by Lisa Kessler
Surveying her work, she let out a satisfied sigh and disappeared into the tent. Once she was safely back inside, Gretchen pulled the flare gun from the back of her belt and put the extra flares from her pocket onto the makeshift table beside her cot.
She plopped onto her cot and opened her newspaper. The seemingly self-inflicted death toll had risen to over fifteen thousand people in an area that ranged from southern Texas to the northern shores of South America. And the radius of death was expanding. The FBI was working with international authorities, searching for some hidden connection between the victims and locations. According to the article, it didn’t sound like they had uncovered much.
It didn’t really matter, though. They wouldn’t believe the truth behind the deaths even if they found it.
In the meantime, the large Catholic populations in Latin America were waiting for the Pope to render a decision on whether or not the wave of death might be one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse. Gretchen sighed, shaking her head at the black-and-white photos of fanatics toting large signs announcing that the end of the world was coming. But who was she to dub them fanatical? They might be right.
If Camalotz became strong enough to spread her mental poison across the oceans… Gretchen’s jaw tightened. She didn’t even want to think about it.
Folding up the paper, she set it aside, almost wishing she’d never read it. She lay back onto her cot. Her head throbbed. There was too much death all around her. Entire families were dying, feeding the Night Demon that Zafrina warned her about. Gretchen remembered all too well her own encounter in San Diego.
A shiver shot down her spine. She had come so close to feeding the Demon with her own life. The compulsion to kill herself had overwhelmed her. Camalotz had the ability to convince a person, without ever laying eyes on them, that there was no reason to go on living.
Where would it all end?
No one could answer that question, and Gretchen was too exhausted to consider it any longer. Her entire body ached. She needed to sleep while it was still daylight and the immortal creatures were resting. Right now, the sun felt like her only ally.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The door to the tent fluttered. Gretchen’s eyes shot open, and she reached for the flare gun. She’d always been able to transition from sleep to instant awareness. Her father used to say she slept with one eye open. Now, as she lay on her cot, holding her breath and watching the door, she was grateful for her ability.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she forced herself to remain still and wait.
Darkness had settled over the jungle. Wind whistled, blowing a thin sheet of hot rain against the side of the tent. She gripped the flare gun tighter, listening. She wasn’t sure if she’d even be able to hear the jingle of her keys with the rain beating on the weatherproofed canvas walls the way they were.
Minutes ticked by, but nothing out of the ordinary came through the door. The panic slowly faded, and gradually her muscles relaxed. It was only the wind.
But before she could lie back down on her cot, the “wind” entered her tent, and Gretchen didn’t hesitate to squeeze the trigger.
…
Issa resumed tracking Ch’en the moment the sun dipped below the horizon. The Goddess of the Moon was the key to silencing Camalotz, and each night the stain of death spread farther. He tried not to think about the way his chest tightened with buried emotion the moment he’d seen her face again.
Mulac soared above him, sending any visual clues he found directly into Issa’s mind. The black jaguar stalked through the jungle, using his strong sense of smell, searching for any sign of the goddess’s scent.
Ch’en did not come this way, Mulac. Her scent does not linger here.
I see their trail from the air. The branches are broken, the grass trampled… We are very close, my brother.
But Issa’s instincts told him they were going in the wrong direction. Was Mulac deliberately leading him further away from Ch’en and her companion? Impossible…
Or was it?
The mighty black jaguar snarled, spinning around. He loped back the way he had come, his gait growing faster with each silent stride.
You are going the wrong direction. Mulac’s voice whispered into his mind from the skies overhead.
Before Issa could answer, a light erupted through the darkness directly ahead of him. His eyes burned with the sudden brightness, and his keen hearing locked in on the boom of the explosion. He was close.
Mulac had been leading him away. Rage festered in his chest at the realization of his brother’s deceit. If they lost the Goddess of the Moon, there would be no way to stop Camalotz.
Issa picked up the pace, racing through the jungle toward the sound as he sent his silent growl up to the eagle soaring above him. I do not know this game you are playing, Mulac, but I am no longer your brother.
…
The Guardian felt movement to his right, followed by a gasp. Although the Demon had stolen his vision, his other enhanced senses allowed him to see in a new way. He held out his hand toward her.
“You are awake?” He waited, making no other movements. The petite blond Night Walker had survived an attack from Camalotz. Her mind was most likely as damaged as her body.
He kept his voice soft, but its low timbre could not be helped. “Are you in pain?”
“My name is Marguerite.” Her voice trembled. “Who are you?”
He dropped his hand back to his side. “I am the Guardian.”
“You are the Night Demon’s lover…Camalotz’s mate.”
“Protector of the mortal world.” He let out a defeated sigh. “An impossible task for any one being. She is too strong to be stopped.”
He heard the woman get up and settle in front of him. She smelled of fresh flowers in spite of her surroundings.
“Did she do that to you?”
He raised his large hand, smudging the blood on his cheek as he nodded slowly. “She took my eyes.”
He felt the woman’s hand lightly grasp his own. “Why would she do this to you?” Her soft fingers traced along his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face, carefully avoiding his wounds as they healed.
“Her eyes were lost in a battle.”
“So she took yours,” she whispered.
“He’le. Yes.” Although he could no longer see, he kept alert, listening for the Demon’s return.
“She had no right to harm you.” He could hear a trace of anger in her melodic voice.
“She had no right and all rights.”
“That makes no sense.”
He turned toward the sound of her voice. “I am hers. Perhaps in this world, lovers do not hurt their loved ones, but Camalotz is not of this world. I belong to her, and I fear her. I love her and hate her. I was made to please her and also to stop her conquest of this world. It does not need to make sense, it simply is. I know no other way to explain it to you.”
“How did I get here?” she finally asked.
The Guardian placed his other hand over hers, enveloping her soft, porcelain skin between his palms. “I am not certain. I found you in our bedchamber. Dead, but not dead. I knew you would be sentenced to an eternity of pain without blood to heal your body’s thirst, so I covered you and fed you from my veins.”
“No.” Her grip on his hand tightened. “Kane attacked me. How did I end up in the Demon’s lair?”
“Kane?” The Guardian frowned. “You know the God of the East?”
“He is my maker.” Her tear hit the back of his hand. “He was the other half of my soul.”
The Guardian shook his head. “Kane would never forfeit a loved one to her appetite.”
Her French accent thickened, exposing her invisible wounds. “He was more animal than man. He took my blood without my consent and drank until my world went dark.”
The Guardian remained silent, staring blindly into the darkness. Finally, he squeezed her hand. “Camalotz is not like the Night Walkers. While you can only take the form of your animal
spirit, she can become anything she chooses once she has taken their blood into her body. She has tasted Kane’s blood in the past. That would allow her to become him in the future if she chose it.”
Marguerite’s body went rigid. “You think Camalotz attacked me in Kane’s form?”
“It is the only answer that makes sense. Kane does not know where we rest. He could not have brought you here.”
Marguerite withdrew her hand from his and he sensed she paced in front of him. “Is she so purely evil that it gave her pleasure to make me believe it was Kane who raped me for my blood? Why not just kill me and be done with it? Surely she has that power.”
The Guardian shook his head slowly. “I do not know. There is usually a purpose to her actions, but I cannot guess what it might be.” He turned toward the sound of her voice. “She does hate you—she must. She brought you here to ensure you endured many nights trapped in your bloodless body with the pain of your hunger.”
“How can she hate someone she has never seen? I still would not recognize her in her true form. How could she know using Kane’s image would hurt me?”
“Camalotz can penetrate even the strongest minds. Perhaps she saw Kane in your mind, or saw your face in his thoughts.”
“She nearly took his heart the last time she walked the earth. Maybe she knew that hurting me would wound Kane.”
“It is possible.” He nodded. “Or she simply saw your love for Kane inside your mind. Camalotz does not understand love, and yet she yearns for it. She hates any being that enjoys a pleasure she cannot share.”
“What will happen to you if she finds out you helped me?”
“I do not know. I am her consort and companion. There is a good chance she has the power to destroy me. I do not know, but I also do not believe she would try. I am the only part of this world of man that is truly hers. Her rage will be intense, but I do not think she will end my existence. Without me, she is alone.”
“We need to escape before she returns.” Marguerite took his hand, tugging him toward the mouth of the cave.
“It is useless to run. Camalotz has tasted our blood. She would find us no matter where we went. There is no hiding from her.”
“Then we find Kane and Colin.” She kept pulling him forward, strong for a tiny thing. “We can face her together…”
“They have not yet found the Goddess of the Moon who called Camalotz back into this world. There is no way to stop the Demon without sacrificing her master’s blood to close the door to this world.”
Marguerite groaned. “Why did you save me if my fate was already sealed?”
The Guardian straightened to his full height, his head held high. “I could do no other than save you from her wrath. I was created to guard and protect.”
“Then leave this place with me to protect Kane and Colin and the other brothers who created you. They are out there somewhere, and so is the Demon. They need our help.”
“I will find them, but you must stay.” He stepped back from her. “Camalotz will know if you leave this place.”
He heard her exasperated sigh. “You are blind. You need me. How will you find them without your eyes?”
His large shoulders fell slightly, but before he could respond, he felt her hand in his.
“Let me be your eyes. Together, we will find the others.”
…
Lukas rose from his resting place and started toward Cancun to find Gretchen, but he stopped himself. This was Gretchen. Did he really believe she’d do what he told her to?
He looked back in the direction of their tent. She couldn’t have stayed there knowing the Demon and other ancient Night Walkers were roaming the jungle. No.
He took another step and stopped again. She wouldn’t have slept in the tent without any way to defend herself.
Except for her damn flare gun.
He almost smiled at the thought of Gretchen’s aversion to firearms. She wasn’t militant about her dislike for guns, never judging others for their use of a rifle or handgun, but he’d learned after sharing many long months in the jungle with her that she would never own a gun, and certainly never trusted herself to fire one.
She’d told him once that a bullet was too permanent, too irreversible. So rather than use a pistol for protection from wild animals or the occasional poacher out looking for a jaguar pelt, Gretchen had purchased a flare gun. In her own words, it was “enough to scare away a wild animal and slow down a poacher.”
His heart clenched. He already missed her.
Without realizing it, he started walking back toward the research tent. He’d just check to be sure. And he’d never tell her he’d contemplated that she’d risk staying at the tent.
A sudden burst of red lit the night, followed by the tortured scream of a woman.
Lukas ran.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The flare hit the dark-haired intruder square in the chest, knocking him on his back right outside the tent, followed by a woman’s scream.
Gretchen’s hands trembled, but she didn’t drop the flare gun. She shoved the door open, eyes widening when she saw the man’s chest on fire.
“Gretchen, I need your help!” The woman screamed over the rain. “Please, help me.”
Gretchen lowered the gun, firing up her father’s lullaby in the back of her mind. “How do you know my name?”
Before she could answer, a huge horned owl swooped through the doorway. It landed directly in front of Gretchen as a man. Lukas. Gretchen dropped the flare gun.
“Calisto is my maker.” Lukas rushed to the fallen man, calling over his shoulder. “Gretchen, get my leather gloves.”
“Leave me,” Calisto gasped, staring up at Lukas. “I will heal. Save Kate.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Kate piled mud onto his chest, trying to smother the chemical fire feeding on his immortal flesh.
He remained focused on Lukas. “He recognized her.” He winced, gasping. “Called her Ch’en.” His eyes darkened. “Get Kate out before they find her. Protect her, Lukas.”
Gretchen handed Lukas his gloves, and faster than the human eye could see, he donned them. He ripped the core of the flare free from Calisto’s chest and tossed it out into the storm.
Kate stared at his wounds and choked on a sob while Gretchen’s stomach wretched. Calisto lifted his head, pain lining his features. The fire had burned through his skin, leaving his sternum exposed. Hot rain pelted bone and muscle tissue. Calisto dropped his head back and clenched his jaw, obviously struggling not to scream.
Gretchen watched them, feeling sick with guilt and uselessness. She should have stuck with the plan and driven to Cancun.
Calisto opened his eyes again. “I have never asked you for anything, Lukas.” His breath wheezed, air seeping out through a hole in his lung. “Take the women. There is another Night Walker, an ancient. Black hair, black eyes. He is hunting Kate. Chasing us. No doubt they have”—Calisto winced, fighting for the breath to continue—“seen the fire here.” He coughed, growling in pain. “Please, Lukas. Take Kate and Gretchen and go.”
A silent moment passed between the two men, and Lukas rose to his feet. Taking Gretchen’s hand, he reached for Kate.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed over the bellowing storm. “I won’t leave him here.”
“He will live.” Lukas held his hand out to her. “It’ll take time, but his body will heal.”
“Not if the others kill him first.”
“It is you they want, Kate,” Calisto whispered. “Do not waste time. Go.”
Kate cradled his head in her lap, her wet hair covering both their faces in a shroud as she wept. “I love you. You don’t leave someone you love when they need you most. I won’t go.”
“No.”
Gretchen snapped her gaze up when the deep voice cut through the storm. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark skin and long, black hair stepped into the clearing. His gaze was locked on Kate, snapping Gretchen’s trip wires as he walked straight toward th
em.
“You will not be going anywhere.”
…
“We make a good team.” Marguerite pulled his hand, guiding him around a low-hanging tree branch. “You are the map of this jungle, and I am your eyes.”
The Guardian nodded, leading her deeper into the thick of the rainforest. Even without his eyes, he felt confident he could lead her to the ancient pyramid, to Kane. The God of the East would protect her from the Demon.
“Should I tell you what I see? Do you know where we are?”
He heard the uncertainty in her voice. “Have faith in me. It is not my eyes that make me the Guardian to the mortal world. They are but one sense.”
“My mind was shielded. How could you—”
“I am not like you,” he interrupted. “I hear and sense many things that you cannot.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. He knew without seeing that her cheeks were flushed with color, but he would keep that knowledge to himself.
After another hour, her concern had blossomed into hopelessness.
“We are not walking in circles.”
She squeezed his hand. “My lack of confidence is showing?”
“He’le.” He couldn’t prevent his smile that time. A foreign sensation. “But you will see our destination is right through these trees.”
When he heard her gasp, he stopped, giving her a moment to take in the massive monument. The pyramid had been hidden away, forgotten by humanity for over a thousand years. Nature had reclaimed it for herself, keeping modern man far from her secrets.
“Come. Help me find the entrance.” The Guardian walked without assistance toward the stone base. “We cannot remain in the open while Camalotz still wanders the jungle.”
Once he touched the walls, his large hands searched the ancient limestone seams for the one that would yield the opening. When he found the spot, he reached for her hand. “This way.”
Marguerite followed him into the thick, stale air. He heard her fingertips brushing along the edge of the moist walls.
“I see a light.” She pulled him faster, and gasped when they rounded the corner. “Colin?” She dropped the Guardian’s hand. “You’re injured.”
