Fixation Read Free

didn’t try to tell her. She wouldn’t believe the truth. And honestly, who would?
    “Good,” she said. “We’ll be putting him in the empty cage in quarantine for the night. Kyle’s coming out tomorrow to check him out before we put him next to Sandy.” Kyle was our vet, a rugged-looking Aussie with an accent to die for. I’d had a total crush on him until I realized he wasn’t interested in my type. As in, female.
    “What’s the new jag’s name?”
    “Nagual.”
    “Cool name.”
    Jeri nodded. “Yup. I have no idea what the fuck it means.”

Chapter Two
    Patrick and Nagual showed up in Patrick’s truck around seven. Jeri and I met them in the back quarter of the compound by quarantine along with the two full-time keepers, Meg and Farrell. Both Meg and Farrell are short, dark, and wiry, with mellow temperaments. They look and act so similar they were often asked if they’re twins, which they weren’t. They were just one of those couples that start to morph into one another as the years go by.
    I’ll spare you the gory details of all the swearing, sweating, and straining that went on while we got Nagual situated. PG Reader’s Digest version, I only got a brief glance at Nagual through the grate of a wood and metal crate before we muscled the thing from the truck bed to the quarantine airlock (picture a cage with in inner and outer doors, the inner door with a guillotine gate, which can be opened and closed from the outside of the structure via a pole-and-pulley system), but I could feel his stress and fury at being caged up all too sharply.
    Patrick unlatched and opened the crate door as Farrell slid the guillotine gate open. A low grunting noise reverberated from the crate. A brief pause, then a truly magnificent jaguar exploded from the crate into the quarantine area. The guillotine gate slammed back down the minute Nagual’s tail cleared the opening.
    He gave a low rumbling growl and bared his teeth at us, his eyes glowing lambent gold in the lights. Jaguars are built like bulldogs on steroids, with sturdy chests, strong stocky legs, and shoulders. Nagual was no exception.
    I stared at him as he sprang from one side of the cage to the other, up onto the den box and back down again, muscles coiled steel beneath his glossy coat, classic brownish-yellow with black rosettes, smaller markings inside each rosette. He was simply one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.
    “Oh, you beauty,” I said under my breath, trying to project waves of soothing calm towards him.
    Nagual stopped dead in his tracks, landing from mid-leap to the cement floor where he hunkered down and stared straight at me.
    Whoa. This was a first. I mean, yes, I was capable of projecting feelings and images to both animals and some people, but I’d never had either react this way before.
    I moved to the side.
    Nagual’s eyes tracked my every movement.
    Patrick waved a hand in front of the cage.
    Nagual ignored him.
    “Guess we know what he wants for dinner,” joked Farrell.
    You okay, fella? I reached out cautiously, trying to put the words into images. Jaguars didn’t speak English, after all.
    Nagual continued to stare at me as if I were the only person or thing in the area, totally fixating on me. Kind of flattering, and definitely a bit spooky.
    What’s up with you? I wondered.
    Suddenly my head filled with images and feelings not mine, as if someone had shoved out my mind and replaced it with theirs. The images flickered like a PowerPoint slide show on hyperdrive.
    Damp heat. Moving through the jungle at night, low to the ground, afraid of nothing. A dark clearing lit only by torches. A woman, fierce and beautiful as a jungle cat. The smell of piñon or some other fragrant wood-based incense. Flesh against flesh. Fur and flesh mingling. Darkness. Trapped in a small space.
    And rage, unforgiving and implacable.
    The images and feelings vanished as suddenly as they’d come, leaving me dizzy and confused.”
    “Maya,