by Bianca D'Arc
“Where’s your mama, huh, Kensi?” he asked as the cub, who made a mewling sound and turned her head up the path toward the mansion. “I bet she’s looking for you,” Mark said, standing up with the furry little jaguar in his arms. “Why don’t we go back and see if Marie has any cookies for you?”
At mention of the treat, the little cat hugged Mark’s neck, settling into his embrace as naturally as a human baby might cuddle. Shelly couldn’t help but feel a tugging on her heart strings as she watched the big man carry the little cub the rest of the way to the house.
Mark was good with kids. The proof was in the way the little cub had curled so trustingly into his arms. This baby knew him and knew she could trust him. Children had an instinct for such things, in Shelly’s experience.
“This is Kensi, and she’s five years old,” Mark told Shelly as they continued the walk toward the mansion.
The path sloped upward at a gentle climb, but Shelly was feeling it in her calves. She wasn’t in as good shape as she’d thought, but Mark handled the trek and the extra burden of the child with ease. In addition to being beautiful in both human and animal form, jaguar shifters apparently had a lot more stamina than human architects.
“Kensi’s mom and dad are on paper as the housekeeper and head groundskeeper of the estate, but that’s just for the IRS. Kensi’s parents are both healers, and they look after the Clan when we need patching up. Ah, there’s Jim now.”
Kensi perked up and tried to launch herself out of Mark’s arms toward the man who was coming down the path toward them.
“You found her,” Jim said, taking his daughter into his arms. “She was pestering Judy to take her down to the airstrip to meet your plane, but then she disappeared, and I figured that’s where she’d gone. How far did she get?”
“Just about halfway,” Mark said and Shelly thought she detected a hint of pride in his tone. “She’s going to be a strong jaguar someday,” he went on to praise the child, who was clinging to her father but looking back at Mark with adoring eyes.
She really was impossibly cute. Shelly felt her heart fill with…something. Some pang of longing she’d never really experienced before. Kids had never affected her much. They were cute and all, but babies never seemed to fascinate her the way they did some of her friends.
Now, seeing Kensi, adorable in her spotted cat form, Shelly began to get an idea what that maternal instinct was all about. Somehow, this little cat-child was striking a potent chord in Shelly’s being.
Huh. Maybe she’d just never seen the right child before. Maybe something deep inside her—that instinct that she trusted so much in all other aspects of her life—knew that a human child wasn’t the thing for her. No. Maybe a shifter child was what was meant to be…
“Shelly, this is Jim, Kensi’s father and my first cousin.” Mark introduced them.
“Hi,” Shelly said. “Your daughter is beautiful,” she complimented, realizing the little cat’s eyes were now focused on her.
“She’s a handful,” Jim agreed, as they all began walking back toward the house. “She’s at that age where she wants to assert more independence, but it’s really not good to worry your mama,” Jim finished, directing his words to the little girl and kissing the top of her head.
The little cat made a mewling sound that melted Shelly’s heart.
Mark watched Shelly’s reaction to Kensi with particular interest. She didn’t seem repulsed by the idea that the little cat was actually a little girl, as well. That boded well for his future plans. If all went as he hoped it would, someday, Shelly would have a child of theirs who might be able to transform like Kensi. It was important that Shelly not be too shocked by the idea of shapeshifter children.
They ate lunch at the mansion with a number of Mark’s Clan mates. Everyone was on their best behavior, much to his amusement. They were both wary of making him look bad to the only human woman he’d ever brought to meet his Clan, and curious as only cats could be about her. The conversation was casual, but every once in a while, someone would ask a question that was a little too direct.
Shelly handled it well, though Mark was a bit embarrassed by some of the questions that she fielded. The one about her family’s fall in fortune was particularly awkward, but Shelly didn’t seem to mind. At least, she gave no outward sign that the prying questions were at all out of the ordinary.
When the inquisition masquerading as lunch was finally over, Mark showed Shelly to a guest room where her luggage had already been placed. His room wasn’t far away, and if he had anything to say about it, Shelly would be sleeping with him tonight, but for the moment, he’d give her a few minutes to freshen up and prepare for the afternoon’s trek deeper into the jungle.
He left her at her door with a peck on the cheek. He wanted more, but he had decided on a strategy and was sticking to it. She was in his domain now. He had time and space in which to work his plan…and hopefully create a little magic.
Mark met with his staff for the twenty minutes he’d allotted, getting updates on critical business situations and happenings on the island while he’d been away. His people were more than competent, and he was able to delegate much of his work for the next day or two. He’d have time to court Shelly.
Everyone in the Clan knew that when a jaguar scented his mate, everything else became secondary—at least for a while. Once the mating was solid, other things might recapture his attention somewhat, but the mate was paramount. Once found, a mate would change a jaguar’s life forevermore.
And in Mark’s case, his mating would impact the entire Clan. Shelly could be the instrument of change for everyone on this island and all the jaguars he intended to bring here. To bring home.
Because he wasn’t just building some kind of resort community for jaguar shifters here. No. Mark’s plan was to build a place where they could all live together. Protected. Isolated when they wished to be. A jaguar sanctuary.
It was time to call all his people home and rebuild the Clan.
*
The trip out to the building site wasn’t as rugged as it had been the last time Mark had done it. While he’d been in the human world, his people had been busy pre-positioning huge stacks of basic building materials that would be needed once construction began. They had to be cautious, bringing in small shipments to the warehouse a little at a time, so as not to draw notice from the humans on shore.
Getting the stuff to the building site required that they widen the jungle track they had carved out of the foliage. Careful to leave the sheltering trees in place so their temporary road would be hard to discover from above, they had nevertheless created a more passable pathway under the cover of the leaves. It was almost like a green tunnel in places, and Mark watched Shelly look around in wonder. He liked her reaction.
“I can’t believe what you’ve done here,” she remarked as the four-wheel drive vehicle bumped along the trail. “This is like something out of a movie.”
“It’s been greatly expanded since I was here last,” Mark admitted.
He was driving, and it was just the two of them in the Jeep. He had wanted time alone with her. He’d also wanted to see her reaction to the spot he had chosen for the future home of the jaguar Clan. Maybe it was selfish of him to want to keep her all to himself for now. Or, judging by the cross examination she had suffered at lunch, maybe it was the smart thing to do.
“They’re really gearing up to build as soon as we have a solid plan for the structures. In the meantime, we’ve been stockpiling supplies and prepping the area as best we can,” he told her as they came over a rise in the landscape.
They had been steadily climbing since they left the mansion. The spot he’d chosen to build on was at a high point on the island, but there were taller peaks around them still. The idea was that they’d be sheltered on three sides by the rocky terrain, leaving only a small area through which they could see the ocean—or anyone on the ocean could possibly see them.
If they built the right kinds of bu
ildings, nobody would be able to detect them from the sea or satellite. Their new home would be as secure as Mark could make it, while still allowing the freedom and beauty of their location to shine through.
He stopped the Jeep atop the final ridge to give her a good view of his chosen location. Her reaction didn’t disappoint. Particularly since the guys had been busy prepping the area. It wasn’t clear-cut by any stretch of the imagination, but what they’d removed so far helped the natural contours of the land be more visible—at least from this angle.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, her focus strictly on the landscape. Her mouth hung open a tiny bit in what looked like awe.
Mmm. He liked that. In fact, he wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment, he had to grab the steering wheel so tightly he almost ruined it.
Get a grip, amigo. He didn’t want to scare her off. He had to let her get used to him before he pounced too enthusiastically, but she wasn’t making it easy. She was just too damned attractive—which was a good thing overall, but right now, it didn’t help him be the gentleman he was trying so hard to be.
“Is this a caldera?” Her expression changed as she turned to him, a little frown between her eyebrows that he found utterly adorable.
Damn. His lady was smart. The cat in him purred in approval.
“The entire island is an ancient volcano, yes,” he told her. “This is the place where the lava flowed, but it’s safe now.”
“How can you be so sure? I mean, the Atlantic isn’t as active as the Ring of Fire in the Pacific, but things can change. If you’re planning long-term, this might not be the best place…” Her gaze roamed back to the landscape before them as if it called to her.
“It is the best place. I’m not sure how much you know about South American traditions—myths and legends—but the jaguar holds a special place in the ancient lore of many areas for a reason. We are close to the earth. We are part of it. My people have a sense of the danger spots, and this isn’t one of them. The lava that flowed to create this island is long gone and will not return to this spot. I feel it in my bones. It’s as if this place was made for us. To shelter us and give us a chance to start over.” He, too, was looking out at the valley created by a long-ago volcano, surrounded by tall, curving peaks that would hide them so perfectly.
“Start over?” She turned back to him, concern in her expression.
Mark sighed. It was time to come clean. “My people have been in decline for a long time. We were hunted. Families were scattered due to wars and migration. The drug trade has been particularly hard on us, since many of my people were local leaders or shaman and tried to stand against the cartels. Most were slaughtered as they tried to protect the humans in their areas. We have a lot of orphans.”
“That’s terrible,” she breathed, compassion clear in her voice.
“That’s why I work so hard in the anti-drug area, and the cartels know I am their enemy. They don’t dare come near me anymore, but they’ve spread their poison far and wide. I’m only one man, and though my organization is strong enough to stand on its own, we cannot take on all the drug lords by ourselves. Not now.” His face tightened as resolve to work his plan filled him once again. “I’m thinking long-term. If the jaguar nation can rebuild and become a strong unit—like we have never really been before—we might have a chance at doing something really worthwhile for the entire world. But that time is not now.”
“You have to regroup first,” she whispered. “You have to come together and rebuild the family and the Clan into something so strong, it can never be decimated again.”
He looked at her with renewed respect. She understood. His mate was a perceptive woman with a big heart. The jaguar had chosen well.
“Exactly. And this is the place we will do that. In times past, we were strong individually because the enemies we fought were localized and we had jaguar magic on our side. We lived in discreet territories. Each family had their own claim to defend and protect. We got along for the most part, but our cats liked to spread out.”
“How is grouping you all together here in one place going to work out if your cats like to have their own space?” she asked, getting the gist of his challenges quickly.
“Well, for one thing, we have a big island to roam, and we’ve all agreed to specific rules about which parts of it belong to which family group. We’ll respect each other’s boundaries in the jungle, and we’re used to living as humans in a community. The settlement we build here will be big enough for us to each have our own territory, but close-knit enough that we’re all here for each other—to raise the orphans and give them a sense of family. To care for the few elders who are left. To have families and grow strong again—this time as a unified group.” He felt the steel of his conviction down to his toes. “And we’ll rip apart anyone who tries to stop us. This place has only one way in or out if you’re on two legs. It can be easily defended. And if the worst should happen and we need to flee, we go in cat form where humans cannot follow.”
“You’ve given this a great deal of thought,” Shelly said, respect in her voice.
“I’ve had decades to think about this. I shopped around for just the right location and finally convinced the former owner of this island to sell. He was getting too old to enjoy it properly, anyway, which made the sale easier. And I gave him visitation rights to the mansion for as long as he lives. He’s a good guy, for a human.”
“You old softy,” she said, surprising him with her teasing tone.
He chuckled. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that. I have a certain reputation to maintain.”
Her laughter enchanted him. Low and intimate. A joke shared just between them. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone to confide in. Anyone to joke with. Anyone who didn’t automatically defer to him because he was the Alpha cat. He hadn’t really realized it until this moment, but there was truth in that old adage: It was lonely at the top.
If he could convince Shelly to be his mate, then he’d never be lonely again. She would be his counterpart, his confidant, his lover and his companion…as he would be hers. He’d heard humans wanted such things in their lives, as well. He knew there were billions of love songs and romantic books and movies out there that gave credence to that idea. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to convince her to be his, and his alone, for the rest of their lives.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They spent the rest of the afternoon touring the site on foot and, where possible, in the Jeep. Mark introduced Shelly to various members of his Clan who were busy clearing space in a very deliberate way so as to keep the canopy of leaves above them intact while making it possible to move freely below and have room to build.
This would be a unique project in that Shelly would have to consider the coverage from above and work much more with existing trees and landscape than usual. She liked the challenge, and ideas blossomed in her mind as she saw each new part of the cleared area. Perhaps there was a way to incorporate some of the larger trees right into the buildings. She’d have to look into how that might work long-term, but she would definitely like to try that in a few places.
The first of the buildings to go up would be a sort of community center they referred to as the Clan home or Clan hall. Not only would it be a place for communal gatherings, but there would be a sort of hotel component with individual suites of rooms for Clan members in need of temporary housing.
“We’ll eventually have several communal buildings, each devoted to different purposes. I envision a school for the children, a training center for martial arts for young and old alike, places where different interest groups could gather to teach and learn various crafts, and each building would have a natural component, incorporating the beauty of our natural surroundings so that Clan members could participate in either of their forms.” Mark was waxing eloquent on his ideas and plans for the space. Shelly just listened, taking it all in, beginning to understand his vision for each area they surveyed. Shelly was taking meticulous measurements and
making lots of notes.
Mark had big plans. There was no doubt left in her mind about that. But this was a place of epic beauty and ominous beginnings. She’d never been asked to work in the caldera of a dormant volcano before. She doubted she would ever get this kind of chance again.
She felt almost as if she was building some super villain’s secret lair. It was like something out of a movie—or a comic book. It was so over the top, it was almost funny, but at the same time, she could feel the texture of the earth beneath her feet. She could see the intense life in the greenery all around her. She could even detect the glimmer of obsidian in the few exposed rock faces. Volcanic glass. Black as Mark’s fur and said to have magical properties.
This was a special place. She could feel it in her bones. That instinct she’d never been able to put the proper name to tingled. It told her that this was the right place. A good place. A place where Mark and his people could prosper…if she designed the right home for them.
All her efforts would go toward finding just the right balance between functional design and the natural world around them. She would put all her energy into making this the best set of structures she had ever dreamed into reality. They would stand the test of time and help Mark rebuild his culture, his Clan and their way of life. It was a noble cause, even if nobody on the outside would ever know what she had done here.
She would know. The jaguars would know. It was enough.
She could see it now in her mind’s eye. As Mark continued to speak of his dreams for the location, Shelly’s imagination was sparking into a flame of images that she would put on paper to show him. She couldn’t wait to get sketching. In fact…
Shelly opened the travel case she’d brought with her and started to let the images out onto the paper. These weren’t the detailed drawings she would do later, but rough pencil sketches of what she saw while Mark spoke. It was almost as if she was drawing the images from his words. A collaboration between his dreams and her talent for architecture were coming together on the pad she held in one hand while the other wielded a pencil like a magic wand, flying over the page.
