Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

marks, casting back and forth along trails.

    The tapir path was well-traveled and led to the stream. She crossed the worn trail several times, marking a new, very faint scent already fading. Rain was ever present, nearly every day at this time of the year, and helped to remove traces of animals passing along the animal routes, but this scent was distinct because she’d never run across it before.

    She followed the smell and found crushed mushrooms where a large cat had stepped on the fragile fungi, the head imprinted with a partial track. She found rake marks high on a fig tree and a scratch on a buttress root where the cat had hunted a kinkajou, a small animal that looked a bit like a ferret but was of the raccoon family, a favorite of jaguars to hunt. The shadow cat had liberally sprayed a fern where a male jaguar had scent marked, challenging the other male for the territory. The shadow cat appeared to be in his prime and unafraid to challenge any males, clearly aggressive even in foreign territory.

    She followed the small bits of information—crushed leaves, an overturned stone, a rip on a tree branch and another partial print beside the ribbons of water that flowed into the small stream that fed her underground basin. She was positive she had found the trail of the shadow cat. She sank down near the bank of the stream and waited, her head on her paws, her body still, the rosettes hiding her in the dappled brush and leaves.

    A branch cracked. The crickets ceased their chorus for a brief moment. She stayed very still, wishing she’d chosen a spot in the trees where she could see what—or who—was coming at her. Not Dominic. She knew where he was at any time. Not a vampire. There was no feel of the dread the undead brought with them.
    The forest hadn’t shrunk back, appalled at the foul abomination of nature.

    There was a sudden scattering of monkeys overhead. A jaguar, then—and he’d taken to the trees. He had probably caught the scent of the shadow cat, and had come hunting the male who had been aggressive enough to challenge him. She needed to pinpoint his exact location without giving away that she was anywhere near.

    Dominic. If you can hear me, don’t come out into the open when you emerge from the rocks. There’s a jaguar here. I don’t know if he’s harmless or hunting.

    I can hear you. Dominic’s voice came immediately, sliding into her mind intimately. Are you in danger?
    There was a grim edge to his voice, as if, had she once again put herself in danger, he was going to have to carry out his promise to put her in a bubble.

    Solange struggled to keep amusement out of her mind, knowing he didn’t find the situation fraught with humor. She’d been in danger her entire life. Today was no different. That was what living in the rain forest and being jaguar meant. I am perfectly fine for the moment. What did you find?

    She inched her way into a better position, watching the trees. He would have chosen one with lower branches so he could easily spring on his prey. That narrowed his choices somewhat. He would want branches nearest the stream. There were tapir paths clearly marking the frequent trips from forest to water.
    The banks were muddy and hoofprints indicated several tapir had come to feed in the water recently.

    The shadow cat definitely came this way. I have not seen the imprint of this mage before; each is unique to the user. But I will know it should I come across it.

    Are you close?

    Right behind you. I am drifting with the steam coming off the forest floor. Have you spotted his location yet?

    She caught the tip of a tail twitching in the tree just to her right. One limb swept out over the water and the jaguar crouched, very still, other than the tail that often betrayed excitement, eyes glued to some prey in the water she couldn’t see.

    I’m not close enough to tell if he’s fully animal or my species. I can’t scent the man in him. Either way, it was going to be dangerous to move. She was in his territory, and regardless of whether he was animal or jaguar-man, he would be interested in a female.

    The steam on the forest floor began to widen and drift upward, slowly obscuring vision as the gray vapor spread, a thick mist that stayed along the bank and the surrounding trees. Layer after layer deepened until the forest floor and the stream were no longer visible. The thick mist wound around the fig tree, crawling up the trunk like the liana vines. The jaguar began