Jaguar at the Portal

by Aimee Easterling

  "Don't tell him!" Finn ground out at the same time Tezcatlipoca demanded:

  Don't interrupt her!

  But Ixchel had listened to Finn—had, in fact, not even heard the grumpy god—and she clamped her mouth shut over the information that she'd been about to impart. And that, apparently, was the last straw, because the headache Finn had been battling for the last few minutes erupted into a roar just as he was pulled into jaguar form against his will.

  Let's see how you like being trapped, Tezcatlipoca broadcast grimly.

  The shifter snarled and swiped at the air, irate at the god and then even more angry at himself when Ixchel cringed away from his razor-sharp claws. He'd better get his act together...and fast if...he wanted to hold onto what was really important in this situation. Namely—Ixchel.

  Good point, Tezcatlipoca broadcast smoothly. So you'll talk the girl into coming along with us and we'll get back to work. Once she bonds to her precious goddess, then I can start over and exchange places with the bitch. And then you and your darling veterinarian can finally enjoy your just rewards.

  Finn badly wanted to be a better person, but he found himself tempted by the god's promise. The shifter had been hunting and hoping for a sign of another were-jaguar for the last decade, and who but a jaguar god would be likely to know if there were other shifters of his ilk kicking around in the world? It would be a simple matter for Tezcatlipoca to introduce Finn to his relatives—truly no skin off his teeth. The shifter was pretty sure that his personal god wouldn't go very far out of his way to fulfill his promises. But if Finn's prize was easy to grant, surely the deity would have no reason not to come through?

  On the other hand, Finn knew that allowing Tez to get his way in this matter would be a bad choice. Even though the shifter had picked up his (very small) dose of ethics only after reaching adulthood and joining the human race, he still knew that Tezcatlipoca's plan was morally repugnant. Of the two gods, Ixxie seemed the much better choice to set loose on the unsuspecting human population.

  And yet.... Was Ixxie's well-being really more important than Finn's own? Couldn't a goddess take care of herself?

  As he pondered, the shifter peered at Ixchel out of slitted cat eyes. His human companion had settled down from her initial fright as soon as Finn stopped clawing at the air and was now watching him with her head cocked to one side consideringly. The vet was smart, so Finn was pretty sure she knew that he and Tezcatlipoca were negotiating everyone's future in the silence she had not yet tried to break. And she likely also knew that she'd heartily disapprove of Tezcatlipoca's plan.

  But despite all that, Ixchel seemed willing to wait and accept that Finn would make the right decision.

  No one had ever expected him to make the right decision before. As a result, the shifter couldn't quite figure out whether Ixchel's expectations made him feel uplifted...or hemmed in.

  And even though his mind seemed to be squeezing itself in a vise as he worked his way through the implications of any potential actions, the shifter was certain of one thing at least. He wanted the leisure to find out how he really felt about having won Ixchel's trust before he lost her favor entirely.

  That, more than any ethical need to protect the weaker members of the human race, decided the issue for Finn. Not happening, he thought as loudly as he could, hoping the god would catch this broadcast but not the musings that came before it. Ixchel needs time to bond with her goddess without worrying that you're going to lock Ixxie away for the next two thousand years. So we're going to give her that time.

  Then the jaguar tried to transform back into human shape so he could warn his companion about Tezcatlipoca's wishes...but Finn found himself unable to shift. It was similar to the night when the god had turned him into a pussycat, but even worse since Finn had then been able to at least change his shape at will.

  Tezzie! he growled silently, using the diminutive form of address for the first time.

  Oh, are you realizing you need something from me after all? Tezcatlipoca bit out. The words were bitter, and Finn knew that the wind god must be feeling his lack of traditional worshipers most keenly at this moment.

  Based on what Ixchel had read out of her guidebook during their drive to El Azuzul, the shifter now knew that Tezcatlipoca's Olmec followers wouldn't have dared talk back to their god the way he was doing. And for good reason, too, since Tezzie was both immature and prone to lash out at those who didn't do his bidding in a timely manner.

  Well? Tezcatlipoca demanded. Are you willing to obey my simple request yet, or would you rather remain in jaguar form until further notice? I'll bet your lady love wouldn't like that very much, now would she?

  Actually, Ixchel seemed a bit taken by Finn's streamlined feline body, and he couldn't resist preening a bit beneath her admiring gaze. But Tezzie was right—Finn wasn't going to make any progress with the veterinarian sans the ability to talk.

  Still, sometimes one had to make short-term sacrifices for the sake of long-term gain. And, in this case, the only way to protect Ixchel's interests was to walk away.

  He would definitely miss his smart and sassy companion, but Finn knew that the vet would fare quite well by herself in the near future. The keys to the rental car were still in the ignition of the vehicle, and the shifter had been sure to purchase an international driver's license in the veterinarian's name while putting together the paperwork to make it easy for the duo to leave the country. Plus, Ixchel had Finn's cell number programmed into her own phone, so she'd be able to contact him once the shifter finished dealing with Tezcatlipoca and was able to change back into human form.

  The question was, would she want to contact him if he left now without an explanation, just walked away into the trees without a backwards glance? That thought alone set up a piercing pain in his chest that was just as powerful as the god-imbued headache Finn had fought off earlier.

  So that's what they mean by a broken heart, Finn thought, peering into Ixchel's eyes and willing her to understand.

  Then, without another attempt to parry words with the god, the shifter shut both eyes slowly in the universal cat sign of reassurance and contentment. And turning on his heel, he slunk away from the woman he was beginning to love.

  Chapter 26

  Finn had abandoned her. He'd met her eyes then turned without a word and slunk away into the woods.

  Okay, so it wasn't like the shifter could actually speak while in feline form in order to explain his intentions. And he'd clearly been arguing with Tezzie about the future just before shifting. So it was possible the wind god had found a way to lock Finn inside his jaguar skin for the foreseeable future and had then ordered the shifter to leave Ixchel behind.

  And yet, those explanations still didn't make the veterinarian feel any better. Finn's just like my brothers, she found herself thinking instead.

  But was that really true? After all, Fernando and company hadn't abandoned Ixchel. She'd been the one to squeal on her siblings so they were all tossed in jail, after which she'd left without a forwarding address. So how could the vet say that they'd abandoned her when she was the one who had walked away?

  Still, Ixchel had felt emotionally divorced from her siblings each time she begged a brother to stay home rather than falling deeper and deeper into his life of crime. She'd felt dismissed and ignored when each brother walked out of the family home nightly while refusing to meet her eyes. And she'd no longer felt like their sister when the young adults made up dumb lies to excuse their absences.

  But it wasn't until her favorite brother, Miguel, had blown her off that Ixchel really began to consider herself an only child.

  Of course, saying that he'd blown her off wasn't entirely fair either. Miguel was a typical middle sibling, with a nice word for everyone and always willing to make peace among his cadre of troublesome brothers. So, of course, Miguel hadn't really blown off Ixchel's concerns. Still, when she'd pinned her favorite brother down one last time only weeks before her ill-fated birthday, the peacem
aker had been unwilling to give an inch.

  "You want me to stay home, right?" he'd asked. Then, when his kid sister nodded excitedly, Miguel had explained the reasoning behind his refusal. "I don't like going out with the boys either, Ixxie." (He'd called her Ixxie, the vet remembered now, using the same pet name Tez had used for his sister god.)

  "Then why go?" the younger sister interjected. "Why not stay home with me? Are you afraid you'll lose your machismo if you don't follow Fernando's lead?" Referring to the boys' pride was usually bound to get a rise out of them, and Ixchel couldn't resist the chance to tease.

  "Of course not, goosie," her middle brother answered, roughing up hair that she'd spent an awfully long time taming just an hour before, but otherwise ignoring her verbal jab. Ixchel didn't even pretend to resent the manhandling, either. It had been far too long since she'd enjoyed such easy familiarity with one of her brothers, and she craved Miguel's affection.

  Plus, she wanted to hear what the peacemaker had to say for himself. "So...?" she prompted.

  "So, I go out with 'the boys', as you call them, to make sure nobody does anything stupid. You know you can't trust Antonio not to drown in..." He paused, clearly cleaning up his language for Ixchel's benefit, then finished: "...the shallow end of a swimming pool."

  This analysis was, unfortunately, true. Antonio was the second oldest sibling and had been a handful from day one. Or so their parents said—Ixchel hadn't come along until six years later.

  Actually, given the kind of trouble Ixchel knew her brothers had been getting up to lately, she was surprised Antonio hadn't managed to get himself killed...or to kill someone...while he was out joining gangs and holding up convenience stores at gunpoint. So maybe Miguel had a point.

  "But I miss you," she'd said in a quiet voice, meaning But I need you too. And Miguel had understood the unspoken words as well as the spoken ones.

  "It won't be forever, Ixxie," he'd promised her. "Just a little longer. I have a plan to make it all better. You'll see."

  But she hadn't seen. All that had passed in front of her eyes despite their talk was the continued parade of brothers coming home at all hours of the night with bruises on their cheeks, loot in their hands, and even more machismo than ever in their bearings.

  Then, soon afterwards, Ixchel had found her parents' blood splattered across the living-room wall. Which had made the scales fall from her eyes and had forced the teenager to realize that she couldn't remain part of the family travesty any longer.

  Which, in turn, was why Ixchel thought her brothers had abandoned her. The young men had promised to protect her with their lives but had instead forced their kid sister to grow up at eighteen and then find her own way in the world. The five of them hadn't forgiven Ixchel for her backstabbing despite their long history, and not a single brother had followed after to hunt her down. Not even Miguel.

  As a result, for years, the veterinarian-in-training had looked over her shoulders. She'd been afraid to see one of her brothers standing behind her ready to take his revenge...but she'd also been afraid of what she wouldn't see. In the end, Ixchel was most hurt by the fact that she'd been forgotten by the family who had played such a pivotal role in her life for nearly two decades.

  So, yes, in every way that counted, Ixchel's brothers had abandoned her nine years ago. Just as the next man she'd come to trust—Finn—had abandoned her now.

  ***

  "Well, that does it," Ixchel said to nobody. "It's time to find a bottle of water and, hopefully, some air conditioning."

  But she couldn't quite make herself move. The vet was ashamed to admit that she'd sat in the dubious shade of that single forlorn tree for most of the afternoon, hoping that her companion would eventually return. Surely, if she just gave him a little more time, Finn would pad out of the forest on cat feet and explain away his long absence. Surely he hadn't meant to abandon her without a backwards glance.

  But the sun was dropping lower now and Ixchel's throat was turning hoarse from lack of moisture. Plus, she was pretty sure that if Finn had meant to return, he would have found a way to ask her to stay put earlier in the afternoon, even if Tez was controlling the were-jaguar's ability to shift.

  On the contrary, Finn's body language as he strode into the trees might as well have been flipping her off. His lashing tail and slinking posture had suggested the jaguar was glad to see the back of El Azuzul...and, presumably, of the woman he was walking away from as well.

  Still, if the shifter had really meant to leave Ixchel for good, would he have allowed his backpack to remain lying on the ground beside their haphazard archaeological excavation?

  The parcel in question had been drawing Ixchel's eyes for the last hour, ever since she'd pulled herself out of not-so-fond reminiscences of her brothers' escapades. Yes, ask your darling shifter that question, Tezcatlipoca had suggested when the vet had pondered how her partner was able to pull a camping shovel out of his voluminous pack right when it was needed. And, even though the wind god had merely been trying to stir up trouble—Ixchel knew Tezzie well enough by then to tell when he was yanking someone's chain—she couldn't help wondering what Tez knew about her human companion that Ixchel didn't.

  And she also couldn't help wondering whether the contents of Finn's backpack would clear up the mystery.

  Of course, any woman knew that you don't go through someone else's purse—or backpack, as the case may be—without permission. It wasn't as if she and Finn were a couple, with behavioral hints indicating that he might be cheating on her. Even if that had been the case, in fact, Ixchel would have hesitated before invading her lover's privacy.

  "But, maybe the contents of Finn's backpack will help me guess whether I should leave his things here in case he comes back. Or whether I should take them with me."

  It was a self-serving argument and the vet knew it. But her hands were already unzipping the flap even as Ixchel promised herself that she was just sneaking a quick peek. After all, if there were electronics or other items inside that might be damaged by water, Ixchel should at least find a way to stash the items somewhere dry in case it rained during Finn's absence.

  Not that Mexico was currently experiencing its rainy season. Not if the parched state of the soil before the day's deity-induced deluge was any indication.

  On the other hand, if the pack was merely full of non-perishables, emergency blankets and other camping gear, then Ixchel should probably leave it where it was. The shifter might need equipment when Tezcatlipoca finally let him out of his grip. Plus, it would be good to know whether Finn had his cell phone on him, just in case he wanted to give her a call....

  The shifter's cell phone wasn't present in the pack, but Finn seemed to have tucked away everything else except the kitchen sink. No wonder he'd been forced to check his luggage before getting on the airplane, despite clearly not wanting to allow the bag's contents to leave his sight. Because the satchel was full of several objects that Ixchel couldn't quite identify...along with other items that she, damningly, could.

  There was a laptop, which Ixchel refused to allow herself to boot up. And little devices that she was pretty sure were spy cameras. The vet found something that resembled a toy helicopter but that she thought might instead be a surveillance drone. And there were also wads of cash in both American dollars and Mexican pesos, in addition to several other currencies that she didn't immediately recognize.

  Added to that evidence was a map of Ixchel's West Virginia county. A map with Mirabelle's dig circled and with various potential escape routes marked thereon. When the vet peered closer she also saw that yes, there on the corner of the page was her veterinary practice, marked "emergency medical care" and "woman lives above shop; alone from 6 pm to 8:30 am."

  He'd scoped her out. Finn had sat at the edge of the trees and watched until he'd sussed out his prey's daily routine. Maybe he'd even set up one of these clever little spy cameras to record her actions while he was busy checking out other locations marked on the map. Ixche
l shivered, remembering how she'd considered her practice's remote location a reason not to buy curtains, and she wondered what Finn had seen that he shouldn't have.

  The conclusion, unfortunately, was clear. The shifter whom she had so trustingly snuggled into bed with last night had considered Ixchel easy pickings. And she had proven him right.

  But I knew that, the vet reminded herself. How could she forget meeting Finn at knife point? The shifter had needed his bullet wound stitched up and he hadn't hesitated to take what he wanted. Surely that type of introduction wasn't grounds for a lasting relationship....

  And then I hared off to Mexico with this criminal? Without telling anyone where I was going?

  It had made so much sense at the time. Mirabelle was presumably hot on their trail, so Finn had talked his companion into using the passport listing her own first name with a last name she didn't recognize. That right there was probably a felony.

  Then Ixchel had told her receptionist to close the veterinary practice, but hadn't mentioned where she was going or when she planned to come home. Probably because she didn't possess either piece of information herself. But the oversight also meant that her traveling partner had nothing to stop him from stealing everything she owned and leaving her stranded somewhere in Mexico.

  Not that Finn had done any of those horrible things. Well, except for the leaving her part, which felt horrible enough.

  "You sure know how to pick 'em," she berated herself aloud, pushing each incriminating piece of evidence back into Finn's pack. "You'd think with brothers like mine, I wouldn't be attracted to the bad boys."

  Then, reaching up to grasp her necklace, Ixchel shivered as her mind abruptly cleared. Yes, Finn's past must have involved facets she definitely wouldn't approve of. But the shifter had never been less than a gentleman—knife aside—and he'd never lied to her. Instead, Finn had admitted to stealing the were-jaguar figurine, and Ixchel herself had seen that his antagonist—Mirabelle—was bad news.