running along my back all the way to the tops of my shoulder blades. So, it had happened. It had really happened. I was a shifter. Crap.

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  For more information about Martha Bourke and the Jaguar Sun series, please visit her website, www.jaguarsunseries.com