“Ask anyone if you need something.” Sam headed for the door. “Dr. Reyes is on site, as well as Madelyn, and they have full authority to get you access to anything you need.”
Yes, but who was Dad trying to warn me about? Them, or you, Sam?
Efraín silently watched her shuffling through her father’s papers until her bag bulged at the seams. With an awkward smile, she walked with him down the hallway and outside.
The night air was rich and verdant but not heavy with the humidity that she’d dreaded. It wasn’t any warmer than a pleasant spring night in Texas, yet Jaid felt indescribably different. The night was loud with the buzz of insects, but here it sounded like music instead of the edge of madness. Maybe it was the wide open sky that kept her panic at bay. The sight of stars instead of thick, soaring vegetation promised freedom instead of endless miles of impenetrable jungle.
Cocking his head slightly, Efraín paused to enjoy the view of Lake Atitlan shimmering beneath the night sky. “Have you heard the legends of this particular site yet?”
“No, but I’d love to.”
“Many generations ago when the Maya were still powerful and as numerous as the stars, twin brothers lived here as king and priest to the Tz’utijils on Lake Atitlan. Their city was powerful and all tribes respected them. Their magic was fearful indeed, their king wise, their temples tall like the volcanoes, until all people believed their city truly was the navel of the world.”
Efraín was a natural storyteller; his smooth voice was rich with inflection and emotion until she could almost see the once great city.
“The priest was said to speak often to the gods and could transform into a jaguar.”
Every muscle in her body tightened, but she tried not to betray her alertness. Was he trying to threaten her? Or confirm the thing she’d seen on the digital recording?
“Despite their power, though, these brothers were cursed. There are as many rumors as stars in the sky, but all agree that they used magic in a way that was forbidden. As a result, their grand city was wiped from the face of the earth by the gods’ fury. The people whisper that if this terrifying magic is ever discovered once more that the entire world will be destroyed.”
He turned his head toward her and she sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity in his dark eyes as he whispered, “I saw a jaguar on the grounds last night.”
She swallowed hard but didn’t look away. She tried to imagine him shirtless, his face shadowed, and a jaguar crawling out of his body, but she couldn’t. He was shorter than the man she’d seen in the digital recording and not nearly as muscular. Dr. Reyes was a scholar, not a Maya warrior.
Her thoughts raced so fast her face and eyes felt too hot, her skin tight across her cheekbones. Stories and fables collided with the recording of her father’s ritual. If she hadn’t seen the Maya warrior transform into a jaguar with her own eyes, she’d never believe such a thing possible. As crazy as it sounded, she was pretty sure she’d seen Efraín’s cursed priest.
How much did Reyes know? She didn’t dare ask him outright. He’d either have her committed for thinking that a legend had come back to life after a thousand years, or worse, he might actually believe her. If he thought he could steal that magic for himself, he’d silence her before she could find her father. For all she knew, Efraín could have had a hand in his disappearance.
“Nice fairytale, Dr. Reyes, but I grew up on stories of the Lords of Xibalba. If you really want to scare me, threaten me with a treatise claiming that Atlantis is the original Tulan Zuyua.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Do be careful, Dr. Merritt. We can’t afford to lose you, too.”
He inclined his head politely and took the left-hand path in the opposite direction. Shaking her head, Jaid scrubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. She felt the lump of her BlackBerry phone and groaned. She still hadn’t texted Callie. If Jaid knew her best friend, she’d have the Marines looking for her within the hour if she didn’t check in.
She took out the phone and quickly sent a brief message.
Guat strange but ok. Dad still gone. Met his gf.
She smiled. That last bit would have Callie screaming with glee and pacing frantically until she got all the juicy details.
Jaid slipped the phone back into her pocket and took the right-hand path toward her cabana. The carryall was heavy with her laptop, books, and her father’s notes. Her eyes were gritty, and her nerves jangled and shrilled, painfully on edge.
She’d get a few hours of sleep and then compile both sets of notes into something more manageable. Right now, nothing sounded better than a long hot bath and—
Her scalp tingled and burned down the nape of her neck as though she’d fallen into a fire ant nest. Slowing her pace, she glanced about warily. The white crushed-stone path gleamed, surrounded by well-lit gardens and perfect lawns that would do a golf course proud. No one approached, and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed no one had followed her from the compound.
Yet the feeling of unease worsened, like boulders being stacked on her chest until it was difficult to breathe. Goose bumps raced down her arms. Shivering, she quickened her step to the hut, wincing at the strain in her knee.
A large dark shadow moved beneath the palm trees lining the ten-foot tall fence. Low to the ground, the shape inched closer, slinking just outside the glowing nimbus lighting the path.
Jaid stumbled to a halt and her heartbeat ramped into high gear. She knew the shadow was a combination of jetlag and long hours of strain and worry, but her body insisted on flight. Muscles aching with the need to run, she was afraid to look away for fear it would either disappear or attack. How far to her cabana? If she could get inside and call for help…against what? A shadow?
Clutching the leather strap of her bag so tightly her hand cramped, she lifted her chin and strode confidently down the path. She kept her gaze straight ahead, but watched out of the corner of her eye. Something was definitely there. Her pulse skittered with panic, but she forced her legs to keep a calm, deliberate pace.
I saw a jaguar on the grounds last night.
Only an animal, or a cursed priest who could shapeshift into a jaguar? Had it killed her father? Or had he managed to make it to the lake, only to drown in the bottomless waters?
Involuntarily, her gaze strayed back to stare fully at the shadow.
Golden eyes caught the light, gleaming eerily in the murk.
Crouched to spring, the jaguar was massive, much larger than any puma she’d ever seen in a zoo. A low, rumbling growl made her heart stutter and then leap into a frantic loud beat that thundered in her ears. The sounds in the recording had utterly failed to capture the very real threat rattling in the beast’s throat.
Instinct screamed at her to run.
She knew she’d never make it, but she tore her gaze away from the beast and ran for her hut. Skin tight and braced for rending claws, she didn’t register that a man stood in front of her until she ran into him.
“Thank God!” Raggedly, she hauled in air and glanced behind her. The jaguar had indeed followed, but now it crouched again, ears tight to its head, vicious teeth bared in a snarl. “Call for security!”
Ignoring the angry jaguar, the man grabbed the strap of her bag and yanked so hard she stumbled. Her shoulder felt jerked out of its socket. She hugged the bag tighter to her and jerked her attention to his face.
A large black circle had been tattooed on his forehead, marked as the rising sun. His ears and nose were heavily pierced with bits of bone and jade.
Geoffrey’s murderer.
With a hoarse yell, she swung her fist at his head, letting her body turn with the punch to protect the bag clutched against her chest. How had he followed her from Texas? The man wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
He raised the vicious black knife that had killed her boyfriend. Her blood froze in her veins, numbing her fingers. A strangled cry choked in her throat.
The jag
uar screamed, deathly shrill like jagged glass slicing her eardrums. The murderer let go of her and laughed. Eyes wild, he shouted something she couldn’t understand, and then grabbed her throat, trying to use her as a shield. Or maybe a bargaining chip? Why would a jaguar care, especially if it had succeeded in slaughtering her father?
In a single bound, the big cat closed a dozen paces to land silently just inches away. She could smell its sharp, feral scent and feel the moist heat of its breath on her bare arms. The black rosettes on its fur were visible even in the night, its golden eyes huge and glowing like twin suns, fangs glistening like white knives.
She slammed her elbow up and back into the man’s ribs as hard as she could, tore free of his punishing grip, and staggered toward her hut. Which would she feel first, the rending claws or the knife?
Stumbling inside, Jaid locked the door and then crouched before the window to watch the battle play out.
A jaguar against a man without a high-powered rifle shouldn’t have been much of a contest. Yet the man was fearless and maintained a steady barrage of harsh words. Despite the language barrier, there was no mistaking the furious twist to his mouth or the venom in his voice. The jaguar lunged for his throat and tried to eviscerate him with those gleaming claws, but the man was just as deadly with his knife.
Jaid swallowed the bile down and forced herself to watch. Automatically, she began cataloguing details: the foot-long blade, the sound of it ringing on the jaguar’s teeth when the big cat tried to yank it from the man’s hand, the gleam of light along its length.
That knife was stone, not metal. From its color and refraction, it must have been obsidian.
No jaguar in captivity or a Hollywood construct had ever reached the size and majesty of this beast. The jaguar reared up on its hind legs and it was just as tall as the man. It swiped at the man’s head with a plate-sized paw, and he took the opening to slice the knife across the jaguar’s belly.
With a choking growl, the big cat fell, tried to get up, and collapsed.
The man jerked around, searching for her. Jaid ducked down, praying someone would come and chase him off. He’d downed a massive jaguar. What hope did she have against him? Surely with all the growls and yells, someone must have heard. The jaguar’s screams had rattled the windows. Why hadn’t Sam’s tight security come to investigate?
Gripping that vicious, bloody knife in his hand, the man strode toward the hut.
Frantic, she glanced about the small cottage, looking for a weapon or a place to hide. In the darkness, she made out vague furniture shapes. A small kitchen. Maybe she could find a knife?
Shallow and rapid, her breath sobbed out, her mind racing in helpless circles. She stifled a desperate cry. What hope did she have against a murderer obviously skilled with a blade, when she nicked her finger trying to cut a steak? Peeking out the window, her heart plummeted. He was less than ten feet away. She shoved the carryall under the nearest shadowed furniture, probably a loveseat.
She risked another peek and stared. Hope made her chest ache.
The jaguar rose up behind the man like a silent shadow. It leaped on his back. They tumbled and roared, slashing at each other, one with all four paws and the other plunging the knife over and over into his opponent’s side. The man flipped the snarling jaguar over his head. Twisting in midair, the big cat crashed into a tree, slid to the ground, and lay still.
The man slowly turned, his flat eyes as dead as the jaguar. He stared right at her and his lips curled in a grim smile.
Throat burning with acid, she swallowed hard and clutched the windowsill so tightly her fingers cramped.
Finally, one of the guards trotted up the path from the main compound with a rifle in his hand. “Take another step and I’ll blow your head off!”
The intruder pointed the knife at her with that cruel smile still curving his lips. Then he whirled and raced for the fence with the guard on his heels.
Heart pounding, Jaid rested her head against the glass and just breathed. Whew, that was close. If the jaguar hadn’t popped back up—
She jerked her head up and studied the shadows beneath the tree where the jaguar had collapsed. It had stalked her tonight—until the other man attacked. Had it protected her? Would it kill her now? If it were a normal beast, it was surely dead. If it had been the same man who she’d seen transform in the recording—the legendary shapeshifting priest—then he might be the only person who knew what had happened to her father.
She watched the jaguar for several long moments, and it never moved. Leaving the bag in its hiding place, she crept out of the hut and edged closer. Straining her eyes, she tried to tell if it was still breathing. As she neared, the wild musk and metallic tang of blood filled her nose.
A firefly sparked over the animal. More twinkles hovered and swarmed, lighting its furred sides, the rips in its skin, the dark spots of blood on the leaves and ground. The lights engulfed the animal in liquid gold, flashing in a dizzying kaleidoscope.
The jaguar moved.
She jerked a step back, but it didn’t roar to life and attack. Actually, it didn’t move, not exactly. It was changing shape. Before her stunned gaze, the front paws melted into hands. Sleek black fur burned away.
The digital recording had only hinted at the incredibly bizarre and wondrous transformation. Without her father’s evidence, she might have convinced herself that she was suffering from shock, that the transformation of a jaguar into a man was simply…
The man groaned.
He was big, as large as the jaguar had been. Sooty spots still dotted his face, arms and chest, along with tattoos in swirling complicated circles down his neck and shoulders. His naked chest and flanks were wounded. His abdomen was torn open, his arms slashed. Yet he groaned again.
Voices carried on the night air. More guards were coming. The wounded man still lay on the ground, bleeding, yet now his chest rose steadily. What would the guards do to him?
She knelt beside him. “Can you understand me?”
Moaning in pain, he turned his head. His eyes flashed golden like the jaguar’s. He pushed upright, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Get me out of here before the guards come back.”
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?”
“I can tell you about the Gate.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I’m the Gatekeeper.” The man sighed. “I know everything.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Staggering beneath the big man’s weight, Jaid helped him into her hut, muttering beneath her breath all the while. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Grading wasn’t that bad, not really. I love teaching. It sure beats bloody werejaguars, obsidian blades, and ancient Maya warriors on which real guns don’t seem to work. If you try to hurt me, I’ll beat you over the head with a book and scream until the guard shoots you and drags your carcass away.”
The man slid to the floor on a low painful hiss but his voice was amused. “If you knew anything about these ‘guards,’ you would know you could definitely trust me more than them. I won’t hurt you, lady.”
“You were a jaguar.” She’d seen it with her own eyes, not once but twice, but she couldn’t help the questioning tone to her voice.
“Yes.”
“You were going to hurt me until that other man grabbed me.”
“No.” The man’s face locked down, his lips compressed and tight. “I was going to kill you.”
“Then how can I trust you now?” Involuntarily, she tensed for flight. She could hear the guards’ heavy boots treading up the path. One call, one word, and they’d rush in here and dispose of this threat. “Did you kill my father?”
He didn’t move, but his face was colder despite his golden eyes, as hard as chiseled granite. “No, but you both tamper with something you cannot possibly understand.”
“Where is he?”
The guard called, “Dr. Merritt? Are you okay?”
She’d expected an acce
nt, but not an unmistakable southern drawl. Exactly who did these guards work for? Putting on her best hardass teacher face, she leaned down and locked her gaze with the jaguar-man’s. It was hard to be intimidating when she had to whisper so the guards didn’t hear. “Where’s my father? What happened to him?”
“He opened the Gate,” the man replied flatly, meeting her gaze without any hesitation. “You know where he went.”
“First Five Sky.”
The man’s eyes flared and he released a small sound rather like a snort. “He opened the Gate to Xibalba.”
Her mouth fell open, her thoughts wiped blank. She’d suspected as much, but the reality was terrifying. That white walking corpse. Dear God above, what had he done?
“Dr. Merritt!”
She poked the man in the chest hard enough he winced. Damn it, she’d forgotten how badly hurt he was. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Whirling around, she cracked the door like she was scared witless. “Did you catch him?”
“We chased an intruder over the fence.” Dressed in camo pants and a black T-shirt, the guard was bald and heavily tattooed. He looked like he belonged in prison. “Did you get a good look at him?”
“It was the same man who killed Dr. Geoffrey Malcolm in the States. I ran in here and locked the door. Thankfully, he took off as soon as he heard you coming. How’d he get inside?”
The guard shrugged and turned back to the main house. “I’ll report the intruder to Dr. Gerard. He may have questions for you in the morning.”
Yeah, and she’d have a dozen for Sam. With all this security, someone should have noticed an intruder and a jaguar slinking around the perimeter. Hadn’t she screamed? The jaguar had surely roared loudly enough to awaken the dead. And what about security cameras?
Jaid went back inside, locked the door, and watched the guard. He paused in a circle of light and waited beneath the lamppost, watching her hut. She turned around, half expecting to see the strange man lying dead in a puddle of blood, but he was gone.
The Bloodgate Guardian Page 6
