by Cari Z.
"Do you have any meat at home?” Brigit asked as they drove away in her Range Rover.
"No, why?"
"Cecily, you've got a gigantic cat for a familiar, he's going to want to be fed and he's going to want meat."
"Oh.” Shit, she hadn't even considered that. Cecily was a vegetarian. “Maybe he'll just want to eat in his human form."
"You can't count on that, and by then he might be refusing out of spite. We can stop by a store on the way. We can get him some clothes, too,” she added wryly. “Much as everyone enjoyed the view."
Cecily was quiet for a long moment. “Brig ... do you think I made a huge mistake?"
"Honey, that assumes that you had a choice. The Goddess guides our steps, she sees all our actions. This might not be the easiest path for you, but she gives you what you need. You can do this.” Her voice was calm and confident. “You can do this. It doesn't hurt that he's totally hot, either. Don't let Katie over until he's trained."
Cecily did laugh now, hollowly. “She would go for him, wouldn't she?"
"I saw it in her eyes. Look out for her, hon, she loves you, but she loves herself more."
The residents of her apartment building knew what Cecily was, she had been living there for the past year, working as an aide to another local witch before her own summoning. Upon seeing the magnificent jaguar that accompanied her inside, the doorman grinned widely.
"Congratulations, Miss Mason! That's quite a familiar."
"Thank you, Jerry. Umm...” How did she say this? “Actually, I need you to add someone to my visitors list."
"Certainly, Miss Mason.” He pulled up the appropriate screen on his computer and put on his spectacles. “Name?"
"I don't know."
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You don't know, miss?"
He probably thinks I'm drunk, she thought unhappily. “No, not yet. As soon as I do, I'll let you know."
Thankfully, he let it drop. “Appearance?"
"Around six-two, at least two hundred pounds, dark skin, shaved head, brown eyes."
He typed in the information dutifully. “Any particular visiting hours you wish to establish?"
"No. I have the feeling he's going to be coming and going a lot."
That got two raised eyebrows. Cecily flushed but didn't blink, and Jerry lowered his eyes again. “Whatever you say, Miss Mason. Good evening."
"Good evening.” She walked to the elevators ramrod-straight, and only relaxed her posture once she was safe in her own apartment again. “Well, that was awkward.” She glanced down at the jaguar. “When you're human again, I've got to get your name. You can't just be the anonymous sexy guy entering and exiting my apartment. And I hope to hell you don't have to be walked.” That was a point. Maybe it was a good thing he could become human. That was Katie's one complaint about her stag.
She walked over to her spacious kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. One held meat, the other had some generic clothes, close enough to his size to wear out when they went to find him new things. Cecily's family was very well off, and being a witch capable of combating dark magic in a place like Philadelphia brought well-paying contracts from the city. There were a lot of people willing to experiment with magic without taking the time to learn the consequences, and too many of them required clean-up to leave things in the hands of normal humans.
The jaguar leaned up against her leg and growled at the bag. “Are you hungry?” she asked, then felt like smacking her forehead. It wasn't like he could answer her in this form. “Let's find out.” She pulled a rump roast out of the bag, unwrapped the brown paper surrounding it, and placed it on a plate on the tile floor. The jaguar sniffed the meat, picked it up in his mouth...
...and promptly took it over to her leather couch, where he sat and began to rip it into bite-sized chunks, spattering blood across the couch, the carpet, and himself. “No!” Cecily shrieked. She ran over to the couch. “No! Get into the kitchen!"
If cats could sneer, she would have received one full-bore. As it was, he merely turned his eyes back down to his meal and ignored her completely.
"Shit,” she hissed. She could force him into the kitchen. She prepared the spell in her mind, a compelling incantation, but let it die unsaid. She wasn't supposed to force him. She wasn't supposed to use magic on or with him without preparing him unless she had no other choice. “Oh, fine.” Cecily crossed her arms glaring at her familiar, who pointedly ignored her. “Enjoy it, you jerk."
Once he was done, lying on his side and licking remnants of blood off his paws, she got out the cleaners and started scrubbing the carpet. Champagne colored carpet. It was supposed to lighten the room. The effect would totally detract with rusty red stains on it, though. She hadn't had to scrub floors since her apprenticeship. Next, the couch, if he would get off it. Good thing it was leather.
Cecily was exhausted by the time she got to bed. The jaguar stayed in the living room, pacing one moment, flopping down the next. He clearly wasn't happy, but neither was she. She left her bedroom door opened and laid down on her side, listening to him moving. Tears threatened in the corners of her eyes, finally falling onto her pillow, spotting the cotton and soaking a few strands of her curled, silky brown hair. Crying helped to calm her nerves, and she finally fell asleep.
Weight shifted the bed, making her roll slightly. Time had passed, but she had no idea how much. Her bedroom was black when she opened her eyes, but the bright, glaring orbs of her familiar were in front of her in seconds. Worse, he was human.
"Goddess!” She sprang away from him, sitting upright. He glowered at her, all tightly coiled muscle and anger and ... confusion? Fear? At least he was wearing clothes this time, the baggy sweats she and Brigit had bought. When she'd bought them, at least, they'd been baggy. Now they were almost too tight.
"Don't cry to your goddess,” he said in his low, growling voice. “Cry to me. Tell me what you've done to me, and no magic this time to keep you from answering."
"I tried to answer before, I just ... I didn't know what to say.” She didn't know now. “I'm a witch. It was my summoning ceremony, where I call the familiar that helps to aide me in my spells and is my—my companion.” She hurried through the last part. “I didn't know it would call you, it's almost never happened before. Every other witch I've ever met has an animal as her familiar. You're different."
"Of course I am, I'm a were,” he replied angrily. “Not an animal. How could you make such a ridiculous mistake?” Even as he chastised her, a small part of her wanted to keep listening. He had such an incredible voice, vowels lifted and sharpened by his accent.
"I didn't realize it at the time! I've never done this before!” Cecily protested. “None of the senior witches told me anything was wrong. They were as surprised as I was when you appeared. And there's no way to send you back. I'm sorry, I'm very sorry, but I can't undo this. We're going to have to learn to live with each other."
"With each other.” His voice was thick with scorn. “With you. In this city, a place of stinking men and machines. You wanted a slave? Someone to fetch things for you, help you out of problems when your money won't work?"
"No!” He wasn't even trying to understand. “I don't want you to be my slave, my servant, anything like that! I want us to work together, I just don't know how yet."
"And I want my jungle, the heat and the smell of rain.” He frowned. “Neither of us gets what we want."
"That's not fair."
"None of this was fair, you are not fair. Why should I be fair towards you?"
"Because I'm trying, damn it!"
"Trying?” His voice rose to a roar. “If you are to try anything, it should be finding out how to release me!” Cecily unconsciously shrank back, very briefly terrified. He sensed it, and stood up. “Find a way, or I will break this spell myself."
"You can't,” she told him. “You shouldn't even leave the building. It will hurt us to be apart."
"I'm not afraid of pain.” He seemed about to sa
y something else, but took in her crouched, wary posture, then simply turned and left. Moments later, she heard the front door slam. After three minutes, she had the beginnings of a massive headache developing.
"Fine,” she muttered, hating herself for her timidity and hating him for his stubbornness. “Fine!” Getting out of bed, she stormed over to the front door, locked it, then spelled it shut with defensive magic. “Fine!" He wanted to go, he could go, but he wasn't getting back in. Hell, she didn't even know his name yet.
Her headache developed quickly into a migraine. Keeping her eyes open was painful, and light was agony. She drew the heavy curtains across her windows as a failsafe for the morning, took some painkillers and got back into bed. Anger had supplanted her earlier grief, and it was another hour before she was calm enough to fall asleep again.
When she woke up, the headache was gone. Remnants of the pain remained, little twinges that ached as she sat up, a brief residual pounding in her head. She put a hand to her face, scrubbing briefly. Something crusty crumbled under her fingers. “What?” She glanced at them, then down at her pillowcase. The cotton was stained with blood. Apparently she'd had a nosebleed in the night.
"Fantastic,” she sighed, then immediately began to worry. Was he back yet? What had happened to him? Momentarily forgetting her nose, she ran for the front door. Crap, if something had happened to him while he was off without her...
She undid the locks and threw open the door. There he was, in jaguar form, clothes lost somewhere to the night. The big cat looked at her, yawned, then stood up and padded into the apartment, working his head under her hand again as he entered. She shut the door following him in.
That was the key. When he was in jaguar form, their bond was stronger. Anger gave way to necessity and he returned to her. Probably he changed when the pain became too much. Enough to give him a nosebleed, too? Cecily touched her face again and sighed, then headed for the bathroom.
The day passed in a busy blur. Everyone she'd left hanging yesterday was eager to see how things were progressing, and all of them took their turn visiting her. Her mother was first, and that was just painful. Brenda was filled with resentment, anger and worry for her youngest child, and she didn't hesitate to express it to Cecily. “This can't be the only way,” she said, gesturing towards the lazing jaguar. “Melinda is just being close-minded. I'll keep talking to her, Cess, keep trying. We'll find a way out of this mess, I promise."
"Mom, it's okay,” she tried to placate her. “I'm sure I can work it out. I just need some time."
"Time? With this were-creature in your house, distracting you at every turn, being completely unhelpful? Oh, a mother knows, Cess,” she added. “No, I don't want that for you."
"It isn't a matter of what she wants,” Melinda said sharply a bit later. She and Brenda had passed each other in the hall. Their meeting had been frosty, to say the least. “It's a matter of what's possible, and separating the two of you isn't."
"He tried last night,” Cecily confessed.
"But he came back. He had to. It probably hurt him more than you, since he did the leaving."
"I think ... he might hate me."
Melinda shrugged. “It's possible. A certain breed of people prizes freedom above all else, and there's no denying that his freedom is certainly curtailed. But there was a reason you two were brought together, Cecily. Bonds like this are never made through chance. He needs you as much as you need him, he just refuses to see it. Remember: be patient. Don't let him walk all over you, though."
"I'll try not to."
"Good.” She pulled a cell phone out of her bag. “This is your new phone. The GPS system is linked into your father's detection network, like your laptop. If you get called for a job, the phone will show you the location of the incident and the color of the screen will indicate the strength of the target's magic. Ingenious system, really."
"That's my dad.” She wished he had come to see her. Probably he had already forgotten what had happened. Her father was the quintessential absentminded professor.
Her sisters were no better. They came en masse and bearing gifts, but their reactions were a mixture of revulsion, support, and utter fascination from Katrina.
"More meat,” Brigit said as she unpacked some bags, “And some more clothes. Katie picked these ones out."
"Make him become a man,” Katrina said insistently. “I want to see him try them on."
"Don't be a bitch,” Hannah snapped. “He's not a doll she plays dress up with, he's her familiar."
Danielle had brought her familiar up, but it was clear the fox was uncomfortable with a jaguar so close. She excused herself after a few minutes.
"So delicate,” Katie sniffed. “Let me know when you get control of him, Silly, I'm dying to get to know him better."
Yeah. She probably was. The thought of Katie putting the moves on her familiar filled Cecily with uneasiness and a stirring of anger, but she didn't say anything. It was just Katie's nature.
He turned back into a man shortly after her sisters left. He was still glaring at her, but it had lost a little of its force. “Your family is very opinionated,” he commented as he pulled new clothes on.
"I know. Please, before this goes on any longer, tell me your name. I need something to call you."
He was silent for a long time, and after a minute or so she didn't think he would answer. As she began to stand up he said, “Mauricio Oliveira."
Mauricio ... good, it was a start. “Where are you from?"
"Brazil. Born near Rio, but I left it long ago for the jungle.” Then he glowered again. “Which I would like to return to."
"Did you understand any of what was said while you were in your other form?"
"Some.” He shrugged. “More emotions than words."
"My coven leader is convinced there isn't any way to break our connection."
"Your mother thinks otherwise."
"My mother likes to try to think for me,” Cecily snapped. “That doesn't make her right."
"It doesn't make her wrong, either."
"Why are you being so..."
"Difficult?” He smiled grimly. “I'm sure you'd prefer something else, someone who bows to your whims. Fortunate for me, I don't give a damn about what you want."
"Is that why you left last night?"
Now he actually looked a little shaken. “That was a test."
"Did it hurt you as much as it hurt me?"
"You felt pain?"
"Yes.” Cecily laughed without humor. “You seem to think this is all fun for me. All you've done so far is hurt me. Thanks for the scratches, by the way.” She held up her bandaged forearm.
There was no mistaking the faint sense of guilt filtering in through their bond now. It was quickly masked with anger, but it had been there. “I'm going out."
"Out where?” she asked desperately.
"Not too far. I don't want to hurt you, but I won't stay here and be used to help you cast your godless spells, either."
"I'm weaker without you,” Cecily said softly. If there was only some way she could approach him that would make him understand her need ... but her plea wasn't enough.
"And I'm weakened by you. We're even.” He pulled the door open and walked away into the hall.
It was the beginning of an uncomfortable regime for them. Mauricio barely spent any time in her company in his human form. He would leave and wander the streets, never going so far as to bring on another migraine, but the pangs in her head were constant reminders of her failure to connect to him. She worried about him, walking around Philadelphia alone at night. Yeah, sure, he was a werejaguar who could rip almost anything to shreds without blinking, but he was more vulnerable without her protections. She had practiced all the spells, but he refused them. She in turn was made vulnerable by his absence. If he died, her power would fade. Without him close by, her spells lacked potency.
Even more annoying was the fact that he starred in every fucking fantasy she'd gotten hersel
f off with lately. She'd go to sleep, and every night she'd wake up with her hand between her thighs, fingers deep in her pussy as she came, with his name on her lips and his face behind her eyelids. It was stupid. He hated her. Why was she wasting her time dreaming about his incredible body, his voice, and that piece of him, somewhere inside, that seemed to call to her...
Cecily tried exhausting herself. Every night after he left, she went to the building's gym and did sword forms for over an hour. Cecily was a witch, but many creatures were more vulnerable to steel than magic, and so her mother had had her trained in swordplay at a very young age, along with all her sisters. Cecily had taken to it immediately, and was very competent with a saber. She could hold her own with longer swords, but the bigger they were the more difficult it was for her to wield them, so she tended to stick with smaller blades.
After five days, Cecily was completely confused. Mauricio in jaguar form was becoming more and more affectionate with her. He even lay on the couch with her and put his head in her lap while she watched TV. After he changed, though, he left without a word, not even a sarcastic one that night. She kept trying to reach him, to make him more comfortable with her. She bought Brazilian foods, a coffee maker, anything she could think of that might appeal to him. Nothing worked. He treated her with cold distance.
On the sixth evening, Katrina showed up just after Mauricio changed. She was dressed to the nines and smiling. “Silly!” She gave Cecily a fast hug. “How are things?"
"Um ... fine. You look nice,” she added.
"Thanks! I'm meeting some friends at the Roxxy tonight and I was wondering if you and Mauricio,” here she gave him a big grin and a quick once-over, “would like to join me."
"Oh, I can't, I'm monitoring tonight.” It was Cecily's shift to monitor paranormal activity with the use of some of her father's gadgets for this part of the city.
