© 2014 Gem Sivad LLC. All rights reserved. Blood Stoned, A Jinx story
Chapter Six
I knew I was dreaming and yet not…
~~~
I don’t know why I’m driving down the road in the middle of the night. I don’t remember harnessing Clarence, and yet my trusted friend is pulling me toward an unknown destination.
We come to the foothills leading to the bluff behind my house, and I pull on the reins to stop, and then jump from the buggy. Quickly, I climb the rocky slope to answer the call that summons me. A breeze fans my cheeks, carrying the awful stench that fouled Paddy’s bull; as I watch, a ribbon of black streams out of the mouth of the cave, cutting a path through the night sky. I slow my trek toward my destination, though I know that the one who calls me, waits there.
Ahead, a familiar chuffing sound interrupts the silence. I’m reassured now that I know that Hunter is here. He steps in front of me, blocking the path to the railroad tunnel. His tail swishes angrily, and his eyes glow, warning me to walk no further.
But another commands me and I must go.
I can feel the jaguar’s tension as I try to step around him. He gathers himself, preparing to spring. No. I lay my hand on his shoulder, letting my magic flow into his beast body, and gathering his magic as it returns to me.
His demeanor changes, and his lip curls in a feline smirk as his eyes lose the tinge of red madness. He licks my cheek in a very Hunter fashion and his eyes are once again pure molten amber as he meets my gaze.
He butts me with his head, driving me away from the cave opening I’ve come to find. I half stumble down the slope, trying to keep my footing at his aggressive shoves.
Change, he roars in my mind, the one word beating insistently as though I could understand. Change.
Behind us, stones clatter. Suddenly, panic steals my breath and I run. He follows close behind me, his silence now more frightening than his previous low growled rumbling.
I need to get to Clarence and my buggy. My feet fly over the rough ground, and it surprises me that I don’t stumble. Then I do fall, but that doesn’t stop me. I scramble on all fours, too frightened to stop, or look to see what pursues us.
My muscles, unused to such abuse, scream as I lurch forward, my awkward gait becoming a feline stride. A vast awareness of power sweeps through my mind and body. I looked down at the hands that have become paws, and the fingers that are now sharp elongated claws.
I am jaguar—racing on four legs, muscles rippling with new strength, my senses open focusing on the big cat behind me instead of the dangers in the night. I skid to a halt so quickly that I send a shower of fine rocks spraying outward, throwing noise and debris into the air.
My vision has improved, sounds are intensified, and I roll newly found muscles in my shoulders. I stretch and flex, testing the strength and capabilities of my body as I prowl. The moon is a sliver of white light bathing the rough landscape in purple shadows.
Pad…pad…pad… I slap my paws on the ground, squeezing dirt between my clawed toes as I watch rust-colored dust shimmer against the blue haze of midnight.
“Mate… ” Hunter roars and bumps his shoulder against mine, impatiently demanding my attention. When I ignore him, a mighty head-butt sends me tumbling backward with a force that leaves me sprawling in the dirt.
The big cat stands over me, purring as he approves my new appearance. I squirm on my back, enjoying the feel of him on a primal level never experienced before. Hunter’s purring increases, overwhelming my resistance, and threatening to bury the part of me who is Maggie Jenks.
He lowers his head and rubs his muzzle against my furred shoulder, then steps over my awkward sprawl and flops down beside me. I flip to all fours sniffing the air; there it is again, the noxious scent I can’t identify.
I crouch beside the bigger cat, meeting his unblinking gaze. He growls, showing white fangs. Then, he stands and stalks angrily around me, tail twitching in short, tense jerks. I—she—we–recognized his need to dominate. His verbose rumbling and pacing doesn’t frighten us at all.
A smile blossoms inside me, and I preen as the magnificent beast circles, his muscles rippling in the moonlight. Abruptly, as though he’s come to a decision, he rushes me, playfully nipping my shoulder, before he pins me to the ground.
I’m no match for his brawn. Carefully, he lowers his weight across my back. When I try to roll away and resist, his teeth close over the spot where shoulder and neck connect. The bite shocks me, flooding my body with erotic heat.
Mate… I hear him as clearly as if he’s spoken. Ironically, that’s what brings my sense back. Though part of me had no desire to escape, I struggle to find my way out of the dreamscape, repeating my one line as if it is a talisman, dispelling the power of Hunter’s magic. My name is Maggie Jenks, and I’m a healer.
Disgusted, he grips me by the nape of the neck and shakes me. The force of the motion clears the remaining confusion from my brain.
My name is Maggie Jenks, and I’m… Before I can finish my incantation, he releases his hold on me, roaring a scream of denial in the night. Then, the jaguar snarls, knocking me on my side.
I roll and come to my feet, walking down the hill, first on four trembling legs that change at some point to two. I know he stalks behind, but I won’t turn for fear I’ll give into the wild urge to stay and never be Maggie Jenks again.
I stumble naked toward Clarence and my buggy and scramble onto the seat as though the devil chases behind, and maybe he does. I wrap the old blanket I keep in the buggy around me and huddle on the seat as I urge my horse to hurry. “Take me home, Clarence. I don’t know what just happened, but I need to be away from here.”
The beast paces beside the buggy, guarding me as he herds me from danger. I feel his presence until Clarence is once again in his stall. The moon is waning, barely lighting my path as I walk the distance from shed to house.
Mate, he roars. Change, he demands. I hear him as I tear through the tissues of sleep.
When I ignore his commands, closing my mind against him, a jarring knock sends me to the ground where I roll in a ball, protecting myself from attack.
~~~
The sharp bite of pain cleared the remaining confusion from my brain, and I jerked awake—still Maggie Jenks, a red-haired witch lying in a tangle of blankets on the floor next to Hunter—not a golden-furred feline prowling on four paws during the night.
I was afraid I’d get sucked back into the world of illusion, so I eased out of Hunter’s embrace. Before rising, I inspected my arms to make certain I hadn’t sprouted fur through my skin. When I touched the spot on my neck nipped by feline teeth in my dream, the mark pulsed under my fingers. Quietly, I rose, shivering in the chill night air.
My dress and undergarments were folded neatly at the foot of the cot. Looking at the nest where Hunter slept on his back in a huge sprawl, it seemed likely the small bed wasn’t used often.
As I dressed, without striking a match, I inspected every nook and cranny in the enclosed space. Before I left the tent, I retrieved the bloodstone. I didn’t remember putting it on the bed the night before. I thought it had remained with my dress.
Hard to believe this was once a boulder. I grinned and palmed it, wondering why I’d thought it charmed; at the moment it seemed nothing more than a rough rock.
Though it was the period before dawn when total darkness blankets the world, I needed to be outside. I dropped the oddly colored stone into my pocket and ducked out of the tent.
Unlike my dream, there was no bright moon overhead. And yet, as I stood in the darkness that still clung to night, I could see the insects that flitted among tufts of grass and hear the beat of their wings. A myriad of sounds bombarded me, and I caught my breath, shaking my head to clear my senses.
As my vision and hearing gradually returned to normal levels, cautiously, I continued on the path to the center of camp. Dew coated the mossy trail, wetting my bare feet as I tread softly. My body felt different, better, stronger, more… Intentionally, I mimicked feline movements, padding across sandy ground as if I now had paws.
But I wasn’t a cat, jaguar or otherwise. Sharp rocks poked the bottom of my feet, and before I’d reached the dying fire, a thorn found its way into my heel.
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