But that's okay. Finn found his thoughts strangely peaceful as he used powerful strokes to push himself closer to Mirabelle's human body. Ixchel's safety is all that really matters.
Which is why the second splash above his head surprised Finn into cursing aloud, taking in a mouthful of water in the process. No, despite her words to Mirabelle, Ixchel wasn't willing to stand by and passively allow herself to be rescued by some overprotective male. She'd literally dived right in behind him.
Chapter 44
Tezzie drifted within the cenote, falling back into the meditative slumber he'd enjoyed for most of his years of imprisonment. With no radio or television waves to sidetrack him, he simply peered dreamily up at the surface of the pool while Q's strong arm kept him from falling into the abyss leading into the great beyond.
I wonder what's down there? the wind god pondered. But all he could see or feel beneath his prison was black emptiness. So he shivered and turned his attention back toward the sunlight streaming into the top of the cenote from the human world above.
And then, abruptly, his pet were-jaguar was treading water above Tez's head, the feline's body seeming to end halfway up, cut off by the reflection of the sky above. And this bozo is the one I selected as my head worshiper? Tezzie thought, rolling his eyes. Finn wasn't supposed to be swimming in the water; Mirabelle was.
But before Tezzie had time to fully embrace his exasperation, the waves of terror rolling off his follower's form struck the god like a tsunami. And, for once, Tez wasn't annoyed by a mortal's emoting. Instead, the wind god watched through Finn's eyes and felt agony very much like the shifter's own as Mirabelle pounced nearly upon Ixchel's slight human form.
Not Ixchel! he roared silently.
Finn appeared to be worse than useless, allowing his jaguaress to trot directly into danger. And Ixchel was barely a kitten in shifter terms. She couldn't be expected to take care of herself.
Good thing Ixxie's follower had a second god looking out for her wellbeing.
The wind god struggled as he never had before to break free of his prison. In the past, Tez had merely been irked at his enforced captivity, but now he had a real reason to burst through the figurine's stone walls. So the deity gave the endeavor everything he had.
But despite battering himself against the statue's walls, the stone encircling Tezzie's prison remained as strong as ever. And even though his incorporeal form shouldn't have been able to feel pain, Tez had the distinct sensation of bruises rising up through his skin after pounding himself repeatedly against the unyielding rock.
Someone needs to do something! the god broadcast to all and sundry.
Unfortunately, Finn was too busy swimming to notice Tez's admonition, and no one else was able to hear him. So this is what it feels like to be a human, the god thought as he reluctantly stayed his hands. To be mortal was to rail against unknowable forces that played games with humans' fate.
For the first time in his long life, the wind god finally understood the full frustrations inherent in the human condition. And he didn't like it one bit.
All I can do is be ready to leap onto whatever opportunity presents itself, Tezzie murmured, attempting to soothe himself. Ixchel, bless her scheming little heart, had managed to halt the large jaguar's approach with her prattling, and Finn was doing his best to sneak up on their opponent from behind. So, with a little luck, perhaps this afternoon would have a happy ending after all.
Luck. Wasn't that exactly what mortals believed in, despite Tezcatlipoca knowing that each human's fate was instead decided nearly entirely by decisions and skill? The deity recalled berating his followers time and again after they prayed to the gods for a boon despite having the ability to grant their own wishes. Why be lazy and beg, he'd wondered, when you can do something about it?
Now, watching the human female who had reluctantly befriended a bereft and cantankerous god, Tezzie finally understood what had driven his followers to such stupidity. Sometimes mortals really aren't able to change their own futures, he realized.
And am I actually going through all of this craziness to become what is little more than a glorified mortal?
Then the wind god cheered as Ixchel brought forth her stick and aimed one glorious blow up against the side of Mirabelle's head. Home run! Take that, you loser! Tezzie crowed. He couldn't believe how much his heart lifted when he realized that Ixchel would now be safe.
***
Of course, even if Ixchel were to survive this confrontation, there appeared to be a good chance that Tezzie might not.
Mirabelle must have exercised until his body was made up of pure muscle because the archaeologist's human form hit the water and sank like a stone. One minute the were-jaguar was falling onto the cenote's surface; the next, the god's quarry had already drifted past Tezzie and out of reach.
No, no, no, NO! the god howled, and this time Tez was pretty sure he was broadcasting directly into Finn's mind. Because why else would the were-jaguar grab Tezzie's prison in one strong hand as he arrowed down through the depths after Mirabelle? Why else would his follower work so hard to secure his deity's future?
A future that Tezcatlipoca was no longer sure he wanted. The further they sank into the cenote, the harder it would be to push himself back out into the human realm rather than allowing the underworld's seductive allure to yank him all the way through the portal. Plus, Mirabelle's spark of life was weakening by the moment, and Tez wasn't at all sure the archaeologist's flesh would hold up to the switch if the god made the planned leap into Mirabelle's form.
Finn, on the other hand, was a pretty good second-best host. The younger shifter was less powerful than Mirabelle, but that was a problem easily remedied with a little selective hunting. And Finn's younger body was also far more appealing to Tez's aesthetic nature.
Plus, most importantly, Finn's human form was strong enough to swim back to the surface once the switch was made. The god could sense that his carrier's lungs were beginning to strain against their current lack of oxygen. But if Finn turned back now, he could easily break the surface before passing out.
Or, rather, Tez could after jumping into the younger were-jaguar's body. Mirabelle would perish in the process, of course, but what was one additional mortal body rotting into bones at the bottom of a cenote that had seen dozens of like offerings?
And maybe Finn wouldn't mind too much about extending his human life with a good, long stay in the safety of the entrapping figurine. Because down here where Tez was embraced by Ixxie's power, he was pretty sure he could push a mere mortal into the statue to take his place.
Ixchel wouldn't approve, you know. It must have been a strain for Ixxie to broadcast her words into his head while still keeping an ever-deepening cenote tethered to the human plane. But the goddess's words seemed as serene and calm as ever. No one can stop you from taking over Finn's body, Ixxie continued. But if you do, you should know by now that my own follower will never speak to you again.
It shouldn't have mattered. The druthers of one mortal woman, whom Tezzie had known for only a few days? And whose heart was already promised to another? What could Ixchel do in reprisal—give Tezzie the silent treatment for the rest of their lives?
The very idea sent a shiver of sadness down the deity's spine for reasons he refused to examine. Okay, okay, he thought grumpily. And then, pouring every bit of his own godly strength into his follower's body—while keeping his soul safely tucked away within the figurine—Tezzie watched as Finn's turbo-charged limbs made short work of the remaining distance separating them from the sinking archaeologist.
There was no time to waste on pretty speeches and incantations. So when the younger shifter pressed the little stone statue up against Mirabelle's skin, Tezzie simply thrust his soul outward as hard as he was able.
The wind god nearly wasn't strong enough to make the switch, not after sharing his power with Finn moments earlier. But, at last, Tezzie was able to thrust his way through the archaeologist's skin and flesh before
entering Mirabelle's bloodstream and dispersing like a quickly multiplying virus through his host's body.
Immediately, the archaeologist's spark of life winked out at the same time that the stone statue began to glow. Finn released the figurine as if his fingers were on fire, and Tezzie felt rather than saw the little hunk of carved rock slip past Ixxie's carefully held boundary line and out of the human world entirely.
But still Tezzie was unable to force his new body to move. The mortal was close to death, water having filled his lungs while the brain expanded into a concussion within his skull. No way would the ex-god be able to push his way back to the surface, not in Mirabelle's used-up body.
I made the wrong decision! Tezzie thought mournfully as he continued to drift toward the bottom of the underground pool.
Chapter 45
Oh no she didn't! Antonio thought as the taillights of Mirabelle's car veered off onto a small dirt track to his right. But, yes, his sister really had managed to shake her brothers off her tail...despite one of those brothers being a fully-trained CIA agent and despite all four of the siblings currently focusing their entire attention solely on her safety and wellbeing.
Well, she'd gotten rid of three of her siblings. But Antonio hadn't quite trusted the serenity of his sister's expression that morning. Ixchel had never looked so calm before something so minor as a spelling test, let alone preceding a life-or-death confrontation that threatened the safety of her beloved family members.
In contrast, Antonio vividly recalled watching his baby sister spill the contents of her stomach all over the hospital tiles while Santiago was having his leg stitched up following a childhood bicycling accident. No, Ixchel hadn't been involved in the wreck. She'd vomited from pure empathetic agony.
More recently, she'd sprouted waterworks at Fernando's wedding—which was probably wise, Antonio would now admit, considering how marriage did turn out to be a fate worse than death. (Good thing Nando liked the life-altering condition.)
And his baby sister had cried her eyes out multiple evenings running during her high-school career while begging Antonio not to lead his siblings off on another night of carousing.
Of course, it was possible their youngest sibling still hadn't forgiven her brothers for their youthful indiscretions, especially since Antonio's stupidity had led directly to the deaths of Miguel and their parents. If Ixchel cursed her brothers' names, why bother fretting over leading her family members into a perilous situation?
At first, Antonio had simply assumed that was the case. After all, he'd never forgiven himself for those three deaths either.
But Santiago had been hardly more than a baby when he'd willingly taken the fall for a subset of Antonio's crimes. The long-ago scheme—dreamed up by Miguel—had managed to get all five brothers jailed, but for a relatively short term that didn't brand any as felons. In actuality, Antonio knew he'd deserved a far worse fate...and the judge would likely have locked the ringleader up and thrown away the key had his siblings not stepped up to take the fall for the majority of his crimes. Which was all a long way of saying—given Santiago's selflessness, who could blame their sainted youngest brother for the sins of his elders?
Once Antonio began to think more logically, he'd also recalled the icy tranquility on Ixchel's face when she'd testified against her brothers at their hearing. No, he decided, Ixchel was only this cool and collected when she had something up her sleeve. And Antonio fully intended to find out what that something was.
So he'd tweaked the brothers' schedules so he was the one keeping watch at the final gas station. Then he'd sped up as they neared their final destination so Mirabelle's car remained just barely in view. Being sighted was against Fernando's policies and Antonio didn't want to tip off their mark either...but he also didn't want to miss the moment when Ixchel made her move.
And he hadn't. Antonio pulled into the parking area behind his sister's car while her voice was still ringing out through the muggy air. And he made it down the pathway just in time for his eyes to capture a sight that set his mind reeling. A massive black jaguar was standing on the shore of the cenote one moment...and the next moment a man was in the same position preparing to dive into the water.
Whoa.
It had been nearly a decade since Antonio had partaken of a mind-altering substance even as strong as coffee. Miguel's death had forced the former rabble-rouser to rebuild his entire being to make up for his younger brother's sacrifice, so his previous dabbles in drugs and alcohol were now a distant memory.
So maybe my mind is playing tricks on me...or maybe this is the secret our baby sister is working so hard to keep.
Of course, Antonio was too slow to catch that same sister before she jumped into the murky water after the were-jaguar. So Antonio was instead forced to stare down into the dark depths of the cenote and wait for what felt like centuries while human bodies stubbornly refused to reappear.
***
When she thought she'd be forced to open her mouth and fill it with water in order to ease the burning in her lungs, Ixchel and Finn burst out of the cenote at last. It had been touch and go there at the end, but the pair had been successful. Mirabelle's heavy body was now sandwiched between them and Ixchel's new feline senses could pick up the archaeologist's heartbeat, sluggish but present beneath his skin.
Her first impulse was to find out whose soul inhabited the form they'd worked so hard to save, but Finn beat her to it by embarking on a tirade the likes of which she'd never heard emerge from his lips during their short, but deep, acquaintance. "What were you thinking?" Ixchel's favorite were-jaguar demanded. "To lead Mirabelle here by yourself was bad enough. But to dive in after him! You could've been killed! I was handling it. How could you be so stupid as to risk your life that way? Don't you know that you're not expendable?"
Ixchel refrained from giving her companion a point-by-point analysis of the inanity of his argument. If she could have been killed diving into the cenote, couldn't Finn as well? And if Finn was handling the situation so capably, how come the vet—who had promised herself to never cause a living creature harm—had been forced to nail the archaeologist with a tree branch? She'd be hearing the sickening crack of wood on skull in her nightmares for months to come.
But, instead of arguing, Ixchel used her strength to continue paddling to shore. And once Mirabelle had been hefted up onto solid ground—where he proceeded to vomit out the entire contents of his stomach—the vet took matters into her own hands.
She and Finn had so much to talk about. Was her favorite shifter angry that Ixchel had accepted the goddess's offer to transform her into a were-jaguar? Was she dreaming to think that he might finally take her into his confidence and allow her into his life now that they both shared whiskers? Or, since the immediate danger had passed, would Finn walk out as easily as he'd walked in?
These were questions that sorely needed answers, but Ixchel had another itch that was even more in need of scratching. Yes, Tezzie was (hopefully) lying waterlogged at their feet, but a groggy external audience wasn't quite the same deterrent as when that same god had eavesdropped in her mind at critical moments. And Ixchel had waited so very long to fulfill her physical longings without a brain worm to nudge her in another direction....
So the vet took the initiative. She stood up on tiptoes, grabbed the hair on the back of Finn's neck, and pulled his face down until the were-jaguar's lips were within easy reach. Then she kissed him long and hard, an act that had the side benefit of completely derailing her companion's tirade.
Yum. If she'd allowed herself to remember how good Finn's lips felt on her own, Ixchel would have ignored their pesky godly companion and taken the were-jaguar to bed days ago.
When their kiss began, Finn's body had been vibrating against the vet's skin in proof that his anger was merely a manifestation of terror at the idea of losing her. So, when she was finally able to think about anything other than the wonder of their shared kiss, Ixchel allowed her arms to drift down to encircle her
companion in a hug. Then she simply held the shaking shifter against her smaller form until his muscles strengthened and his shoulders firmed back up into the manly posture she'd come to know and love.
Ixchel finally stepped back and watched as the shifter closed his eyes for a moment, drew in a deep breath, and then apologized prettily. "Please ignore everything I just said," he rumbled. "I was..."
"...worried about me," Ixchel finished for him. "It's extremely sweet. But we should probably take care of Tezzie—that is you, right, Tezzie?—before my brothers show up with handcuffs."
"Yes, I am Tezcatlipoca. In the flesh, alive and reporting for duty." Mirabelle/Tezzie had managed to stand while Finn and Ixchel were lost in their own private world, and the vet was relieved to find that the deity seemed much less damaged than she'd expected from her memory of how loudly that stick had struck flesh. But, after all, Tezzie was a god. Surely that should count for something, even if the deity was currently inhabiting a mortal form.
Mixed in with all the other issues she had to worry about, Ixchel had been dreading this moment when she'd be forced to gaze into Mirabelle's face and smile. But when she looked up, the vet was relieved to find that all she saw now was Tezzie. The former archaeologist's bone structure was the same as ever, but the entire manner with which the god carried his body was different from the menacing shifter whom Ixchel had come to know far too well. What a relief. Because Ixchel didn't intend to allow this orphaned god to make his way alone in the world, and she didn't want to have to fake her reactions every time she had him over for dinner either.
Equally surprising was Tezzie's apparent lack of arrogance. After bantering with the wind god inside her mind for days on end, the vet had expected imperious commands combined with lots of whining after he got a feel for the limitations of his human body. Instead, while Tezzie didn't quite offer up a thank you, something about the way he stood with one shoulder lower than the other hinted at both apology and gratitude.
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