Fragile Bonds

by Adelaide Walsh

  Joaquín scraped his fingers through his hair, and looked around the room. "Adriana," he called my name, voice low, his comment obviously only for my ears, "you don't have to help them."

  I made a face and responded louder than absolutely necessary. "I don't need your permission to help these people." I squared my shoulders and stepped out of the circle of his arm. "Anton, I have to be honest with you. I can't call up visions on command. I'm not sure that I actually have any control over them at all."

  "We're out of options and Beno is running out of time. I'm asking you to try."

  I looked around at the expectant faces in the room. I had to at least try. But what was I even supposed to do? I took a deep breath. "I'll try, but don't get your hopes up."

  I took several more deep breaths, closed my eyes, and tried to...feel, for something. For anything. But nothing happened. Okay, Adriana, let's think here. You can do this. I tried to think back to the last vision. I'd just been laying on top of Joaquín. I wasn't even really thinking about the case. So, what triggered it? I tried thinking, running through everything I knew about Beno in my head. Nothing was happening, and I just felt stupid. I kept my eyes shut for another long minute, searching, trying to feel with my psychic awareness for anything. I got exactly nothing.

  I stared around the room again, trying to come up with an idea. I was thinking about those televangelist priests who would lay hands on people to supposedly 'heal' them, when I had the idea that maybe touch would spark a vision. I'd felt something when I touched Anton's hand earlier. Maybe that was the trigger. When I opened my eyes, they immediately found Joaquín.

  "I have an idea," I started. "Maybe if Anton tries to, um, picture Beno? If I touch him while he's doing it, maybe something will happen."

  Joaquín looked skeptical but gave a nearly imperceptible nod. I hated that I was waiting for his 'okay' to do this. The idea of another person dying because Joaquín had, yet again, stopped me, was anathema to me.

  Anton shrugged and stepped forward.

  Chapter 15

  "Whatever it takes, gorgeous," he said, voice betraying more hope than I think he specifically intended.

  "Give me your hand."

  He held out his right hand, palm up, his left hand fisted on his hip. I gave one more quick glance at Joaquín and hesitantly moved toward him. I had to force myself to focus exclusively on the missing man. I was struggling to keep my mind off all the other shit happening in this moment. The fact that I needed to talk to Joaquín about our future. The fact that I knew I needed to ask his permission to do this, to help someone. The underlying fear in my gut about the conversation we'd have after this was over. The fear that I would fail yet another changeling.

  I stood in front of the Jaguar alpha and stared at my own hand, drawing my attention internally to look for any sign that this might be working. I brushed my fingers across the upturned palm of his hand and felt...the same strange hum I had before. I held my hand palm down in his larger one and that hum intensified. My stomach flipped when I looked up to see his grey eyes watching me, his pupils dilated.

  "I feel...something," I murmured, trying to grasp onto that feeling that seemed to hover just outside the realm of my perception. "Just stay still," I instructed.

  Despite the eyes of every person in the room now firmly fixed on me, I took a step forward, the toes of our boots almost touching. I laid a hand on the roughness of his cheek, the stubble there darkening the sun kissed bronze of his skin. The hum intensified, just slightly. Became a buzz in the back of my head, the edges of my vision going blurry. I could almost see an aura of blackness start to creep in, and I leaned into, giving him my full weight in hopes of pushing that strange feeling further, of calling up the vision I could feel floating just beyond my reach.

  "I can feel it," I muttered. "It's there...I just need...more." My voice was low, distracted as I focused on keeping hold of the threads of resonance.

  When he lifted his hand to cover my own on his cheek, I felt a spike of arousal shoot through me. The black at the edges of my vision crept forward a fraction, but when neither of us moved, it just stayed there. I dragged my free hand up his arm, over his collar bone and around to cup the nape of his neck. His breathing lost its rhythm, and he hauled me closer to him with a strong arm around my waist. He buried his face in my neck and I could feel his hot breath, searing against my skin. The new closeness he held me with pressed me along the length of his body, and I was suddenly hyper aware of its hardness. A needy wetness flooded through my most intimate places. And I shifted to get closer to him. Whatever spell I was caught in, clearly ensnared him, too.

  I was panting, my bra felt tight and almost painful as it rubbed against my nipples. I wanted to rub myself against him, but knew I had to focus on the vision. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep my mind on Beno. The Snakes. Joaquín in the room. I heard a crash, one of the chairs around the conference table crashing to the floor, but the sound wasn't enough to break the enchantment.

  I no longer felt the eyes on me. I no longer felt the guilt of what I was doing. All I felt was heat and driving need to open this vision. I thrust my hand into Anton's short, silky hair, and tugged his head back. His hot, wet mouth clamped over the pulse in my neck and I gasped. He lifted his head and caught my lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

  The blackness edging in around my vision flooded in, and I could feel my body go rigid, felt like I was falling through a tunnel of sand. Suddenly all I could see was the inside of a dark room. A wooden shack with a dirt floor, the only light coming in through the gaps in the boards that made the walls of this derelict place. There was nothing in the room except for a dark pile on the floor. I couldn't exactly move in the vision, but by focusing on the spot I could see that the dark pile was in fact the slumped and unconscious form of a man. In the next instant I could no longer see the man. I was the man. I could feel the dirt coating my face, my head pounded and the spot on my cheek where someone had hit me with the butt of a gun stung. I knew something was broken. In a gasping breath the vision was ripped away from me and I felt like I was suffocating. Blackness poured over my vision, into my mouth, flooded my lungs and sucked my body down into its cold depths.

  When I opened my eyes, I was staring into a sea of gold fire. Joaquín was vibrating with anger, and I reached up from my position on the floor to grab for him, but he batted my hand away. We weren't alone though, there were other voices in the room. I took a deep breath, glad that I could breathe again.

  "I know where he is. Shack on a large farm, east of the city. I need a map." I sat up, feeling dizzy and light headed, but I was running out of time, again. This time I refused Joaquín to stand between me and saving this man. I refused. I reached up and took the paper map Bella handed to me and smoothed it out on the floor, still not quite able to stand up. Visions, as it were, took a lot out of you.

  My finger landed on the spot I knew the Snakes had taken Beno to. I found the location with almost magnetic efficiency.

  "He's here. But he's hurt. We need a field medic."

  I shoved to standing and looked around at the room. The faces that looked back at me were wide-eyed, shocked, and confused.

  "Let's go! He's hurt!" I screeched.

  I looked to Joaquín, but he dropped his gaze to the floor. When I looked to Anton, he didn't seem entirely okay either. He gripped the back of his neck with his hand but called out to his men.

  "Let's go. Set up a retrieval unit."

  His lieutenants moved for the door, and Joaquín still refused to look at me. I felt like the floor had been swept out from under me. Like every person in this room had just passed a judgement on me. I was embarrassed and hurt at being so publicly rejected by Joaquín. I knew what I'd done with Anton was...unexpected, but I was doing it to save a man's life. I felt like Joaquín should have at least been able to suck it up for the nobility of that mission.

  "I'm coming with," I called after Anton. "You won't find him without me." He looked betwee
n Joaquín and I and whatever he saw there had him hesitate. "I can take care of myself, don't worry." I demanded, and stormed out the door of Joaquín's office.

  My head hurt, my lungs hurt, my eyes burned, I knew what I'd done in that room had torn a ragged, gaping wound in whatever Joaquín and I had been building. He was too possessive, too proud to accept my hands on another man. I rubbed a fisted hand over my heart in an effort to ease the ache that had begun there. I couldn't think about any of that though. I was going to go save Beno and then I'd deal with the fallout.

  I stood there in the hallway for a second, leaning up against the wall, while Anton called out orders to his men.

  "We'll take the chopper. Seats four. Should be ready to fly. Head to the bay." Joaquín's voice floated to me from his position in the doorway.

  Anton nodded, and let Joaquín lead the way. All of us jogged toward the helicopter pad we'd arrived at. It wasn't lost on me that the last time we'd gotten into this helicopter Joaquín had called the den our ‘home’, looked at me the way a man looks at a woman he's claimed as his own. That ache in the vicinity of my heart was back. Anton and Joaquín exchanged a few clipped words on the way over, deciding who to take for the rescue. It was clear Beno didn't have much time left.

  The moment the Snakes figured out they'd grabbed the wrong guy they would execute him. There was no time to send a recovery team to the remote location. As it stood, we'd need to land the helicopter far enough away from the spot that we wouldn't give ourselves away. Anton made a call, arranged for a patrol unit in the area to attempt to meet us at the landing spot. If his patrol drove fast, they might be able to meet us with only a few minutes wait time.

  The Jaguars' territory was further east than the bears. It wasn't unreasonable that they'd have at least one unit close enough to their northern border to intercept us. The location I'd seen made even more sense when I understood where exactly, the limits of Jaguar territory were. The cats claimed territory that butted up against the Amazon river watershed, and extended west, out until it met up with human controlled areas.

  I climbed into the helicopter, followed by Anton and a burly, dark-haired man who'd introduced himself as Grafton. Joaquín was the last to take a seat in the cockpit. Grafton serving as his co-pilot. Joaquín still hadn't managed to look me in the eye, and the flight to the rendezvous point was made in total silence, only broken by a short radio call with Rora confirming the coordinates of the place we'd be landing. When Joaquín brought the helicopter down on a grassy swath of land, concealed from the road by a wide copse of trees, the four of us climbed out of the body of the aircraft.

  Anton was clearly taking the lead on this mission, and I was surprised to realize that Joaquín was allowing that.

  Once on the ground, he called out "Perimeter," and gestured at Joaquín with two fingers to go left, and Grafton to take the woods behind us.

  "Stay. Here," Joaquín barked at me, and I didn't argue. I knew how to defend myself, sure. But I also knew when to let more experienced people do their job. And it was abundantly clear that these men were far, far more experienced than I was. I guess I hadn't completely realized it until right then, but Joaquín wasn't just a seasoned politician. He obviously had some military experience. How else would he have learned to pilot a helicopter, know how to manage so many trained soldiers, run a perimeter check.

  Where would a changeling even get military experience? I was mulling over the idea, which suggested that all the packs had some form of standing military that maybe the humans just didn't know about, when the men returned.

  "Area is clear. We took an indirect flight path, came up over forest. I think we're clear to move." Grafton's voice was gravel.

  "Let's move toward the road, but stay low. Keep alert. There aren't too many roads through this part of the jungle. If someone's moving to or from the holding location, it'll probably through this strip," instructed Anton.

  Joaquín just nodded and took off, prowling in the direction Anton had indicated. I followed, sticking closer to him than the others, but it didn't seem like he cared, or even wanted my presence there. I was feeling like a serious fucking asshole. But I also knew now was not the time to let this transgression cloud my judgement. I needed to focus, or this mission would end up in bodies, not a rescue.

  After about 15 minutes of walking, we neared the tree line. I could see the first hints of the road up ahead and stayed low to the ground, well hidden in the dense greenery of the rainforest floor. Anton made pressing motion in the air with a flat hand, so I laid flat on forest floor. My stomach in the dirt, hand under my shoulders placed so that I could do a quick push up if we needed to move suddenly. I listened hard for any sign of a vehicle but couldn't hear anything. I could see Grafton from my position, with his back against a tree trunk, body alert, scanning the area over my head with his eyes. Long minutes ticked by, and I could feel the dampness of the rainforest begin to seep into my clothes.

  When Grafton sucked in a surprised breath, I looked up to see him motioning frantically to someone behind me.

  "Adriana, do not move," Joaquín whispered from a distance behind me. Voice just strong enough so that I could hear it.

  "Why?" I whispered back. I was becoming frustrated at my own inability to sense a threat.

  "Because."

  I felt it then, a weight, slight and crawling on my shoulder blade. Fucking men. I turned my head to see a large, hairy spider crawling over the black fabric of my t-shirt.

  "You cannot scream, Adriana. Do you understand me?" He ordered from wherever he was concealed. Grafton was already cringing. I moved slowly bringing my left hand up and over, reaching toward the spider. I let the tarantula climb onto the back of my hand, and casually brought her down to the ground in front of me. She took quick steps up my arm toward my elbow, I could feel each little prick from the coarse hairs on her body, and then she changed directions, turning around and scurrying off my arm and disappearing into the debris of the forest floor. I was a child of the Amazon. I'd grown up in this wild, brutal wonderland. This was by no means the first time I'd found myself laying in the mud, playing jungle gym to the myriad creatures who lived here.

  When I looked up at Grafton, his eyes were wide. Obviously, these men had expected a different reaction from me. Idiots.

  A long minute later I heard what all the others had apparently heard a while ago. The hum of an engine grew louder the nearer it got.

  Chapter 16

  When the machine responsible for the noise showed itself, it wasn't at all what I'd expected. I had assumed our escort would show up in a car equipped to transport all four of us. What I had not expected, was another four-wheeler. Just a single, large four-wheeler with a stainless steel tool box mounted on the back. When the man driving the thing stopped, and hopped off, Anton immediately moved to greet him. Two minutes of low conversation later, the man who'd driven in on the quad, another heavily muscled soldier who had to be in his early forties, approached me.

  "You know how to drive one a' these?"

  "Yeah, but how is everyone else getting to the spot?"

  The guy gave me a rather rude look.

  "Oh," I said, and looked around at the four other men.

  "We'll follow your lead. You got weapons in the storage," he gave the box on the back of the quad a light slap, "Not too sure 'bout Snakes, but cats can hear this thing about a mile off in dense forest. Stay on the natural paths in the jungle. Avoid the road. You gotta stop when we're about a mile away and then we'll cover the rest on foot."

  I nodded. "Sounds good."

  "Good luck," he clapped me on the back and walked back toward Anton.

  I expected Joaquín to say something to me before we took off. He didn't. I threw a leg over the seat of the quad and waited a moment, looking around at the men as they dispersed into the density of the forest. I'd never seen Joaquín change before. It felt...strange to be the only human here. I flipped the safety on the handle bar, pressed the accelerator with my thumb, a
nd tore off through the jungle. As I drove, the forest whipped by. A few times I had to slow down, or duck low to stay on the game path that wound us toward our destination. I could feel the location tugging at me like I was a homing beacon. I knew exactly where we were going, never once got lost or turned around. The feeling got stronger the closer we got. I had no idea if it was a mile out or ten, but when the pull inside me got strong enough to make me nervous, I stopped the quad, killed the engine, and hopped off to open the tool box. As far as I could see, I was alone in the forest. I vaguely wondered if I'd been too fast for them, but as I looked around again, I got the feeling of being watched. I knew there were eyes on me.

  In the box was a stack of jeans and t-shirts, as well as enough firepower to take out a small army. Oh, thank Christ they brought a machete. It made sense; this was the amazon. Getting around through the jungle without one—as a human at least—was next to impossible. A machete for me, however, was more than just a tool for hacking through greenery. When I was a bit younger in my career as a journalist, I'd been less careful about who I pissed off with my stories. Once covering a conflict in the middle east, I'd made an enemy of a reasonably powerful Sheikh who didn't appreciate the pictures I'd taken of him taking girls, far too young to be legal, to his bed. He'd hired a group of mercenaries to pick me up and deliver me to his compound so that he could 'teach me a lesson'. When the group eventually found me, I'd had a little bit of self-defense training, but was ultimately a pretty easy catch. The trip back to the Sheikh had taken about eight days, and by the time we got to the city, I'd made a group of deadly new friends. Long story short, the did not deliver me to the Sheikh. Instead they taught me how to look after myself and I spent ten months learning how to be an efficient, and intelligent combatant. My weapon of choice? The humble machete. The weapon made sense because of how ubiquitous they are in this part of the world. No matter what situation you found yourself in, if moving through the rainforest was on the menu, you could probably find a machete somewhere within reach. Obviously, I learned how to use a few common guns, and was more than a little comfortable with knives, but the machete made me feel safe.