Morgan’s Mercenaries: Heart of the Jaguar

by Lindsay McKenna

  Houston watched the puzzlement and confusion in Ann’s expression. It was time and he knew it. He’d been trying to delay this day, but he knew it would come. Ann was simply too intelligent, too curious, to let her near-death experience go without explanation. Before, he’d been able to distract her—with himself, with the attention he showered on her, the love he shared with her. At night, they slept in one another’s arms. He would hold her and she would sleep like an innocent child in his embrace. It was sweet agony, because Mike would not take advantage of Ann or the situation. He wanted to, but he didn’t dare. Things had to be that way between them or the solid trust that was being built would be seriously fractured. Mike knew this day of truth was coming and he hadn’t wanted to let his raging hormones get out of control. Too many more important things were at stake.

  Lifting his head, he gave her a strained smile. Today Ann wore a lilac-colored cotton blouse. It was very simple, the scoop neck accentuating her collarbones and slender neck. He watched as she nervously smoothed the folds of the dark blue cotton skirt again and again around her legs.

  Setting the knife and the papaya aside on a small red cloth where they had placed the rest of their lunch, he moved to her side. Settling behind her, he drew Ann between his outstretched legs and allowed her to lean back against him. He savored these intimate moments with her. They were natural. And they both needed it—and each other. Her dark hair tickled his chin as she lifted her face to gaze up at him. Their mouths were a bare inch from one another. The urge to lean down, to take that wild-orchid mouth of hers was nearly his undoing.

  “I have a story to tell you,” he began in a low tone. “And it may sound like I’m making it up, but I’m not. You’re going to have to trust me like never before. Don’t ask questions until I’m done, and then I’ll try my best to answer them as fully as I can. Fair enough?” His heart was beating hard and his fear sent a rush of adrenaline through him. In telling her the truth, he knew there was every chance she would leave him—today, forever. Yet Grandmother Alaria was right: Ann had a right to know. He would not live a lie with her. If she loved him enough, and he wasn’t sure that she did, then her love would sustain her through this coming hour of bare-bones truth telling, and she would remain at his side. But even that thought tore him apart. Did he want Ann to love him? Mike was more scared now than at any time in his life.

  “Fair enough,” she whispered. Ann took his arms and guided them around her waist, placing his hands in her lap and covering them with hers. How she loved these special times with him, alone in this beautiful meadow. She was grateful Mike did not take advantage of her need to be held. On some level, he understood exactly what she needed.

  “Okay,” Houston murmured, easing her head back against her shoulder, “close your eyes and listen.” He felt terror seizing him. Mike had known fear in his lifetime, but never this bad. The lump in his throat seemed to grow. To hell with it. He had to reveal who he really was.

  “My mother was part Yaqui, part Quechua Indian, born in northern Peru. She was one of ten children, a middle child. When she was six, her parents moved the entire family to Mexico City. She got a job and worked hard. She literally pulled herself up from poverty, eventually making a middle-class living as a typist at the U.S. Embassy. It was there she met my father, a marine corps officer attached to the embassy.” Mike nudged several reddish gold strands of hair away from Ann’s cheek, where the breeze wafted them. How peaceful she looked. His heart ached with the loss he knew was coming.

  “They fell in love with one another. It took a year for my father to get orders stateside, but once he did, they got married and she became an American citizen. I came along four years later, their only kid. When I was old enough, I realized I was different. For one thing, the color of my skin in a school of white kids set me apart, but it was more than that. It went a lot deeper. When I was nine, my mother sat me down and told me of her people’s—her family’s—unique history.”

  Ann opened her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes. Mike was gazing away from her now. His profile was marked with tension. Why? Feeling his turmoil, she automatically smoothed her hand down his darkly haired arm. “How were you different?” she asked gently. Instantly, she saw his brows dip. His mouth tightened. Truly concerned, Ann eased from him enough to turn and place her arm around his broad shoulders. “Mike?”

  A ragged sigh tore from his lips. “I—my mother said she was a priestess from the Jaguar Clan. I didn’t know what that meant—at least, not at that time. She told me that one member of each generation could choose to become a member of that clan. It is the oldest continuing medicine line in the Americas. Jaguars used to roam the U.S., particularly the Southwest, until they were all killed off by white men who wanted their skins for their women to wear.” He ran his hand through his hair in an aggravated motion and refused to look at Ann, although he could feel the probing heat of her gaze on him. Desperately, Mike searched for the right words, the right way to tell her.

  “Among the Indian nations, there’s always a family heritage of healers and doctors, just like there’s a line of people with other finely honed skills, such as artisans, weavers, hunters or leaders. My mother was a healer and a member of the Jaguar Clan. From the time I was nine until I was eighteen, she gave me special training exercises to do every day. She told me that at the right time, I would meet a teacher who would help open these gifts within me, the ancient wisdom I carried, genetically, and I would begin to use this knowledge.

  “I didn’t know what that meant.” Mike looked down at the grass beside him. “I do now…” His stomach tightened into a very painful knot. Unconsciously, he rubbed that area with his hand. Ann’s fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck eased the tension there. But then, her touch was always healing to him. “My mother said that I would have to go to Peru to meet this teacher. Well, as fate would have it, I joined the army and was sent to Peru over ten years ago because I spoke fluent Spanish and I was good at what I did as a training advisor. I’d long ago forgotten about my destiny, the event that my mother had said would happen at the ‘right’ time.”

  Lifting his chin, Mike gestured toward the distant village shimmering in the sunlight. “When I came to Peru, I heard all kinds of myths and legends about jaguars down here. How they would track a man in the jungle for days, look directly into his eyes, freeze him so he couldn’t run and then pounce on and eat him. I’d heard about the mysterious Jaguar Clan that lived up in the highlands, near the foot of the Andes. Things like that.

  “When Escovar shot that chopper out from under me, and I was bleeding to death, it was Grandfather Adaire who rescued me. I was dying and I knew it. I was a paramedic—I knew the score. And I knew that a grizzled old man draped in a jaguar skin with two younger students in tow wasn’t going to save my hide, either.

  “Well,” Mike rasped, “I was wrong. I’ve never told anyone about this, Ann. You’re the first to know….” He met and held her somber gaze.

  “Whatever you tell me, Mike, is safe with me. You know that.” She reached out and laced her fingers with his.

  He nodded, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it gently. “My life has always been in your hands,” he whispered, meeting her widening gaze. “My trust of you is not the question.”

  Her flesh tingled and a slight ache began deep within her. Ann knew that feeling, for it often occurred when Mike touched her, or even kissed her fleetingly. “Unless Adaire had a surgical unit hidden somewhere in this village, there’s no way he could have repaired your torn femoral artery,” she agreed softly.

  “Exactly,” Mike said, turning and looking across the meadow. His voice lowered. “I passed out shortly after that, from blood loss. I had this wild, incredible dream that really wasn’t a dream.” He pointed toward the center of the large meadow.

  “When I came to, I was in one of these huts like you found yourself in. Grandmother Alaria was with me, sitting serenely on a pallet next to me, just regarding me in a v
ery kind, motherly way. She told me she was the leader of this village and that I was welcome to stay with them. As I got oriented, I realized there was someone else in the small hut with us, in the shadows. I was very weak, and it took everything I had to turn my head in that direction.

  “I damn near had a cardiac arrest, for I saw this huge, stocky female jaguar suddenly appear and come toward me, where I lay. I thought I was a goner. She had a huge, flat head with the biggest, most incredible gold-and-black eyes I’d ever seen. I feared her. I started to look around for something—anything with which to protect myself from her charge. I knew I was fooling myself, because the jaguar is a massive animal. Before I could do anything, she was there at my side, licking at the wound on my thigh. I could feel her rough, pink tongue as she licked that area again and again. I felt this strange, hot wave of burning energy enter my leg. I remember moaning in pain, and then I lost consciousness again.”

  With a slight, strained chuckle, Houston shook his head. “Brother, was I naive back then. Grandmother Alaria laughed at my reaction. After I regained consciousness, that big cat lay down next to me, purring loudly and just watched me. I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. The cat just lay there, switching her tail every now and then and watching me like a mother might her child. Gradually, my fear was replaced with…something else. It was then that Alaria told me it was about time I met my guardian, this beautiful female jaguar who had saved my worthless neck many times over. It was the first time I ever met her in this reality.”

  Puzzled, Ann stared at his profile. Houston’s features were hard and uncompromising now, like those of the soldier she’d seen earlier in Arizona. “This guardian…does it have to do with your mother’s medicine? Her predictions for you?”

  Mike knew Ann would piece it together. “Yes….”

  “But,” Ann murmured, opening her hands, “how did this jaguar heal your torn femoral artery? That’s impossible, Mike.”

  He slowly turned his head. “I was demanding the same answers from Grandmother Alaria. I told her I was dead, that this was heaven or something. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t have survived my wound. I should have bled out in four minutes or less, game over.”

  “Exactly.” Ann saw a sheen of perspiration covering his dark gold skin. The suffering line of his mouth made her reach out. The act was intimate. As she brushed the tight line of his mouth, she saw the startled look in his eyes and the instant, burning desire for her. “I feel your fear,” she whispered, again caressing his mouth. It was a strong, good mouth. One she wanted to kiss, to cling to and learn from forever. The day was coming soon, Ann felt, when she would walk beyond her last fear barrier and do just that: fully love him. If only he would stop pushing her away…if only he would admit what was so obvious in his touch, his eyes and his voice.

  Ann’s touch was unexpected. Searing. Hope suddenly threaded through Mike. He captured her hand and pressed a long kiss against her palm. And then he pressed it to his cheek. “Ann, I’m going to tell you something now, and I pray…I hope you’ll believe me….”

  The words came out filled with such anguish that she didn’t know how to respond. “I know I’m pragmatic,” she said softly, “and I can’t explain how your guardian saved your life, but Mike, there’s a lot in our world that can’t always be explained in rational ways.” She shrugged. “I believe in miracles. I always have, whether science can explain them or not. Things like this, what you’ve shared with me, make me curious. They don’t scare me.”

  Taking the last of his fleeing courage, Houston met and held her warm blue-gray gaze. There was such compassion and love in her eyes for him. He felt it through every cell in his tense, frightened body. Still, he had yet to discover how much of his spiritual heritage she would truly be able to accept. “I want you to look out there, in the center of the meadow,” he ordered her darkly. “And no matter what happens, know you’re safe with me, Ann.”

  Puzzled, Ann watched him stand. He leaned down, grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. She felt his arm go around her in an almost protective motion and a warm feeling spread through her. “Okay,” she said “what am I supposed to see?”

  As she stood beside Mike, their bodies lightly touching, Ann watched the meadow. Though she couldn’t see it, she felt a strange shift of energy around Mike. And then she saw a dark, nebulous shadow begin to form no more than a hundred yards from where they stood. Frowning, she blinked. Was she seeing things? The darkness began to take a more identifiable form. In the next minute, there was a powerful female jaguar standing before them. Her gold-and-black coat gleamed in the sunlight.

  Gasping, Ann took a step back. Instantly, she felt Mike’s arm tighten around her.

  “You’re safe,” he rasped. Would she run in terror? Risking a look down at her, he saw Ann’s gaze riveted on the jaguar standing serenely in the meadow. His guardian looked at them, her tail twitching lazily from side to side. The terror, the shock on Ann’s features, made his heart sink. His gut tightened painfully.

  “Ann, listen to me,” he pleaded, “that’s my spirit guardian. That’s the jaguar that saved my life years ago.”

  “But,” Ann argued hoarsely, “she wasn’t there a minute ago.” She gave him a wild look and then stared back at the gold-and-black cat. “Or was she? Was she there, lying in the tall grass all along, and just stood up? The grass is four feet deep there…”

  Turning, Houston gripped her shoulders. “No,” he admitted, “she wasn’t lying in the grass, Ann. I called her mentally. She came on my command from the other worlds. That’s what really happened.”

  Ann gave him a strange, guarded look. Houston’s eyes were narrowed and intense, and she felt the desperation in his voice. Peering around him, she stared at the jaguar in the distance. “What do you mean, you called her? I didn’t hear your voice.”

  He smoothed some strands away from her cheek. Her face had gone pale. She was truly frightened. And so was he. He soothed her tight shoulders in a stroking motion. “You felt me call her, didn’t you?”

  Torn between the magical appearance of the jaguar and Mike’s intensity, she muttered, “Well—yes, I felt something…but—”

  “You felt me mentally call my guardian,” he said slowly and firmly, “that was all. Mental telepathy, Ann. It’s not something foreign to your understanding. I know it isn’t.”

  She swallowed hard. “Oh, God, Mike, that’s the same jaguar I saw when I was…dying, I’d swear to it.” She gave him a confused look. “She came first. She was standing in the light with me. And then she changed—into you…. Now I remember. Yes, you were the jaguar—and vice versa. Oh, God…”

  The way she looked at him made him want to cry out. He was losing Ann. He felt her slipping away from him as the fear, the realization sank into her. Grimly, he pulled her into his embrace. He felt her resistance and then it dissolved. “Just let me hold you, okay?” he rasped. When her arms went around his torso, he breathed a small sigh of relief. At least she hadn’t run from his arms—yet. She still sought safety there, instead of running away from him.

  “For a year in this village, Grandfather Adaire and Grandmother Alaria trained me to do what I can do now. They said I had the necessary skills and talents to become a member of the Jaguar Clan, if that’s what I wanted. At first,” Houston breathed harshly against her hair, “I was like you. I was scared. I thought I was going crazy or that I’d died and was trapped somewhere between heaven and hell in this insane place where the impossible happened every minute of every day. If you wanted a papaya to eat, all you had to do was think it, and it appeared physically in front of you. If you were hot, you could visualize a cooling shower from overhead, and it would happen within minutes.” He caressed Ann’s hair and felt her heart beating like a caged bird fluttering in her breast. Anguished, he wanted to somehow protect her from the truth, but it was impossible.

  “This place,” he began awkwardly, “is so very, very special. In North America, there is a similar place, a sister
to this, on the East Coast, in North Carolina. It’s called Spirit Lake. The Cherokee people are the guardians of it. Places like this—if you aren’t supposed to see them, you won’t. You can’t gain access to them without…meeting certain requirements. That’s why we’re safe here. The Brotherhood of Darkness, our opposite energy, can’t get to us here. This place is off-limits, in a sense, to them. That’s why, when you awoke that first morning, you felt different. You mentioned it a number of times to me.”

  Ann eased away just enough to look up at him. “Y-yes.”

  “It’s the energy here, the people who live here or visit here,” he said simply. “That’s the reason it’s special. They are heart centered, very spiritually advanced, and they can hold or create an energy or reality. This village exists because of them.”

  “That jaguar just appeared out of nowhere, Mike. How can you explain that?”

  The trembling in Ann’s voice tore at him. He gently turned her around so that they could watch the jaguar, which stood patiently out in the meadow. “I can’t…at least, not in a scientific way—a way you’d accept. Maybe later, when you understand more about us…”

  “Is she always with you?” Ann found herself wanting to know if the jaguar was a mirage or if she was physically real. Her fear was giving way to curiosity.