Jaguar (The Madison Wolves Book 12)

by Robin Roseau

“Natural jaguars have the greatest biting force in the animal kingdom,” Zoe said. She ran a hand along my jawline, which was actually a little intimate, but I held still for it, although my eyes flicked to her mate for a moment.

  “It’s fine,” Zoe said in a low voice. Then, speaking more normally. “I imagine Anna’s bite is far more fierce.”

  I dipped my head for a moment, a human way to indicate assent. Then, with Michaela partially leading, she and Zoe worked their way around me, the two taking turns pointing out my features.

  “Ten feet if she’s an inch,” Zoe said.

  “With the tail,” Michaela agreed. “Anna, could you stand?”

  They did another tour, finally coming to another stop.

  “I’m sorry,” Zoe said. “I don’t mean to make you feel like a zoo specimen. But. Oh. My. God.”

  Michaela snorted. “You say that a lot around us.”

  “Can you blame me?” she asked. “You’re all some combination of stunning and gorgeous.” Then she slipped between Michaela and me. I turned my head to watch as she stepped back to my side. She bent her head and said towards my ear, “I asked Portia. Do you mind?”

  She wanted to hug me. I didn’t want to offer the coughs, so I turned to face forward but sidestepped towards her slightly to give her permission.

  She was tentative, but her left hand slipped down along my side, her right sliding over my shoulder blades. Then, still slowly, she carefully wrapped around me and offered a hug.

  I hadn’t been hugged while in my fur in a very, very long time. It felt nice.

  Zoe buried her face in my fur and breathed deeply, then turned her head so her mouth was near my ear. “You smell different from a wolf. I imagine they’re going crazy, but you smell good. Thank you, Anna. You’re breathtaking.”

  She backed away, moving to her mate. Portia first took her hand, then slipped an arm over Zoe’s shoulders and pulled her mate tightly to her.

  I bobbed my head. I didn’t do married women, anyway. Then they slowly backed away.

  “Well,” Michaela said. “I suspect everyone else wants as thorough a look. Too bad. I’m ready for a run.”

  Wasn’t she going to shift?

  I sat back down. The wolves still on two feet began to loosen clothing. Michaela stepped to the side of the room then jumped.

  And came down as a fox to slither out of her clothing.

  Well, well. The world was full of surprises. But there were more surprises for me, as over the next thirty seconds or so, the remaining wolves, in one fashion or another, duplicated Michaela’s trick, although they all climbed from their clothes before shifting from one eye blink to the next.

  Well, well, well.

  Michaela offered two quick fox-barks and turned for the front door. Zoe was already waiting, and she opened the door.

  I held back, letting the wolves run out in front of me. I thought that was better than jostling in the middle. But I paused when I reached Zoe, looking her in the eye. Then I gave her a small nudge as I stepped past her, careful to be sure I didn’t hurt her.

  “Have a good run,” she said.

  There was a low porch along the front of the lodge. Michaela was lying down on the edge, just to the right, with a half dozen wolves surrounding her. They were all watching the other wolves, running around in the yard, chasing each other. But when the door closed behind me, Michaela sat up, looked over at me, then, in a blur, shifted back into her skin.

  “I bet you don’t recognize anyone but me,” she said. She pointed to a wolf, hovering nearby and watching me. “That’s Monique. I think Elisabeth explained about our territory.”

  I dipped my head.

  “If she asks you not to go somewhere, please listen to her.”

  Of course I would.

  “This is Lara,” she said. “And Elisabeth. It’s okay if you can’t tell them apart. Everyone else up here are enforcers. You can tell which ones are the pups. They’ll try to get you to play, but that may not be a good idea.” She smiled briefly. “Sometimes we hunt, but tonight is just a run. Maybe later in the weekend we’ll hunt or play a game or two. All right?”

  I bobbed my head.

  “All right. Cold.” And she flowed back into her fur, as easy as that.

  Internally, I shook my head, but I sure wished I could do that. Wouldn’t that be convenient?

  Then Michaela gave three quick barks, jumped to the ground, and took off for the woods. One of the wolves -- I thought it was Lara -- gave a howl, and then the entire pack was running after the little fox.

  I gave them a little room and then bounded after them, Monique beside me.

  I’d never run with a wolf pack before; nor had I ever run with this many other people. I couldn’t say about all other prides, but the jaguar pride in Louisiana shouldn’t really be called one pride, but a loose collection of several small prides. A family unit might run together, but I hadn’t even done that in years. In my fur, I tended to be a solo cat.

  Oh, I’d had a few wolf lovers, but not many. See previous comments about cats and wolves, after all. But I’d had a few, two in Boston years ago, and two others over the years back home. And I’d run with a couple of those. The first, ah. The first. She was the Boston alpha’s cousin. She’d been sweet, which isn’t usually the first word one uses about werewolves. But she’d been sweet, and she’d helped me find the places I could run without encountering her cousins.

  So running with these wolves was a fresh experience for me.

  My cat found it disconcerting. My human side did, too, but at the same time, I was curious, and I let that side find pleasure.

  And, of course, it felt great to let my cat out. Oh, that was truly glorious, and it didn’t hurt my ego any to be so much larger than even the largest of these wolves.

  Compared to the big cats, the wolves ran oddly. Oh, I knew I was the odd one out, but from my perspective, their habits were strange, and further complicated by the pace Michaela could set. But there were so many of them, and they were loud in their passage. Oh, discounting the yips and barks of joy, as individuals they weren’t that loud. But they made no effort to tread quietly, either, and so they disturbed the leaves, grasses, and even branches, making noise as they did so. With so many of them, that was a lot of disturbance.

  But they vocalized. A lot. Quite a bit of it came from the pups, who seemed to make noise wherever they went. And the adults were lured into little games by the pups, so I heard mock growls and yips as an older wolf either chased or was chased by the pups. And I even saw some of the adults chasing each other or playing a little roughly, growling and snapping at each other, but then I’d see a few licks, so I knew it wasn’t serious.

  But the pace they set was wrong, too, by cat standards. Like my natural cousins, it wasn’t my style to travel long distances in a run. I knew from past experiences in a dash I was much, much faster than a wolf. But I also knew when it came to endurance, that same wolf could run me into the ground, and do so easily. If I had to travel a long distance in fur, I walked, and I was quiet about it besides.

  But the fox changed the wolves’ pattern. At first, Michaela had run, but after a few minutes, she slowed to a sort of trot, the type I thought she could maintain for a long time. And it was an uncomfortable pace for me, faster than my normal walk but much slower than any other pace I could maintain. So after that first rush I found myself sitting for a minute or two, then bounding after them and catching up to the tail of the pack, then sitting again.

  I couldn’t imagine what Monique thought of this as she tried to match her style to mine. Oh, I didn’t run faster than she could, but it was hurry and wait, hurry and wait, and I knew that wasn’t a wolf’s style.

  Tough.

  But it was a nice night to be in fur. Oh, far colder than I might prefer, crisp and overcast. But it felt good to know I wouldn’t overheat. And the air smelled good besides.

  And so we ran, or walked, or bounded, or whatever we each did, until we arrived at the overlook,
the pack plopping down to the ground in loose piles, most of them looking out into the night.

  Monique and I arrived, too, walking the last dozen yards or so but coming to a stop just outside the circle of wolves. I surveyed the scene and then sat down.

  Michaela was in a pile of other wolves, her pups with her. But I saw her stand up, turn around, and then carefully walk over to me.

  Now she moved without a sound, and she was beautiful besides, truly beautiful. But oh, was she tiny!

  She weaved her way between the wolves, and all of them watched her. Well, the ones that weren’t watching me, I supposed. She came to a stop before me, looking up. So I lowered myself into a relaxed crouch, putting my head down on my paws. And even then I thought the tips of my ears might be nearly as high from the ground as hers were while standing. Perhaps not, but it was a close thing, as far as I could tell.

  She moved closer, and then we were nose to nose, literally, one delicate fox nose pressed against mine as we looked into each other’s eyes. We paused like that for a moment, and then she stepped to the side, slowly walking all around me. I lifted my head and watched her. She walked all the way down my side and then followed my tail, stretched out on the ground. She came to a stop, looking over her shoulder, then took a tiny step before lying down, stretched out.

  The tip of her tail just brushed my haunches, and her nose didn’t quite reach the tip of my tail. My tail was longer than Michaela stretched tip to tail.

  She stayed there for several heartbeats, perhaps long enough to make her point. Then she stood and carefully stepped over my tail before moving up my right side.

  She reached my middle then began nudging my side, low, near the ground. I wasn’t sure what she wanted, but I sat back up, and that seemed to satisfy her.

  She tucked in below me, passing underneath me like I was a bridge, and then turned back around and tucked in again, coming to a stop with her front paws inside mine.

  The difference between us was clear.

  She stood there, looking out from between my paws, and her back barely came halfway up my forelegs. She cocked her head and looked up at me for a moment, her mouth parted, her tongue poking out just a little. I wondered if that was a foxy smile. I wasn’t sure. If I were doing that, it would be for cooling.

  I couldn’t imagine she was hot. Not tonight. Was she?

  But then she looked back at the wolves, and they were all looking at us, none of them moving.

  I found Lara. I thought it was Lara, and not Elisabeth. I wasn’t sure which was which. I’d quietly ask Michaela when I could. But I found the wolf I thought was Lara, Elisabeth beside her, both of them watching Michaela and me intently. And then, when Lara was sure I was looking at her, she pointedly leaned over and gave her sister a big lick. And then she looked at me, then down at Michaela, then back at me again.

  And I recognized a wolfy grin.

  So I looked down at Michaela and then bent down and gave her a big cat lick.

  She exploded out from underneath me. Oh, she was fast! Yes, I got a good lick in, but only one, and then she was two feet in front of me, looking over her shoulder at me.

  Around me, the wolves responded with the sound I knew they used for amusement. I wondered if I’d been set up.

  And then Michaela flicked her tail in my face.

  Oh, I know it wasn’t an accident. She had to stretch to reach that high, after all. No, it was quite deliberate, and I thought she was chastising me for the lick. But she flicked her tail in my face, and I couldn’t help it. Really I couldn’t.

  I took a swipe at it.

  Oh, I wouldn’t have hurt her. It was just the tip of her tail, after all, and my claws weren’t out. But she flicked her tail in my face, and instinct took over. I took a swipe.

  I’m fast. I know I’m fast. Anyone who has ever played with a cat knows how fast they are. And I was a were-jaguar. I wasn’t some boring house cat. I was fast.

  Michaela was faster. She pulled her tail away from me faster than I could follow, and then she wasn’t two feet away; she was five, and she spun around to watch me besides.

  She glared at me. I looked at her with some amusement, but then I realized the posture of the surrounding wolves had changed. They were now on alert.

  Except Lara. Her tongue was hanging out, and I was sure she was laughing at me. I was sure of it.

  But the other wolves were clearly on high alert. I had two choices. Well, I probably had more than two, but rolling over and exposing my belly wasn’t even a consideration.

  I lay back down, set my head back down at my paws, flicked my ears at Michaela, and tucked my tail along my side.

  For a moment, no one moved. Then Michaela sat down, tucking her own tail around herself, and watched me for a moment. Then she made a fresh sound and suddenly bounded at me. I stayed where I was, and her last bound brought us exactly nose to nose.

  I couldn’t have done that with remotely the same precision as she had.

  But she was impressing the hell out of me, that was sure. She was tiny, absolutely tiny, and she stood nose to nose with me, alert and confident.

  Then she lifted her nose away and gave three quick barks. I had no idea what they meant. I wasn’t sure if the wolves did. She looked over her shoulder, paused a moment, then stomped the ground with one foot and repeated the bark.

  Stomped the ground. I can’t believe I wrote that. She didn’t make a sound when she did it, but it was clearly a foxy version of a stomp, and I don’t think it was the first time this pack had seen her do it.

  And slowly, Elisabeth stepped away from her sister and approached, taking a path similar to the one Michaela had taken a few minutes previously. Elisabeth approached, and I stayed where I was. The wolf came to a stop just off Michaela’s flank, Michaela watching over her shoulder.

  Then the fox moved around me. I watched as she plopped down beside me, stretched out as far as she could, her front toes even with mine, her tail resting on the ground behind her, not quite reaching to my rear haunches. She paused there a moment then bounced away, moving behind Elisabeth, and then beginning to nudge at the wolf, pushing her closer to me.

  Elisabeth pretended to ignore it for a moment, but Michaela continued to nudge, and when Elisabeth didn’t move, she barked at her besides.

  Elisabeth moved, but it took more convincing until she would lie down beside me.

  Elisabeth was not a small wolf. Even I knew that. She was strong and powerful.

  But beside me, she looked like a pup, and I didn’t think she cared to help make that point.

  But then Michaela took a couple of bounds, before slithering between us, and soon there were three of us in a row: wolf, fox, cat. Michaela easily fit into the gap between Elisabeth and me.

  Michaela wasn’t done. She looked at Elisabeth’s paw, quite deliberately, then she looked at mine.

  If I wasn’t sure the wolves would take it wrong, I would have grinned.

  Every were I’ve ever met has shared some things in common with me. Of course, we all shift form. Of the ones I’ve met, we’re all a different size and weight in our fur than as humans. And at least of the predator weres I’ve met, our resemblance to our natural cousins isn’t necessarily identical.

  The wolves can retract their claws, and they are far, far sharper than a natural wolf’s.

  Well, it turned out that similarity extended to Michaela. She lifted a paw, holding it out, and then I saw the claws appear. They were small. Dainty. I couldn’t imagine they were good for much, but then I thought about what she probably ate and realized she could do just fine with them.

  Michaela nudged Elisabeth, then tapped Elisabeth’s paw with her own before holding her own out again, the claws extended.

  Elisabeth didn’t look pleased, but slowly she lifted a paw and extended her own claws.

  They were impressive, I supposed. For a werewolf. All right. I was about to make Elisabeth happy.

  Michaela didn’t have to prompt me. I stretched out a paw, e
xtending my own claws.

  Elisabeth’s were longer, a fact missed by no one. Michaela slipped out from between us, stepped past our paws, then turned around. She looked first at Elisabeth’s claws, which weren’t at all canine in nature. They looked far more like that of a bear, with a gentle curve. But I knew both the tips and the edges were razor sharp. I wouldn’t want to face her claws in a fight.

  Then Michaela pointed her nose at my claws. Mine were actually shorter, although they had a much more pronounced curve and were perhaps sturdier. The tips were very sharp, but I didn’t have the cutting edges that Elisabeth had.

  I let everyone get a good look. But I wasn’t going to be outdone, not by a mere werewolf. For the first time around this pack, I opened my mouth in a big, wide yawn.

  Michaela bounced away from me a good five feet before coming to a stop, staring at me. Even Elisabeth scrambled away from me and was standing in an alert posture, facing me in a partial crouch. I turned to look at her and yawned again.

  Amongst the wolves, I knew the yawn was a calming signal. Nothing to see here and all that. Oh, it wasn’t at all what it meant when I did it. And I knew they were all getting a good, good look at how wide I could open my jaws, and how long my teeth were.

  Oh, the wolves might fight with both claws and jaws, but when it came to biting, I was the queen. Natural jaguars frequently kill by biting the skulls of their prey, sinking the fangs into the brain case. Natural jaguar fangs are long, and their jaws are powerful.

  And I was a were jaguar.

  Then I waited, but I left my mouth open, not wide open, but open enough everyone could see.

  Michaela edged closer slowly, then made a point of looking carefully, first from one side, then the other. Then she took several small fox steps backwards and shimmered. A moment later she was in her human form, crouched down and facing me. I closed my mouth and leaned forward to press my nose to hers. She stretched slightly to close the distance, and we nuzzled that way just a moment.

  “Anna,” she said. “Elisabeth beats you on the claws, but wow! That’s some bite you’ve got.”

  I sure did. But I wasn’t willing to give ground on the claws, either. I stood -- slowly, so I wouldn’t startle anyone, then backed away. Once I thought I was far enough from Michaela that no one would be startled if I moved, I took two bounds and leapt for a tree, scrambling up quickly to come to a rest twenty feet from the ground. Oh, I could have leapt the entire distance but I had a point to make.