Secrets of the Jaguar (Crimson Romance)

by Jaye Shields

  There was no argument, no words. Michelle nodded before turning and all but running down the stairs and out the back gate.

  Chapter Eleven

  The days went by slowly for Michelle. She hadn’t shifted for fear she might find herself by the beach. Too close to Duncan. Their last encounter had left her so confused. He’d brought her into his home, but suddenly, she was quite obviously not welcome. She had been trying her damndest to forget that Duncan lived off of blood, but he looked like he might take a chunk out of her. She was angry he had caused her to flee the house like a coward. Michelle realized Duncan, too, was probably just as unhappy.

  Now she stood outside of her Maya professor’s office, waiting to catch him to discuss the term paper. Ditching the idea to write on the theme on the Maya ancient ballgame, she decided to ask the professor if she could write instead on jaguar iconography. Keeping her fingers crossed, she hoped she could spend her time researching what could shed light on her mythical origin.

  The tall, handsome professor turned the corner in the hall. At the beginning of the semester, she has been intimidated by the youthful man’s handsome face and worldly intelligence. However, her recent infatuation with Duncan made her forget her professor altogether.

  “Hi, Michelle. What brings you to my office this evening?” Professor Tecuhtli flashed a brilliant white smile at her, and she was taken aback.

  “Wow, I can’t believe that you remember my name.”

  The Maya professor smiled. “Your work has been impressive so far, worthy of recognition. It’s obvious to me you are quite interested in the subject matter.”

  “Totally. This is by far my favorite research area. I would love to be an archaeologist some day. Actually, I came to ask if I could change my term paper subject.”

  The professor nodded. “What were you thinking? Your abstract on the ancient ball games seemed interesting enough.”

  “I was very interested in some of the were-jaguar iconography you touched on in class. I’d love to do some more research on that topic.”

  “I’d love that. There’s more evidence of were-jaguar fascination in ancient Mesoamerican cultures than you could imagine.” He paused and raised a brow. “Interesting that you would choose this topic. I don’t think in all my ages of teaching I have ever had a student show any interest in this subject matter.”

  “All your ages?” Michelle was taken aback at the young teacher. “How long have you been teaching? You’re one of the youngest professors I have.” She blushed, hoping that she didn’t appear to be flirting.

  “I’m older than I look, but you’re absolutely right. But in my family tree are generations of teachers. Tecuhtli is an Aztec name, and it was natural for me to teach what is significant to my personal history. You are more than welcome to pursue your new topic. I look forward to reading what you have to present.”

  “I look forward to researching it. I’m going to be bummed when this class is over.”

  “Between semesters, I plan lead an excavation, and you could join me if your hard work continues through the end of the semester.”

  Michelle’s eyes widened at the opportunity. “Really?”

  “Certainly, you seem perfect for the scholarship position. Just keep up the good work and I look forward to your paper.”

  She was absolutely giddy. “Thanks, Professor Tecuhtli. See you in class.”

  “Always a pleasure. Oh, and do be careful on the outskirts of campus this time of night.”

  “Of course. Thank you again.”

  With that, she left the office and practically floated down the hall, eager to start her paper. The campus’s darkness did envelope her in chill, but she relished her night class because it gave her a chance to see the romantic lights of San Francisco up close. Tonight she was simply excited to get home and brainstorm about her paper.

  But when Michelle walked through the door to her apartment, she was immediately affronted with the intoxicating scent of stargazer lilies. Duncan had tidied up her apartment. No — make that immaculately cleaned her apartment. It was the only way she could appreciate the many vases of flowers he had adorned her studio with. Red roses, pink roses, and the stargazer lilies made her home look like a Valentine’s Day Hallmark card.

  Speaking of Hallmark cards, there was one on the table, barely visible since the huge vase of flowers took up the whole table. Smiling and overwhelmed, she never imagined she be the recipient of such a romantic gesture. Michelle opened the plain white card, which had two simple words on the inside. I’m Sorry. But then as she held the card open, music began to play.

  Soft, simple guitar strumming escaped the folds. The clean sounds of the strings Duncan expertly strummed made her sway on her feet. The song sounded somewhat familiar, but the soft, slow plucking of the strings remained nameless. Until finally, the guitar riff sped up a little and Michelle immediately broke out in laughter as she recognized Nirvana’s All Apologies. Duncan’s voice was rough and sexy as the lyrics escaped the confines of the card.

  She smiled like a lovestruck puppy. He had chosen the perfect song to lift her spirits. At the same time, the Nirvana lyrics were striking a new chord with her as they came from Duncan, a vampire’s mouth.

  Duncan’s voice was carefree and sexy as his raspy voice sang the words. But more than ever before, she realized the song came from a martyr. Before she could contemplate the lyrics more, it ended and Duncan spoke through the card. You once gave me an apology gift — yours is in the washroom.

  Michelle was completely surprised. There was more than an apartment full of flowers and the one-of-a-kind card? She walked slowly to her bathroom. The door was shut, but she could see candlelight emanating through the frosted glass windows of the door. Stepping inside, Michelle’s jaw dropped and her mind spun with surprise. In the six or so hours that she had been at school, Duncan had a clawfoot bathtub installed in her small bathroom.

  She had no clue how he accomplished it, but her mouth watered at the sight of the beautiful tub full of water. Steam billowed from the red rose petals floating on the surface. Large, white pillar candles covered every surface in the small room. Michelle wasted no time shedding her clothes and slipping into the elegant, cozy tub. As she inhaled the intoxicating scent of candles and stewed rose petals, she knew she was the luckiest girl in the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  Duncan smiled as he pictured Michelle coming home from school. She should have arrived a couple hours ago and hopefully, she was enjoying the bathtub. The installation was a difficult feat only because the washroom was so small. Duncan had been searching for a tub that would fit ever since the day she brought him the rosebush.

  Finally he had found a shorter tub than most but still deep enough for soaking, and would fit the measurements he took while Michelle was in class. He only hoped she wouldn’t mind him taking the liberty of misting into her place. And he couldn’t very well leave her apartment in the state it was.

  The day she had come to him with a rosebush filling her grasp, his purposeless life as a vampire was no more. Meeting Michelle reintroduced him to the beauty of the world. Her sweetness, her laughter, and her adventurous spirit made him relish every minute he was a part of the world. Even when she wasn’t with him, she consumed his thoughts and made him light as air. He had a purpose now, he could bring happiness to someone who deserved it more than anyone he had ever met.

  As he sang the words to All Apologies into the card, his heart struggled to understand what he could be to her.

  Cobain’s lyrics reminded him that although being with Michelle might make him feel like a man, he wasn’t. He could never be married and buried, grow old with a soul mate. He could only be a spectator to others spending their lives together in the sun and happiness. The song he sang to Michelle was to apologize for his outburst and inability to deal with the sweet scent of her blood. But to Duncan, it was apologizing that he couldn’t be a flesh and blood man for Michelle. She deserved someone she could spend a lifetime
with, have children with, and one day, leave for a better place together. Duncan wasn’t sure what awaited him, but he was sure that it was none of those things.

  He was not afraid to love. Hell no. But he knew for sure that he wasn’t worthy of giving someone love and expecting it in return. Because that person would be gypped. He struggled with leading her on, but knew Michelle was grateful to have someone to share her own secret with, and so he would be everything she would let him be. Even though she was awakening his body, and pumping blood to a heart he wasn’t sure if he even had as a vampire.

  • • •

  After the most relaxing experience of her life, Michelle pulled out her laptop to begin researching were-jaguar iconography. Using the school search engine, she clicked on the first link, Sterling Hypothesis, and began reading.

  According to Micky Sterling, all the were-jaguar images in the Olmec civilization were a result of the mating between a jaguar and a human. Several images followed, the first a cave painting at Oxtitlan. In the picture, a large spotted jaguar stood on two feet. Directly behind the jaguar stood a tall dark male, his genitals a vivid image protruding toward the jaguar before him.

  Please tell me this is not the secret to my existence.

  All night her eyes were glued to her glowing computer screen. Sleep eluded her as she investigated the countless images and theories of Mesoamerican jaguar iconography.

  Most of the information she found was from anthropologists explaining why the jaguar imagery was so important to the ancient Mesoamerican civilizations. The jaguar was a noble predator and adept hunter on the land, in the trees, and even in the water. The jaguar reigned at night and during the day and represented everything from fertility to supernatural ability. Finally, one very different website caught her attention.

  She moved her cursor over the link titled what the anthropologists don’t want you to know. The website opened to an image of an unsmiling older man with a long, white beard. To the left of the image the author wrote:

  “My name is Joseph Stahl and I was once at the top of my field in archaeology. Until I made a discovery nobody wanted to swallow. The information I reveal in this blog is information that shattered my career, my reputation, and a lifetime of work.

  My colleagues and I spent most of our time in a small Olmec site near La Venta. The entrance to the cave was sealed by a colossal head displaying typical Olmec characteristics such as the ominous slanted eyes and flared brows and lips. Eventually we made our way into the cave and were greeted by a disturbing scene. Skeletons littered the floor, every bone entwined with modern attire. Guns and bullets also lay scattered around in reckless, violent abandon.

  It seemed obvious to me the site had already been found, and possibly looted, by robbers. As we continued into the cave, we found something incredible. It was obvious where the grave robbers were headed but were unable to reach. My colleagues and I stood agape at the large jaguar mouth carved into the walls, as if to represent a doorway or threshold to somewhere. The lines were etched deep in the cold stone, and the angry furrowed brows of the Olmec-stylized face glared back at me. It was as if the face was daring me to seek out what lay beyond the open mouth of the jaguar threshold.

  Many Olmec sites feature the same open jaguar mouth, which is widely believed to symbolize a cave entrance, but this carving was different. In front of the cave wall was a stela and altar. Driven by our occupational and personal curiosity, my team unveiled the contents hidden for thousands of years beneath the altar. Blood-soaked papers filled the cache along with jaguar skeletal remains and pottery. The pottery displayed scenes of humans and were-jaguar figures in what seemed to be sexual positions.

  This were-jaguar iconography is significant to the Olmec, but it was at the back of the cave where we found our most startling discovery: the remains of men women and children all buried with a jaguar in their arms. Jaguars were often buried with the elite, but it was the detailed layout of the remains that left us wondering more about these particular Olmec people who seemed to worship jaguars on a more intimate level. In the same cave it is important to note that there is a cenote, a sinkhole, which were often held as sacred. I believe the jaguar worshippers came to this spot because they believed the cave cenote to be a portal, or gateway, for the jaguar god from the nether world, Xibalba.

  After years of excavating the site, I was and still am convinced that this particular clan of Olmec people participated in bestiality, perhaps trying to ensure that offspring would have the predatory and magical skills of the jaguar spirit. If not real physical bestiality, then the people created important rituals that acted out copulation between the human and the jaguar. The point would have been to manifest energies that would pass the powerful traits of the jaguar to the clan children being born to the blood-letting individual. These all took place near the cenote and jaguar doorway carving.

  Too many artifacts at the site described to me a life where the jaguar infiltrated every level of existence. Both men and women were often portrayed as half-jaguar, even children, and these children were highly celebrated. It was also obvious to me that life in this clan was led by a powerful shaman.

  Looking back, I suppose an archaeologist should avoid the term bestiality when referring to an ancient people. I’ve been called a racist bigot, an illiterate hippie, and a lunatic. I still maintain that these images reflect scenes from their heavens and underworld. However, there is no way these copulation images represent punishment in some sort of underworld, because the process seems so obviously worshipped.

  I am still convinced there is something unique about these people that will blow our minds if we ever solidify the significance of the jaguars. Unfortunately, the blatant refusal to investigate even the “oddest” or most “outlandish” theories is holding Olmec archaeology back. My resources for archaeological investigations are nil; I can only hope that a new generation of archaeologists will emerge who challenge mainstream thought. Only then can we tap into the ancient peoples of the world.

  Michelle took a deep breath. I would definitely think this guy was nuts. If I weren’t a shape shifter, of course.

  Shutting her laptop, Michelle decided to let sleep finally consume her. As her eyes closed, she fell asleep with the image of the cave haunting her mind.

  • • •

  The dreamland that stretched across Michelle’s subconscious was thick jungle. A dirt pathway lay before her, leading through a fog-laden tropical forest. The mist was so thick she could hardly see past her arms stretched out before her, her fingers twisting in the wet air. A cute howler monkey leapt down from the jungle canopy and landed on her shoulder. In real life the creature would frighten her, but the dream primate assured Michelle they were good friends.

  Suddenly, it jumped down from her shoulder, landing softly on the ground, and ran forward into the mist. Michelle followed her new pint-sized friend. Her legs quickened their pace to keep up with the monkey as it disappeared into the fog, and soon she was running.

  The mist suddenly evaporated and Michelle skidded to a halt before running smack into the jagged stone of a mountain. The howler smiled up at Michelle and pointed with a nimble finger before taking off in a flash.

  The monkey had pointed to a cave entrance. As Michelle closed in on it, she noted the glow of fire coming from inside. Standing at the entrance of the cave, she took in the sight before her. Every inch of the cave floor was covered by a kneeling body. The people bowed their heads to the cold stone ground in the direction of a massive sinkhole. Save for the glimmer from the fire, the water that filled the sinkhole was black. On the walls surrounding the sinkhole was a massive stone carving of a jaguar mouth. Before her dreaming eyes, the deep carvings into the stone wall began to glow with a hazy, white light. Lightness began coming from the water.

  White light nearly blinded her, and even in her deep state of sleep, she wondered if morning sun was coming through her blinds. Instead, the cave flashed with brilliance and she saw stars.

 
The prisms blurring her vision finally subsided and she gaped at the dream creature before her. Walking slowly out of the cenote water came a goddess with deeply tanned skin and glowing, golden eyes framed by dark hair that clung to her curves and trailed on the ground behind her. An intricately woven, brilliantly blue skirt wrapped around the womanly being, but her breasts were bare save for a gigantic jade necklace. Jade earspools the size of fists took up the entirety of the woman’s ears. Curling around her head was a slithering, green snake. Slipping its forked tongue in and out quickly, the snake seemed quite at home in its position as a headdress.

  Michelle watched the locals who had been bent in worship slowly rise. They whispered excitedly in a language she had never heard but understood. “Ixchel, the Jaguar goddess of fertility … Which lucky male will she choose to mate with?”

  Suddenly the goddess’s perfect, smooth, tanned skin was penetrated by thick, spiny black hair follicles. Starting from the tip of her toes and fingers, thick hair spread across the voluptuous body. The neck grew thick and furry beneath the jade stone necklace.

  The goddess licked her lips, and her sensual tongue flicked out and became enlarged, lapping out with the tongue of a jaguar. Golden hair took over the goddess’s body, rivaling the golden hue of her cat-like eyes, black patches adorned her fur in a random assortment, and the goddess fully embodied a jaguar.

  Standing on two strong hind legs, the jaguar still looked every bit a goddess from the sumptuous blue dress and jade ear spools to the slithering snake on her head. Then the goddess Ixchel reached out and Michelle floated toward her. Helpless to halt the direction of the dream, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the golden gaze riveted on her. Closer. Closer Michelle’s body came to the Jaguar goddess.

  She heard frenzied whispers coming from the ground behind her.

  “Life. Fertility. Power.”

  The amber cat-eyes bore into Michelle. Then the goddess smiled, flashing long, jagged canines. In a half-human, half jaguar roar the goddess spoke. “Ixchel!” The snake hissed violently from its perch and Michelle choked on the effects of the nightmare.