The Jaguar Prince

by Karen Kelley

  But the table looked nice. It had been set with new dishes and stemware. In the center of a new red tablecloth was a pair of candlesticks with white tapered candles.

  He was making her a birthday dinner. She sucked in her bottom lip as tears filled her eyes. The only person who had ever done anything special for her was DeeDee. This was so nice, so sweet…

  Rogar stepped out from in front of the microwave. Sparks flew around on the inside like the Fourth of July. She rushed forward and flung the door open. “What are you trying to do?”

  Something popped and hissed, then sizzled. She reached over and jerked the cord out of the wall. There was a grinding noise, then nothing. She had a feeling the sound had been the microwave’s death rattle.

  “It said place in microwave and cook five to six minutes,” Rogar said. “Your machine malfunctioned.”

  Her machine? More likely he hadn’t completely read the directions. It was a foil container. She turned on him, but before she could open her mouth to tell Rogar that she’d really liked her microwave, she got a good look at him.

  He was streaked with flour, and something must have exploded because the flour was mixed with a blue liquid of some sort, and his hair stuck up at odd angles, as if he’d ran his fingers through it more than once in frustration.

  Somehow, the microwave lost significance, and she began to laugh. His frown deepened, which only made her laugh harder.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because you cared enough to attempt cooking.” She walked close to him, started to hug him, then changed her mind, and simply smiled.

  “You aren’t angry because I destroyed your room?”

  She shook her head. “It can be cleaned, but I’ll have this memory forever, and it’s a good one.”

  He smiled, then he lowered his head and kissed her. Warmth rushed through her. And at that moment, when his lips touched hers, she knew it was going to be hard to say good-bye to his touch, and everything he made her feel. Not when she wanted him so badly, not when…

  Her nose wrinkled as the acrid smell of smoke began to fill her nostrils.

  Smoke?

  She pushed away. “What’s burning?”

  “Me. You set my blood on fire.”

  He reached for her, but she stepped around him. Oh, good Lord, what did he have in the oven? She opened the door. Black smoke barreled out.

  “What are you cooking? A tire?” She quickly turned off the oven, and hurried to open windows.

  “I did exactly what the directions on the box said. Bake for one hour. Apparently, this machine malfunctioned as well.” He helped her open the windows.

  “Let me get this straight, you can learn to drive a car, but you can’t figure out how to cook?” She grunted as she attempted to raise a stuck window.

  Rogar came up behind her and raised it with little effort. “I can pilot a space craft, one of your antiquated cars is not that difficult. Besides, we have similar vehicles where I come from.”

  She moved out of his reach. It would be better to keep a bit of distance between them. “You have vehicles, but you don’t have a stove or microwave?” She didn’t really buy that.

  He straightened. “We have cooking devices which I’m sure are similar to yours but not as…”

  “Antiquated?” She cocked an eyebrow. His supercilious attitude could be a little irksome at times.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “I take it you’ve never cooked.”

  “Correct again.”

  She shook her head. “Then how do you eat? Chase your food down, kill it, then eat it raw?”

  His brow furrowed. “I have servants. You forget, I’m a prince of noble lineage. There are more important things for me to do than cook.”

  “You don’t say.”

  His frown deepened. Damn, he was sexy when he frowned.

  “I do say. I did say, that is.”

  “How are you in the cleaning department?”

  “Cleaning?”

  She walked back into the kitchen and surveyed the mess. It was worse than she’d first thought. He followed her inside. She was totally exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was clean, especially on her birthday.

  “We’ll have to clean the kitchen. If it dries, it’s going to be like cement, and I don’t know how to run a jackhammer.” She looked at him, hoping he understood the we part. She wasn’t about to do it all by herself, and she didn’t care if he was a prince or not.

  “DeeDee said you were to celebrate your birthday. I don’t think that includes cleaning.”

  “We do what we have to do.”

  He shook his head. “Go take a bath. It’s ready for you. I’ll clean the mess.”

  “But…”

  “No. I’ve ruined your special day, but I’ll make it better.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently nudged her toward the other room.

  She took one more look at the kitchen, and decided she would leave it all to him. She was too tired to argue. But as soon as she stepped inside the bathroom, she felt guilty.

  There were at least a dozen candles glowing. The bathtub was half filled with water, and covered in rose petals. The scents filling the air were a lot better than the ones in the kitchen. She turned the hot water on and quickly stripped out of her clothes, and stepped in.

  As soon as she slid her shoulders beneath the water, she knew this was the best birthday present ever. She didn’t care about the mess in the kitchen, or young Kelvin and his soda spilling down the front of her shirt. All she cared about was the water lapping against her tired muscles.

  The kitchen would probably be in an even bigger mess when she finished her bath, but she didn’t care. Not right now, not at this moment in time.

  She must’ve dozed because the next thing she knew, the water had cooled. She climbed out, and after drying off, blew out the candles, and wrapped in her terry cloth robe.

  The house was quiet. She made her way into the kitchen. Rogar was humming a strange tune as he cleaned the counter. The kitchen was back to normal. He’d lit candles and the scent of apples and cinnamon filled the room.

  He turned, then smiled. “Better?”

  And he’d apparently washed up a little himself, because he was no longer streaked with flour. She smiled. “Much better.” Her stomach rumbled. She hoped he wouldn’t be serving whatever had been burning earlier.

  “I used your phone to have food delivered.”

  “Is that how you created the pretty flowers lining the drive?”

  “I have my database, and DeeDee showed me the Yellow Pages.”

  She nodded. “A marvelous wonder, the Yellow Pages.” She’d never heard of a database, but it sounded techy, and she wasn’t much into that kind of stuff.

  “Do you like the car?”

  “Very much, but I can’t keep it.”

  He stopped midway to the sink with the dishcloth. “Why not?”

  She opened her mouth to try to explain, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t understand about taxes and insurance. “It’s complicated. Besides, you’re really going to have to stop duplicating money.”

  The doorbell chimed. “Food.” He went to the door and opened it.

  Callie covered her mouth to keep from laughing. A young boy stood at the door with two boxes in his hands. Rogar had ordered pizza.

  “Two supremes and a bottle of soda comes to twenty-seven fifty.”

  Rogar took the boxes and soda, setting them on the coffee table, then reached in his pocket for money. The kid wore a dumbfounded look on his face when Rogar handed him a bill.

  “I can’t change a hundred, sir.”

  “I don’t need it changed. Here’s another for your trouble. Will that suffice?”

  “Yes,” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, thank you so much! Bitchin’ cars, too.” He took off running. Callie wondered if the kid thought Rogar would change his mind.

  Rogar scooped up the boxes and carried them to the table. “I hope you like
pizza. The yellow pages said they were voted number one.”

  “I love pizza.”

  He opened the box and inhaled. “I think I will, too.” He put a slice on each of their plates, juggling it because it was hot. He motioned for her to sit, then twisted the cap off the soda, sticking it toward her.

  Now he’d confused her. “What?”

  “Do you want to smell it?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “That’s what they did at the restaurant.”

  She took the lid and waved it under her nose. “Two thousand nine, a good year.” Then she tried really hard to keep a straight face. He may have adapted to a lot of Earth’s ways, but there were things he just didn’t get.

  He poured some of the cold soda in each of their glasses before he sat across from her. She raised hers to her lips and took a drink. “Very good.”

  He smiled. When he reached for his fork, she shook her head.

  “There’s only one right way to eat pizza.” She picked up the wedge and took a bite, swirling the cheese around her finger and poking it in her mouth. “Good.” She nodded her head as she chewed.

  He picked up his slice and took a bite. She laughed when his cheese stretched out and he couldn’t get to the end of it.

  “Just pinch it with your fingers,” she told him. “Don’t you have pizza on New Symtaria?”

  He shook his head. “We have other delicacies that you would like, although your pizza is very good.”

  She took a drink of soda, then set her glass back on the table. “Tell me about your planet. Are there trees? Oceans?”

  “Our planet is the polar opposite of Earth so they are very similar. We have oceans and mountains, green grasses and trees.”

  “What happened to the other Symtaria?”

  “Pollution. We killed our planet.”

  That sounded all too familiar. “What’s to keep the same from happening to New Symtaria?”

  “Everyone learns from their mistakes—eventually. Now we’re careful to protect our new home.”

  “In the meantime, you dumped most of the people onto other planets.”

  He cringed. “Not dumped. When our planet was dying, my grandfather was one of the rulers. He made the decision to relocate most of the people, while the rest searched for a new home. It took many years.”

  “And now you’re trying to bring everyone back.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? I’m sure most have new lives. They’ve created their own roots in new lands.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We need them to come back.”

  “Need? What does that mean?”

  He reached for his glass and she wondered if he was going to answer her question. Why did they need everyone to return?

  Chapter 12

  Rogar had blundered and he knew it. He stalled by taking a drink of the liquid Callie called soda, then choked and coughed as it burned his throat. This soda did not go down as smoothly as the wine. He brought his napkin to his mouth as he tried to bring his fit of coughing under control.

  Callie’s birthday celebration was not going well. At least, not as well as DeeDee had said it would. He and Callie should be in bed making love. DeeDee told him that women appreciated when men made an effort to cook a meal. They wanted the fairy tale, the romance. When he’d looked up fairy tale on his database, it had shown a picture of flowers along a walkway. It hadn’t been difficult to find someone to come out and provide the landscaping. He’d offered lots of money, and they’d immediately done his bidding.

  Nor did it take much to have a food store deliver ingredients for a gourmet meal. He’d thought the instructions for the preparation were self-explanatory, but apparently not.

  When he’d researched romance, he’d come up with candlelight, presents, a rose-scented bath, and making love. It seemed everything had to be in that order. Not that he’d minded, as long as the last one on the list didn’t get forgotten. He had a feeling because the first two had been disasters, the last might not happen.

  The bath with candles and petals was a good idea. That one seemed to work very well. The stress was gone from Callie’s face and she looked more relaxed. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t guarded his words as well as he could have. He’d make sure he was more careful in the future.

  “You okay?” she asked when his breathing returned to normal.

  “The drink is strong and made bubbles in my nose.”

  “But you’re okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, then tell me why you need the people to return. You said needed, not wanted.”

  “Maybe I chose the wrong word. Your Earth words sometimes carry a meaning I don’t wish to convey.” He’d lied. But it had been for Callie’s own good. Now he was starting to pick up her bad habits.

  She smiled. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Not buying it,” she said, still smiling.

  He frowned.

  “You might as well tell me.”

  He tapped his fingers on the table, then finally spoke, choosing his words more carefully. “Our blood has become too pure. If we don’t mix with impures, we will destroy ourselves. Our children cannot be of pure blood.”

  “So mix with another species. Problem solved.”

  “It’s not that easy. You should know that. There are certain consequences that go along with being Symtarian.”

  “Like changing form.”

  “Yes.” He picked up his glass, then set it back on the table without taking a drink. “People have been locked away, driven insane, when they heard their guide speaking to them. Or worse.”

  “Worse?” Her eyes widened. “What could be worse than that?”

  “Actually shifting. Changing into animal form, then changing back. Not knowing what happened to them.”

  “And there’s no one to explain?”

  He shook his head. “The Symtarians left on Earth adapted the best way they knew how. They were told to blend with this new society, so they hid who they were, even from their offspring, thinking they were probably doing the right thing.”

  “Why didn’t your people come for them sooner?”

  “The old leader died, my grandfather, others took his place…” he hedged.

  “You forgot about them?” One eyebrow quirked upward.

  “Yes.” He hated to admit it, but that was exactly what happened.

  “And now you want everyone to come home so there will be mates with less than pure blood so the Symtarian race will continue.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what happens if I decide to stay here?”

  Maybe it was best that she knew everything. “Then your life will be in danger.”

  Callie closely watched Rogar’s face. He looked serious. “What do you mean, I’m in danger?”

  “Some want to keep our line pure. They don’t like the thought of mixed bloods, and they’re trying to destroy every one of them.”

  She shot out of her chair. “You mean there’s someone out there who wants me dead?”

  He nodded.

  “But I didn’t do anything to this other person.”

  He grimaced. “You were born.”

  The room suddenly tilted and she had to grab the edge of the table to steady herself. “Is that what happened to my mother? Was she murdered by this monster?”

  Rogar looked away. He knew more than what he was saying. All this time, and he hadn’t told her what she so desperately needed to know, to understand.

  “You know, don’t you? You know what happened to my parents. Why they left me at the orphanage, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you needlessly.”

  She slowly sat down in the chair. “Tell me. I have the right to know.”

  He didn’t look happy. “I have very little information. The last known whereabouts of your parents was Kentucky. That’s where your father was…found dead.”

  She hugged her middle. “How…” She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. �
�How was he murdered?”

  “Isn’t it enough to know he died? He has no more pain. His sleep is peaceful.”

  Her gaze didn’t waver from his. “How was he killed?”

  “The report said his heart was ripped out of his chest, his skin shredded. They thought a wild animal might have killed him.”

  “And my mother?”

  “No one knew what happened to her. A neighbor said she was far into her pregnancy.”

  Callie closed her eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Do you think she might have been protecting me? Is that why she left me at the orphanage? Maybe she didn’t leave because she didn’t want me?”

  He stood, coming around the table, and gathered her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and realized her cheeks were damp.

  Rogar led her to the sofa and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. “Symtarians bond very strongly with their children, from the moment of conception. More so than any race I know. Your mother wouldn’t have left you because she didn’t love you. I’m certain she cared for you very much.”

  “And this person who killed my father, is he still out there?”

  “I’m afraid so. His name is Zerod. He was son to one of the elder rulers, born later in life. He was against mixing our blood. But we had no choice. Our blood had become so pure that it’s harder to control our guides. Zerod lost control of his, and now his guide rules his head.”

  “And that’s dangerous?”

  “You should be one with your guide, a blending, so to say. The natural instinct of the guide is to hunt, to kill, but always to protect the human side. When the guide begins to take over, then those natural instincts are stronger. But Zerod has the blood lust on his human side as well. That makes him an even greater danger. And there are those who follow him.”

  “And he wants to kill me.”

  “Yes. That’s why it’s imperative we bring everyone home. Zerod is searching for you even now.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed in Rogar’s scent. For the first time in her life, she felt protected.

  The real world quickly closed in around her. Rogar wouldn’t always be there to protect her, and she couldn’t leave the only thing she’d ever known to step into the unknown.