Fixation (12 page)

Balam addressed Jaguar Warrior again, but Jaguar Warrior evidently wasn’t having any of whatever Balam was trying to sell. He drew himself up even taller, his strong features morphing back and forth between jaguar and human as his voice rose in pitch and fury. I felt Balam’s muscles tense up even further, as if he was psyching himself up for a fight.

A low, rumbling growl emanated from the vine-covered door to the third gallery. The growl filled the room not just with sound, but also with the vibration of a loud, sustained clap of thunder. I felt it all the way through my body, into my bones.

Holy shit.

The biggest jaguar I have ever seen stalked through the door towards us, muscles rippling beneath glowing golden fur marked with rosettes the size of my hand. It was at least the size of a full-grown male lion, if not larger. Raw power flowed from it.

Jaguar Shaman had come to join the party.

And his fierce golden gaze was fixed on me.

I froze in place as he padded silently past the rest of the exhibits, all of which were now standing still again as if turned back into stone. Smart exhibits.

Balam was like a statue at my side. Jaguar Boy pressed up against my side, holding tightly onto my hand. Even Jaguar Warrior was quiet, silenced in mid-rant. Only Jaguar Baby seemed unconcerned, curled up by my feet and idly washing a front paw as Jaguar Shaman stopped in front of me, his head level with my gaze even though he stood on four legs.

He stared at me, intelligence and power fairly glowing from those golden eyes. I stared back, not wanting to show fear even though I was almost literally shaking in my high-tops. He said something, words somehow uttered in a low, rumbling growl. Balam answered him and the two spoke back and forth at length.

“What is he saying?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

“He says even if they did wish to help us, their power is at a low ebb. Even now Anani is trying to wear down their defenses to gain access to the powers of the Cauldron. I have told him we are willing to give them the power of our joining with the ritual ... but they do not trust you.”

“Oh, fer crissake,” I growled. “What does he need, a signed contract that I won’t fuck them over?”

Jaguar Shaman looked at me and growled low in his throat, the sound sending shivers up my spine. He turned to Balam and spoke again. Balam nodded thoughtfully.

“What?” I snapped. “What now?”

“He is asking permission to enter your mind,” said Balam. “He wants to know your intent.”

“Did they do this with Anani?”

“No. It is not something asked lightly, but Anani’s betrayal has made them understandably wary.”

“And if I refuse?” I was not thrilled with the thought of some strange being having access to my innermost thoughts and feelings.

“Then we will not have their aid for the ritual.”

Crap. That narrowed my choices down to one.

Oh well, at least he asked permission first, which was some comfort.

I looked directly at Jaguar Shaman and nodded. “Go ahead.”

Almost instantly I felt his gaze piercing my being, his essence mingling with mine as he searched my mind and my memories, rifling through them like someone flipping pages in a magazine and skimming the articles. At first I balked at the invasion, but as it continued I could feel how gently his mind touched mine: a whisper instead of a shout. I gave myself over to Jaguar Shaman’s mental touch, relaxing into it as though receiving a psychic massage.

When he finished, Jaguar Shaman’s mental fingers gave me one last caress before slipping out of my mind. He nudged my hand with his giant head, then took a step back from me, turning to Balam and Jaguar Warrior. He spoke again, words unintelligible to me but their meaning clear enough as Balam smiled. Jaguar Youth nodded, satisfied with whatever was said, while Jaguar Baby and Boy frolicked around my legs. Only Jaguar Warrior still frowned with distrust, but even he knew when he was outvoted. He glared at me once more and turned away to show his displeasure. Jaguar Baby reached out and swatted his legs, rolling out of reach when Jaguar Warrior growled and shook his spear.

I looked up at Balam, who smiled down at me with relief and excitement.

“They will help us,” he said, grabbing my hands and kissing them.

Jaguar Shaman made a low chuckling noise deep in his throat and padded silently back into the third gallery.

“Come,” said Balam, and hand in hand we followed Jaguar Shaman, the rest of the Jaguar gang close behind.

The third gallery was totally transformed. Where there had been walls, there were now only trees. The ceiling was gone and the exhibits either roamed freely through the foliage or blended in with what was now a tropical jungle like the one where Balam and I had romped as jaguars. Vines hung from the tree branches, dripping with flowers in jeweled hues of ruby red and amethyst. In the middle of this tropical paradise sat Evaki’s cauldron, now raised about five feet in the air and resting on a dais, which in turn topped a ziggurat. The basalt cauldron shimmered with a subtle golden hue. The air was redolent with a heady perfume. I inhaled deeply and turned to Balam.

“What happens now?” I asked. Fear and excitement were doing a tug-of-war with my heart, now thumping wildly in my chest. I wondered if they could hear it. Balam led me to the center of the room, directly in front of the cauldron. I could feel it tugging at me and did my best to avoid it.

“Now it begins, “ Balam said softly to no one in particular, but his murmur echoed through the room, both his voice and his shamanic power rippling through the air. It had begun. He stood still and lowered his head, holding out his hands at his sides just away from his body. With a shimmer, his street clothes vanished. In their place, he now wore only a rough loincloth of dappled jaguar skin, twin bracelets made from long, flat bars of green jade, and a necklace of linked golden squares, each sporting a different glyph. The small leather bag holding his totem hung below the lowest link of the necklace. His beautiful bronze chest was painted with a scattering of black jaguar rosettes, which I thought accented his muscles remarkably well, and a wide black bar of paint now crossed his forehead from temple to temple, masking his eyes like a domino mask. He looked sexy as hell.

With a jolt I realized my clothes had transformed as well. Like him I was barefoot now. My hips were covered by a light cotton wrap, dyed white. Three chains of tiny silver bells served as a belt. I felt like an Egyptian princess in it. From the waist up, I was naked except for a collar that didn’t quite reach to my breasts; it was made of long, shimmering feathers as rich and brilliant a blue as the sea at Cancun. Exquisite ornate bangles of silver and jade encircled my upper arms.

My amazement at the magical wardrobe change was interrupted by a heavy thunk as Jaguar Warrior cast his spear into the ground in front of the dais holding the cauldron; it sunk in deep and the shaft quivered from the powerful throw. With perfect choreography and in silence, the Five took their places, forming a ring around the pair of us. Really? I didn’t know if I could really go through this with all these Jaguar guys watching. Ancient animal spirits or no, I wasn’t a porn star.

The masks on the walls were still there, watching our ceremony with interest, only now they hung from the branches of the jungle trees that surrounded us. The cauldron thrummed with its own power, only now it seemed to blend with the magic being generated by Balam and the Jaguars, helping them instead of trying to draw everything into itself.

Balam raised his face and arms towards where the ceiling had been, constellations slowly spun overhead now. For the first time it struck me how much the shimmering, cloudy Milky Way could look like a great, feathered serpent spanning the universe, if you were in the right frame of mind.

“
Yanen Aká Tapabilẽĩ, chak bacab lak’in.
” Balam spoke an invocation to the night sky overhead, his resonant voice seeming to reach the stars themselves. I didn’t know if it was my psychic ability kicking in, or Balam’s doing, or maybe it was part of the magic of the ritual itself imprinting itself on my brain, but in my mind the ancient words echoed in English:
I am the Red Jaguar of the East.
As the line was spoken, Jaguar Baby turned his back on us and left the circle, padding off a short distance away, and took his place again facing the east.

“Yanen Aká Tapekẽĩ, sak bacab xaman,”
Balam said again, this time joined by Jaguar Boy.
I am the White Jaguar of the North.
He also turned and left the circle, taking three solemn paces before taking his position. I guess I didn’t have to worry about an audience after all.

“Yanen Aká Tapadirẽĩ, k’an bacab nohol,”
Balam and Jaguar Youth intoned together before the youth took his own place three paces out.
I am the Yellow Jaguar of the South.

“Yanen Aká Tümügünẽĩ, box bacab chik’in.”
I was surprised it was the Jaguar Shaman, not Jaguar Warrior, who joined in this time and strode off, his powerful tail lashing.
I am the Black Jaguar of the West.

Where we stood, Balam, Jaguar Warrior and I now formed a triangle, contained by the others in a diamond formation, faced out along the four compass points. A psychic nudge from Balam gave me my cue, and the three of us raised our faces, arms, and voices to the heavens, and as one we called out:
“To’on Kab Tukuẽĩ, ya’ax chumuk tulakal le ba’al.” We are the Earth, the Green Center of All Things.
I could feel the power of what we were doing coursing through my nerves.
I am a part of this
. The thought thrilled me more than I could say.

Balam and Jaguar Warrior stepped towards one another and reached out their arms, locking hands and eyes. It impressed me how well matched they were; they were very nearly the same height and shared the same muscular physique. The handsome pair could have been twins, especially with Balam’s new cat markings, except for the warrior’s head. His anger hadn’t let up, and he was well into his transformation into a jaguar-man. There was almost nothing human in his face now; his head had near perfect feline shape, his eyes burned like gleaming gold, his skin was covered in a silky velvet of jaguar hide.

“
Yanen Keri, ken ho’sik Xüxü.”
Balam said.
I am Keri, who bore the Sun.

“Yanen Kame, ken ho’sik Nune,”
Jaguar Warrior responded with a deep growling voice not quite human.
I am Kame, who bore the Moon.

The magic carried me along with the ritual and I could sense the mystical structure of it. Four sacred directions had been invoked: three called upon the center; two the sun and moon; now one last invocation remained. It was time for my part. Guided by unseen hands and unheard voices, I felt the pull of the sorcery draw me to Balam and Jaguar Warrior. I reached out and placed my hands against their hearts: the three become two became one.

“Yanen Ewaki; Naaak’ab, Nawayak’.”
I said, giving myself over to a trance state that filled my mind like water pouring into a cup.
I am Evaki, Mother of Night, Mother of Dreams.

Beneath their warm, bare chests, I could feel the beat of their hearts. I was surprised theirs were racing as much as mine. The two released their hands and turned to me. I suddenly felt shy under their gaze as it dawned on me that Jaguar Warrior wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever was about to happen between Balam and I, the fierce half-man, half-jungle cat was going to be a part of it. The thought made my thighs quiver a little, but I made myself match his angry stare and resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to pull my hand away from his chest.

Our eyes met and for a moment I felt pinned down in the gaze of those hard, burnished golden lights, as if we were locked in an unspoken duel of wills. I felt his still-hot anger and suspicion like they were alive, as if they were burning through my flesh like a blazing inferno stoked by a roaring wind setting the air itself on fire. But I held my ground and pushed back with all my mind and heart, taking strength from Balam and from the mystical forces gathering around us and through us; knowing somehow that I risked disaster for all of us if I gave in to fear now. And I wasn’t about to let that happen.

Then just like that, the fear passed. I had passed the silent test. Jaguar Warrior’s eyes shifted and softened, the silent accusation giving way to something like trust, and something more. His face, while no less fierce, blazed not with ferocity, but with passion.

Then the ultimate part of the ritual was happening.

They moved as one. It almost was as if Balam and Jaguar Warrior were mirror images of each other as each put a powerful hand on mine where it rested on their chest, then with surprising gentleness, traced up my arm, over my shoulder, coming to rest on the nape of my neck. I could feel the tips of Jaguar Warrior’s claws just touching Balam’s fingertips, andthe sensation raised the tiny hairs at the back of my neck. Then the two pulled us all closer together, arching their heads down to each side of my throat, and nuzzled me there. Balam’s soft, full lips tasted me; Jaguar Warrior’s sharp canines dragged and caught against my skin in a love bite. I ran my hands up their broad chests and higher until I slipped my fingers around their heads to pull them closer to me. The sensation was incredible. My head lolled back while I gasped, clinging to them, trying to catch my breath.

While the two continued to ravish me with their bites and kisses, their free hands began roaming across my body. Balam caressed me down to my belly. Jaguar Warrior teased my breast with his claws. I bit my lip and trembled while my nipple became swollen and firm under each sharp, dangerous point of contact. Balam’s stealthy hand snaked further down my belly, past the strands of tiny bells and over the cotton folds covering my mound, coming to rest snug between my legs. His strong yet gentle fingers traced out little circles and lines, stroking me moist. Both lovers kept their grip on my nape, supporting me as my legs buckled.

Then the one velvety, clawed hand released my neck with a long, slow drag that left faint trails of crimson lines down my back before it grabbed my butt, kneading it. Balam dipped his head from my throat to my breast and took the stiff, aching nipple in his mouth. I anchored myself, hanging on to their brawny shoulders while they worked on me: breast, butt, and clit.

After a few blissful minutes, Jaguar Warrior slipped his hand down to the back of my thighs, then with ridiculously little effort simply whisked my whole body off the ground and cradled me in his furry, dappled arms. He smiled at my surprise, and then with a growl that made me wet, brought his mouth to bear down on mine. His kiss was hard, hot, and strong. I could feel the points of his fangs with my tongue. I grasped at his chest and shoulder for dear life. His partner in crime took advantage of my helplessness, lifting my flimsy skirt to expose me completely, and taking firm hold of my knees to spread my legs apart. Then I felt the warmth of his cheeks against my inner thighs, the grip of his smooth hands on my ass, and then his mouth and tongue were on me, in me, all over me.

Wow. Oh, wow—

I writhed in one lover’s embrace, my legs flexing and flailing on the other’s broad shoulders until they somehow sensed I couldn’t take any more, or maybe they were just eager for more. Acting on some silent cue, Balam pulled away so Jaguar Warrior could set me on my feet again. I reached for them and pulled the three of us into a close embrace again. I touched Balam’s cheek and leaned in to kiss him long and hard before turning to Jaguar Warrior and doing the same to him. I flashed them my best canary-eating smile and ran my hands down their backs all the way to squeeze their sweet firm asses and rock-hard thighs, sinking down to my knees before them as I did.

Their loincloths were already tenting. One at a time, I reached over and nimbly untied the leather lacings, and pulled away the hide breechcloths to unwrap my presents. As their uncut shafts rose before my eyes, I sped things up by taking one in each hand and milking them. It was exciting to feel them pulsating and growing in my fists, becoming longer and thicker until they were fully erect. I held both close to my face and went back and forth between them, using my lips and tongue to tease each with long licks and wet, sloppy kisses. It was fun torturing them for a change. They reached for my hair and groaned while their captive cocks buckled and twitched for me.

Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer myself; I had to have one of these monsters in me. I rose to my feet and stood cradling their cocks in my hands while I did a quick mental eeny-meeny-miny-moe. Then I leaned in to Jaguar Warrior’s ear and with a kiss whispered, “Will you hold me up?” I couldn’t tell if he understood my words, but he let me lean back and press my back against his furry chest. When I hooked my arms around the back of his neck and hoisted myself up, he got the hint and wrapped his arms around my stomach, clasping me firmly to his chest as if carrying me in a baby bjorn. I lifted my legs and softly called Balam to come and take me.

He didn’t hesitate an instant before joining us. In a moment our faces were so close I could feel his breath. I watched his bright eyes gleam from the band of dark ceremonial paint as he lifted my ass to close the gap between our sexes. I arched my pelvis to meet his and wrapped my legs around his hips, hooking my ankles to squeeze him tight. The feeling of his rod nudging its way past my soft folds of skin and then sliding into me, filling me, forced a long, stretched-out groan from me. I loved the press and the heat of his body against mine, the two of us grinding together; loved the ache in my arms as I hung suspended, like a necklace against Jaguar Warrior’s broad chest; loved the feel of his mighty heartbeat in my whole body, each pulse beating through the warm carpet of his fur against my back. I could feel his stiff cock as well; its length was nestled against the crack of my ass as he held me tight against him. As Balam continued fuck me with one long, drawn-out stroke after another, the cat-man’s silky penis shaft would rub against the groove of my butt cheeks too. It tickled just a little.

The three of us stayed like that for what felt like forever, Jaguar Warrior supporting me in his arms effortlessly, standing like a stone idol again, but so soft and warm as I reached back to brace myself on his sturdy shoulders. Balam had never looked sexier as he stood with my thighs locked around him, his perfect torso pressed up hot and close against my breasts and belly, deep in me, my ass supported in his strong hands. Waves of pleasure kept rising and falling deep within me, slowly building, building, but still not to the peak—not yet—