Fantasy

by Christine Feehan

  Maggie feathered a series of teasing kisses along his shadowed jaw. “You need to have a little more faith. Go now.” She was glowing at his words and she knew it. Secretly she had been afraid of falling for his dark good looks and the highly charged chemistry between them, his poet’s heart and his hunter’s eyes. Afraid after hot sex and coming together with such fire, he would simply walk away like the male leopards they so closely resembled at times.

  Brandt kissed her again. Hard. Possessively. Thoroughly. His molten eyes burned over her. “You be here when I get back. Don’t you leave this house and go exploring or trying to save some creature you’ve heard bleating. I mean it, Maggie. Poachers are dangerous. I don’t want you anywhere near them. And while I’m gone, don’t open the door to anyone, even if you know he’s one of ours.”

  She walked with him to the door, her fingers tangling with his. “I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to me, Brandt.”

  He turned to follow Drake into the night, hesitated, swore softly, and framed her face with both hands. “Maggie, be here. I can’t tell you what it’s been like searching the world for you, feeling so alone. Afraid for you, alone, without the knowledge of your people to protect you. Don’t leave me.”

  Her vivid green eyes searched his golden ones. “What is it? Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “I have a feeling, a premonition if you want to call it that.”

  She went up on her toes to press a single, lingering kiss to his frown. “Then you be extra careful, Brandt. I’ll be sitting safe in the house while you’re off chasing poachers. Maybe I should be worried about you.”

  “Brandt.” There was urgency in Drake’s voice and this time Brandt responded, hurrying down the steps after his friend.

  Maggie watched from the verandah until they were out of sight; and then she returned to the house, closing and locking the front door. Deliberately she flicked off every light so that there was no telltale glow to lead anyone to the house. Her night vision was extremely acute, much more so than ever before. She wondered at the changes taking place in her body. It seemed as if every hour she discovered something new, her senses enhanced a hundredfold.

  Her body was wondrously sore from their continual lovemaking, and Maggie wanted a long soak in a hot bath. The air, as always was sultry, but the thought of hot water was more than she could resist. In the bathroom she lit a single candle to fill the room with aromatic spice. The flame produced a soft flickering luminosity that danced on the walls. The water lapped soothingly at her sore body like a thousand healing tongues. She could see a dark smudge on the side of her hip where his fingers had dug into her curves in the deep throes of his passion. Her breasts were tender and slightly burned, matching her chin, from the shadow on his jaw. Even the insides of her thighs held the evidence of his possession. Deep inside her she still felt him. Still craved him.

  She fell asleep there in the hot water, dreaming of Brandt and his hard, capable body thrusting deeply into hers. Her body clenched, tightened; she thrashed, bumping her head on the tub. Maggie woke, blinked drowsily, and rubbed at her head. As she patted her skin dry with a towel, she noticed how tender she was. Her skin felt raw and inflamed. It was painful to pull on her clothes but she did, worried Brandt might need her.

  Maggie paced restlessly across the tiled floor. She was feeling sick to her stomach and there was a strange roaring in her head. She clutched her head, trying to massage her temples. The throbbing was increasing so that her head pounded and ached. Her bones felt too big for the confines of her skin. It felt as if her head might burst to accommodate the expanding skull. Was this what Brandt had worried about? Had it started? Experimentally she ran her tongue along her teeth to feel if they were sharper.

  Staggering a little under the weight of the pain, Maggie went to the bedroom, certain that when she lay down she would feel much better. She tried to rest, but the pressure of the mattress was too much to bear. As she sat up she felt a strange rippling of muscles across her belly, in her arms. When she looked down at her skin, something moved.

  Maggie thought she screamed. Her muscles contorted, rippled, and knotted right under her horrified stare. She could see something running beneath her skin, something like a parasite, raising her skin as the thing rushed beneath the surface. Her heart rate accelerated and her mouth went dry. All at once her clothes were too tight, too constricting. The material hurt her skin. Alarmed, she tore off her jeans, flinging them away from her.

  Fire raced through her belly and her legs went rubbery. She fell to the floor. “Brandt!” She screamed his name, her one hope in the midst of insanity. His name came out somewhere between a cough and a grunt. Her throat was closing on her, swelling, changing, so that her vocal cords weren’t working.

  The Han Vol Dan was upon her and she was alone and terrified. Her body writhed, a rush of adrenaline pumping through her system like an erupting volcano. Her skin felt raw, oversensitized. The merest touch on her body hurt. Maggie struggled to control her fear, to think while she could. She had to rid herself of her clothes before she no longer had fingers. Tears were running down her face as she stripped off her blouse and underwear. She couldn’t bear to look at her contorting body. She had thought it would be a quick change, not a vicious assault on her muscles.

  She crawled across the floor to the balcony door. The confines of the house were so stifling, she could hardly breathe. Maggie didn’t want to look at her hand as she reached up to slide the door open but she couldn’t help herself. Her hand was curved, knotted, knuckles extended. She managed to get the door open and dragged herself onto the balcony.

  A wave of fur broke through her skin as her spine seemed to bend and crackle, a thick matting of reddish hair with rosettes stretching endlessly. For a moment she was caught between human and beast, half and half. She could only wonder at the mystery of such a thing, how it could be that it had never been discovered, but then she was absorbed in the takeover of her body by the animal inside of her.

  She heard the noise of it—bones cracking, muscles snapping, tendons popping—as her body was reshaping. The sounds were horrifying, but the wildness caught at her, her senses heightening. The night rushed at her, into her, a world she hadn’t known existed.

  There was a long silence while the wind held its breath. Then the rain fell from the sky, drops landing on the cat sprawled on the balcony, panting so heavily. Maggie lifted her head and looked around her. Without moving her head, she could detect motion in the trees in a visual field of nearly 280 degrees. The shock was enormous to her, her mind nearly numb as she attempted to comprehend what had happened. She could think, but she was trapped in a body not her own, one totally alien to her. And deep within her, something wild and ruthless was striving to blend with her.

  The leopard came to its feet. Easily. Gracefully. Nothing awkward about the way the animal moved. The leopard was built for total awareness, with grace and intelligence. Deep within the animal’s body, Maggie had only one goal. To get out of the rain forest. To return to civilization where nothing like this could ever happen again. It wasn’t interesting or fun—it was terrifying beyond belief. Maggie Odessa would be lost in the forest, but the leopard had senses far beyond her own. Leaping from the balcony, making her way down the network of tree limbs, she ran fast, utilizing the unique radar in the cat’s whiskers to help her find her way.

  She had no idea how to get back into her own skin, her own form. This leopard’s body could not be hers. Worst of all, the female was spreading her tantalizing chemical signals throughout the forest as she raced away from the sanctuary of the house to find the borders of the forest. The leopard was in the throes of sexual awareness, rubbing on trees, scent marking, and scratching. Maggie was horrified when she suddenly became aware that the animal and she were both in need of a male.

  She ran faster, determined to remove herself from the influence of the wild rain forest with its sultry, steamy heat and from the effects of her overactive libido. She ran a
long distance, loping easily over fallen logs and up steep embankments. The river didn’t slow her down; she plunged in and swam, leaping to shore and shaking delicately. As she continued, she became aware of the mechanics of the leopard’s body.

  The faint sound of shouting, of voices carrying through the forest, nearly stopped her heart. The noise was a great distance away, but she instantly was aware of what it meant. Brandt could be in trouble. She was running like a wild thing and Brandt could be in danger somewhere. The thought was sobering. But what could she do, trapped as she was, imprisoned within an animal form? She wanted to sob with fear and frustration. Maggie forced her mind away from hysteria and tried to think logically.

  She had persisted in thinking of herself as two identities. One human, one animal. But she was neither and the creature running through the forest so easily was part of her. She continued to think, to be Maggie Odessa, but now in another form, one that was unfamiliar to her, yet felt as if it fit her.

  Once she identified that Maggie was still Maggie only in another shape, she felt much calmer. She slowed down, huffing out a breath, looking about her with the eyes of enhanced vision. Her vision. She’d had it all along, she just had never used the ability. She inhaled, drew in the scents of the jungle. She wasn’t a leopard, nor was she quite human. She was different, yet still Maggie.

  Cushioned paws allowed her to move in complete silence. She could feel the enormous power in the body she occupied. Unable to prevent herself from testing the possibilities, Maggie leapt easily onto a thick branch some six feet above her head. It was a simple, easy jump, and she landed perfectly balanced as if she’d been doing such things all her life.

  Maggie crouched in the tree and thought about Brandt. He had told her the absolute truth. She wasn’t two people divided; she was one who would remain Maggie Odessa. She simply could take on more than one form. A feeling of unbelievable power washed through her. What a gift. Her birth parents had given her a priceless legacy. She thought about the things Brandt had told her and she understood the need for discipline. She could control the emotions and sexual tension while she was in the shape of the leopard. Being in the form of a leopard made no difference. She didn’t have to act more of the animal, she simply wasn’t exercising control over the wild nature rising so strongly.

  The emotions were strong, but not unfamiliar. She certainly had wanted to be with Brandt, had enticed and tempted and seduced him as much as she would allow herself. The leopard was feeling those same things magnified by its primitive nature, the nature that was so much a part of her. Maggie relaxed, allowed the tension to seep out of her body. She could reason, use her intelligence; she could think things through, not run like a frightened child. And she could exercise discipline and restraint on her wilder cravings. The power belonged to her and she could do with it what she willed.

  Brandt had been afraid she would be unable to handle the transformation, had wanted to stay with her instead of going after the poachers. She was proving him correct with her childish actions. She needed to return to the house and calmly wait for him to aid her into returning to her other, human form. If he didn’t come within a reasonable length of time, she would use this form with its abilities to hunt for him and help him in any way possible.

  Maggie thought of Brandt’s words. How he had searched the world over for her. How he had always known she was his mate. How certain he was that they belonged together. She didn’t have that certainty based on years of knowing her heritage. She’d known him only a very short time, yet she felt it was right in her deepest soul. He had begged her to be there when he returned. She didn’t want to let him down. She wasn’t going to let him down. Brandt Talbot was her choice.

  Maggie leapt from the tree to land softly on the ground. She had been more alive here, deep within the rain forest, than she had ever been in her life. She had no intention of allowing fear to take that life from her. Of taking Brandt from her. Everything she had ever worked toward in her life was right here, in this wild exotic setting.

  She didn’t fear it, she reveled in it. The canopy, the flowers, the abundance of fauna in no way made her claustrophobic, as she knew it often made other people. The heat didn’t adversely affect her. She loved the rain forest and everything in it. And Brandt. She loved the poet in him, the unexpected surprise of his gentle side. He was the biggest reason why she wanted to stay and face what she was. Who she was. She would research the history of her species and do what she could to fit into the lifestyle.

  Maggie began her journey back to the house. The leopard knew the way, padding silently, scenting the wind, her night vision excellent. She was nearing familiar ground when the loud crack of a gun split the night. A volley of shots followed. Animals shrieked, a cacophony of sound. The trees above her head became a riot of movement, wings fluttering, monkeys shrieking and leaping from tree to tree. The warning was loud and insistent in the darkness of the forest.

  Maggie winced, jerked to one side, curling her lip to expose her canines as she took shelter in the thick vegetation. Her heart pounded out a rhythm of fear. At once she heard the answer of her people, a peculiar drumbeat, as old as time but effective, a kind of Morse code she should have known but had never learned. She couldn’t read the message sent by her kind, but she was aware of news being passed.

  Her first thought was for Brandt. She could taste the bitter edge of fear in her mouth. She didn’t want to lose him, now that she had found him. Why hadn’t she committed to him? Why hadn’t she reassured him that she wanted to be with him? Maggie burst from the foliage and began to lope back toward the house. She would pick up the scent of Drake and Brandt from there and track them to where the poachers had set traps.

  To her surprise, the leopard faltered, the front legs wobbling unsteadily. She somersaulted over a small branch, skidding along the ground. Maggie lay flat out, hearing the ominous creaking and pops that accompanied change. “Not now,” she groaned, the sound emerging from the leopard’s throat as a grunting cough.

  It wasn’t as painful, or maybe it hadn’t ever been. Maybe she had been so frightened that it had seemed painful because she had expected it to hurt. She itched, her skin erupting with fur one moment, then smooth and bare the next. She found herself sitting on the ground, stark naked. Maggie leapt up quickly, afraid of insects burrowing into her skin.

  With a little sigh she began to jog toward the house. She knew her way now—she had the same abilities as the leopard, she had had only to acknowledge them, accept them, and learn to use them. She had to cross her arms over the fullness of her breasts as she hurried, the jolting as uncomfortable in her chest as the ground was on her bare feet. The leopard form was designed for easy movement through the jungle, while her present form was a nuisance. Sharp leaves and bark lacerated her tender skin. She hardly noticed the discomfort as she pushed hard to get back to the house, wanting to track Brandt.

  The noise stopped her cold. A high keening sound, the moan of an animal in pain. She had heard it many times, but this time she inhaled the scent of blood. Without conscious thought, Maggie turned toward the sound. She had to go to the injured animal—the sound tugged at her.

  The bear was much smaller than she had expected, with smooth jet-black fur. It had a beautiful white crescent marking its chest. Its long tongue was lolling out of its mouth. She couldn’t help but notice the long and pointed claws it used for ripping into the bark of trees to uncover insects and honey. The bear was whimpering in fear and pain. It swung its head toward her as she emerged from between two trees and attempted to roll to its feet, but instead thrashed dangerously. She could see the thick blood coating the bear’s left side. The ground was dark with it.

  Maggie lifted her hand and went completely still, keeping her distance prudently. “Be calm, little one, I’m going to help you.” She needed her backpack, her medical supplies. She could tranquilize the bear and see to the wound, but she wasn’t certain the animal would survive while she raced to the house. The sight of
the small bear in such distress angered her. She knew they were a rarity even in the wilds.

  Above her head, some fifteen feet up, she saw the branches of the tree were bent and broken to form a nest. The bear must have tried to make it to its resting place. From the nest the bear would have a good view of the forest floor. She could see the hairless soles of the sun bear’s feet and the sickle-shaped claws as it lay panting, watching her with tragic eyes.

  The bear suddenly reared up, tried to charge, but was prevented from reaching her by the savage wound in its side. It fell back helplessly, baring teeth at her in warning. “I’m going to help you,” she promised. “Just give me a couple of minutes to get my things.” How far was she from the house? A distance still, she was certain.

  Maggie swung away from the unfortunate creature, knowing the best thing to do was to get her supplies as quickly as possible. The bear made a second pitiable attempt to rise, this time whining at her, a clear call for help. The sound tore at her heart. The bear was clearly afraid, straining to pull its weight into cover. She caught the scent of another large cat as she turned back toward the sound of the distressed bear. A leopard was in the vicinity, a male, and he was stalking prey.

  Maggie lifted her head to test the wind, much as the agitated bear was doing. She knew immediately this animal was more than a beast, he was part of the community Brandt lived in. And he knew Brandt had staked his claim. James. The idea of meeting him filled her with trepidation. His very scent offended her in some strange way.

  Had he come to help? Maggie hesitated, aware she was completely naked and extremely vulnerable. She hadn’t been afraid of the wild animals in the forest, or the dark, or even the wounded bear, but knowing another man, whatever form he took, was stalking her, filled her with fear.