She was always meant to go with Julio to meet their intertwined fate. Their destiny was predetermined by events that had happened in this town over a hundred years ago. Foreordained by the actions of an arrogant Spanish officer who wanted to possess the Diwata of Mount Lambana.
Comandante Antonio Gomez had desired the nymph, not only for her beauty, but for the chance at immortality. Maria hadn’t returned his affections: she had declared her preference for a Filipino farmer named Pedro Santos. Spurned, the Spaniard had arranged for the untrained native to be recruited into the fledgling Philippine armed forces. Pedro had been mortally wounded in a skirmish. He’d called out his beloved’s name, and though she had appeared right away, he had died in her arms. In her grief, Maria had begged her father, the supreme God Bathala, to bring him back to life. Her plea was granted: Pedro lived. But in exchange, Maria had been forbidden to mingle with the townspeople ever again. Brokenhearted, she had focused all her bitterness on Comandante Gomez and cursed him to die. After a fond farewell to Pedro, Maria Lambana had retreated to her mountain, never to be seen again.
Now, here they were: Julio and Dian, the two men’s descendants, trying to find the diwata, though nobody had seen her for over a century.
Dian asked Julio what everyone in their town had been asking for years: “What happened after Comandante Gomez died?” Local militiamen had killed the Spaniard as he fled, after his murder of Pedro.
Julio paused and looked at her. “His remains were sent home to España. His wife was already there with their child. Like many Spaniards not involved in the war, she left Manila before the fighting intensified.”
“How did you learn about the curse?”
“Mi madre told me after my promotion last month. She is panicked that I am still unmarried and have no child. I’m her único hijo: our line will end with me when I die.”
When, not if. “What was the exact nature of the curse?”
“In every generation since la Guerra Tagalog—five, now—only one male is born into la familia Gomez. All have joined el Ejército de Tierra, the Spanish Army. Every single one of the four before me died after being promoted to the rank of Comandante.”
“Why didn’t she tell you when you joined?”
“She thought I was an officer in the foreign service, not in the military.”
“Your mother didn’t want you to join the army, so you lied to her?” she snapped, unable to stop the bite of her censure.
Red tinted his high cheekbones. “I was young and arrogant. I thought she was smothering me,” he said, regret tinging his voice. “It wasn’t considered la maldicion, a curse, until my father died when I was a child. My abuela and my mother researched the family history and learned of the folklore from the Philippines. For them, it was too much of a coincidence not to be true. They steered me toward the arts; toys were always educational, never martial. But the military is in my blood. After university, I joined the army.”
“Why did you decide to come here?”
“Mama urged me. She believed I can beg la encantada to reverse the curse. I’ve deceived her for too long, I promised I’d try. The army didn’t allow me to go on leave until this week. I thought I lucked out when I found your father online and he was free to take me up because school’s out.”
“Yes. It’s sem break. We didn’t have cla—Ack!” She let out a squeal when lightning flashed, followed by a rumbling thunderclap. Grabbing her raincoat from her backpack, she shouted to Julio, “We have to take shelter. Flash floods are a real danger here. There’s a hut that way.” A quick glance told her he’d copied her and donned his raincoat also. She took off in the direction she had indicated, knowing he’d follow.
This downpour wasn’t in the weather forecast. It only meant one thing: “Inang Maria knows we’re here. And she is not happy.”
Chapter Four
Déjà vu. Julio caught up with Dian after a few steps. He had frozen for a second back there, after the lightning struck. Although he’d never been here, he had recognized the trees and the sounds of the forest, and particularly the burble of the now-familiar stream as they’d hiked. Eyes had followed them, even when no one else was on the path, coming up from behind.
She’s coming.
This time it was different. No mist, no fog, only rain. This time, he had Dian with him. At the end of this day, he’d either be set free from the curse, or he’d be dead. He preferred to live, but it wasn’t up to him.
Lo que será, será. What will be, will be.
The silver cascade of a waterfall in the distance stopped him cold, the sight of it sent shivers down his spine. Me cagué. They’d arrived.
“Julio, come in before you drown.” In the doorway of a shack to his left stood a woman in white with waist-length black hair, sparkling black eyes, and gleaming brown skin.
Maria!
He blinked, and the vision was gone, replaced by the reassuring image of Dian. She had taken down her hair and removed her eyeglasses and raincoat.
Julio rushed into the simple structure, relieved to be out of the damp, glad it was empty except for him and Dian. The fresh, earthy smell of rain hitting sunbaked dirt greeted him when he entered. The scent pleased him. It was preferable to the cloying sweetness of the flower that had signaled the enchantress’s arrival in his dream.
Inside the sturdy palm and bamboo structure, Dian sat on one end of a long wooden bench, ruffling her hair to dry the thick mass. Her raincoat hung on a nail by the door. He crossed the room to hang his on top. The arms of his plastic jacket wrapped around hers as if in an embrace. In his mind’s eye he saw their images similarly posed. Naked. His loins tightened at the intimacy of his thoughts.
“Won’t you sit with me?”
Julio groaned inwardly. The huskily uttered words heightened his arousal. He turned to find Dian with her left hand on the bench beside her. She placed it on her lap when he moved to obey her request. Careful to keep his gaze above her chest, he sat down gingerly. His polla had started to harden.
“We’re almost there. Only four kilometers to go,” she told him.
“No. Aquí. We’re already here.”
“Your dreams?”
“Sí. Were yours in a different place?” She knew this mountain. Perhaps he was wrong.
She shook her head. “The location wasn’t always clear. I caught vague snatches of where we were. Sometimes the mud spring, other times the Amaya Falls. The only consistent element was …” She paused, blushing.
“In all of them, we had sex.” One final fuck before she lured him to his death.
“Um, yes.”
“But we never kissed.” His gaze dropped to her lips, watched as she rubbed them together as if imagining how a kiss between them would feel.
“No.” Her tone lowered to barely above a whisper. “Never.”
He eyed her averted profile. After a moment, he lifted his hand to her chin, moving it to face him. “If I’m going to die tonight, I don’t want to go with regrets. I’d like to know what you taste like. Te puedo dar un beso?”
Her lips parted; the single word came out in a sigh. “Sí.” Eyes clouded with desire raised to meet his.
Dark brown, not black. The correct color of her eyes popped in his head as he traced the plump twin flesh of her mouth with his thumb. Her tongue flicked out, moistening the pad of his finger. With a growl, he swooped in to capture her lips. Tongue plunging deep, he imitated his desire—to thrust into her softness with his pene. Her moan, the eagerness of her response, gave him permission to wrap his arms around her and hold her close.
This was infinitely better than his dreams. More real. Sweeter. Her scent, earthier. Musky: that of aroused woman. Her taste, delicioso. He could quench his thirst just by sipping from her lips. After the climb, he was parched.
She squirmed in his hold. Breaking their kiss, she demanded, “More. Closer.”
“Sí más,” he muttered before fusing their mouths together again. Without breaking their kiss, he stood and
pulled her to her feet. He lifted her to wrap her legs around his hips, then he sat back down, straddling the bench. Hands clenching her waist, he rasped out against her mouth, “Dian, I crave to touch you. Will you allow me the pleasure?” His palms itched to learn her curves, to feel the velvet of her skin.
“Only if you allow me to touch you too.” Her hands, which were moments ago around his neck, had dropped to his chest, rubbing his nipples until they hardened.
“Sí, te permito. You can touch me however you want.”
Both of them reached to lift the other’s shirts, arms tangling in their haste. Julio let Dian take his off before he caught her shirt and bra in both hands and whipped them over her head.
“Eres bella,” he whispered, appreciating her beauty. He palmed her breasts, measured their weight. “Perfecta.”
“You’re the beautiful one. All hard muscles and smooth skin.” Her hands wandered over his shoulders, chest, and stomach. They hovered above the waistband of his pants, mere inches from his erect shaft.
“Cariña, there’s nothing I desire more than the sight of your hands wrapped around my cock.” He groaned when her fingers reached for the drawstring. “But I’m so primed, I’m going to explode in the air. When I come, I want to do it inside you with your pussy milking my polla for every drop.” He tensed as she pulled at the ties. “But, I don’t have a condom with me: I can’t protect you.”
When she drew back, disappointment filled Julio when she drew back her arms and removed her legs from around his waist. Relief replaced his frustration when she lifted her hips and pushed her khakis down her thighs.
“I’m clean,” she declared.
“As am I,” he all but blurted, eager to experience the reality of her rather than the hazy dream.
Dian sat back down, but off his lap. Reaching once again for the drawstring tie, she pulled to loosen his waistband and reached in for his swollen penis.
He shucked his pants down to his knees and returned her to his lap, her pussy poised above his cock.
“Are you sure?” His hands clamped on her ass, he was ready to plunge at her go-signal.
“Yes!” Dian grabbed ahold of his penis and wiggled her hips. “In. Now.”
His lips quirked. Maria, the enchantress in his dreams just took. Dian, the woman of his dreams, demanded his full participation.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Julio playfully intoned before bringing her hips down at the exact moment he thrust into her soft heat. They breathed their moans as a duet. “A perfect fit, dulzura”
While their joining was familiar, Dian’s joyous enthusiasm was not. She plunged in sync with his thrusts. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his back when he suckled on her breasts. She screamed when she came, drowning out the sounds from nature’s rage outside their shack. If it even raged outside—he didn’t know, didn’t care. He was surrounded by Dian, filled with her. Triggered by her inner spasms, he climaxed. Come gushed out of him into her welcoming depths.
He was spent, but at the same time, elated. This joining was everything his dreams were not: fulfilling. Julio tightened his hold on the woman in his arms. Dian made all the difference. She was his hope, his salvation. He’d never let her go.
~~ * * * ~~
“Julio, come to me,” the voice called out. “It’s time.”
He went. He couldn’t do anything else. What will be, will be.
Chapter Five
“Julio?” Dian awakened to total silence, her lover nowhere to be found. They’d had sex for the second time on top of their raincoats. She’d fallen asleep and thought he had too. Chilled, she reached for her clothes, grimacing as the damp fabric clung to her skin. Once dressed and shod, she opened the door of the hut, intent on searching for her missing companion. She froze at the sight that greeted her.
A full moon—brighter and larger than she had ever seen before—hung low over the trees. Impossible. They’d sought shelter well before noon. Dian could have sworn she’d napped for only minutes, not hours.
Fear slithered down her spine. The scene was from their dreams. The curse! Dian took off running toward the stream
“Julio!” she sobbed. Please, dear God, let me not be too late.
She skidded to a halt. The hand covering her mouth couldn’t quite stop her cry of distress. “Oh, no!” Julio was waist-deep in mud in the middle of what was usually a stream. The waterfall that should have been cascading clear liquid now produced brown sludge instead. Any progress Julio made to move closer to the bank was immediately erased by fresh mud filling up the space he’d left.
“Dian, she lured me here pretending to be you,” Julio told her of his plight, his slumped posture a picture of defeat. “Don’t come closer, cariña. This is my fate. I want you to remember me fondly.”
“No!” Dian shouted the denial even as she searched for something to use to pull him out. “You will not die today. Not if I can help it.”
There! A coil of rope at the base of a narra tree. She ran to it, thanked whoever had left it, and tugged it to test its strength. The ends were frayed, but it would do. It had to work.
She tied one end around the sturdy trunk and returned to the bank. “We will go down this mountain the same way we came up. Together.”
His eyes turned silver in the moonlight, a sheen of tears making them glimmer. “Ah, mi vida, I will do anything you tell me. Te quiero.”
My life … I love you. Could it happen that fast? They’d only met this morning, and yet they’d been fated for a lifetime. “You will have to tell me again when you’re safe in my arms. I won’t accept a declaration without a kiss.” Dian looped the other end and tightened it with a knot. Uttering a silent prayer, she launched the rope at Julio. Please let this work.
“Shit!” The rope fell far from its target, even though Julio lunged for it. The trunk took up too much length. There was no other choice: she had to be the post. With quick hands, she transferred the braided cord to her waist, shouting instructions as she made the second attempt.
“Julio, bend forward and let gravity do its work.” Dian’s heart gave a little leap of hope when he caught the rope with his outstretched hand.
“I got it. Let go if I get too heavy. Prométeme, Dian,” Julio implored her.
She had no intention of ever letting go. “I will. Come on. We can do this.”
He jumped as a roll of thunder crashed from beyond the waterfall. Dian used the impetus to pull him. To her relief, he slid forward at her tug, his legs freed from their mucky prison. Planting both feet squarely on the ground, she heaved with all her strength, thankful when the distance between them lessened. She took a deep breath, prepared to bring her lover to safety.
The stench of rotten eggs and a blast of heat assaulted her at the exact moment Julio let out a howl of pain. The mud had started to bubble. Steam and gas rose from beneath the mud pool that only hours ago was a stream. Maria! That witch controlled this mountain. She was calling forth the molten lava.
Dian felt the rope slacken. Her brave man had gotten closer on his own. He’d crawled on his belly toward her; the slick surface had aided his progress. But the effort had cost him. His shirt was shredded, and his naked skin was burned in places that touched the boiling mud.
Trying to keep her voice from breaking, she called out, “Julio, turn over. It’ll hurt less if you’re on your back.” As soon as he complied, she took side steps to tow his supine body. “Only a few meters more, and you can stand without sinking.” Shoulders throbbing, arms shaking, Dian summoned her last reserves and pulled the rope until her palms were raw, until her legs gave out from under her. She went down on her knees, her hands still clutching the cord.
“Dian, mi amor, you saved me.” Julio, hair matted with mud, face drenched with tears and mingling with sweat, was finally on his feet again. Unsteady, but standing. And alive. Behind him, a volcanic nightmare visible: red and orange liquid fire flowed over black rocks. The mud had become lahar.
She held out her
hands to him. “We did it together, my lo—” The earth shook. The rope that still connected them broke. They were thrown to the ground.
“Pakialamera!” The inhuman shriek rent the air. Maria Lambana loomed above them. Eyes shooting angry fire glared at them. At her. “You meddling fool! You have no right to interfere. His life is mine to claim.”
Tears came unbidden to Dian’s eyes. She’d called this woman “Ina.” Everyone in her town did. No. Their mother was the one who had generously provided the townspeople with nature’s bounty for hundreds of years. Not this one. There was nothing motherly about her now.
Brushing the tears away, Dian got to her feet. “Julio is innocent. So was his father and the men whose lives you’ve taken away for over a hundred years. You cursed Comandante Gomez for taking Pedro’s life, what is your curse for your lack of forgiveness?”
Hot wind whipped Maria’s hair wildly around her head and flapped her dress across her body. “My curse? You ask about my curse? I’ve been alone for one hundred years. I’ll be alone forever!” she wailed.
Bitterness twisting her features, she faced Julio. With a wave of her hands, she lifted him in the air. Julio flailed helplessly, already weak from his ordeal. “I would have given up immortality in exchange for love. Your ancestor took that choice away from me when he killed my Pedro. You are the last of his kin: your choice is forfeit.”
“Stop it, you evil witch!” Dian hurled a rock at Maria. It only grazed the demi-goddess’ arm, yet it was enough to break her invisible hold on Julio. She flinched as her soldier fell with a thud. Sorrow filled her when she heard his bones snap from the impact, but Dian kept her attention on the supernatural being whose rage was now solely focused on her.
Dian knew she ought to be more frightened. She wasn’t. She’d accepted her fate. Julio still lived: she’d saved him. There was no point in trying to save herself. It was too late.
Maria let out a guttural scream. She raised her arms, bringing chunks of molten rock to fly around her. “You betrayed me! Falling in love with my enemy. Hurting me.” With blood in her eyes, she grabbed a fiery slab from the air and hurled it at Dian. “Goodbye, daughter.”
Moonlight, Monsters & Magic Page 2
