Jungle Freakn' Bride (3 page)

A shrug lifted his
friend’s
shoulders. “Gods
’
will. Free will. Who’s to say they’re not both the same thing? How can we know for sure any of our actions are our own?”

“You have been talking to
G
randfather again
,
haven’t you?”
Acat asked sternly.

“
More like breathing the same air,” Chaob replied with a beatific smile. “
Lighten up. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”

By the gods, he hoped not.

They traveled several days, mostly at night when they co
uld blend with the shadows and traverse
from treetop to treetop, silent shadows on a quest, their fleeting presence noted and avoided by the smarter prey and predator.
And those who
got in their way
?
They made a great meal.
Nothing like fresh meat to keep his inner beast happy.

The smell
carried on a faint breeze
hit them
just over
a day’s run from the outer edges of the jungle.
He stopped dead and Chaob almost plowed into him.
He inhaled deep, and thought himself mistaken when it came to him faintly.
He shook his head, yet the tantalizing aroma tickled his nose. Called to him.

And he wasn’t alone.
Without pausing to confer, he and his other tribe mates loped through the darkness, following the enticing scent, a perfume that grew stronger, more
delicious
.
He’d never experienced anything like it. Never smelled anything so delectable, so right, so…
mine.

I will know her by smell…
Crazy. Unbelievable and still an uncertainty. He couldn’t be sure the odor came from his supposed bride. Perhaps it belonged to something else, but his feline knew and headed straight for it.
For her
.

W
hen he finally found the source
of the tantalizing aroma
, he just about fell out of the tree
he
landed in
.
He
thanked the gods he couldn’t laugh
while in his jaguar form
,
because while grandfather might have been right about them finding their brides, he could have never predicted this.
Never in his wildest imaginings
did
Acat
anticipate the gods
’
love of celestial jokes.

I wonder what
G
randfather will say when he sees my bride.
His very American
,
white
-
skinned
, blonde
-
haired
bride. Feline lips curling into an approximation of a smile
,
he couldn’t help but hope someone took a video of the event.

Somewhere in the Lacandon jungle,
a few days
before Christmas…

Nothing screamed
“
Wake up, dumbass!
”
like regaining consciousness to the fluttery warmth of something breathing
moist air
in
to
her face. A living
,
breathing entity
, which
smel
led
both earthy and spicy –
covered in
tickly fur.
In other words, something that didn’t belong in the shelter with her.

P
anic took complete control of her body.
Despite
knowing it was the middle of the night and pitch black
,
Carlie’s
eyes flashed open
to see the intruder.
In retrospect, she
perhaps
should have feigned slumber
,
given she now stared into a pair of glowing eyes – one golden, the other a clear blue.
Had she forgotten to note they glared – probably with murderous intent – a few paltry inches from her face? Not a
good
distance when it came to wild animals, especially with no bars to separate them.

Should she freak?
There’s a plan. S
cream my face off
, get eaten, and become a tiny blurb in the paper.
On to option two
–
call
for help
.
Sure, because high
,
piercing shrieks won’t piss it off and send it into a murderous frenzy.
Skipping that route seemed prudent. What did that leave?
Pee
ing
her pants?
Seeing that Carlie held the control to her bladder only tenuously at the moment, it was almost a foregone conclusion. As for closing her eyes and pretending nothing stood over her eyeing her like a tasty tidbit?
No way am I letting that creature out of my sight.

Choices. Choices.
To act or not to act
?
Maybe later she’d choose a route of escape. For the moment,
it didn’t truly matter
what she wanted to do
as terror froze her from head to toe. She
could
n’t utter a sound
,
not when her vocal cords refused to cooperate.

Paralyzed by fear, she just concentrated on breathing – without any whimpering
or reciting of Hail Mary.
Funny how staring death in its mismatched eyes could make a girl find religion. Lying like a wax statue seemed best
considering any sudden motion or sound might startle the jungle cat staring intently at her.

How did she know a giant kitty hovered over her? She’d watched enough documentaries about the Lacandon jungle region to recognize those distinctive orbs
of what she’d wager was a jaguar. The massive golden eye and round pupil shape gave it away,
even if the
fact the cat
also
possessed a
blue
one was an anomaly
.

How did I not hear it enter the tent? How did it
get in
?
She’d drawn the zipper tight and snapped it
shut
so nothing could sneak in
and snuggle with her
.
It only took waking to one fist-sized, hairy spider – with a scream to wake the dead – to realize the merit
of
making her sleeping area as secure as possible.

A damp nose nudged her cheek. Carlie bit a threatening shriek into submission.

Did the how
-it-got-in
matter?
Only one simple f
act
mattered. A
big ass cat stood over her, and judging by the glint in its narrowing, mismatched eyes
,
the feline was damned hungry.
A raspy tongue emerged and swiped across her cheek, then back
,
leaving a wet trail.

Oh
,
dear God.
She waited for the jaguar to follow with a
great
big
bite, and held her breath as her whole body tensed. It rubbed a furry head against the wet spot. Soft, silky fur did not distract her from the fact this wild creature wasn’t a domestic pet. Out came the tongue again, trailing over her cheek to her chin and then across her lips. Oh, no way.

“Gross!”
she
exclaimed, finding her voice. “That was so uncalled for. If you’re going to eat me, then just do it already. No need to torture me with slobber and
bad
breath.”
She wanted to slap herself for the outburst as soon as she uttered the last syllable. So much for staying calm in the face of death.

Expecting to get her face
chewed
off,
she waved her hands around for a weapon
–
didn’t find one of course, unless her hand lotion counted. She did locate the small pencil flashlight she used at night if she needed to visit a bush for a late night pee. Brandishing it, she flicked it on, the feeble beam reflecting off the eyes of the predator.

“Get away,” she said in a wobbly voice, pointing it at the feline. “Or I’ll poke you with my stupid weapon.” A human would of course laugh at her threat, but she hoped the words and menacing wave with her object
would
…
W
hat
? Make the giant cat suddenly tremble in fear?

The jaguar, of course, didn’t run away.
It
cocked its head
,
and darn it all if it didn’t seem
as if it smiled
. Wait, could cats smile?

A paw landed on her wrist, immobilizing her arm. A moment later, her other arm got pinned
as well
.
The tip of
its
tongue peeked again for a quick swipe at her chin. It tickled. She squirmed,
arms held flat,
the sleeping bag trapping
t
he
rest of her
limbs
and torso
under the caging legs of the cat.
Forget
escape
. The jaguar
lowered its body and
squished
her flat, its weight impressive enough to force the air out of her lungs.
The head moved to the side, th
e
disturbing eyes – showing too much intelligence and misplaced humor – left her as the feline sniffed her skin, nuzzling the bare flesh between shoulder and neck, then lower.

Lower? Wait a second.
The damned creature was pulling the blanket in its teeth, the unzipping sound loud in the tent.
Carlie
wiggled madly to no avail. I
t seemed Mr. Kitty wanted its food unwrapped.
The only
good
thing was it released her arms, and then her body, as it wiggled back, taking her sleeping bag with it.

Prey exposed
,
the jaguar proceeded to sniff
its
way up her body
.
T
he brush of a damp nose
, too close to her girl parts
ma
de
her pull up her legs.
“Perv. Stay out of there. I’ve sworn off men for this trip, and that goes for
big
kitty cats too.”

It ignored her and leaned forward to smell again. Before she could stop herself, she tapped it on the head. “No.
Bad kitty.
”

A low growl rumbled and
mismatched
eyes flashed in her direction.

Okay, perhaps she shouldn’t have smacked it. Still
,
though, i
t wanted her to lie still while he sized her up for dinner? Not
freakn
’ likely.
Yet, what else could Carlie do?
Her pale
,
human flesh would prove no match to a creature that not only outweighed her
,
but sported a set of nasty teeth and claws. Doing nothing, though, seemed dumbest of all.

I am not going to sit here and let the darned thing eat me. Not without a fight.
She kept her legs up to her chest when it occurred to
her she
was no longer frozen
,
n
or did she camp alone in the jungle. If she shouted out,
then
some of her expedition’s members
would surely come to her aid.
If they haven’t gotten
mauled
already.

Nothing like optimism to brighten a girl’s night. She opened her mouth,
closed her eyes against the possible violence about to erupt, and prepared to let
loose
the mother of all yells.

Great plan, except
a hand slapped over
her lips, stifling any sound
.

A hand? Who was in the tent with her and the cat?
How did they all fit?

She opened her eyes, but even with her flashlight still feebly shining, the shadows were too thick for her to see anything with clarity.

An arm snaked around her upper body, and
she
reacted, thrashing against an iron band that didn’t budge. Of the
cat, she saw and heard no sign
,
b
ut at least now she knew how it got in.
Someone let the jaguar in my tent.
But why?

The hand over her mouth loosened as her attacker shifted her body. Carlie used his lapse to make her move. Biting down hard, she heard a sharp hiss, and she kicked out, glad for once of her extra size. She broke free and scrambled for the opening of the tent.