by Zoe Chant
Rescued by the Jaguar
By Zoe Chant
Copyright Zoe Chant 2016
All Rights Reserved.
Overhead, the sun was furnace hot and eye-burningly bright. Octavia Mateo paused on the trail, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a bottle of water. It tasted warm, but it was still refreshing. She tipped the last remnants of it into the palm of her hand, and wiped her face.
She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a single soul since she had set out, and that was perfect for her. During the week she was always busy, always making decisions— and always surrounded by people who never saw her for who she was, but rather for what she could do for them. Out here, she could be alone. Out here, there was no one to make demands on her.
Her inner jaguar was happy now, sampling the sights and the smells, grateful to be out of the concrete jungle and into familiar territory. It was content to stay within her skin.
Refreshed, Octavia readjusted her pack and stepped out smartly. The trail was rough dirt, surrounded by bushes, but she kept an eye out for roots and other obstacles underfoot that could turn her ankle. Out here in the wild areas outside of Cancun, Mexico, far from people and normal mobile signal, any injury could be dangerous. And it would give the ladies of her social circle another chance to tell her that she really shouldn’t risk herself.
Worse, it would give her uncle Nicodemus another excuse to set her up with yet another rich but brainless heir to some fortune or other. He’d claim that she needed a wealthy man of her own social standing to take care of her. But Octavia didn’t care about a man’s money or class, but his character. And the men her uncle set her up were weak and boring. They couldn’t take care of her or protect her— if anything went wrong, they’d only get in her way. She could break them in half with one swipe from her jaguar’s paw.
Octavia longed for a man who was strong and brave, handsome and sexy— a man who she could laugh and relax with. A man she could enjoy talking to. A man she could trust and rely on.
But she sure couldn’t seem to find one. Maybe he didn’t exist.
With a sigh, she went on walking. The trail led onwards and upwards, the foliage around her growing thicker as she ascended. She wasn’t far from the tip of the crest when something new impinged on her senses. It was a strange feeling, like being watched— or, in fact, like another shifter was nearby, though that was impossible. The bare handful of other shifters in the area were all very respectful of each other’s territories.
The feeling persisted, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She could sense the eyes following her as she ascended, her inner jaguar beginning to growl in a warning challenge. The halfway point was marked by a couple of conveniently placed boulders and a weathered table constructed out of dead, fallen timber and rope. Octavia loosened her backpack and let it fall to the ground.
This was the highest point of her territory: from here she could see to her border, and beyond. The sensation of being observed was still strong, and she turned in a circle, scanning her surroundings. There was nobody visible on either the trail she had just traversed, or the trail yet to come. She lifted her head and took a deep breath, letting her inner jaguar taste the air. Another cat, and close by.
Unerringly, her eyes were drawn to the lone tree that clung tenaciously to life at this height. In full foliage, it made a perfect hiding place, and she had used it herself at other times. Her eyes scanned the leaves, searching for anything out of place.
The jaguar was well camouflaged within the leaves and the shadows, and if it wasn’t for her own inner jaguar she might not have spotted it. It—he— was lying on a branch about ten feet up, dull eyes watching her. The second their eyes met, he began to growl warningly.
He didn’t look in good condition. He was thin, underfed, and his black fur was matted and scarred. He looked like he had been in the wars, and he certainly was wary.
He could have been an escapee from a zoo, or a private collection. But although there was nothing human in those dull eyes, she was nearly certain that he was another shifter. Her own inner jaguar insisted on it.
“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight,” Octavia said, keeping her voice low and soothing. “What happened to you, I wonder?”
She wasn’t expecting a reply, and kept her movement slow as she retrieved her bag. She’d have to do without her rest stop this time. The jaguar watched her go, growling constantly. Her inner cat wanted to teach the interloper a lesson, to chase him from her territory, but Octavia squelched the feeling. The jaguar concerned her. He certainly wasn’t healthy, and if he was a shifter, then he didn’t seem to be aware of it. She had never heard of anything like this before, and was a little unsure of what would be best to do. Hopefully the other jaguar would stick around until she could contact someone for help.
As she made her way down the trail, the sensation of his eyes watching her continued to make her skin itch. She thought it would fade the further she left the jaguar behind, but it remained as a constant, nagging presence. It made her quicken her pace, hurrying towards her sanctuary.
The cabin was in the centre of her territory, nestled among the trees, next to a spring that burbled merrily away. Unnerved by the gaze, Octavia jogged the remaining distance to the door, unlocked it, entered and closed it firmly behind her. Almost immediately, the sensation cut off and she exhaled. Her inner jaguar relaxed.
Even though it was remote and isolated, her cabin was well stocked and well supplied with all modern conveniences. Being a billionaire had its advantages.
There were three rooms to the cabin: bathroom, bedroom and kitchen. Octavia left her pack in the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom, and her emergency satellite phone. She pulled open the curtains as she passed, and froze as she saw the wounded and wary black jaguar lapping water from the spring.
“Are you following me?” she asked rhetorically, and jolted back from the window as the jaguar looked straight at her as if he had heard. Spooked, she pulled the curtain closed again.
Secure again in the half darkness, Octavia took a deep breath and tried to compose her jangling nerves. She was not usually so easily agitated, but there was something about this black jaguar that affected her deeply. She risked another look, but he had vanished from sight. But she was sure that he was still there, unseen.
She crossed the room to her leather-topped desk and pulled out the satellite phone. Turning it on, she was pleased to see that there was a decent charge on it. She dialled the familiar number, and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the uplink and connection.
“Well, I do feel honored,” a familiar voice answered. “Interrupting your weekend vacation to talk with little old me.”
“I just couldn’t bear to go another minute without hearing your dulcet tones,” Octavia riposted.
“Color me flattered,” the voice chuckled. “So, what can I do for you?”
Octavia sighed. “I’ve picked up a stalker.”
“That was quick. Why call me, then? Turn into your jaguar and make him or her pee their pants.”
Octavia laughed. This was why she had called this man. Nicodemus Mateo was not only the chief of her R & D division, he was also her uncle, and a man who never failed to make her laugh. He was like a father to her— the only close family she had left. She just wished he’d stop trying to play matchmaker.
“Seriously, Octavia, there’s someone following you?” he continued after her laughter subsided.
“A black jaguar. I saw him on the trail to my cabin, and he followed me down here. He doesn’t look in the best of conditions, but there’s something ab
out him that worries me. He nearly feels like a shifter, Uncle, but wrong. Twisted.”
On the other end of the phone, her uncle hummed thoughtfully. “You must be worried if you’re contacting me. Couldn’t you just chase him off?”
“I don’t want to,” Octavia admitted.
“Ah, your big heart does you credit. What do you want from me? Surely not advice on the care and feeding of big cats?”
“Do you know of a way to force a shifter to change back to human?” she asked.
“That’s not a question that I’ve been asked before,” he said. “It is certainly nothing I know about. But that doesn’t mean that someone out there hasn’t an answer. Let me ask around, and get back to you.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Octavia said gratefully.
“No problem, and be careful,” he said, before the line went dead.
Octavia set the phone on the desk, leaving it turned on.
“Well,” she said aloud. “I can’t hide in here, and I’m not going to let you spoil this holiday.”
Suiting actions to words, she opened the curtains wide again, moving to the other rooms and doing the same. Satisfied that she was making progress, she grabbed her bag from the kitchen and set about unpacking.
***
Her rucksack was empty and the cabin was cleaned and organized. She had spotted her cat companion a few times as she had sorted the place, and felt a peculiar sense of relief that he hadn’t wandered off. Now her stomach was telling her that it was empty, and her jaguar was restless.
She opened the front door and checked her surroundings before stepping out. From the bushes to her right, a pair of amber eyes watched her.
“You might want to look away at this point,” she advised softly. Quickly, she stripped off her clothes and left them in a neat pile beside the door. As she turned, she focused inwardly, calling her jaguar forward to the surface, and beyond.
Before the change swept through her, she saw the black jaguar cautiously emerging and staring straight at her. The ache began, the dull throb that passed through her from head to toe. After it came the wave of euphoria as the world snapped into a different perspective. The ache returned, sweeping up from the tip of her tail as her inner cat coalesced with her outside form and her human self took a back seat. Her mind was still her own, human or cat. She was still Octavia.
She stretched, letting the wind coast through her whiskers. The black jaguar was sitting not more than six feet away from her now, and Octavia knew in that instant that he truly was a shifter. Real cats, true jaguars, were confused by her. Neither fully human nor fully jaguar, they couldn’t see her as either one or the other. But this jaguar looked as if another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place. As if some distant memory had just made itself known.
He rose again, and padded gently towards her, low to the ground, in a pose she could have called submissive. This close, she could see the poor condition his coat was in, and the slowly healing wounds that marked his skin. There was an acrid smell of smoke clinging to him, and she wrinkled her nose, whiskers twitching.
He hesitated a pace away from her, and she tensed in case he tried to attack her. He showed no sign of aggression, however— instead, he crouched low to the ground, and looked up at her, his eyes now holding more of spark of life than they had before. Making her mind up, she gently head butted him in welcome. At least she could help him get a good meal.
Follow, she said in the way of cats, and padded off along one of her favourite forest trails.
The black jaguar coasted along beside her like a shadow, never straying too far from her side. She led him deeper into the forest, to her favourite fishing hole. The river ran through the heart of her territory, and her fishing spot was hidden deep in the trees. The riverbed rose and the water ran over gravel shallows, before dropping away again into several deep, still pools. The air was damp, and smelled of growing things.
Octavia stepped into the water, grumbling with pleasure as the water ran over her feet. Carefully, she began to wade upstream, towards the first of her pools. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her companion waiting just shy of the water’s edge.
From her position above the water she had an excellent vantage point, and very soon her needle-sharp claws sank into the flesh of a trout, flinging it clear of the water.
She carried the fish over to the black jaguar, who looked as incredulous as a cat could. She dropped it at his feet, and pushed it towards him with her muzzle.
Eat, she ordered him, and returned to her fishing.
Four fish later, her companion was lying sprawled in a sunbeam, eyes closed, breathing contentedly. Octavia growled cheerfully as she lifted her own fish in her jaws and began the trek back to her cabin. At least she had helped, she told herself— her unexpected companion would at least have a square meal in him now, even if she wasn’t otherwise sure how she could help him. Looking back over her shoulder at him as he slept, Octavia couldn’t help but want to do something for him. Her uncle had told her he had no idea how to help, but Octavia just couldn’t believe that, with all her resources, there was nothing she could do for him. Whatever had happened to him, there must be some way to help.
***
It was not the quiet weekend that she had planned for herself, but in a way Octavia thought that she was better off. Instead of getting caught up in brooding or giving into the temptation to check emails, she spent her time caring for her wounded companion, and having a good time herself. Her jaguar was content and happy, except when Octavia thought about returning to Cancun.
But Monday morning came around all too soon, and Octavia couldn’t put off her return. The most serious reason for her to head back was to try and find information about whatever was stopping her friend from changing back into human. The business could nearly run itself, and she trusted her uncle and associates to fix any problems that came up while she was away.
Her jaguar friend seemed to know that something wasn’t right. Every time Octavia passed a window as she packed, he was there, watching her.
Eventually though, she could not put off her departure any longer. She shouldered her pack and left the cabin, closing and locking the door behind her.
As she turned away from her quiet sanctuary, she discovered that her companion of the weekend was now sitting at the beginning of the trail, in a blocking her path. She chuckled sadly.
“I have to get back to the city,” she apologized, holding the jaguar’s stare with her own. “I have to try and find something to help you.”
He bared his teeth at her and snarled. She rested her hands on her hips, unimpressed. Even though he was improved and healthier now than he had been, she would still be able to get past him as a jaguar.
“Don’t give me that backtalk,” she scolded him “You’ve seen all the fishing spots, and you’re getting better. You’ll be fine for the day or two that it takes me to do some research.”
The black jaguar gave her a flat, unimpressed stare.
“I faithfully swear that I will be back by Wednesday, at the absolute latest,” she said. “So it’s only for a day. Two at the worst. Besides, you couldn’t come with me. The city doesn’t like big cats wandering around, and while you’re still like this, you’re conspicuous. Just stay here, and try and figure out how you can change back. I’m still sure that you’re a shifter. I know you’re hurt and confused. But I have to go away to help you.”
She took another step towards the trail, and the growling intensified. She sighed, unlocked the door again, and set the bag inside. It would be all right there for the day. She stripped again, and set her clothes inside, before relocking the door. Her companion looked as worried as a cat could.
She shifted and took off at a bounding lope, straight towards him and encouraged him to get out of her way with a mildly threatening swipe.
She knew he couldn’t keep up with her, not in the condition that he was in. She felt bad that she had to do this, but she needed to do more to help him.
She shifted back into her human form and stepped naked from the bushes. The car keys were still hooked to the chassis, and Octavia popped the trunk and changed into her spare clothes with a sense of relief. She took one last look around, took a breath, and pulled herself back into the mindset of Octavia the business owner.
As she pulled away, heading back towards the main road, she glanced in the rear-view mirror to see a black shape watching her from the trees.
***
She managed to avoid getting caught breaking the speed laws as she made her way back to the city. While she drove back, she focused on calling up some of her staff, and allocating them her personal projects, clearing her desk to make sure that nothing would be there to hold up her return to her cabin.
Without bothering to stop at her home to change, when she reached the city she headed straight for her office, housed in the impressive glass building near the center of Cancun.
Sixteen hours later, her uncle walked straight into the room, breezing past the startled P.A.
“I am taking you out to lunch,” Nicodemus said flatly, his brown eyes sharp.
Octavia looked up from her computer and frowned, rubbing away the start of a headache with her fingertips.
“I’ve got too much to do. I have some promising leads I’m following up.”
“And it will wait another hour or two,” Nicodemus reached over and turned her monitor off. “Don’t make me drag you out. You have not left this room in far too long.”
Despite herself, Octavia smiled. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat,” Nicodemus agreed.
Octavia stood and stretched, smoothing her suit out of its crinkled lines, wrinkling her nose at the worn odor. She grabbed her purse and stepped out from behind the desk before Nicodemus could tow her out.