Shifter Origins (Series-Starter Shifter Variety Packs Book 1)

by Aimee Easterling

  But Finn's foggy brain knew that it was time to retreat before Mirabelle looked up and noticed another were-jaguar waiting in the wings. Unfortunately, Tezcatlipoca had other ideas.

  Not yet, pussy cat, the god cooed. Then the deity locked Finn's muscles into place so the shifter was unable to move from the branch. Let's not miss the grand finale.

  Finn wanted to close his eyes, to at least refuse the deity this next move in his game of cat and mouse. But, the jaguar's eyelids had apparently been glued open at the same time Finn lost the rest of his voluntary muscle control.

  So he had a perfect view of the strange events that followed. The boy had twitched for a moment after the bullet pierced his skull, but now the teenager's muscles relaxed into death. And as they did so, the ghostly image of a were-jaguar rose up out of the pit, wafted through the air, and was caught by Mirabelle's grasping hands.

  As Finn watched, those same hands transformed into paws, the older man shifting into a massive spotted jaguar at the edge of the pit.

  Slaying a were-jaguar turns you into a were-jaguar? Finn asked, and it was good that he was stuck in feline form or the words would have emerged as a shout.

  Oh, no, nothing like that, Tezcatlipoca replied. But if a were-jaguar kills another were-jaguar, then the winner receives all of the loser's power. Look at how big and strong Mirabelle has become.

  And it was true. Before Finn's very eyes, the other shifter's body seemed to swell, his muscles bulking up beneath his skin and fur. This isn't the first shifter he's killed, is it? Finn wondered.

  Far from it, Tez purred. Far from it. In fact, he's almost a demi-god now.

  Then Finn's muscles finally tensed as the god released his control. And as Finn turned to flee, Tezcatlipoca continued:

  You'd better run fast now because Mirabelle can smell you in feline form. And you'd make a perfect addition to his collection....

  Chapter 29

  "¡Ay, pobrecita!"

  There was nothing quite like being greeted by a long-lost relative with the Spanish equivalent of "Oh, you poor little thing!" Had Aunt Maria grown up in West Virginia instead of in Mexico, Ixchel figured the sentence would have ended with "well, bless your heart!"

  But the so-called poor thing didn't mind. To be recognized as family without even opening her mouth was a miracle, especially since the vet had neither seen nor heard from Aunt Maria in over a decade. So she allowed the older woman to enfold her into the first hug she'd enjoyed in the same number of years, and she tried in vain to prevent tears from streaming down her cheeks.

  "I hope I'm not imposing," Ixchel offered in rusty Spanish once her aunt finally released her grip. From the expression on Maria's face, though, the vet might just as well have slapped her relative with the mere suggestion. Never mind that Ixchel hadn't possessed a phone number that would have allowed her to call ahead and announce her visit, and never mind that the current hour was closer to the middle than to the beginning of the night. No, Aunt Maria was so excited by her visitor's presence that the older woman raced about her tiny kitchen for a full half hour, offering various types of food and drink in quick succession before her niece could finally convince Maria to sit down.

  "I'm sorry I've been out of touch," Ixchel said at last, when she figured her aunt was calm enough to listen. "You probably heard about my parents. And about what I did to my brothers...." The vet turned her face away as she spoke, afraid of finding either anger or pity in her aunt's eyes. But, instead, Maria simply patted her niece's hand.

  "A family should be together." The words might have included a faint sting of rebuke. But if so, the judgment passed quickly. "And here you are in Mexico! My favorite niece, come home to see her ancient auntie."

  Ixchel had to laugh at that, her gaze locking with sparkling eyes that looked so much like her own. "Ancient, are you, Aunt Maria? I don't think so."

  Although, truthfully, Maria appeared much smaller than Ixchel remembered, and more frail as well. This is how my parents would look if they were still alive, the vet thought, and was surprised when the usual veil of agony didn't drop across her thoughts at the inevitable memories.

  She couldn't resist taking a second to probe her feelings as if they were a loose tooth. And, in the process, Ixchel realized that even though she still missed her mother and father sorely, she was no longer devastated by their loss. Instead, seeing Maria evoked the recognition that she'd outgrown her need for parental protection years ago.

  Actually, Ixchel had worked hard to build her own life and business over the last decade...and she might not have followed that path had her parents survived past their daughter's eighteenth birthday. If you'd lived, Mamá, would I have gathered the gumption to veer off on my own? Or would Papá have walked me down the aisle as soon as humanly possible, leaving me to care for half a dozen rug rats by now while wondering what else I could have done with my life?

  It was the shock of her parents' deaths, more than anything, that had given Ixchel the courage to attend college and build a better life for herself. Similarly, the cosseted youngest child she'd been back then would never have dreamed of traveling to Mexico to track down her roots, and she definitely wouldn't have been able to fund such an adventure. Plus, that version of Ixchel would never have pursued her acquaintance with Finn....

  "So, there's a young man for me to meet?"

  For a moment, Ixchel wondered if she'd voiced her thoughts aloud. But, no. Maria was simply showing off her usual ability to read emotions as they flitted across her niece's face, and Ixchel couldn't resist a smile.

  "There might be a young man, auntie. But that's not why I'm here." Then, pulling out the cat necklace from where it had been dangling between her breasts, she pushed the trinket toward her relative as far as the chain would allow. "I'm here to ask you about this."

  "IT'S A PRETTY CHARM, child," Aunt Maria began, her brow wrinkled in confusion. But then, as her leathery fingers brushed lightly across the trinket, her face cleared. "Ah, yes, of course. You've come about the goddess."

  "The goddess, yes!" Ixchel was so excited she jumped to her feet and walked to the room's sole window, even though no streetlights brightened the night. Turning away from the dark orifice and returning just as quickly to her aunt's seated form, she continued: "Mamá gave this to me on my eighteenth birthday, but she didn't remember the words that I should use to swear to Ixxie...I mean, to the goddess. And now—it's a long story, auntie, and I'm not sure if I can tell you all of it, but—I need those words. Do you know them?"

  Unfortunately, Aunt Maria merely shook her head. "No, chiquita. I loved your mother, but I was never truly a part of her family."

  The vet sighed, reminding herself of the one fact she'd blissfully forgotten in her rush south from El Azuzul. Maria was Ixchel's father's sister, of course, not a member of the line that had passed down their tie to Ixxie from mother to daughter for who-knew-how-many years.

  The vet sagged back into her hard wooden chair in dismay, the exhaustion she'd been masking with excitement finally overcoming her senses. Ixchel had been so sure that Maria—this aunt who was still so attached to the old ways—would possess at least a few clues to help the vet in her search. But it seemed she had finally reached the last potential trail through the jungle and found it to be a dead end.

  "Of course, the granny of the wood has to know," Maria continued tentatively after taking in her niece's slumped shoulders.

  Was it possible one last path had opened up before her? "The granny of the wood?" Ixchel repeated, trying without much success to keep the renewed hope out of her voice. This so-called grandmother couldn't actually be a blood relative since her mother's own mother had both died years ago. So why would a random old woman know secrets that had been kept from Ixchel's own tía Maria?

  "Claro que sí. Yes, she will know," Maria assured her niece. "But abuelita lives half a day's journey away through the forest. And I'm too old to lead you there."

  The whiplash of constantly changing emotions wa
s nearly too much for Ixchel to handle, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. If she couldn't meet this granny after all, she might as well make the best of a bad situation and at least spend some time with her estranged relative before deciding what to do next.

  And where do I want to go now?

  The vet had fully expected the office to be at the forefront of her mind after a day and a half's absence. After all, the community's pets had been the focus of her life for the last six months. But Ixchel was surprised to realize that the idea of returning to her cozy little practice and to the animals whom she greeted by name no longer drew her as they once had. Now, when she thought of home, a vision of a tremendous black jaguar lanced across her inner vision instead.

  Not that meeting back up with Finn was a possibility for the immediate future. Not when he'd been the one to leave without a forwarding address.

  It's way too late at night to be making important decisions, Ixchel told herself firmly, forcing back another round of tears. When had she become so weepy? Everything will look brighter in the morning.

  "Yes, I can't walk that far. But your cousin's boy knows the path and can take you there tomorrow," Aunt Maria continued, seemingly oblivious to Ixchel's inner struggle. "Now remember, sobrina, the granny of the wood doesn't speak Spanish."

  It went without saying that the old woman wouldn't speak English either, and the vet silently blessed her aunt for teaching her the old language back when she'd been a pesky child. Perhaps Aunt Maria had somehow known her niece would need those skills one day?

  "That's okay, tía," Ixchel reassured her. "I haven't forgotten what you taught me."

  Chapter 30

  Aunt Maria refused to allow Ixchel to leave in search of a hotel...which was a good thing since the little village where the older woman resided didn't boast so much as a gas station. But the vet did try to fight her aunt when the latter settled her visitor for the night within Maria's own bedroom.

  "No, tía," Ixchel countered. "I'll sleep on the couch. There's no way I'm putting you out of your bed."

  "Then I'll sleep on the floor," her aunt rebutted and Ixchel rolled her eyes. As strong-willed as her aunt was, Maria probably would live up to her threat, leaving them both without a good night's sleep.

  And I wondered where I got my stubbornness from.

  Unfortunately, her aunt's house was little more than a shack by norteamericano standards, so there was only one real bed to choose from. I can't say "by American standards," Ixchel reminded herself. No, the phrase wasn't right to distinguish citizens of the United States when South and Central Americans could both lay claim to the same title. Funny how quickly those distinctions came back to the vet when she was in the presence of family once again. And how much of a norteamericana have I become in an effort to escape my brothers' eyes?

  But, even though her relative's house was small and drab in Ixchel's perceptions, Maria was obviously proud of her abode. And she was also proud of being able to offer a comfortable bed to her visiting niece. So Ixchel acquiesced, although she did take the time to grab a handful of pesos out of Finn's pack, tucking them away under her aunt's pillow to be found after she departed. Maria would be far too proud to accept money from her niece, but Ixchel would feel better knowing that she'd at least paid her own way. And Finn, clearly, could spare the cash.

  The financial matter taken care of to her satisfaction, the vet fell into the deepest slumber she'd enjoyed in years. Part of her intense sleep was due to exhaustion, but there was also something about knowing that a blood relative was right outside her bedroom door for the first time in nearly a decade that returned Ixchel to the tranquility of childhood. She'd been prone to insomnia and nightmares ever since leaving home a decade earlier, but now she slept without dreaming and didn't wake until unfamiliar bird songs pulled her eyes lazily open.

  Even though the melodies outside the window were unfamiliar to her, Ixchel allowed herself to drift into half-waking memories of huevos rancheros, rowdy brothers, and doting parents. The vet was just awake enough to keep her thoughts safely set in the distant past, when all of those brothers were still attending school and when none of them had fallen into troublesome ways. Instead, José would be jumping on his bed, already wired at the crack of dawn, and there would be cartoons on the television to keep the other kids amused. Miguel would be attempting to shush Antonio before he woke the neighbors....

  "I have to see her now, auntie."

  The voice of her second-oldest brother—the troublemaker—had deepened with age, but Antonio's intonations were unmistakable. Instantly, Ixchel's eyes popped open and she began peering around the room for a place to hide.

  "And that's why I called you, Antonio. So your family can be together," Maria said soothingly. "But Ixchel arrived late last night, the poor thing, and she needs her rest. Here, eat your eggs and she'll surely be up soon."

  Maria was right—Ixchel was on her feet and fully dressed in the time it took for her aunt to placate the vet's scariest brother. And before Antonio could get sick of waiting around for his kid sister to emerge, Ixchel had slithered out the one window in the wall of Maria's bedroom and made her escape.

  Sorry not to say goodbye, tía, Ixchel thought grimly. But it looks like I'd better find my own way to the granny of the wood.

  Chapter 31

  Tezcatlipoca had forgotten how much fun it was to play around with the lives of mortals. First on his agenda had been dear, sweet, little Ixchel. It had been so simple to slip into the veterinarian's mind, to emphasize the woman's own weakness, prompting her to root through Finn's bag. Then Tez had tweaked here and tucked there until the vet turned against her beloved were-jaguar. And all beneath Ixxie's wrinkly old nose too.

  Which wasn't strictly constructive, of course. After all, Tez's long-term goal was to hook his worshipers back up with each other so the humans could tempt Ixxie to take his place within the stone prison. But humans were endlessly malleable, so the wind god had no qualms that he might be unable to bend Ixchel to his will again any time he wished.

  Plus, the opportunity had been prime for checking whether Ixchel's continued belief in a secondary deity gave Tezcatlipoca a foothold within her mind. True, Tez's sister god possessed the ability to cut off his direct line of communication with the girl. But who needed to speak to mortals when you could twist their own thoughts in any manner you wished? Luckily, Tez's hypothesis had proven correct and Ixchel had been a breeze to manipulate.

  Take that, Ixxie!

  Teasing Ixchel had been a lark, but Finn was prey more worthy of the god of war. Any were-jaguar, no matter how far removed from his deity, was an opponent worth parrying with, and Finn was no exception. In the end, the shifter had held out against his god's wishes much longer than Tezcatlipoca thought he would. But Finn's agonizing regret and guilt after the younger shifter was gunned down beneath his nose were now echoing through the rather small confines of the were-jaguar's brain. Meaning that he would soon be easy prey.

  First you build them up, then you tear them down. Well, that course of action might work for certain people, but Tez found that he much preferred a more streamlined approach—first you tear them down...then you grind their faces into the muck.

  To that end, Tez figured that his primary worshiper had wallowed in self-imposed despair long enough. Time to give the lad something more solid to cry about.

  Yoo-hoo, cat boy. It was nearly pitch dark as Tez peered out of Finn's eyes, but both jaguar and god were able to make out trunks of trees well enough to avoid a head-on collision. Which was a relevant fact since it appeared that Finn was still running scared despite having fled from the now-bloody clearing hours before.

  Tezcatlipoca took a moment to drop into Mirabelle's mind, ensuring that the older, more powerful, but also more lazy shifter had given up on following Finn's trail long ago. The information was useful to have, but the god saw no reason to pass along that little tidbit to his prime worshiper. Not when it was so handy to catch Finn with
his mind wide open from grief and fear.

  What do you want now? the shifter demanded. Maybe I should have thrown your little statue at Mirabelle and seen how well he liked having a parasite take up residence within his brain. I think the two of you would have gotten along much better than we do.

  Tez was surprised to find himself slightly hurt by Finn's analysis. Sure, the wind god knew better than to attempt friendship with his worshipers. But still....

  It had been a long time since the deity had bothered to spend more than a few minutes within any single mortal's mind. In contrast, as a result of his current predicament, Tez had seen a larger portion of Finn's soul than he ever had of anyone else's. And in the process, the god had grown a bit attached to his pet's misguided struggles to maintain his honor.

  Although it was about time to shoot down the shifter's moralizing tendencies so that everyone could focus on what was really important here—Tez's needs. So the god told himself that he was just being expedient rather than resentful when he replied curtly: Maybe you need to get a little more oxygen to your brain so you realize the implications of what Mirabelle showed you.

  Finn's headlong flight slowed to a more gentle trot as the shifter struggled to obey his god's request. Not that Tez had any inkling that his wayward worshiper was actually being obedient on purpose. No, behind the mental wall that Finn built (and how had a shifter with no training discovered a way to block out Tez's feelers so efficiently?), the were-jaguar was probably second guessing each of Tez's words.

  What a doubting Thomas! And wasn't that just exactly what Tez would have done in the shifter's shoes? Perhaps this were-jaguar was worthy of the wind god's regard after all.