Fear rocked his body without mercy. Danger made his blood turn icy, his skin prickle with chills and his heart pound. He didn’t understand how he knew it, but Keira must be in horrible danger. He felt it like a sickness deep in his gut.
As he rounded an outcropping he could see across a grass-grown sunken area. A granite city turned golden by morning sunlight, wrapped in the vines of age, a testimony to a mysterious people’s hard work and long vanished history. From here he couldn’t be certain, but it looked like mortarless stone masonry, with most of the buildings reaching twenty to forty feet high. The city looked vast, but he couldn’t be certain of exact size with rainforest covering a good portion of the area. For a breathless second awe struck him down and refused to let him move. Low city walls crawled along the ground, as if they didn’t need to defend themselves against an enemy.
The earth shifted under him and he grunted as the world swayed and rocked. It stopped almost as fast as it began. Yet the magnificent stonework in front of him looked undamaged by human occupancy, war, or natural disaster. How many earthquakes in eons of time had rocked this place?
Jerked out of his admiration for the structures, he remembered how much Keira needed him.
And there, with perfect timing, he saw several figures making their way across the grass-strewn tangle covering a sunken plaza. One of the figures was being carried in El Jaguar’s arms. The body looked delicate. Feminine. And unconscious.
Oh, Jesus. “Keira.” He wanted to cry out to her, yet he bit back the impulse. Hurry, hurry, hurry. “Hang on, Keira.”
Aware the anxiety in his voice matched the ache in his heart, he worked his way through the vegetation and down the steep hillside. Zane almost expected El Jaguar and his men to hear his pursuit and turn to face his attack. Instead they continued their frantic pace toward the city.
Run, run, run. His feet picked up speed. Running with the backpack and the injury sent waves of heat and sickness into his battered body but he disregarded the misery. Fury steamed his blood along with fear and kept him moving.
He followed at a discreet distance as the men hurried toward the apex of a large building in the center of scarred, scattered ruins. The great basalt and sandstone pyramid resembled, in a superficial way, some designs he’d seen in Tiahuanaco in Bolivia. He estimated the size around a two-hundred-fifty-foot square and almost forty-foot high. In this case the pyramid appeared to have been built right into the side of the plateau.
The men ran into the pyramid and disappeared. He dropped his backpack outside on the ground and followed, plunging into the slender entrance and following the glow from bobbing flashlights. As they meandered deeper into the primitive structure, he didn’t dare turn on his flashlight and alert them of his presence. If he kept back they might not see him until too late.
Growls reached his ears, as if somewhere in this maze wildcats lived.
But no. That wasn’t possible, was it?
Narrow passageways, right angles, and cul-de-sacs riddled the pyramid. When they skirted a corner and stepped into a larger chamber, he peeked around the corner. How much farther did they plan to go?
His answer came when the reached a chamber with a fifteen-foot-high barrel-vault ceiling and two stone altars in the middle. Behind the altars stood a strange statue carved with images of a snarling god with fangs like a big cat, claws on hands and feet. Along the walls a few low-relief carvings survived. Like the circle of stones these images featured women and men in a variety of sexual escapades, along with paintings of people engaged in dancing and playing flute-like instruments. In a blinding instant he remembered a place he’d seen in a Shiva temple in India. He’d seen a holy shrine of garba-griha, literally, the womb house. In the womb house a lingam, or phallic symbol, was encircled by the yoni, or vulva. Lingam and yoni represented the creative energy of the universe. The power of sexual union completed the universe. Perhaps this room proved a similar belief in its long-dead people.
Behind the first altar stood the male and female halves of La Pasion, so close but not quite touching. No one yet attempted to put the stones together.
Shock rippled through Zane as he spotted five jaguars pacing near the altars and the statue in a wide circle. All of the men had disappeared except for El Jaguar. The men couldn’t have passed him and no other passages led out of the room.
Holy shit. They couldn’t be…no, it just couldn’t be.
All signs said El Jaguar’s men had turned into big cats and now guarded the rebel and Keira.
Zane’s blood pumped through his veins at an alarming rate, his heart slamming in his chest as he fought weakness and a terrifying realization of the supernatural staring him in the face. His legs felt shaky, his senses striving for clarity.
El Jaguar placed Keira on the first altar. Her eyes were closed, her face pale and one pant leg torn almost off. A tourniquet was tied below her knee. Worry sculpted the rebel’s face, as if he also feared her death. Not the face of a man bent on sacrifice or harm. A small hope energized Zane.
“Come out now, Zane, and help me with your woman,” the rebel said.
Not surprised the rebel knew he was there, Zane drew his weapon from his holster and stepped from around the corner. He started to walk toward the altar when the five jaguars turned, their vibrating snarls echoing in the room.
El Jaguar waved his hands at the cats and spoke in Spanish. All five jaguars backed away but stayed nearby. Zane half expected to see them pick up discarded automatic weapons in their paws. Instead they watched with fierce eyes. Any wrong moves and they’d tear him apart before he could run or fire his weapon.
“Get away from her,” Zane said, his voice hoarse with anger as he pointed his weapon at El Jaguar.
“No.”
“I said—”
“There’s no time to lose! She’s been bitten by a fer-de-lance. Give me the ring. It is the only way to save her.”
Bone-melting, overwhelming fear plowed through Zane’s psyche. “What?”
El Jaguar paced toward him, his eyes fierce. He put out one hand. “It will save her from the poison. We will put the stones together and the poison will not harm her any longer.”
El Jaguar continued toward him, as if he’d fight tooth and nail for the ring. The jaguars growled again, perhaps sensing the struggle to come. Tempted to fire on the rebel, Zane’s finger twitched on the trigger.
“Stop right there!” A voice rang out, German and harsh. Zane whirled to see Haan standing at entrance with Douglas. Streaked with mud and dirt and evil smiles, their expressions anticipated victory. “Give me the ring and both sides of La Pasion.”
Zane had several choices, but none of them guaranteed survival. Fanaticism etched Haan’s face, his gaze so certain and controlled. The man would do anything to achieve his goal.
“After we cure her. We’ll give it to you after that,” Zane said.
Douglas brought his hand gun up and pointed it straight at Zane. He looked ready to fire any second. Zane kept his own weapon pointed at Haan and his sidekick.
“I don’t think so,” Haan said. “We want that ring and La Pasion now.”
Haan paced toward the altar but the jaguars stopped him, their feline bodies walking toward him and his bodyguard with slinky menace.
“The cats will not allow you close to us and firing upon them will do you no good,” El Jaguar said. “They are not ordinary jaguars and cannot be harmed by bullets.”
Douglas laughed and shot at one of the big cats. The cat didn’t flinch and a plinking sound hit the air as the bullet dropped to the floor in front of the jaguar.
“Shit,” Douglas said, eyes wide. He turned his gun on Zane again as if to fire.
Zane shot back and as the bullet hit the thug in the chest, Douglas went down like a ton of bricks.
Haan bared his teeth in a feral grin. “You think that’s going to stop me?”
Zane returned the asshole’s smile. “Looks like it already has.”
Zane gave the ring to
El Jaguar without another hesitation. Zane had nothing to lose but her, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.
El Jaguar slipped the cabochon ring on her left hand. “Be prepared, Zane. What happened to her grandfather back at the museum all those years ago will probably happen to you.”
Before Zane could say another word, Haan shouted, “It’s mine! Both of those are mine! You can’t take them from me!”
Disgusted and damned tired of the incompetent, lily-white asshole, Zane almost turned and shot him, too. “Watch us.”
Zane put his gun back in his holster and moved around the altar until he stood next to her. His heart ached with pain as he saw her leg, now swollen and obviously pumped full of poison. He leaned down and listened to her breathing as he put one hand over her heart. Swallow breaths parted her lips. He swallowed hard in relief when he felt her heart beating strongly.
“Ah, Jesus,” he whispered. “Honey, I’m sorry I got you into this.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Can you hear me? Please don’t leave me, Keira. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”
Behind him Zane heard El Jaguar take a deep breath. “Hold on tight to her.”
Zane slipped his arms around her upper body and drew her close. Cradling her in his embrace, he drank in the feeling of holding her and prayed like he’d never prayed before. “Please save her.”
“No!” Haan’s agonized voice called out as he started to run from the temple.
Too late.
El Jaguar brought La Pasion together with a click of the stones as the octagon bases linked. In a flash the room turned a blinding white.
El Jaguar’s voice rang out. “Where there is love and life, there can be no death!”
Zane hoped with his next breath that if he died he would awaken to heaven in Keira’s arms.
Chapter Seventeen
Heat and hardness embraced Keira in comfort and security. Peace inside her brought the greatest paradise and warmest love. She tried to remember when she’d last felt this wonderful. Yes. I know. When Zane held me after we made love. She longed for him with a deep, powerful ache. Foggy and disoriented, she didn’t want to wake from the light-as-a-feather feeling. If this is heaven, I’ll stay here.
“Keira, can you hear me?” The deep male voice sounded frayed, almost broken with grief.
Did she imagine it? Zane? She licked her dry lips and tried to speak. “Zane? Is that you?”
A quick inhalation, a heartfelt groan and his lips touched her forehead with total reverence. “Thank you, God. Please open your eyes. Please.”
Energy seeped slowly into her limbs, and she did as requested. Zane cradled her tenderly in his arms and pressed the occasional kiss to her forehead and nose like she might be the most precious commodity in the world. Elation leapt inside her when he smiled, his eyes sparkling with joy. She hoped this beautiful situation didn’t dissolve like a dream.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. What—? How—? Where am I?”
“Easy. You’re in the temple in La Selva Negra city. El Jaguar and his men are here. You’re safe.”
Safe? She shifted, wanting to sit up, and he allowed her. He kept his arm around her shoulders. With a start she remembered the horrible bite wound and looked down at her pant leg. Her leg, other than slightly bloody, showed no sign of the poisonous infection.
“The fer-de-lance,” she said hoarsely.
“El Jaguar put La Pasion together and with the help of the ring, it saved your life.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me how, but I don’t really care. All I care about is you’re okay.”
His voice held the deepest reverence and she cupped his dear face in wonder.
As she perused his handsome countenance, she saw the red stain splattered on his shirt. “Is that blood? You’re hurt.”
“A shoulder wound. Haan’s men shot me.”
“Zane,” she said in alarm, “let me see it.”
He caught her searching hands against his chest. “It’s already healing. When La Pasion came together, it worked for me, too.”
Wanting reassurance, she slid off the altar with his help. “I don’t care. Let me see it.”
That’s when she spied the six jaguars pacing near the entrance to the temple.
One came toward them and she gasped a warning, “Zane, there are jaguars in here.”
Another smile touched his lips, this one unrepentant and a little teasing. “No shit.”
As the cats approached she cringed and his arm went around her again. She watched, stunned, as the jaguars morphed. Their spots stretched as they lengthened, bodies transforming with rapid movements into—El Jaguar and the other five men.
If she’d been the hysterical type, she would have screamed or maybe run. As El Jaguar walked toward her and Zane, his smile sincere and maybe amused, she laughed softly.
“You don’t believe your eyes, eh, chica?” El Jaguar’s grin held mischief and relief.
She shook her head. “So your name is who you are.”
One of the men cleared his throat and spoke in soft, broken English. “We are the descendants of the werejaguars who built La Selva Negra.”
She couldn’t wrap her mind around the paranormal concept. “This is beyond incredible. I can’t believe this truly happened. We both should be dead.”
Zane explained to her what happened when she left Haan’s complex with the rebel and how the ring made him invisible to Haan’s thugs. “If I’d been wearing the ring earlier they probably couldn’t have seen me at all. I wouldn’t have gotten shot.”
She glanced at La Pasion. The figure of the man and woman kissed into eternity and beyond, locked together by love. A radiant glow pulsated from the joined statues, lighting the entire room.
Walking into the glowing circle surrounding La Pasion, the rebel said, “Haan and his other men have escaped. But we will hunt them. The power of the ring and La Pasion will claim them.”
“The power of man and woman together?” she asked.
El Jaguar nodded, his gaze intent on the statues. “Creation of life and all that is sacred is the energy of man and woman together. Haan wanted that power for himself, but even if he’d obtained both statues they would have destroyed him.”
“This is unbelievable,” she breathed in wonder. “Absolutely incredible.”
El Jaguar’s nodded, turning his hand this way and that in the glow. “It is warm. Warm with love.”
A gentle rumbling filled the room and she looked up at the high roof with worry.
“Do not fear the volcano.” El Jaguar turned his back on La Pasion. “The volcano had cooled. Now that La Pasion reclaims the land, there is no imbalance.” He looked toward Zane with critical eyes. “Unless you mean to try and take La Pasion back to the museum.”
She held her breath, nervous for a moment that Zane might insist upon it.
Zane’s arms tightened around her and he kissed her forehead. “La Pasion gave Keira’s life back.” As he looked down on her she saw the love stirring there with a force as powerful as the earth. “It gave back my life. It may cost me my job, but I won’t betray your people or her grandfather. What you have here is more important.”
El Jaguar’s relief showed clearly as he sighed, the burden of ages released. “Thank you. Never fear about your job. We will carve two replicas for you to present to the museum. They will never know the difference.”
Keira frowned. “With carbon dating or other methods they could tell.”
The rebel strode around the statues, his attention sealed to the glowing statue of the lovers. “Trust us. We’ll take care of that.” He clapped his hands. “Men, let us go outside.” He smiled. “You know what I said about the altar? It must be done now, chica. The energy of the lovers will give you strength and the love between you and Zane will complete the circle.”
A little nervous, she said, “Now?”
“Now. We will celebrate in camp tonight!”
The men cheered and filed ou
t behind their leader.
Zane turned toward her, his eyes more tender and warm than she’d ever seen them. “Zane Spinella, you’re incredible.” Tears touched her eyes and she cupped his face. “Did I hear you say you love me?”
Husky with emotion, his words told her all she needed to know. “Yes.” He clasped her wrists and smoothed his fingers over her skin. “Any chance you might feel the same about me?”
She gave a laugh that almost sounded like a sob as tears poured down her face. “Yes. Yes.”
With a sweet tenderness that went all the way to her heart, he smiled. A primitive stirring deep in her loins reminded her of the passion yet to come.
She cleared her throat. “Um… El Jaguar said for this place to be truly energized and sanctified, a couple must make love at this altar. With witnesses.”
His eyebrows went up. “With witnesses?” He dragged her against him, renewed passion in the love-filled darkness of his eyes. “Whatever you want, wife.”
She twined her arms around his neck. “Only you, husband. Only you.”
His mouth took hers, the power of her ardor for this man rocking her to the foundations. Immediately she felt his cock rising hard against her belly, telling her where danger no longer ruled, sex now did. As his tongue slipped inside and tasted with rough, wholly sexual thrusts, leftover adrenaline streaked through her battered system. She burned eagerly in the fires she knew they could create. Energized by the frantic craving, she understood they’d become like the werejaguars, responding to the primordial, the glow of La Pasion as it smoldered behind them.
The circle was complete.
Epilogue
Two weeks later
Chesterham Museum
London, England
Late afternoon closed in on the museum as Keira and Zane left the drizzling rain and stepped into the cavernous building. She walked hand in hand with Zane toward the cubicle where the fake La Pasion resided. Strong emotions sheared her to the bone.
Happiness. Completeness. And not just because the man she loved more than anything on earth walked beside her.
Special Investigations Agency: Primordial Page 30
