by Lisa Kessler
She sighed, and her voice wobbled. “I saw a pyramid and an altar, and I heard chanting. When Mulac pulled his wrist away, I caught myself chanting, too. Mulac smiled, but he didn’t tell me what the words meant.” She looked up at Calisto, before staring at Lukas again. “Do you know what ko’oten means?”
“It’s Mayan.” Lukas frowned. “It means ‘come.’”
In the heart of the rainforest, the ground rumbled and finally ripped apart. Searing heat shot up through the jungle floor, followed by a deafening inhuman cry.
A scream. Fury. Pure raw anger.
The nocturnal creatures of the rainforest fell silent, sensing the invisible menace that lurked around them. Drenched in moonlight, a form slowly rose from the heat and steam at the center of the earth, like a flame reaching up to the heavens. At first resembling more mist than flesh, the flame finally took the shape of a monstrous black Jaguar with crimson eyes that burned with Demon fire.
And with the silence of a jungle cat, she disappeared into the world of man.
Gretchen changed into her sweats and flipped open her laptop. Electricity still felt like a luxury after being in the jungle for so many months. Calling up Google, she searched for a Calisto in San Diego. During lunch, Muriah had mentioned his name in passing as the man Lukas was meeting. She’d made a mental note to check it out later.
Surely there couldn’t be more than one Calisto, right?
After clicking a few links, she got up from the laptop, pacing her hotel room. She found one Calisto in San Diego. Calisto Terana. But he wasn’t a historian at all. He was a philanthropist.
Did Lukas need money? Is that why he didn’t want her to come along? But why would he lie?
She closed her laptop and headed to the bathroom. A hot bath sounded like heaven. After being rejected and lied to all in one night, her ego was bruised and her frustration simmered.
She could tolerate some bad behavior but not lies. Once someone started lying, leaving was right around the corner.
Her own mother taught her that.
Chapter Nine
“She comes!” the Guardian bellowed through the pyramid.
Issa’s eyes flew open as he sprung to his feet, only to abruptly fall again. The earth shook with fury. He fled to the main chamber of the pyramid, joining the Guardian and his brothers, Colin and Kane. The ancient stones cracked overhead as the ground rumbled and quaked beneath their feet.
“Come!” Issa yelled. “She will bury us here if we stay.”
He didn’t wait for them to answer. Issa raced for the jungle, stopping in the clearing. He spun around to find his immortal brothers following, with the Guardian not far behind them.
Kane rubbed the scar on his chest, the one he’d received from the Demon the last time she walked this earth. “She knows we are here.”
Issa looked up at the Guardian. “You must delay her until we can find Mulac. We cannot face her without him.”
“And you will not have to,” a voice called out from the jungle.
They all turned. Issa’s lost brother stepped out of the shadows. His white hair looked almost silver in the moon’s glow. Issa had never been more thankful to see him.
“Mulac, God of the North, we feared you did not hear the call.”
He bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me for being… late.”
With no time for reacquainting, the Guardian stepped forward. “Camalotz has been summoned into this world. You must perform the sacrifice immediately.”
“Summoned?” Kane wheeled around, his deep blue eyes narrowing. “Impossible! She has awakened, but to be set free…that would mean…”
“Yes,” the Guardian answered. “Ch’en, the Goddess of the Moon, walks the earth, immortal again, and she has called the Night Demon forth once more. Camalotz answers.”
“It cannot be.” Issa stared into the jungle as if he might catch a glimpse of the Demon.
“You created me for her.” The deep timbre of the Guardian’s voice never fluctuated. “My spirit is connected with hers. I feel her freedom from the prison beneath the soil, and she will feed.”
Kane froze and looked up at the Guardian. “Then the end is upon us.”
“No.” Issa took a step toward him. “If Ch’en truly walks immortal among us, then we will find her. She must once again banish the Demon into the earth.”
“But what if Ch’en will not go into the pit so willingly this time?” The wind pulled at Colin’s red hair while his gaze moved between Issa and Kane.
Kane crossed his arms, his voice low. “She must.”
The Guardian left them to search for his mate. Issa knew he would do his best to occupy the Demon’s attention while the gods plotted. But there was something abnormal happening between them all…and one of them had remained strangely silent.
Gretchen got out of the tub, dried off, and slipped into the white, terrycloth hotel robe. The hot bath definitely helped her relax some, but it didn’t ease her frustration. Almost on cue, the bedside phone rang. It was after one in the morning. Gretchen frowned and picked up the receiver.
“Gretchen, it’s Lukas. I’m sorry for calling so late, but I need to talk to you.”
She sat on the bed, fighting to keep from inviting him over. “Before you tell me more lies, Muriah mentioned Calisto’s name. I googled him, and it turns out he’s a philanthropist. Last time I checked, donating money didn’t require a degree in ancient civilizations.”
The line remained silent for a minute. Good. She waited.
“I don’t have time to explain right now, but that thing you felt in the cenote back in the jungle? It’s loose.”
Gretchen raised a brow, shaking her head. “That’s the best you could come up with? Did the rich benefactor in La Jolla tell you that? Geez, Lukas, give me some credit.”
She could almost see him rubbing his brow in frustration.
“If you don’t believe me, get your computer and look at the news headlines for Brownsville, Texas.”
“Fine.” Gretchen propped the phone between her ear and her shoulder, opened her laptop, and typed Brownsville into the search engine.
She scanned the first article, and her heart sank.
Locals discovered twenty-five dead bodies in Brownsville, Texas today—and just across the Rio Grande River in Matamoros, Mexico, another fifteen were found dead. All wounds appear to be self-inflicted, most with their throats cut or mutilated. It is not yet known if these apparent mass suicides are related, or if there is any suspicion of serial mass murder. Authorities have yet to comment on the time of death…
Gretchen stopped reading and looked out at the city lights. “You think this is related to our research? Lukas, the glyphs tell the stories of Mayans. None of that is real. People don’t drink blood and live forever.”
Frustration filled his voice. “You were the one who told me you felt the evil down there, right? I don’t have time to explain. Just… Until we can get together tomorrow night, I want you to stay safe.”
Your blood can make you free.
The words echoed through her memory and goose bumps broke out on her arms. It couldn’t be related. She swallowed the lump of dread. “I’ll be careful.”
“I’ll see if Muriah can come by again in the morning.”
Gretchen rolled her eyes and shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine. If you’re that concerned, you could always cancel your meeting tomorrow and spend the day with me.”
She waited, but Lukas’s silence was all the answer she needed. “That’s what I thought. Goodnight, Lukas.”
She somehow managed to keep from slamming the phone down. It wasn’t the hotel’s fault that Lukas was impossible to read. It’d be so much easier to walk away and leave him if she hadn’t seen his eyes that night in the jungle.
He needed her.
Or maybe she was pathetic enough now to cling to every mixed signal he put out.
She blew out an exasperated br
eath and put her sweats back on. In the morning she could research the mass suicide in Brownsville and see if she could find a connection between their research site and the crime scene. But right now she needed some rest.
The Guardian sensed her hunger, her yearning, and he quickly abandoned the four brothers. Freewill was something he had never known and would never know. He was not born into the world—he was created into it.
For it.
All of his attention focused on her. He didn’t notice the jungle insects that sought to feed on his inhuman skin or the eerie silence that hung heavy in the air. The Demon stalked through the darkness of the rainforest searching for him, too, and he would answer her call.
The Guardian pushed through the ferns, weaving around the twisted trunks of the trees, running, his form melting and mutating until he loped silently through the night, a huge Jaguar with inhuman grey eyes, searching for her. His pace halted, ears twitching as he sniffed the night.
Moonlight shone on his sleek jaguar body. He turned and headed deeper into the heart of the jungle. His padded feet silenced his approach as he came upon a fresh kill. Her scent lingered around the boar, mingling with the rich blood. Scanning the area, he took a cautious step forward.
Only now did he notice the complete silence. He heard it. Silence possessed a sound all its own that no music could ever duplicate, full of foreboding, foreshadowing the presence of the unknown. Without sound, the enemy could be anyone or anything. Lurking in the shadows, waiting until it was too late for protection or defense.
But he knew his enemy. She was also his lover, his reason for existing. And he would find her. He would distract her from her bloodlust with sins of the flesh. But first he must feed—his body was weak.
He lapped at the pooling blood of the wild pig, his gray feline eyes never ceasing their search for her in the silent darkness. He felt her watching. The small infusion of blood offered his inhuman muscles renewed power and strength. With a guttural growl, he paced around the kill and finally chose a path to follow.
He stopped almost as suddenly as he had started. His ears flattened, lying back defensively, for while he loved her as his reason for being, he also feared her.
A throaty roar broke the silence. He spun around to find a mammoth black jaguar like himself, with eyes like fire, stalking him. Unlike the Night Walkers, she was not limited to a single spirit animal. Once she drank the blood of another, she could take their form as easily as she could poison their mind until they became an offering to her. And now she was mimicking the Guardian, mimicking the great God of the East who helped create him.
Camalotz.
Crouching back on his powerful haunches, the Guardian sprung forward with his razor-sharp claws extended. She rose up, her vise-like jaws snapping at his forelegs when he knocked her to the ground. Blood poured from both of their bodies as the giant jungle cats wrestled, their snarls and screams echoing through the Yucatan.
His claws tore along her chest, ripping open huge gashes in her sleek coat. She roared in anger, and perhaps even pain. The Guardian himself felt nothing, only duty. For as long as her attention remained focused on him, as long as she stayed with him, the wave of death ceased.
Camalotz had no connection to the mortal world except to feed. As a ferocious force of nature, a primal being, she had no sense of restraint or conscience, only hunger, a yearning for passion, pain, pleasure. For the feelings the mortal world took for granted. Although she didn’t understand the emotions, she desired the sensations they brought. And when Camalotz had yearned for a mate to share them with, the immortal brothers took the Demon’s own blood and gave the Guardian’s stone body life. For blood is life. The force, the energy of life, flows in the blood of all living things, and Camalotz’s blood offered him that priceless treasure.
She gave him life from the death of the mortals she stole from. His shriek echoed through the night as her jaws clamped on his throat. Gradually her form changed and mutated until she took on the image of a woman with dark, copper skin, drawing slowly at the wound in his neck. His huge paws embraced her, holding her close to him as his own body became once again human-like. He stroked the thick, dark hair that fell down her back as she fed from him.
“In tial,” she breathed against his chest.
“Yes,” the Guardian whispered. “Always yours.”
Under the moon’s iridescent glow, their bodies tangled together and finally united in a carnal embrace they had not known in millennia.
Issa approached the circle. “The Guardian has gone to the Demon.”
“This cannot be happening,” Kane fumed, pacing back and forth.
“Aye, but it is, brother.” Colin’s voice now carried a hint of an Irish brogue that unsettled Issa each time he heard it. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it.
“She cannot escape unless the Goddess of the Moon calls her into the world.” Kane stopped in front of Colin. “There is no other way for her to break free.”
Issa stepped forward. Kane’s frustration would do nothing to help aid their cause. He wasted his energy. “You are correct, brother. The goddess Ch’en must live again.”
“And that is impossible,” Kane snapped. “We sacrificed her body and burned her heart. There can be no rebirth. No reincarnation.”
“We hoped there would be no rebirth,” Mulac said quietly. “We did not know if we had prevented it.”
All three brothers turned to look at Mulac.
“Even if she did live again, she would be mortal in this lifetime.” Kane raked his fingers through his blond hair. “She would not know her past. And she would no longer be a Night Walker.”
Mulac shrugged. “Perhaps her past self knew her.”
Issa nodded. “It is possible. The Demon might have reached out to the goddess through dreams.”
“We must find her,” Kane said quietly.
“The goddess?” Colin asked. “She could be anywhere, Kane.”
“Then we need to hurry.”
“It is futile, brother,” Issa said, his tone soft. “This world is vast. She could be anywhere. We will be searching in vain.”
Issa watched Kane pace like an agitated jungle cat. He reached for his brother’s thoughts and found Kane’s mind shielded. Issa frowned. While he felt a duty to protect this world, his brother’s anger seemed hot and personal.
“Do none of you see that we have no other choice?” Kane gestured to them and dropped his hand in disgust. “Camalotz nearly ripped eternity from my chest the last time we faced her. I still remember the pain of her claws clenching around my heart. Have all of you forgotten?
“She will never be satisfied, my brothers, not until there is nothing left in this world to feed her, and I have no intention of letting her find my Rita.”
His mate. Issa remembered Colin telling him his brother had taken an immortal bride. Although Kane had a tendency to launch into action without thinking things through, this explained his urgency.
Kane resumed pacing. “Although you seem to think this search will be futile, we must try. If we allow the Demon to gain enough strength, the mortal world will not be the only one in danger. None of us will be safe from her appetite. Are you ready to see the end of this world, of your very lives? Because the end is surely what is coming unless we do something to stop it.”
Kane stared at each of them, a silent challenge brewing in his blue eyes.
Issa knew what lay ahead for them, and part of his soul yearned to retreat back under the sands of Egypt. He was tired of fighting for a world that no longer knew him, that he no longer belonged to.
But he was a god. Upholding the western corner of this world was his purpose, his reason for existing. He bore the weight of all humanity on his shoulders, and he couldn’t abandon it when it needed him most. Without duty, he was merely a shadow of a past long forgotten.
Issa sighed, nodding his head, conviction filling his dark eyes. “You are right, Kane. We must find a way to stop her.”
&nbs
p; “Or die trying,” Colin offered.
Mulac nodded slowly. “If it is not already too late.”
Chapter Ten
Gretchen awoke with a smile. After spending more nights than she could count on a cot in the jungle, she’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to sleep in a real bed. She sat up, stretching, and looked out at the horizon. She’d left the drapes partially open last night so she wouldn’t miss the view when she woke up.
The sunrise didn’t disappoint.
She’d never been to San Diego before. She’d heard it was a beautiful city, but that seemed like a huge understatement. The sky was pure blue without a single cloud. She could see the downtown skyline, and the deep, cobalt water of the bay sparkled in the morning sunlight. Still in her rumpled sweats, she got out of bed and pulled the curtains open completely.
Boats with bright sails bobbed along the bay outside, and seagulls swooped over the rooftops. She looked up just as a shiny blue-and-red jet glided down between the high-rises, landing at the airport right on the edge of the water. The tall buildings clustered downtown were just south of her window. Sunshine reflected off the glass skyscrapers, making everything look clean and new. Beautiful.
Smiling, she turned and opened her door to grab the morning paper waiting for her just outside. Tucking the paper under her arm, she sat down in the chair next to the window to read.
Her smile faded before she even turned the first page. On the cover the headline read:
Another Unexplained Mass Suicide in Tecate, Mexico Has Authorities Baffled
Her brow furrowed as she read further.
Just across the border in Tecate, Mexico, over 150 people have been found dead from self-inflicted injuries. Other than similar wounds to the neck, there are no apparent connections between the victims, or motive for the sudden wave of suicides.
The story went on to name the dead and speculate whether all of the recent mass suicides were related and how. Gretchen dropped the paper; she didn’t want to read anymore.
