Curse of the Painted Lady (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 3)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  The memory of squeezing the Mayan princess’s throat aroused Aja. She could still feel the vibrations of the girl’s screams in her fingertips. She remembered stroking the unconscious girl’s shoulder while she whispered soothing reassurances to her. “It will be over quick. You’ll feel no pain.” Aja had even held the bride’s hand while her chac, her assistant, erased the bride’s memory, just as she had done with Alynioria, and the many other young girls sacrificed over the last ten thousand years.

  Aja savored the idea of a fresh start. Her current body had housed her mind far longer than any she’d previously occupied, thanks to Evelyn’s deceit. Aja was tired of looking at the same face in the mirror and was sickened by how much she’d aged. She longed to be young and vibrant again, and while she wasn’t enamored with the idea of a new body marred by tattoos, it would suffice until she found a more suitable, long-term option.

  Her thoughts were disturbed by the sound of a car pulling up to the villa. She turned her head toward the sound and listened closely, setting down the enjyia and reaching into her dress pockets for the Dreylaeks. A moment later, Kora came sprinting around the side of the villa. Her eyes were full of fear.

  “We can’t wait any longer!” Kora said. “They’ve impounded the plane.”

  “What?”

  “The Mexican police. They’ve taken the plane from the hangar,” Kora said.

  “Calm yourself, child,” Aja said. “They have no idea where we are.”

  “Damn it! Did you hear me? The Americans know we’re in Mexico. We need to call Cully and get this over with,” Kora said, bending over, out of breath.

  Aja lifted the worthless medallion from her chest and squeezed it in her fist. Liars! Thieves! They would pay for their deception! Looking down at the glittering black stone surrounded by gold, Aja thought, I will kill every last one of them! “Very well. Is her body recovered enough to survive?”

  “I think so,” Kora said. She reached down and gently placed a hand on Aja’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we didn’t get Omereau.”

  “There is still hope. Once we are in new bodies, we can continue the search. At least we have a better sense of where to look,” Aja said, patting Kora’s hand. “Go get my phone.”

  “Yes, my Queen,” Kora said. She bowed and entered the villa through the veranda door.

  Aja finished the last of the enjyia and stared out at the lagoon. “Soon, sweet sister, we will meet again, and this time you will have no choice but to tell me what I want to know.”

  Chetumal, Mexico

  The hotel staff hustled into the conference room with a fresh urn of coffee. As they set it up, Anlon yawned and stared blankly at the group of American and Mexican police officers gathered at the far end of the room. Jennifer and Antonio stood with them.

  Katie walked up from behind and handed Anlon a fresh cup of coffee. “Here you go. Two creams, three sugars. Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? You didn’t have breakfast or lunch.”

  “No, but thanks,” Anlon said, looking down at his cell phone. “Have you seen Mereau?”

  “Not since we arrived. Do you want me to call his room?”

  “Nah, let him sleep,” Anlon said in between sips of coffee. He understood Mereau had not responded well to his first airplane flight. Looking up at Antonio’s energetic assistant, Anlon asked, “How are you holding up? You’ve been going nonstop for two days.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m used to this kind of pace,” she said. “You should see what it’s like the last few days before Dr. Wallace buys or sells a company.”

  He smiled at Katie with admiration. Not a hair out of place, not a hint of bloodshot eyes. Not a wrinkle on her dress. How does she do it? Anlon wondered. He was just about to ask her for her secret when his phone began to buzz. His eyes darted down to the screen. Unknown caller.

  His heart began to pound as he picked up the phone. Before answering, he said to Katie, “It’s her. Go let them know.”

  Katie turned and scampered toward the police as Anlon took a deep breath and pressed the answer-call icon.

  “Anlon Cully,” he said, looking up at the rush of people heading toward him.

  “I understand you are in Mexico,” Aja said.

  “I’m not sure how you know that, but, yes,” Anlon said.

  “You have Malinyah with you?”

  “I do,” Anlon said. “I also have Omereau.”

  “You what?”

  “We found his Sinethal.”

  There was a long pause. Anlon’s heart thudded so hard, he could feel it in his tongue. He reached for the coffee cup and took a quick sip. When Muran spoke again, her voice was tinged with skepticism. “Where did you find it?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Anlon replied.

  “Tell me.”

  “Put Pebbles on the phone,” Anlon said.

  Another pause. Anlon heard a muffled conversation in the background. He put the phone on speaker and laid it on the table as the group of twenty around him leaned in to listen. The muffled conversation ended abruptly. At first, Anlon thought Muran had terminated the call, but the call timer on his phone screen showed the call was still active. A moment later, a voice said, “Hello? Anlon?”

  Anlon had never heard a sweeter sound. The rush of emotion was so intense, he couldn’t speak.

  “Anlon? Are you there?” Pebbles asked.

  “Thank God,” he whispered under his breath. “Yes, it’s me, Pebbles. Are you okay?”

  The sound of sniffling came through the phone. Pebbles’ voice cracked as she replied. “Hanging in there, I guess. You coming to rescue me?”

  “I am. Count on it,” he said, his own voice wavering. He looked up at Jennifer, who was wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Good answer,” Pebbles said.

  Muran returned to the line. “Now, where did you find Omereau?”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you,” Anlon said. “Name the place and time.”

  “The police are with you, no doubt?”

  “Yeah. More than I can count. Say hello to The Betrayer, fellas,” Anlon said, his anger rising.

  None of the officers said anything. Agent Li’s face wore a “what the f— are you doing?” expression. Anlon didn’t care. He was exhausted and fed up with Muran’s air of superiority.

  “Careful, Dr. Cully,” Muran warned.

  Just then, Anlon looked up to see Katie push through the crowd of officers. With her was Mereau. Anlon leaned his elbows on the table and massaged his temples. “Where and when, Muran?”

  “If I sense a solitary policeman, helicopter or anything hostile, I will kill her. Do you understand me? You are to come alone.”

  “Where? When?”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Chetumal. Downtown, near the airport,” Anlon said.

  “Good. Arrange for helicopter transport. I will call you later this evening with a time and place.”

  Laguna Milagros, Mexico

  The candles flickered when Aja opened the villa door. Kora bowed and entered. Aja acknowledged her greeting and then motioned for Kora to follow her into the darkness. With the candleholder clutched in her hand, Aja walked slowly down a set of steps leading to the villa’s sunken living room. When she reached the center of the room, Aja placed the candleholder on the table and turned back to face Kora.

  The two women stood silently, bathed in the glow of candlelight. Aja reached out with both hands. Kora entwined her fingers around Aja’s and smiled. Both wore white tunics trimmed in crimson and gold. The gold glittered with each flicker from the candles.

  “We have waited so long for this moment,” Aja said. “Are you ready, my child?”

  Kora lightly squeezed Aja’s hands. “Yes, my Queen. The Tyls are outside the hut.”

  “Good. I will enter first. You will wait outside until I call for you,” Aja said, releasing Kora’s hands.

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Aja gently stroked the black strands of Kor
a’s hair, then caressed her cheek. Kora smiled and turned her face to kiss Aja’s hand.

  “It is time,” Aja said. She lifted the candleholder and presented it to Kora. The two women slowly walked to the glass doors leading to the veranda, Aja following two steps behind Kora. They wound their way around the villa and headed for the small hut. The air was full of the buzz and chirps of nocturnal insects nesting around the lagoon and in the surrounding jungle.

  The hut was completely dark. As they drew closer, Aja noticed the bulky shape of the Taellin resting on the concrete landing. When the candlelight reached the landing, she saw the cone-shaped Tuliskaera and the other Tyls laid out next to the Taellin. A flash of memories passed through Aja’s mind. She saw the terrified faces of her previous victims, pleading with bulged eyes, as Aja approached the altar.

  Her body began to tingle and her face flushed as she relived the erotic ritual. She licked her lips, recalling the salty taste of the tears running down their cheeks. Her hands trembled, remembering the feel of their quivering nubile bodies. Her loins prickled and she uttered a soft moan as she recalled slithering her hands around their necks.

  When they reached the hut steps, Kora handed the candleholder to Aja and kissed her on the cheek. Aja was unaware of the gesture, her eyes glued to the hut door. The chatter of insects faded away as she mounted the steps, until only the sounds of her labored breathing and thumping heart penetrated her mind.

  Kora sat on the steps and clutched the Tuliskaera in her hands. She closed her eyes and listened for the onset of the struggle through the hut’s open door. She heard the creak of the bed and the tearing of fabric. Then came the muffled protests and Aja’s coos.

  As the creaking of the bed turned violent, Kora stroked the Tuliskaera, her fingers tracing the outline of the snake. Screams from beneath the muzzle barely rose above the din of insects. Then came the coughing and the scrape of the shaking bedposts. When the thrashing ceased, a throaty moan echoed from within the hut. Kora tensed her hands on the Stone and clamped her knees together.

  For several minutes, no sounds emanated from the hut. Then Kora heard the bed creak once, followed shortly afterward by footsteps on the concrete landing. A burning hot hand touched her bare shoulder. A weak voice said, “Bring the Tyls.”

  Chetumal, Mexico

  The hotel dining room officially closed at 10 p.m., but Katie had persuaded the hostess and chef to keep the kitchen open for a late dinner for Anlon, Jennifer, Mereau and Agent Li. Antonio, Katie and Henri had been invited, too, but they declined. Antonio had said he had business matters to attend, which necessitated Katie’s assistance. Henri indicated a desire for a nap, saying he was weary from the day’s events.

  Though the meal had been enjoyable, the long wait for Muran’s follow-up call had created a tense mood among the group, or at least it seemed that way to Jennifer.

  She found it a stark contrast to the elation everyone had experienced upon hearing Pebbles’ voice during the earlier call with Muran. For Jennifer, the brief conversation between Anlon and Pebbles had renewed her hope that they would find a way to get Pebbles back. But the shine had lasted only an hour or so. As the reality of the situation settled in again, so had the anxiety.

  It reminded Jennifer of the antsy feeling she would get as a detective during a sting operation, waiting for the go-ahead to rush in and apprehend the criminals. In those situations, every second seemed to drag on as they waited for the bad guys to incriminate themselves, and the longer the limbo persisted, the more intense the desire to dash in and collar the suspects.

  Mereau had seemed the most relaxed of the group, and Jennifer admired the several attempts he had made to lift everyone’s spirits. The meal had been his first taste of food since assuming Foucault’s body, and he’d savored samples from each person’s plate. He had been most pleased to discover fish on the menu, and even more delighted when the Chilean sea bass had been placed in front of him. The Munuorians had called the fish by another name, he had told them, but its flavor and consistency were strikingly similar.

  Anlon had barely looked up from his plate throughout the dinner, and even now he seemed distant. Jennifer didn’t think he was depressed or deflated, just grim. She imagined it was the look of many a soldier about to charge an enemy line. Mereau had leaned over on several occasions to whisper to Anlon, a glint in his eye and confidence in his voice. It was the same confidence Mereau had exuded when he pulled Jennifer aside to describe his plan D.

  Jennifer had seriously considered it. Mereau had asked for her permission to transfer her mind into his Sinethal so Malinyah could take on Jennifer’s body. Mereau believed that, together with Malinyah, they could defeat any curve Muran threw at them. For Mereau had been clear: Muran would play for keeps. Jennifer hadn’t interpreted his comments as defeatist. She viewed them as the observations of a realist. In this way, Jennifer considered Mereau a man who sought to achieve victory while minimizing their losses. And there would be losses, he’d been clear about that, too.

  If the exchange went smoothly and they handed over Malinyah’s Sinethal, he had said, it spelled the end for Malinyah. If Muran attacked before the exchange, Anlon, Pebbles or both might be caught in the crossfire between Mereau and The Betrayer, and Mereau himself might be cut down. If they managed to injure or incapacitate Muran, Mereau had said he fully expected the female confederate spotted at Needles to be waiting in the wings. With all their attention devoted to Muran, Mereau was convinced the confederate would take out at least one of them. If a full-scale melee ensued and the police descended on the scene, there would be even more carnage, he had cautioned.

  Though Jennifer hadn’t sought Anlon’s permission to acquiesce to Mereau’s request, she’d approached him for his opinion. Anlon’s reaction had been more parochial than Jennifer had expected, but, afterward, during the flight to Chetumal, he had explained himself. “While I understand the value of a second, skilled Munuorian to face Muran, I worry whether Malinyah could confront Muran without her desire for revenge taking over. If she can’t control her emotions, she might do something reckless and you’d risk an eternity inside a stone.”

  Anlon’s view had been hard to argue against, and as Jennifer had thought about it more, she’d come to the realization that if she was going to die during the confrontation, she would rather do it on her feet than inside a stone. Mereau had taken the rejection in stride. He had smiled at Jennifer and said, “Then we will fight side by side. Muran will stand no chance!”

  The sound of a phone buzzing cut short Jennifer’s thoughts. She turned to see Anlon grab his phone and answer it. His face scrunched into a frown. “Who is this?”

  The group watched Anlon intently. “I want to speak to Muran. Put her on the phone.”

  “God damn it! What do you mean she’s not available?”

  He bent over with the phone pressed to his ear, his free hand cupped across his forehead. “All right, all right. Just give me the location then.”

  Looking up, he clicked his fingers and mouthed a request for a pen. Agent Li had one out already and handed it to him. Anlon scribbled numbers on the tablecloth and requested the caller to repeat the numbers. He used the pen to touch each of the numbers and then asked, “What time?”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. After a pause, he angrily spat, “I’ll bring the f—ing things, don’t you worry about that. You tell Muran to do her part, I’ll do mine.”

  When the call ended, Anlon slammed his fist on the table, tipping over glasses and knocking silverware to the floor. Agent Li stood and examined the numbers. “Longitude and latitude?”

  “Yes,” Anlon said. “That’s all she said.”

  While Li rapidly tapped on her cell phone screen, Jennifer asked, “It wasn’t Muran?”

  “No. Apparently, Muran was ‘unavailable to speak with me.’ Bullshit,” Anlon groused.

  “It’s a place called Calakmul. Looks like it’s in the middle of a rainforest,” Li said. “What time is the exchange?”


  “Calakmul?” Anlon asked. “That sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard of it before.”

  “Great,” Li said. “What time, Dr. Cully?”

  “Midnight,” Anlon said.

  “Shit! App says it’s over two hundred kilometers from here,” Li said. “The only way to get there in time is by air. Damn, she’s smart. If more than one copter comes in, she’ll know it. If more than one person steps off, she’ll know that, too.”

  Anlon slammed his fist on the table again. Mereau raised his hands and encouraged him to calm down. “Please, Anlon. You are playing into her hands. Muran’s intent is to unsettle you. Don’t fall for her ploy. Come, let us first learn more about this Calakmul and plan our strategy.”

  “But we need to move now, or we won’t get there by midnight,” Li said.

  Mereau waved his hand dismissively. “She has waited ten thousand years for this moment, she will wait for us.”

  The conference room buzzed with conversation. Mereau stood at the map of the Yucatan Peninsula, focusing on the solitary road leading from Chetumal to the access road to reach the Calakmul ruins. Next to the map were pictures of the various structures at the site. Most were covered by vines or obscured by the canopy of the surrounding jungle. When he asked how long it would take to reach the ruins by automobile, he was told four hours. By helicopter, the distance could be covered in just under an hour, Henri informed Mereau.

  Mereau asked if there were other forces in the area. The officer pointed to the modern town carrying the same name as the ancient Mayan site and another town near the entry to the access road. Both were a considerable distance from the jungle-bound ruins.