Secrets of the Jaguar (Crimson Romance)

by Jaye Shields

  Michelle heaved a grateful sigh as she watched the charming barista disappear. As the young woman retreated, she noticed a beautiful tattoo stretched from under her shirt and up her neck. She thought she made out feathers. Birds are popular tattoos I guess. Michelle had always wanted a tattoo, but had never gotten one herself, could never decide what to get where. Looking over her shoulder, she gazed at the back of her mystery man, still focused on his paper.

  • • •

  Duncan hadn’t reacted when she walked in, but he was surprised by the excitement stirring within him. Surely he couldn’t be thirsty again already. No, it was something different altogether. Her stare tickled the back of his neck and it took everything he had not to turn around. But he didn’t need to see to know how she looked: soft, sand-colored skin and unexpected, bright blue eyes framed by a long, dark mane of hair. Her lips were full, and he imagined kissing them. Perhaps he would.

  For the time being, Duncan listened in on their conversation with his heightened sense of hearing. Ah, so she wants to work at my favorite coffee shop. Worked for him, so to speak. When he heard the girl approaching him, on her way out now that she had her application, Duncan stood so he was in her way.

  “We meet again.” He smiled, but she nervously glanced down at his full mug of coffee on the table. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee? I see that you are empty handed.” The girl fidgeted nervously, so he held out his hand for her, offering her the seat next to where he had been sitting on the couch, and finally she spoke.

  “I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to bully you away from your spot on the beach.” She finally focused her eyes on his.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. Have a seat while I get your … what would you like?” He watched her hesitate, all the while gnawing on her bottom lip. She looked damn cute.

  “I’ll have a cappuccino, thanks.”

  “Of course.” He set his pad of paper on the table next to his mug of coffee and made his way to the barista to pay for her cappuccino. When he returned, she was palming his sketchbook.

  Her voice was soft but a little shaky, “So you like jaguars? This is a beautiful drawing.”

  “My name is Duncan.” He held out a palm in introduction as he took a seat on the couch next to her. “I guess I have a thing for big, black cats.” He fought back a chuckle as he noticed her cheeks pinken, although he wasn’t sure why. “I think your cappuccino is ready; I’ll go grab it.”

  When he retrieved the coffee, he took a sip and spit some of his venom into the drink while she faced the window. It hadn’t been long since he fed, but being near this girl was making his insides unsteady. Perhaps he’d been more overdue for a drink than he thought.

  When he returned to his spot next to her on the couch, he gazed into the deep blue eyes that matched the brightness of her coat.

  She pulled a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “My name is Michelle.”

  He handed her the beverage. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Michelle, and during the daytime this time.”

  She smiled. “Well, the sun is setting.”

  He nodded. His senses focused on the strange malevolent force that sizzled in the air when he was near her. Was she a vampire? He couldn’t imagine so with her soft, innocent gaze and tan, freckled skin. Maybe she had a jealous vampire lover who was near. Gazing over his shoulder, he scanned the room but could have sworn he was the only immortal in the coffee shop.

  “I better get going. Thank you for the coffee.” As she stood, Duncan realized that in their brief introduction, she had already finished off her cappuccino and seemed to be showing absolutely no effects of the venom.

  “See you around.” He stared at her as she made her way out of the shop. Downing his coffee so as not to look suspicious, he placed his empty mug in the bin and departed, too, once again with intention to follow her. He stepped onto Park Street, but she was nowhere in sight. He turned the corner and heard her rapid steps from afar, but she had disappeared, leaving him to ponder the mystery.

  • • •

  Michelle choked on the cappuccino she all but gulped down as she darted from the coffee shop. When Duncan spoke to her, he was not wearing the fangs he had the night before. His skin had appeared as pale, but it looked ethereal, not hypothermic. Actually, he kind of seemed like a normal guy. A normal, gorgeous guy.

  But something about the way he tensed when he was near her made her wonder what really occupied his mind. Maybe he’s a psychopath — that would explain swimming in the dark; only a loony would swim in the freezing bay during fall.

  Quickly turning the corner, she fought the urge to shift. She could make a getaway in her jaguar form, but her beloved blue coat would be left behind. Instead, she decided to brave looking like a fruitcake and run down the large Alameda block, quickly ducking around another corner in case he walked the same way. Just a couple more blocks and she would arrive home to shed her clothes and go for a much needed feline field trip.

  Chapter Six

  It was midnight and Michelle crouched comfortably in the foliage in front of a large Victorian house. She had caught Duncan’s scent from the second story window of her apartment and decided to see if she could follow his trail. She didn’t usually make a habit of going all jungle-y in her spare time, but this guy had her curiosity piqued. Something about him was wrong, but at the same time, an invisible thread pulled her toward him.

  From where she lay hidden, she watched him enjoying a stout inside the Lucky 13. He sat alone next to the window, watching the people pass along the avenue. Duncan looked just as mouth-watering as usual. His broad torso was adorned only with a thin Meat Puppets t-shirt, and even from afar, she could make out the sinewy muscle beneath. Okay, now I’m just fantasizing. She chastised herself but still gazed in awe at her handsome stranger.

  His dark hair hung against his ivory skin, and his jaw was set hard. He looked like a man to be reckoned with, but also a man to be kissed. He was surely an expert at the art of kissing.

  Her stomach squeezed into a knot as a young woman approached Duncan. She sat beside him, and although initially his face seemed expressionless, uninterested, he finally offered the woman a smile.

  Michelle growled in a low voice, unable to stop the primitive instinct within her. He was handsome, he was downright hot. And for some reason, their previous encounter left her feeling a bit territorial when every other woman in the bar also seemed to be enchanted by the man.

  After watching the two for about thirty minutes, she was convinced Duncan was not in the least bit interested; he was merely a gentleman offering the obviously desperate woman some company. Bored and a bit hungry, she had decided to turn back home when out of the corner of her eye she saw Duncan exit the pub with the female. Ugh.

  Okay, now she was damn curious and not in a good way. Her heartbeat sped up — as a matter of fact, it was racing — and she fought the urge not to lunge and scratch off the girl’s face. Don’t get primitive.

  Staying low and looking carefully so she was not seen, she crept through the darkness, following Duncan and his newfound lady friend. Who is wearing entirely too much eye shadow, she noted. So gaudy. Doing a mental u-turn, she chastised herself for being too catty about the woman. Pun not intended.

  To her dismay, the duo ended up not far from where she had first encountered Duncan by the estuary. The only good news was that there were plenty of places for her to hide.

  She crouched amidst the tall brush and watched him corner the female against the wooden columns of the pier. His face was still and he looked solemnly into the girl’s eyes. She shuddered. They must have some kind of history. Michelle wished he looked at her with such intensity as if he hungered for a woman.

  He didn’t look at me like that in the coffee shop. Then he planted a soft, simple kiss on the woman. Her stomach dropped.

  “Rawr!”

  Duncan turned in her direction, and in addition, a man leapt out of the chair where he was smoking on his
deck. “Mountain lion, Jill get my gun!” he screamed.

  Without a chance to blink, Michelle was swept into a firm grip and the estuary became a blur. She never even had a chance to react, and suddenly she was inside a house.

  • • •

  “Hope you’re not going to scratch me again, but it looks like it’s not safe for you out there.” Duncan set the humongous black cat on the ground of his bedroom and immediately it lunged at him. He let his body fade away.

  He appeared behind the disoriented feline. “I’ll be right back, kitty.” He disappeared once again. Teleporting to the pet store just two blocks away, he quickly found what he was looking for. Misting down the aisle, he grabbed the item and disappeared back to his home less than a minute later.

  “This is for you.” Using a blur of speed, he wrapped a large studded collar around her neck. Attached to it was a long metal chain he tied around a bed post.

  He smiled and patted his hand on his bed. “Here, kitty cat.” When the jaguar sat there, simply looking at him, he could have sworn he noticed a look of pure disdain on the cat’s face. Then, much to his surprise, the giant jaguar leapt onto the large bed. The jaguar reached its paws forward and stretched its lithe body, raking long claws against the mattress. Thick gashes left the bedding a mess.

  “Looks like you’ve made yourself at home. You‘ll stay here — that out-of-place hillbilly is probably out there looking for you.” He laughed and walked out of the bedroom into the living room to sit at his piano.

  Pulling some Brahms from his memory, he began playing a dark, relaxing droll on the piano and let himself be in peace, reflecting over the excitement of the day.

  After playing for a few hours, he made his way to the nearby butcher. Since it was three A.M., he faded into a mist so he could permeate the walls of the closed establishment. Once inside, he grabbed a large hunk of meat out of the fridge for his newfound feline friend. Not to mention some blood for himself.

  Arriving back at home, he stepped into his bedroom. Duncan expected to find a big black jungle cat tearing apart his bed. But he was at a complete loss for words for the first time in his life. Asleep on his bed lay the girl from the pier, naked except for the covers twisted around her ankles.

  Chapter Seven

  Michelle snuggled into the warm cocoon around her and continued to dream. The scent of freshly brewed coffee was intoxicating.

  “Congratulations, Michelle, we think you’d fit right in around here. You’re just what Tera’s Coffee and Tea needed.”

  The soft fuzzy outline of inside the coffee shop started to shift as the lovely lady who owned the store took Michelle’s arm. “Have some coffee, sweetheart.”

  The woman asked again, “Coffee?”

  This time the voice was firmer, lower. “Wakey, wakey.”

  Michelle slowly came to, realized she was not at Tera’s Coffee shop at all, and as her eyes dragged open, she took in the sight of Duncan standing before her. His long legs and pale white feet were planted in a wide stance on the dark hardwood floors. Black jeans hugged his long legs and led to a hard stomach, the chiseled muscles naked before her eyes. Okay, definitely was correct in my under-the-Meat-Puppet-tee fantasies. She suddenly realized amidst her ogling, she, too, was naked.

  “Damn it,” she cursed uncharacteristically, realizing what happened the night before. She grabbed the covers and clutched them closer, leaving only her head popping out from under the blankets.

  “Wow, not a morning person, huh?” He grinned and walked toward her with a cup of coffee in his hand. “It’s a good thing I prepared for this. But you might have to poke an arm out to hold the mug.”

  She remained silent, appraising the man who seemed to be taking the news of the neighborhood shape shifter rather well. She could play along. Looking at the heavy mug in the strong outstretched arm before her she asked, “Coffee?”

  She was greeted by a playful smile. “It’s not blood, I promise.”

  Her hands sneaked out from the covers and grabbed the cup. “So I was right then. I knew something wasn’t right about you.” She gulped the coffee in slow motion, relishing the excuse not to meet his intense gaze. But finally, she swallowed and looked up. “I didn’t believe that vampires existed.”

  “And I thought werewolves were all I had to worry about.”

  “Werewolves?” Michelle looked horrified.

  “I’m kidding. I’ve never encountered a shape shifter like yourself. So you were right about me and I was right about you.”

  “You had no idea,” she began to counter, but then Duncan cut her off once again. “You’re right, I had no idea you were a shape shifter, but I did know you were unique.” As he looked her over, Michelle tried to calm her shaky grip on the coffee. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to make a meal out of you. I fed earlier before we were interrupted.”

  The blood drained from her face. Sadness, fear, and anger tormented her body and she fought the urge to shift. The man she’d been so drawn to, attracted to, the man she had fantasized about, was not who she’d imagined at all. She had thought he was weird, mysterious sure, but not an all-out evil murderer.

  “She’s alive. I only had a sip. I’ve never killed anyone, since that’s what you are so obviously thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking? Can you read my mind?” She was disappointed to find that her voice shook. Pull yourself together, Michelle, don’t show fear!

  Duncan strode toward her until he was leaning over the bed, forcing her to cower against the headboard. “I can sense fear,” he whispered, inches away from her face. Finally, he drew back, “But even if I couldn’t, I would be afraid if I were you.”

  Gathering her courage, and realizing that perhaps there was no immediate danger or else she would have been dead already, she spoke louder than before. “You would be wise to be fearful in your situation as well. I’m a shape shifter; I could rip your face off — no problem.”

  Instead of the respectful silence Michelle had hoped to hear, she was met with a fit of laughter that lasted entirely too long. “You’re cute.” Duncan smiled at her with an intent gaze that was way too sexy to be legal. “Your spirit is just like a jungle cat. I think you’re my new best friend.” He wrinkled the brows above his dark charcoal eyes. “Make that my only friend. You have zero competition, darling.”

  Michelle took in the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, sexy as all get out, something she had never thought about a guy before. Well, except for Legolas, the elf from Lord of the Rings. But Duncan was no Legolas for sure, his locks were dark and messy around his face with black smoldering eyes, more like Stryder. She gave herself a mental smack on the head. Quit making Lord of the Rings analogies. You’re strapped to some strange vampire’s bed!

  Coming back to present, she took another gulp of the coffee. She didn’t know whether to be happy about the newfound “friendship” he claimed to desire, or be irritated as all hell that he saw her as a simple “girl-next-door” kind of buddy.

  “I went to the store to grab you a steak, but when I returned to find a naked girl in my bed, I figured I would be much loved in the morning if I returned with coffee and clothes instead.” He smiled, the gleam in his dark eyes lighting up the room. “In the first drawer of the dresser is an assortment of clothes. I assumed they would fit you nicely. After all, I’m not ashamed to admit I got a decent look when I arrived to feed my jaguar.”

  Michelle launched the now empty mug at Duncan, heat filling her cheeks. “How dare you. I guess I shouldn’t expect a vampire to be a gentleman.” Turning her face in the opposite direction of her new “friend,” she glared.

  “I am a gentleman.” He seemed surprised and offended. “I didn’t touch you or feed from you, despite the fact that you looked absolutely mouthwatering.” He stifled a laugh. “No pun intended of course.”

  “You and I definitely cannot be friends. Would you leave now, I’d love to get dressed.”

  “Whoa, whoa. Sorry, I was jus
t trying to reassure you I don’t think of you as the girl next door.”

  “I thought you couldn’t read minds,” Michelle countered angrily.

  He simply smiled at her. “I can’t read minds, but I’ve been around to observe women long enough to recognize a scorned look when I see one, and you appeared quite irritated when I mentioned we could be best friends. You were disappointed I did not suggest lovers?”

  “Are you kidding me? I knew the vampires in Hollywood were egotistical, but, man, are you putting them to shame,” she scoffed.

  Duncan stepped toward her until he was entirely too close. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. I guess I was excited to have some real company and I became uncouth.”

  “Uncouth? It seemed like you had company just last night to me.”

  He smirked, obviously fighting a grin. “That wasn’t really company, she was in a trance. We can discuss that more at a later time, when we are better acquainted.” He stepped toward the dresser. “Do I have to hold your clothes ransom or may I take you out to breakfast?”

  Sighing and submitting to the curiosity that bubbled within her, she shrugged. “You’re lucky I’m starving.”

  “Me, too.” Duncan laughed when Michelle’s jaw dropped. “Just kidding.”

  Chapter Eight

  Duncan held open the white picket gate for her to enter the estuary first, but Michelle insisted that he walk before her. There is no way he’s walking where I can’t see. Leaving the vampire’s home together was strange. Michelle had walked the path through the estuary many times but never dreamed it would be with six-feet three inches worth of handsome vampire. The anise towered over her average height of five-feet eight but only came up to his broad shoulders. She kept her wits about her as she meandered the narrow path behind him.

  When the duo turned onto Park Street from the beach, she had no choice but to awkwardly walk beside him. She had a million questions, but she refused to be the first to penetrate the silence. Weird that he doesn’t have questions about the shape shifting that took place in his bed. As she walked, Michelle traced the faint outline of the old train tracks beneath the pavement.