Black Jaguar (Book 2 in the White Tiger Trilogy)

Chapter 14- Disco Spider

"Black Jaguar"

2015 Copyright © All Rights Reserved.

Stryder Sweetman.

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Chapter 14

And we were back in the office.

As I sat there waiting for the others to arrive, I stared at the artworks on the wall, a little weirded out by the abstract shapes.

I really gotta redecorate this place. Marc's taste in art is... unusual. I thought.

Jason sat in the leather chair in front of me, daydreaming, and I leaned against the front of my desk, turning to stare at the open door as they all slowly trailed in.

Finally, when everyone had taken seats on the couches and chairs placed around the room, I turned to look at Tristan. He had a happy glow as he sat on the loveseat next to Georg, who was smugly sprawled over the chair.

"So..." was all I said.

"Heh, um, well," Tristan rubbed the back of his neck, blushing as he made eye contact with Georg, "I actually have no idea."

There was a collective groan around the room as everyone slumped a little further into their postures.

"No idea?" I repeated.

As if on cue, Blake wobbled his way out from inside Tristan's long sleeve, yawning, "Man, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had."

"Was it by chance that you turned into a massive black and red wolf and went crazy on a rogue?" Tristan raised an eyebrow at him.

Blake rolled his eyes in two different directions, "Nah hon, it was that this cupcake was chasing me down the street yelling in French. It kept saying 'Araña discoteca!'. It was insane, man." He yawned again, stretching like a cat.

"That's Spanish." Nixon deadpanned, "It means disco spider."

I stared at him with incredulity, "You know Spanish?"

"Hey!" He raised his hands in a defensive sign, "I have skills!"

"Besides," Blake continued, "that shiz with the wolf was real."

Blake seemed to puff out his chest, reminding me of Morte on one of her egotistical joyrides.

Tristan shook his head at the chameleon, "You're crazy."

Blake wobbled his way off of Tristan's wrist and onto his hand, before getting a determined look in his eye.

"Crap," I muttered, just before the little beast flung himself at Georg's face.

He grabbed a hold of Georg's nose between his toes, clinging desperately to his face as he maintained eye contact with him, easy for the chameleon, as he made his eyes point outwards far enough to keep looking.

Georg tentatively put a hand under his body to catch him if he fell, as the creature began to make threats.

"Yo, dawg, if you hurt ma boy Tristan here, there's a big can of butt whoopin' comin' your way. You'd best be careful." He glared.

The room sat on in silence as Blake spat profanity after profanity at Georg, before Tristan peeled him off his mate's face and hushed him.

"Alrighty then..." Georg gave him a curious look.

"Blake's dramatics aside, are you sure there's nothing you can say, Tristan?"

"I've been preoccupied by Georg-"