Drawing Deep

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Drawing Deep Page 12

by Jennifer Dellerman


  Ria grinned and batted her lashes. “Because, being the gentleman you are, you wouldn’t like to see little ole me get dirty.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like you’re afraid of a little dirt.”

  Still smiling, she ascended to her spot and flicked on the light. It was definitely an I. Or possibly the Roman numeral one. She just wasn’t positive.

  As that thought sank in, she rolled her eyes at herself. Instead of climbing back down and scooting the ladder over, and thus knocking Lance from his current position, she turned her attention several rows down to the next etched stone in easy reach. Impatient, she brushed at the dirt, found another little rectangle. It bore the imprint of the letters IV.

  Her head reared back. She was going to have to go with Roman numerals. Another frown marred her expression. Roman coins and now Roman numerals? It didn’t make sense.

  She turned and looked at her surroundings, tapping the brush on her thigh.

  Each wall was covered in the same wide, rough, cream-colored blockwork and rose approximately fifteen feet high and curved at the corners so the whole structure was slightly oval in shape. By utilizing the boring tool in her case, they found the wall to be about eight inches deep at the top, just under two feet at the base. The steps were created by flat sided stones of varying size and colors that reminded her of the ocean; blues, greens, grays. All now dulled and rough by time and use.

  She and Lance had gone over each wall and the steps with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any other markings or pictographs before focusing their concentration on this particular portion.

  Jutting out from the main wall about half an inch, it reached a height just under eight feet with the width a tad over three feet. The coloring of each stone was a whitish-gray with a rough texture. No two stones were the same shape or size and the etchings weren’t in any particular order or placement. Overall, it came across as an odd addition.

  Ria and Lance still thought it might be an altar.

  Based on the information gleaned from Gwen, the group already hypothesized the five foot difference was what had separated the ruin from the house above it. Even so, they still had no clue how the dirt got there, or why all the walls had been smeared with enough dirt to hide them from view.

  Now somewhere, somehow, she had to plug the mystery of the Roman coins and numerals into this whole mess.

  How Chris could think there was nothing here was beyond Ria. Uncovering treasures might pay the rent, but, in her estimation, the real pay-off was the hunt, the unraveling of how the story, or myth, came about.

  Turning back to the pictograph, she switched the brush for one of the dental picks she carried in her pocket and cleaned out the embedded dirt. For the second time, she reared back, her heart jumping in her chest. What she had assumed was a depiction of the Egyptian sun god, Ra, lacked a brow, and the lines flowing below didn’t stem from that single, slanted eye. Those lines were thin and parallel to each other.

  What stared unblinkingly out from the stone was a cat’s eye, complete with whiskers.

  Yes, her thinking could be compromised, considering she’d had cats on her mind lately. But then again, it made sense. If Claude Morgan was the ancestor of the Felix family, he, in all probability, might also have been a jaguar shifter. They didn’t just come out of thin air, and it wasn’t like one could be turned into a shifter. One was born a shifter.

  “It seems Santos has taken an interest in you.”

  The statement caught her so off guard Ria almost dropped the dental pick on Lance’s head. “He, ah, was just upset over what happened yesterday.”

  “Ria.” Her name was a mild reprimand.

  “Lance.” She mirrored his tone.

  Silence reigned for a while and she went back to work on the topmost etching.

  “He guarded you in the kitchen. That’s not someone who’s upset. That’s protective. And possessive.”

  She wished the pick was a hammer so she could drop it on his head. “Not having this conversation with you.”

  Lance adjusted his position almost awkwardly. “It’s just...”

  Ria glanced down when he trailed off. “What?”

  His face, when he looked up at her, was filled with concern. “There’s probably something you should know.”

  Her mouth snapped shut. Was he about to tell her he knew what Santos was? She might have told herself she and Lance were going to have a talk yesterday, but, now that it seemed imminent, she wasn’t ready for it. How could she hear it, knowing she kept her own secret from him. Someone she considered a friend.

  She shoved down the stab of guilt. “There’s nothing going on between Santos and I, so if whatever you have to say doesn’t involve the dig, then it’s irrelevant.”

  “If it involves you,” Lance countered, “then, as my friend, it’s very relevant.”

  And the guilt grew thicker. “That’s sweet, Lance, but I’m a big girl and – ”

  The rest of her words were interrupted by his cell phone. With a sound of frustration, he opened it. Above him, Ria ran a shaking hand through her hair.

  “No shit? Are you sure?”

  Turning back to her work, she listened with half an ear at Lance’s continued comments of surprise until she could no longer stand it. She glared down at him until he finally hung up and tilted his head, grinning like a loon.

  “Well? What was that all about?”

  “It seems that Teri’s got a bun in the oven, and you’ll never guess who supplied the yeast.”

  Ria shook her head, not understanding why he found the pregnancy of a co-worker, particularly their boss’s assistant, amusing. Then it hit her. “Oh. Are you kidding me?” Her voice went into a hiss. “Chris?”

  Lance winked at her. “And you win the round trip for two to Hawaii. Can you believe that? Robby’s girl dropped off his stuff for the Alaskan trip over at Teri’s today where a ticked off mama-to-be blurted everything out. Seems she told Chris yesterday and he is totally and completely not thrilled.”

  Ria crossed her arms. “So he was diddling his assistant even as he was trying to diddle me? What a jerk. If he was here rather than digging through the debris piles with Robby, I’d strangle him.”

  Lance shrugged. “Teri never hid her interest in him, and, while I don’t necessarily condone office liaisons, they are both consenting adults.”

  “He took advantage.”

  “He’s Chris. If it’s there and available, he’ll take it.”

  About to retort, his words caused something to click. Lips compressed, she surveyed her surroundings once again, eyes blurring with a burgeoning possibility. Like a bullet, she leapt from the stepladder and raced for the stairs.

  “Wait!” Lance hailed her. “You can’t go off half-cocked.”

  Several feet from the top, she plunked herself down on a step and placed her eyes at ground level. “Shush,” she held Lance off with a raised hand.

  After a few moments where she twisted her head this way and that, Lance whispered, “What is it?”

  “Taking advantage of what’s available.” She muttered. Then she was up and moving again, racing to the edge of the clearing.

  Of course Lance followed her out, and when she lay down on her side, facing the hole in the earth, he put his hands on his hips. When she rolled to the other side, he only shook his head. “Yeah. You certainly do have a phobia about getting dirty.”

  Silent, she rose and jogged to the far side of the clearing where she repeated her seemingly erratic behavior. Then a third time. A fourth.

  By the time she focused her attention on Lance, she was covered in dirt. “I think a meteor made this. The ground slopes. The ruin at the bottom of the apex.”

  Lance folded his arms, looked skeptically from Ria to the open pit. “Seriously?”

  “Possibly.” She corrected. “It would account for the missing dirt. Whoever made the ruin took advantage of what was available. Used the built-up soil around the crater to fill in the outside area of the blocks
and over the top of the roof, completely encapsulating it but for the steps. Also accounts for why such a large area is totally devoid of life. Too much iron.”

  Lance turned a slow circle, pondering her theory. “Okay. Even if that solves the how, it doesn’t solve the why or who. I still believe it was used for food storage. Florida gets hot in the summer, but underground, it’s cooler. Same temp year-round.”

  Hunched over, legs crossed, Ria tapped her fingers on the ground. “Or used as storage for treasure.” When Lance looked back at her, she shrugged. “We still have to consider the coin you guys found, not to mention the Roman numerals on the altar.”

  “Roman numerals?”

  As she explained, Lance’s brows shot higher on his face. “Oh man. That kind of information could only be brought from overseas.”

  Ria nodded. “Say like from a French pirate several hundred years ago. Someone with a reputation for being smart, stealthy and plundering ships that consisted of all kinds of goods. Didn’t matter what was on them. He absconded with it all. He was a risk taker, and half the fun was taking that risk.” That idea popped out of her mouth, echoing her earlier sentiment about herself. It wasn’t necessarily the treasure that was the reward, but the hunting it down.

  “I want to check out that rock garden clearing.” Ria decided, standing and brushing off her clothes, not that it did much good. “You have the map?”

  The map consisted of an accurate drawing done by Gwen that showed the various trails and clearings in the reserve. Lance pulled it from shirt pocket and handed it over. “You don’t think another meteor caused that one, do you?”

  There was a hint of censure in his question and Ria shook her head. “No, but I still want to check it out.” As she studied the map, she felt a tingle on the back of her neck. Much like she felt that first night when the group had arrived.

  She scanned the trees, and saw nothing. “There’s camera’s all over, right?”

  Lance smirked. “Yeah. Anyone watching saw you rolling around on the ground like an ecstatic dog.”

  Ria shot him a dark look. “Not amusing.”

  “I think it’s hilarious.” When she only continued to glower, he manfully swallowed his mirth. “A couple here, another dozen or so scattered around the reserve. Why?”

  “Just curious.” She headed toward the trail that would lead her to the rock garden. “I’ll be back in bit.”

  “Don’t you think I should go with you?”

  “I’d rather you work more on the altar. I want to see if all of the pictographs have a Roman numeral allotted to them.”

  “Sure, but – “ His phone rang again, this time when he saw who was calling, he let out a sound of interest. “It’s Arturo. I sent him a picture of the coin yesterday. Asked if he’d ever come across one before.” As she’d done as well. They might work together, but their professional contacts weren’t necessarily the same. Widening the net was the best way to catch any fish.

  “Get it. I’ll be fine.” She waved off his uncertainty. “Probably be back before you’re finished gabbing.”

  Though he still didn’t appear pleased, Lance answered the phone and Ria made her way to the trail. When she was certain Lance could no longer see her, she increased her sped to a supernatural pace, reaching the other clearing in less than a minute.

  She understood now why it was called a rock garden. Several huge boulders were grouped together off at one side of the clearing, creating a rocky arrangement close to forty feet long, and, as she circled the formation, about fifteen feet wide in some areas. Using the smaller ones that surrounded the massive boulders as steps, she climbed her way to the top.

  Several of the boulders were nearly flat, almost inviting so. She had dressed for the cooler confines of the ruin, but had ditched the long-sleeved shirt at some point when she’d become too warm.

  That had become a problem lately. Too warm. One of the reasons she’d bolted from her room last night.

  Don’t think about it.

  Because thinking about what had happened between her and Santos last night only increased that warmth. Into an inferno. Her pulse accelerated, her belly twisted, and she grew achy in places he’d touched too damn intimately. Dampness quickened between her legs.

  Shit. I’m thinking about it.

  She plopped down on her butt, stretched out her legs and gazed over the clearing. After several silent minutes of concentration, she realized what she saw was exactly what it appeared. A clearing in a forest. One that happened to have a collection of huge rocks.

  Sighing, she laid back and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Even if she’d figured out part of the puzzle that was the ruin, there was still so much more to wade through.

  The rock was warm from the sun, and as it seeped into her back, her front soaked up the last of the overhead rays. Birds chirped happy songs all around her while ground animals scurried and played on the forest floor.

  She didn’t know she’d fallen asleep until her eyes suddenly flew open. Not long, she estimated, based on the sun’s location in the sky, but not smart either. Exposing herself like this would only use up the blood she’d taken yesterday at a faster rate. Even if that wasn’t an issue, she should get back to Lance and find out what his contact said about the coin.

  Before she could rise, a sense of power filled the air, making the tiny hairs on her body stand on end. Motionless, she reached out with her senses. The birds’ noisy chatter had decreased to an occasional twitter. The sounds of rabbits and squirrels scattering about now gone. She breathed in deep, and smelled something wild, musky and powerful.

  Cautiously, she turned her head to her right, and saw him watching her with gleaming, predatory eyes. The heart that had maintained a steady rhythm skipped a beat.

  Santos. Only it wasn’t the Santos she was familiar with.

  Slowly, she lifted herself into a sitting position, her eyes never parting from the unblinking greenish-yellow ones of the huge jaguar that lay at the edge of the clearing.

  It rose on its haunches, as if mirroring her action. Ria swallowed, her mouth drier than dirt. She might have known Santos was a jaguar shifter, but actually seeing him thus with her own eyes was another thing altogether. He was, undoubtedly, a magnificent animal. Strength and energy radiated from his silent frame, reminding her of how she’d felt when she’d seen him last night. And though he was on four legs instead of two, with the setting sun shimmering over vibrant orange, yellow and midnight black rosettes that covered him rather than clothing, she still thought he was gorgeous. Breathtaking.

  “Beautiful.” The word slid unbidden past her stunned lips.

  The cat lowered its head and let out a sub vocal growl that stretched its mouth wide open, showcasing the glistening fangs and razor-sharp teeth. Her heart skyrocketed to the back of her throat. While she thought this creature was Santos, she couldn’t be positive. And even if it was, did he remember who she was in his animal form?

  The deadly predator stood, head low and acutely observant of her every move, and stalked toward her, its tailing swishing wildly. As it came closer, she understood she was screwed. No way could she outrun it, and climbing a tree to safety was a ridiculous option, so she held absolutely still.

  Until it vaulted onto the rock directly in front of her. She couldn’t stop the involuntary squawk that passed her lips, or the hunching of her shoulders as she tried to make herself as little as possible. The cat began to prowl around her. With her head up, she kept him in her vision as much as possible. When he passed behind her, he rubbed his great length along her back. The press of his heat, all those powerful muscles over her much smaller frame was terrifying.

  It was exhilarating.

  When he did it again, she understood. He was marking her.

  “You better not pee on me,” she muttered unhappily.

  It let out a strange coughing sound, flashing his pearly whites right next to her ear as his mouth stretch unbelievably wide. She had no doubt he could crush her head int
o so much pulp before she ever saw it happen. She winced at the grisly image. “Or bite me. That really wouldn’t be nice.” Her voice was barely audible.

  Then the jaguar did something unexpected, and no less frightening. It was tall enough that, with it standing and her sitting, it could easily set its chin on the top of her head.

  Was that supposed to be reassuring? Or a position of dominance? Danger?

  Never from me.

  Her eyes darted from side to side as Santos’s words from last night came to mind. His claim she would never suffer any danger from him.

  Blowing out a bolstering breath of air, she stated as calm as she could, “I’m going to raise my hand, and touch you. Okay?”

  His head moved, slid down her cheek to rest on her shoulder. She lifted her hand very slowly and touched the outside of his face, instinctively scratching the soft pelt that lay under her hand. He began to purr.

  “Okay. This is okay. I can handle this.”

  That head turned and then a huge, wet tongue came out and licked her from temple to chin. She grimaced. “That’s not okay.”

  Suddenly the cat pulled away, shifting to growl low in its throat in the direction of the trail she’d come from. With a gleaming look at her, it leapt off the rock and disappeared in the forest.

  She was staring after it in bemusement when Lance’s voice called out. “Hey. What’ya doing up there?”

  Using the bottom of her t-shirt to dry the cat slobber from her face, she stood on unsteady feet. “Just looking around. Your friend have anything of interest to say?”

  “Yeah. Get this. Some homeless guy goes into the museum in Panama with one of the coins, looking to sell it. After some checking and analyzing, in which they sent Arturo several photos, they figured it was a fake. Told the guy it was only worth the bronze it was made of.”

  “Don’t suppose they got the guy’s name, or where he got the coin from.” She asked as she picked her way off the boulders.

 

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