Moon Fever

by Susan Sizemore, Maggie Shayne, Lori Handeland

  At one point, Jessica sensed another presence and stopped. She listened to the noises around her. Something shifted nearby in the underbrush, and she whispered, “Antonio.”

  The shaman paused and picked up his head, as if scenting the wind. With a smile, he unerringly pointed toward the thick underbrush yards away.

  She followed the direction of his arm and saw it then, just a flash of gold and brown amid the deep emerald foliage. Whipping the rifle around, she trained it on the blur she had seen, sighted the rifle as a massive gold-brown head came into view, thick pink tongue lolling from its mouth, sharp white fangs visible even at this distance.

  “Do not worry, Jessica. It’s a good spirit come to guide us,” Antonio said, but she kept the rifle trained on the large jaguar.

  The animal paused, eyeing them, and a low rumble came from its mouth. She tightened her finger on the trigger, but then, as she met the cat’s intense eyes, she realized that there was no danger in the somehow familiar gaze.

  Lowering the rifle, she accepted that maybe it was a good spirit sent to guide them, sent to protect them. Something about that gaze made her ask, “Tell me about Javier.”

  Antonio chuckled and shook his head. “What is there to say? He’s a good boy. The light of our tribe.”

  The light, huh?

  “If Javier is the light, what’s Armando?”

  Antonio stopped short and faced her silently. She slipped her thumbs beneath the straps of her knapsack, fingering them before she added, “Javier thinks Armando wants to hurt the tribe. Why?”

  With a shrug, Antonio turned and began to walk again. “Armando and Javier were always at odds as young boys, maybe because no matter what Armando did, he could never be as good as Javier.”

  “Because of that, he wants to destroy the tribe’s lands?”

  “There are other reasons,” Antonio said as he plowed forward. She caught another blur of gold and dark brown nearby before it moved away from them.

  As she walked, Jessica thought about the many reasons Armando would have a beef with Javier, and the most obvious one came to mind. “The fight is about a woman?”

  Antonio gave a strangled chuckle. “Don’t men always fight over women? But no, not a woman.”

  He stopped in his tracks and examined her carefully. “Why does this interest you so? I though perhaps that you and Javier—”

  “Were at odds? We are…were. But after last night, it seems that I’ve become a part of their fight. That makes me want to know what’s going on between them.”

  Especially if she and Javier were going to continue their rather enticing interlude.

  With a nod, Antonio said, “Years ago, Armando’s parents came down with an illness that one of our American visitors brought with him.”

  “One of your brother-in-law’s friends?” she questioned, and Antonio confirmed it before he resumed their journey.

  “But what about this plant you’re taking me to? Couldn’t that have saved his parents?” she asked as she hurried after him, his steps surprisingly sure and spry for a man his age.

  “Sometimes our medicines aren’t enough.”

  Jessica understood. Sometimes man’s medicines failed, and death won the battle.

  They walked in silence until the rain forest canopy above them opened and gave way to blue skies and a large clearing.

  She stepped into the open area, viewing the vegetation surrounding the spot and the shorter ferns and grasses blanketing the ground. Mixed among them, she recognized the broad, almost succulent leaves of the plant Victor had drawn in his field notebook. Victor had always been a wonderful artist, and he had quite accurately captured the plant that grew in thick abundance on the rain forest floor.

  As Jessica bent to examine one of the plants, Antonio strode several yards away to one side of the clearing. He bent down and began gathering some of the plants. Jessica mimicked his movements, shifting to a spot on the far side of the clearing, where the plants were more plentiful. As she leaned over to gather more specimens, she sensed another presence.

  Standing, Jessica peered into the thick plants and foliage a few yards away. The leaves shuddered, then parted, as an immense black cat stalked into the clearing—a black jaguar. But this was a very different animal from the golden jaguar spirit that had followed them earlier.

  Jessica froze as she met the black jaguar’s gaze, malevolent and dangerous. She somehow knew this was the cat that had killed Victor.

  Now it was coming for her.

  Barely ten feet separated her from the huge black cat.

  She quickly searched the jungle around them. There was no sign of the golden jaguar she had seen earlier.

  The distance between her and the black jaguar was too short for her to draw her rifle, sight, and fire, but she did so anyway, praying she could get off the shot before…

  The large black cat sprang at her, jaws wide, claws outstretched to rip her to shreds.

  She braced for impact.

  Chapter 4

  T he killing strike never came, as a large golden body came out of nowhere and hurtled through the air, snaring the black cat in midflight.

  The two cats collided, one black and one golden, and landed on the ground in a tumble of sharp claws and snarling complaint.

  Jessica brought up the rifle, but the two animals were nearly inseparable, jaws clamped tightly on each other’s body. Sharp claws tried to rip and tear as they rolled around on the ground, one seeking dominance over the other. Clods of grass and vegetation flew into the air from the fury of their struggles.

  Antonio came to stand beside her. He laid a hand on her arm and urged her to lower the rifle. “The golden jaguar spirit is protecting us. You may hurt it if you fire.”

  She didn’t relax her stance, following the fight as the two animals struggled before her. Her arms shook. Her hands were wet on the stock of the rifle as she watched the bloody combat. She couldn’t lower the weapon, especially as it soon appeared that the golden jaguar might be waging a losing battle.

  The black cat was so much bigger. Stronger. It had a tight hold on the golden jaguar, which began weakening before her eyes.

  Gripping the rifle stock tightly, Jessica carefully tracked the two animals, and when the golden jaguar was forced to its hindquarters, it exposed the body of the bigger cat.

  She fired, striking the black jaguar high up on its shoulder. With an odd, almost human scream, the animal stumbled back and released its hold on the golden cat. It turned its head toward her and growled.

  She quickly worked the bolt on the rifle and fired again, missing this time as the bullet disappeared into the thick ground cover. The black jaguar whirled and ran away. She worked the bolt-action rifle once more and fired after the cat as it raced toward the underbrush, its gait awkward from the wound on its shoulder.

  Then she trained the rifle on the golden jaguar that lingered in the clearing, badly mauled and struggling to remain on its feet. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, and heavy rasping breaths shook its wounded sides. It slowly fell to the ground.

  When the shaman walked fearlessly toward the jaguar, she dropped her weapon and cautiously followed her guide.

  A large chunk of meat had been torn from high up on the animal’s hindquarter. Deep furrows marred the beauty of its fur. The other cat’s claws had raked viciously through muscle and down to pink-white bone. The jaguar’s muscles trembled and quivered from the pain, and its breathing was ragged.

  As they approached, its green-eyed gaze, a strangely familiar gaze, swept over them before the cat’s eyes rolled back in its head and a low growl of pain escaped the animal.

  To her surprise, Antonio kneeled beside the jaguar and laid a hand on its side. She bent down beside him. The animal quieted as she crouched closer to the shaman. Then he whispered, “Release the spirit, Javier. Return to your human form.”

  Before her eyes, the cat’s body shook, more violently than before. The gold and brown fur seemed to bleed away, fading from
site until it was replaced by human skin, heavily bruised and scraped in spots. Next came the loud pop and crackle of sinew and bone. Before her eyes, the cat’s skeleton shifted and moved, elongated and flattened from quadruped to biped.

  She watched in a combination of shocked horror and scientific fascination as the broad face of the cat extended, and the muzzle became a nose. Sharply defined cheekbones emerged from the flatter planes of the cat’s visage, and gold-green eyes—Javier’s eyes—trained on her face as the transformation slowly completed.

  Javier now lay on the jungle floor, bleeding profusely from a combination of bite and claw marks. Deep bruises marred large sections of his torso and arms. His muscles trembled beneath Antonio’s hand as his uncle talked to him softly.

  “Rest, Javier. We will care for you,” he said, and looked up at her, asking for her assistance.

  As confused and dazed as she was from what had just happened, Javier had saved her life. She would help in any way she could.

  “What can I do? I know first aid.”

  “Set up the tent. We’ll have to spend the night until Javier is recovered. I’ll make a mash to apply to the wounds,” Antonio said.

  Jessica quickly went to work, setting up the tent and laying out the sleeping bag within. She collected some deadfall, dry leaves, and branches she could use as tinder and fuel, because she wanted the materials handy when night fell so she could make some food, but also to keep away any animals that might decide to investigate their camp. She reloaded the rifle and kept it within close range.

  Antonio helped Javier to his feet and then half carried him inside the tent. Javier lay down on the sleeping bag. When Antonio emerged from the tent, he motioned to the campfire she had prepared. “Why don’t you start that? Javier will need to feed soon.”

  “Feed?” she wondered aloud. It sounded so animalistic. Not human.

  But Javier wasn’t human, only…

  He wasn’t an animal, either. At least, he wasn’t one right now, as she snuck a peek through the opening of the tent and saw Javier’s naked body. His magnificent naked human body, bruised, battered, and torn in so many spots that something inside her ached in sympathy.

  Antonio laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Do not judge too quickly, Jessica.”

  She withdrew and concentrated on getting the fire going and heating some of the water from their canteens to make one of the freeze-dried stews she had packed into her knapsack. She lost track of time as she worked. Antonio returned with a small bunch of ripe bananas and some papayas. He placed them on the ground beside the fire. She realized night had started to fall around them.

  Antonio sat beside her, and she grabbed one of the small bowls from her mess kit. She ladled some of the stew for the shaman. With a grateful nod, he accepted it, and she said, “Is there anything else we can do for Javier?”

  “I made a mash from the plant and applied it to his wounds. That will help him heal more quickly,” he said, and cradled the metal bowl in his hands.

  She filled a second bowl and said, “I’ll feed him—”

  “Eat first. Let him rest for now.”

  She prepared a serving for herself and ate it mechanically, the stew tasteless as she considered the impossibility of what she had just seen. Javier’s transformation was painful to behold on so many levels. Even now, the sickening sounds of bones and joints cracking and popping reverberated in her skull. She shuddered.

  “I’m going to see how he’s doing.”

  Without waiting for the shaman’s reply, she refilled her bowl, grabbed some of the fruit, and slipped into the tent, easing over Javier’s prone body. Someone had turned on the small battery-powered lantern she had brought, and it provided dim light, just enough to see Javier’s wary gaze as she came in and kneeled beside him.

  “How are you?” she asked. Her eyes swept up and down his body uneasily, noting the many injuries but also the splendor of his human form.

  One hundred percent perfect male, she thought as she beheld him.

  As a blush swept over her face, Javier grabbed the edge of the sleeping bag and covered himself as best he could, but it hid just half of his body and only some of his wounds. The smaller injuries had already knitted closed, thanks to the mash Antonio had worked into them.

  “Hungry,” Javier said, and motioned to the bowl she held in her hand. He was exhausted. She suspected that accepting his animal spirit and changing into the jaguar always took a great deal of energy from him. He needed to eat and rest to recharge.

  She slipped one arm behind his back and helped him to sit up. He grimaced as he did so but bit back a groan of pain. He quickly ate the bowl of stew and polished off a few bananas and a papaya before lying back down. Jessica watched him guardedly, unsure what to expect. He finally said, “Ask away. I can tell you want to know.”

  Jessica leaned close and laid a hand on his shoulder, as if to convince herself of his humanity.

  In a choked whisper, she said, “You’re a human now, but before—”

  “I called forth my spirit and became a jaguar.”

  She softly ran her fingers along the line of his collarbone, tracing a bruise there. Her gaze drifted over his body once again before locking with his. “The other cat—the black jaguar. Can I assume it was—”

  “Armando,” he jumped in.

  “Was he the one who killed Victor?” she asked, her gaze roaming over his body as if she still didn’t quite believe what she had seen earlier.

  “I think he did, although I have no way of proving it.”

  Jessica moved her hand to his uninjured shoulder. The other one had a deep bite mark and bruising from the force of Armando’s jaws. She winced and asked, “Does it hurt?”

  “It’s healing. If I call the spirit to return again—”

  “The spirit? Were you bitten? Like a werewolf?” she asked.

  “It can happen with a bite, but no. That wasn’t how I became—”

  “A were-jaguar.”

  He paused at her comment, considering how to answer. For his people, there was no such term, no stigma attached to the ability to take on an animal spirit. If anything, being chosen and accepting the spirit was something special. Beautiful. Respected.

  As he glanced at Jessica, he saw confusion but, surprisingly, not revulsion. He didn’t know why, but it gave him some hope that she might be different. Able to understand. So he explained how the people of his tribe summoned their animal guides and bonded with them. How they had a ritual for completing the union of man and beast.

  “So you use this frog poison—”

  “It creates a fever that prepares us for our journey,” he clarified. “The fever burns away our fears and opens our senses to the jungle spirits.”

  “And you chose to have this happen?” she asked.

  “My mother belonged to the jaguar clan. As her only son, it was my choice to follow in her footsteps or remain fully human as I was. As my father was.”

  A deep furrow marked the space between her brows as Jessica concentrated. “Could your father have become like you? Would a bite—”

  “As I said before, a bite may infuse you with the spirit, but if you are unwilling to embrace it, great misery can arise.” He shot a wary look in her direction.

  “And going from jaguar to man and back can help you heal?”

  “The transformation causes all kinds of changes, and during those changes, some healing can occur.”

  She swept her gaze up and down his body once again, before motioning outside. “I should go help Antonio.”

  He laid a hand on her arm. “Antonio can take care of himself. He will warn us if danger approaches.”

  Jessica brought her hands to her thighs and rubbed the denim there in a nervous gesture as she considered his words.

  “Is Antonio like you?”

  He answered without hesitation. “Yes, although he has a different animal spirit.”

  She thought of the palm headbands she had seen the night before. Javier wore
one for the jaguar clan, different from the one his uncle had worn. Different from that of the others in the tribe, which made her pause and ask, “Is everyone in the tribe—”

  “Not all, but many,” he said, and quickly motioned to the small bit of sleeping bag beside him. “Lie down. Get some rest.”

  As if I could get any rest at his side, she thought, but did as he asked, sensing that arguing would accomplish nothing. She lay down facing him, her head pillowed on her arm. In the dim light, Javier’s skin seemed more golden, and in her mind’s eye came the reminder of the lush golden fur with the dark, nearly black rosettes that had covered his body earlier.

  The scientist in her continued to hold out that his transformation wasn’t possible. To prove it to herself, she laid her hand on the deep, thick pectoral muscle of his chest. His skin was warm and smooth. Human. The nipple beneath her hand hardened with her touch. A human reaction.

  “I’m not some science experiment, Jessica,” he said, a muscle ticking along his jaw as he exerted control.

  “I know, only…” She hesitated before she moved her hand to the biceps of his arm, where bright pink skin had replaced an earlier injury and a smaller bruise was already turning that yellowish color that hinted at healing. “Would you ever have told me what you are?”

  “Would you have believed me?” he challenged. He reached up and smoothed a worry line from her brow. “Even now, you can’t quite believe. Maybe you can’t accept what I am.”

  “Don’t judge me too quickly, Javier. But even if you had skipped the part about being a were-jaguar, why didn’t you warn me about what was going on with Armando?”

  He chuckled harshly and pulled his hand away. “Would it have changed your mind, Little Miss Save the World?”

  She couldn’t fail to miss the bitterness that laced the tones of his voice, and it occurred to her then. “Your parents died when Armando’s did. When that illness—”

  “It took several people from the tribe. My mother and Armando’s parents. Armando blames my family and the tribe for his loss,” he said with a sigh.