Kuhma appeared almost pleased at the concept. “I don’t sleep much as an elk anyway. They’re light sleepers to begin with, and it behooves them to stay awake and alert as much as they can. It’s why we’re such good guardians for the tribe.”
“Now who’s letting him know too much?” Dazi teased.
“You didn’t tell him about our responsibilities?”
Dazi shrugged. “It never came up. We mostly talked history and why we’re at the convention.”
“Oh.”
Mateo smiled. “Don’t worry, regardless of what you tell me, the only two people I’m likely to pass it onto are my mother and grandfather. My father is used to me keeping secrets, but my grandfather in particular would find you guys fascinating.”
Kesi and Kuhma became uneasy, so Dazi reassured them by saying, “His grandfather is one-hundred-seven years old. He’s not likely to cause trouble at that age.”
This led Mateo to retell the story of his family. Kuhma had heard the short version, but Kesi listened with fascination. “And no one has spilled your secret? Ever?” She pursed her lips. “Surely someone has slipped up at some point?”
Mateo shook his head. “Pagans take their oaths very seriously. We once had someone who, on a lark, sworn an oath to Zeus that they were going to get their family vacation in order by a certain date. Everyone within earshot was bound to the oath, because that’s how they work, and they were all pissed that she made the oath without consulting anyone.”
“What happened to her?”
“Two days later an eagle was spotted flying over her house, and it was seen every day after that until she left for her vacation.” Noting the confused expressions Mateo explained, “The eagle is Zeus’s sacred animal, and often acts on his behalf. It was a sign that Zeus had heard the oath and was making sure it was fulfilled. Everyone came together to help her with her vacation because no one wanted to know what Zeus would do if they failed.”
“So Zeus punishes anyone who breaks an oath?” Kuhma asked.
“If someone swears an oath to him, yes. The Maya didn’t have a specific oath deity, but my grandfather says in his trips to the Spirit World he has seen…indications that people who took the oath are being held to it.”
Dazi’s eyes grew wide. “You never told me your grandfather visits the Spirit World! When? How often? Why?”
Mateo smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “You have your people’s secrets, I have mine. We are descended from shamans, and sometimes we have to travel for a spell or to ask a favor. I’ve been there myself a few times, but I’m not nearly as skilled as my grandfather. Maybe I’ll master it in a couple decades.” In truth, the Spirit World was not Mateo’s favorite place. Sometimes he walked along the outskirts in dreams, as his jaguar was wont to do, but getting into the deeper realms was exhausting, and when he returned he usually had a raging headache and an overwhelming urge to take on his jaguar form, sometimes for days on end.
All three of the Mukua’poan stared at him with newfound wonder. Mateo had assumed traveling to the Spirit World was something mostly reserved for certain members of the tribe, but it wasn’t impossible. Surely they had all been at least once, especially if it was necessary to gain their animal skins. Their faces reminded him of the Pagans who met him for the first time and thought they were beholding the remnant of some god. It reminded him of…
“What about you guys?” Mateo asked, desperate to derail his train of thought. “Does your secret ever get out? I mean, there are only three of us at home, and you have a few hundred, so it must leak out sometimes, right?”
It was their turn to be uncomfortable, Dazi especially. “It happens on occasion,” Kuhma said. “Little accidents like hikers and tourists stumbling across us as we change, but we know how to deal with those. We’ve never had a situation like this occur before, though.” He shot Dazi a pointed look.
Dazi said something half-pleading in Shoshoni. Kuhma replied in exasperation. This led to an argument from which Mateo felt awkwardly left out, particularly because the only word he could understand was his own name. Kesi made a frustrated remark or two. Dazi continued to beg, clasping his hands together in desperation. Kuhma sighed, said something brief yet accepting, and sat back in silence.
“So…what was that about?” Mateo asked.
“Nothing,” Dazi said.
“Didn’t sound like nothing.”
Kuhma huffed. “Like you said, we have our secrets.”
Mateo furrowed his brow. Dazi was staring down at his hands. Whatever they had discussed, Mateo hoped Dazi would tell him about it the next time they were alone, if they were ever alone again. So far Dazi had been open and honest, or at least that’s what Mateo had thought. Now he was starting to doubt.
“It’s getting late,” Kesi said. “You said we should be out the door by seven-thirty tomorrow morning, right?”
“If you want to get breakfast somewhere, yeah.”
“Then we should all get some sleep. Even you, Kuhma.”
“I can keep watch.”
“Sleep,” Kesi insisted. “We’re inside, we’ve locked the door, everything will be fine.”
“I hope so.” If Mateo didn’t know better, he would swear Kuhma sharpened his glares with a whetting stone. Mateo had been stared down by aggressive deer before, but this had a human conviction to it.
With Kuhma finally in agreement, everyone took turns visiting the bathroom to prepare for bed. While waiting for his turn, Mateo told Kesi and Kuhma more about the Con-fur-ence, what he knew of the furry community, and the likelihood that anyone there had even heard of the Mukua’poan, let alone their powers.
“The closest they’ll ever get is if someone wrote self-insertive fanfiction based around the legends about skin-walkers, like how people can’t seem to stop writing vampire and werewolf erotica.”
Kesi pulled a face. “Ugh, like those weird Twilight books that had the skin-walker werewolf tribe. We had our worries about them, too, since the legend behind their powers is kinda similar to a part of our actual ceremony, but there are enough differences that we figured it was a fluke and the book is really, as you put it, a work of fanfiction written only to fulfil the fantasies of the author.”
“You said there was a panel tonight where people could learn to write erotic scenes and stuff like that, right?” Kuhma said.
“Yeah, but at least those people are making an effort to write something that doesn’t lower your IQ when you read it,” Mateo said.
They all laughed. Dazi, who had finished up his turn in the bathroom, came out and said, “What are you laughing about?”
“People who write porn about skin-walkers and werewolves so they can pretend they know what it’s like to have sex with one.”
Dazi bit his lip. Mateo noticed he did that a lot, especially since they had attended the Introduce Your Fursona panel. He wondered if that was a sign Dazi was anxious or uncomfortable. He pushed himself to his feet. “Well, I’m gonna shower and all that. You sure none of you need one?”
“Nah,” Kesi said. “We showered before we left, and we can self-groom before we sleep. Maybe we’ll take some tomorrow.”
Mateo nodded. “Okay. You guys can turn the lights off if you want. My night vision is good enough that I won’t trip over anyone.”
The others mumbled their responses, and sure enough, when Mateo emerged from the bathroom, the room was dark, save for the street light that permeated through the window shades. Kuhma was sleeping in his human form, but Kesi had changed into a coyote and curled up on her pillow, her clothes folded neatly beside her. Dazi was also human, but he had set up his pillow on the floor like the others, albeit at the foot of Mateo’s bed. Mateo almost invited him to share the bed if he wanted. However, on second thought he decided things were better this way. He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and pondered on his eventful day as he drifted off to sleep.
Mateo awoke to the gentle rasp of a tongue against the fur on his neck. Still drowsy, he opened his eyes
just enough to take in his surroundings. The light from outside made the room almost bright as day, though his ears picked up only the sounds of light traffic and steady drowsy breathing. His nose, however, detected prey close by. He wriggled his whiskers and licked his nose to sharpen his sense of where it was.
The tongue continued grooming him, moving up to wash his ear. Mateo stretched out his legs, flexing his claws. He was a little hungry, but not uncomfortably so. The large cat beside him didn’t smell like family, but it didn’t smell threatening either. Human memories trickled through his barely conscious mind to fill the cracks in the image created by his jaguar senses. He was in a hotel, the prey was a person, and the tongue belonged to Dazi. Mateo yawned. He could have changed back into a human to continue sleeping, but he liked this closeness with Dazi. Eventually the licking stopped, but Dazi remained on the bed, his body curled up against Mateo’s. Mateo chuffed, since he could not purr, and went back to sleep.
* * * *
Chapter 9
Dawn was merely a sliver of silver on the horizon when Dazi awoke again. As before, it was his sense of smell that roused him. The scent of the jaguar had diminished. Mateo was human once more. Dazi returned to his own human skin and put his boxers back on. Mateo hadn’t woken up, and Dazi had enjoyed sleeping next to him, so he took a chance and resumed his place on the bed. Mateo murmured something, but didn’t wake up. Dazi smiled and closed his eyes. With a tremendous yawn, he went back to sleep.
What seemed like five seconds later, someone above him cleared their throat. Dazi blearily opened one eye. His first reflex was to stretch all his muscles. However, in doing so, he not only realized he had his arm around Mateo’s waist, but his morning hard-on was pressed against the base of Mateo’s tail. He froze. Kuhma sighed behind him, but Dazi was too scared to move. If he rolled over, his friends would either laugh at him or worry about his reasons for confiding in Mateo. If he stayed there and waited for things to subside, he risked Mateo waking up and having the same reaction.
Gingerly, Dazi slid back and away from Mateo, who barely even twitched. Dazi’s heart pounded madly. He silently begged Mateo to stay asleep, just for a few more moments. In an attempt to mitigate his erection, Dazi closed his eyes and thought of unpleasant things: stubbing his toe, badger musk, fake-skins swarming to their reservation…
“Hey Mateo!” Kuhma exclaimed, kicking the bed.
Dazi yowled in alarm. He wasn’t off the bed yet, though being startled helped his efforts. To his chagrin, when Mateo rolled over, Dazi was poised in such a way that it looked like he was climbing into the bed with a lingering semi, not out of it. Mateo blinked drowsily at him with those yellow eyes, which seemed golden brown under his droopy lids. He yawned, opening his jaws wide and stretching out his tongue. Dazi darted out of the bed while Mateo’s eyes were closed.
“G’morning,” Mateo mumbled. He rolled lethargically onto his hands and knees and arched his hips back in a long stretch, his hands reached out in front of him like claws while his tail curled over his back. Dazi wished he could have had a morning stretch. Watching Mateo’s thick yet graceful body made his own muscles itch. Mateo rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. “So it’s about…six-thirty?”
“Six-forty-five,” Kuhma corrected.
Mateo scratched at his jaw, working down his neck to his chest in short neat swipes of his fingernails. “That’s good. I take it Kesi’s in the bathroom?”
Dazi hadn’t even heard the water until now. The faint splashes in the shower were unmistakable, but Dazi’s mind had been on other matters. That problem was almost resolved, but he shifted from one foot to the other trying to encourage the last of the excess blood out of his cock.
“Yeah. We took out your midnight snack before she went in. It’s on the table.” Kuhma smirked to Dazi. “I take it you’ll want the bathroom next?”
“If Mateo doesn’t need it.” Dazi knew Kuhma wouldn’t say anything to Mateo, but he wasn’t going to let Dazi live this down easily.
Sure enough, after Dazi was finished washing up in the bathroom and Mateo had gone in to take his turn, Kuhma let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. “Is that why you’re taking such a risk?” he asked in Shoshoni. “Is he putting out some kind of jaguar pheromones that are affecting your perception?”
“My perception is fine,” Dazi growled as he got dressed.
“I know that look,” Kesi said. “What is it?”
Dazi zipped up his pants and sighed. “I need more time. I can’t take Mateo back to the tribe yet. They won’t understand why I did it.”
Kuhma pinched the bridge of his nose. “We had this discussion already. It is our most sacred law; Outsiders who watch us change have to be taken before the puhagant to have their memories altered. Members of the tribe who tell Outsiders we can change are exiled. I agreed to vouch for you, not him. I protect my own tribe, and I know you’re not that much of an idiot. This was…a lapse of judgment, perhaps.”
“We needed a guide.” And Mateo needed someone like him. If he is the last of his kind, then maybe he could find a place among us.
“We needed to keep our secret,” Kuhma hissed.
Kesi rubbed her eyes in frustration. “Yes, yes, Kuhma. Dazi broke the rules, you’re upset, we get it. And as I said, the shamans will have most likely made up their minds by the time we get there. Tommo sent me a text during the night that said he didn’t mention Mateo because he doesn’t want all of us to get in trouble for letting Dazi do this.”
Dazi cracked his knuckles. This was different. The shamans would have to understand that. Dazi hadn’t simply told their secret to the first stranger he came across. Mateo was practically one of them. In fact, he was something more. He was born with these powers, his entire lineage blessed from time immemorial.
Exile for one year, at a minimum. But for deliberately changing in front of him, they could take away both our memories, strip me of my puha. I would have nowhere to go. I couldn’t even go with Mateo since he wouldn’t know me anymore. Dazi shuddered. The shamans wouldn’t do that. They may revoke my puha, but they would let me keep my memories. But that means I would remember everything I’ve lost. I don’t know which is worse…
Mateo was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so to speak, when he emerged from the bathroom. He threw his remaining granola bars into an accessible pocket of his bag before he shouldered it. “Does everyone have everything? Yes? Okay. I know this great place for breakfast that shouldn’t be too crowded by now.”
The café in question was indeed nice. It was a block or so farther away from the convention center, and yet most of its occupants were clearly in town for the Con-fur-ence. Some of them waved; all were cheerful and pleasant, excitedly talking with one another about the upcoming events of the day. Dazi’s ears picked up bits and pieces of the conversations as their group walked towards an empty table.
“…so nervous. I’ll need to get in line two hours early if I even want a chance of meeting him, but I wanted to…”
“…see if we could host a panel next year with animal-themed yoga poses. Everyone would…
“…the parade? I don’t think this counts as a real fursuit so I don’t think they’d let me join.”
Kesi and Kuhma took one side of the table, leaving Dazi to sit beside Mateo. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Kuhma hadn’t mentioned jaguar pheromones earlier. Every breath Dazi took was laden with Mateo’s scent, and Dazi had to admit to himself that he liked it. He smelled so virile, so strong, so entrancing, even his mountain lion figuratively lifted its head in his direction.
Dazi gritted his teeth and took the specials menu card from near the napkins so he could have something else to focus on. It didn’t help. He wasn’t keeping Mateo around to smell him, or court him, or even keep him in check. He wanted to be around Mateo simply because he wanted to. Mateo was interesting, fascinating, and, yes, attractive. That didn’t mean Dazi was blind to the danger he might cause if he couldn’t be trusted.
H
e can be trusted. If only I could explain why…
Mateo pointed out what was good. Dazi could already smell what he wanted cooking in the kitchens. When the waitress came, he ordered a breakfast burrito with a side of hash browns. Kesi ordered the sausage links with poached eggs and a side of bacon. Kuhma simply went with a stack of blueberry pancakes and some orange juice. Mateo asked for a plate of French toast, a ham and cheese omelette, a banana walnut muffin, and a glass of fruit juice.
“I’ll pay,” he said.
“How do you have that much money?” Kuhma asked.
Mateo looked around and scratched at his ear. “Aside from the work I do at the farm, people also come to my family for…services. Mostly my grandfather, but my mother is a skilled healer and I can do…some things. Not to mention the fact that people payed hundreds of dollars for my baby teeth to use in good luck charms. We’re not rich, but we never want for money. Plus, I set aside a couple hundred for the convention each year.”
Dazi smirked. Of course people would worship him as a god. His grandfather could walk through the Spirit World, his ancestors were the leaders of a dying civilization, and on top of all that he had been born with yellow eyes and a tail. Even if he couldn’t turn into a jaguar, Dazi wouldn’t be surprised if a small cult formed around Mateo’s family. The issue with that was if word got out that a god walked among men, even one trying to live an ordinary life, people may go looking for more like him, or worse, they would cut him up and study him.
When Dazi’s food came he felt too sick to eat it.
Mateo, on the other hand, sounded as enthusiastic as the other Con-fur-ence attendees during his explanation of the day’s upcoming events. “There’s the big parade at noon, if you want to see all the different kinds of fursuits people put together. Some of them are really spectacular. Before that, there is an event called Unleashing the Beast, which—” Mateo flipped through the event guide, “—mostly involves talking about why you chose your fursona and trying to get in touch with it, buuut I don’t think you would want to participate in that. There are a few gaming events, art classes, and…” His voice trailed off and he wiggled his nose.
Beasts Like Us Page 8
