Black Jaguar (Book 2 in the White Tiger Trilogy)

Chapter 8- Dark Visitor

"Black Jaguar"

2014 Copyright © All Rights Reserved.

Stryder Sweetman.

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Chapter 8

I crouched to the ground, spinning in a slow circle, surveying the forest around me. I was less than 100 metres away from the lake, hidden between some thick foliage. The leaves of the bush behind me scraped against my skin though my white tank top, but I ignored it. There was something more important happening- I was being followed.

The slightest movement to my left had me sprinting towards it, letting out a threatening roar before pouncing on the predator that I was making my prey. I tackled it to the ground and frowned.

“You’re not really getting the hang of this, are you, Tristan?” I stood up, taking my weight off of his torso, before grabbing his hand and yanking him up into a standing position.

He dusted himself off, scowling thoughtfully, “I don’t understand the point of this training exercise.”

“When you infiltrate the rogue packs, you won’t immediately climb the ranks- you won’t be trusted. You have to learn to stealthily observe the members, so that they don’t notice you. If they see you, hear you, smell you or notice you in any way, you’re done for- unless you can lie and explain yourself in a way that they let you go but they are incredibly suspicious creatures.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, “let’s start again.”

I turned a

Round, showing him my back, before heading in a random direction, counting loudly, “One, two, three, four…”

He disappeared into the bushes behind me, and once I’d taken twenty steps, I stood still and listened carefully, crouching in a hidden position to make his job harder on him.

I hoped he’d be clever enough to use the light wind against me; going downwind would eliminate his worry for his scent being detected. A light crunching of leaves behind me caused me to slide under the shrubbery and grab at whatever had made the noise. “Aha!” I cried, taking hold of him.

I pulled him out from behind the bush and gasped, letting go. “I’m so sorry!” I yelped at Santa Beard. I’d taken hold of his beard to yank him forward.

He angrily rubbed his chin, giving me a glare. “What in the world are you doing, Alpha?”

“Uh, nothing,” I couldn’t tell him about Tristan’s mission, “just kind of-”

I was cut off by a high pitched “Hee-yah!” as Tristan leapt out of the trees, tackling me to the ground and giving me a toothy grin as he pinned me to the floor.

I went bright red at Santa, and shoved Tristan off of me, standing over him before raging, “YOU CAN’T DO THAT IN THE REAL SITUATION! THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU’RE MEANT TO DO!”

I was trying to use vague descriptions to keep Santa out of the loop, but I felt fury build up inside me. My vision was encircled by a thick black fog, and I felt a reassuring sensation- I was meant to do this.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Tristan looked heartbroken as he sat limply on the ground beneath me. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Santa stepped forward, putting a hand on my arm. “Ben, calm down. Whatever the kid did wrong, he doesn’t deserve you yelling.”

The darkness faded from my sight, and I shook myself. I took a deep breath, glaring at the ground. Once I’d calmed, Tristan stood up, “I’ll just… head off.”