by Vonna Harper
Falling silent, she concentrated on walking. Nacon was nowhere near her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel him on her skin. How amazing was that? She didn’t need to be in the ancient Aztec warrior’s presence for him to wrap himself around her. Nacon wasn’t simply the greatest sex partner bar none she’d ever had, he completed her.
Even if they’d been born centuries apart.
“Was it ever like that for you and Mom? You couldn’t keep your hands off each other? The way the two of you act and talk about each other, that’s what I think, but you couldn’t make a go of it.”
“Because our souls need different things.”
Shaken, she looked around, but of course her father wasn’t standing nearby. How could he be when he lived in the unbelievably distant world she’d been pulled out of? “What do you mean, different needs?” she asked just the same.
“Our roots weren’t in the same place.”
“But you don’t have roots. You’re a gypsy.”
“Am I?”
“Okay, maybe not a gypsy. How about one of those animals that migrate? As soon as a season starts to change, you have to move on.”
“It isn’t that simple. And Dana, you know that.”
“How can I? Every time I asked why you keep looking for new horizons, you brushed me off.”
“Because I thought I could spare you. But what anchors me is having the same impact on you.
It was too much. She couldn’t possibly be arguing with someone who wasn’t there. After saying a silent good-bye to the first man she’d loved, she again focused on her surroundings. How long had it been since she’d been totally alone? Oh yes, she found a measure of solitude within the walls of wherever she was living, but the moment she stepped outside her apartment or condo or small rental, she was surrounded either by other human beings or their material trappings. Even going on hikes or camping out, which were her favorite leisure activities, often meant seeing manmade trails, refuge, jet trails, other hikers. But here…here nature reached out to envelope and embrace her.
She was right. A small pond fed the vegetation she’d initially seen in the distance. Granted, the ground around the pond held proof that it was a popular watering hole for wildlife which meant the water was less than clear, but what was that they said about beggars not being able to be choosers? At least kneeling at the edge of the shallow but broad body of water and drinking out of her cupped hands took care of her thirst. Only now that her throat was no longer dry, what was she going to do?
Worn down by the complex question, she looked around, spotting a tree that cast enough shadow to protect her while she worked through her options, whatever they might be. As she sat and leaned against the trunk, her mind slipped to when she’d supported herself against Nacon’s chest. The peaceful sharing of the same space hadn’t lasted long, of course, thanks to the insanity that seized her every time she came anywhere near him, but resting the back of her head on his shoulder had felt good, damn good.
What would happen if he was here now?
Too fragile to fight the question, she closed her eyes and dove into possibilities. In her mind there she was, her hair brushing his chest and her fingers resting on his naked thighs so she could feel his muscles tense and relax, tense and relax as he fought whatever devils she’d imprinted him with. She was fighting her own devils or, more precisely, a certain buzzing centered in her pussy, but reaching all the way to her scalp and toenails. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on simply being, the buzzing wouldn’t let up.
Of course she was swimming in sexual energy because wasn’t that Nacon striding toward her? Oh yes, there he was, waiting for her if only in her mind, eyes intense, head high, shoulders broad, hair dark. He’d discarded the simple short garment he’d been wearing today and was back to being naked.
More to the point, he was erect, and his hands were near his groin as if daring her to ignore that part of his anatomy. She couldn’t of course, but she needed more than just his cock, more than the muscles braiding his limbs and torso. She needed what was between his ears and beat beneath his chest. Maybe she needed his soul most of all.
Sighing, she rubbed her eyes with shaking fingers, hoping to bring him into even clearer focus and much closer, but when she was done, the truth intruded. He wasn’t there after all, hadn’t found her, hadn’t heard and smelled her need either because he’d given up on her or because he knew she hadn’t made her decision.
But she wasn’t alone.
As recognition registered, she stared, simply stared, open-mouthed at her father.
He stood only a few feet away when a few seconds ago there’d been nothing except dry ground. She couldn’t say what he was wearing, shorts probably, no shoes or shirt. The years had caused his skin to sag slightly, but his belly was as flat as it had always been, and he hadn’t lost any of his height. Despite the sun that forced her to squint, she could tell that his eyes were just as dark and keen and probing as they’d always been. He was smiling that happy/sad smile of his that said he couldn’t believe how much he loved his only child.
What are you doing here? she wanted to ask, but didn’t. Instead, she licked her suddenly dry lips and worked moisture into her throat. “Come sit down, Dad. It’s hot out.”
“It’s always like that here in the summer,” he said and lowered himself to his knees. “I’m glad you found some water.”
Yes, that was his voice, his eyes, his beloved form. “You’ve been watching me?”
Instead of immediately answering, he scooted around so his back, too, was supported by the tree she’d selected earlier. If anyone came by, that person might think they were friends casually chatting about whatever came to mind. She and her dad were friends all right; she’d always felt incredibly close to the man responsible for her being on this earth. Reaching out, she took his strong hand and lifted it so she could kiss the back.
“It’s been quite a day for you, hasn’t it?” he said.
“More than just one day. What are you doing here?”
“Keeping an eye on you, making sure you’re all right.”
Am I? “That’s not what I meant,” she said with a small laugh. “I’m talking about the logistics of what got you to this place and time.”
He sighed. “The simple answer, I came with you. This time.”
Her mind whirled. Much as she needed his embrace for reassurance, she continued to hold his hand as she stared at her surroundings. “With me? Then you know about Nacon don’t you?”
“Yes. Oh yes.”
His words held weight. “How do you feel about that?” She took a steadying breath. “And how much do you know about our relationship?”
“If you’re asking have I been inside your bedroom, the answer is no.”
Which would have been comforting if she and Nacon had had sex in her bedroom, which they hadn’t. “But you know what we have going is pretty intense.” Talk about an understatement.
“I understand intense, honey.” Pulling free of her grip, he patted her cheek then rested his hand on his knee. “That’s what your mother and I had.”
They had, hadn’t they. It had been that earthshaking. Well yes, of course it had. She’d always known it, she just hadn’t had anything to compare with before. “I’m glad.” She swallowed. “I’m not your little girl any more, am I?”
“No, and I miss that girl. You’ll understand when you become a parent.”
Her, a parent? And the father of that hypothetical child—Nacon? “What’s happening, Dad?”
“To you? Like you said, a whole lot of intense. But that’s not the whole story, as I’m sure you know now that Nacon has introduced you to his fellow Jaguar Society warriors.”
“The tattoos.”
“Yes, the tattoos. Even after you’d seen them, I thought I should stay in the background so you could concentrate on everything that’s happened today, but I can read your body language. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed, or be alone right now.”
> Overload. “I, ah, thank you. But—one thing at a time. You said something about coming here with Nacon and me. What was it, time travel?”
“For you and Aztec, yes. It was different for Nacon and me.”
“What?” she blurted, her impossible thought bombarding her. Nacon and her father had what in common? Surely not—
“I know what you’re thinking, honey. You can’t make yourself believe that Nacon and I share the same origin, can you?”
“No, I can’t. You’re only twenty-some years older than me.”
“Am I? Have you seen my birth certificate?”
“No.”
“Because I don’t have one.”
Oh god, oh god. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t you? Honey, no matter how crazy you think it’s going to sound, tell me what you’re thinking.”
Although this certainly wasn’t something to laugh at, she did. After all, how often does a person join Alice in Wonderland? She’d fallen into the rabbit hole. Hopefully it had a bottom. “Thinking? More like quicksand up to my chin. I, ah, you’ve been here before, haven’t you? The way you’re acting, so accepting, tells me you have.”
“Dana, I was born here.”
No. Don’t say that. “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“Yes, you do.”
Damn it, you know me so well. “Tell me what I know then. Make sense of it all for me because I sure as hell can’t.” Won’t.
If he was upset by her outburst, he gave no hint. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make this your burden. Honey, there are some things I need to explain to you, a lot of something. I wish your mother was here to help, but maybe it’s better this way. Time for me to step up to the plate and be a parent.”
If she’d been able to get the words out, she would have told him that she’d always thought of him as her parent, but he’d just told her something incomprehensible when he said he’d been born here, or had he?
“Your mind’s open?” he asked. “You’re ready to listen to what I have to say?”
“Yes.” Her voice shook.
Taking her hand again, he pressed it against his chest. “I’m like Nacon, a traveler and a seeker. We didn’t ask for that role; it isn’t one we would have chosen.”
“I, ah, see.”
“No you don’t, not yet. Honey, he and I aren’t the only Aztecs who didn’t die when our civilization did. There aren’t many of us, and although we want to, we can’t stay together. Each of us is locked into our own journey, our separate existence. Some, like me, are totally aware of our surroundings while others like Nacon take a long time to wake up.”
Oh oh, quicksand up to my nose now. “Alone? Each of you is alone?”
“Essentially, yes. Oh, I knew of Nacon’s existence before the two of you came together. Before the connection between you lifted his fog.”
“Connection? You mean our tattoos.”
“Yes.”
Not breathing, she waited for him to explain further or at least acknowledge her need for a complete answer. Instead he said, “He’d been a senior Jaguar Society member while I—I was a farmer. Back when this—” He indicated their surroundings. “—existed for the first time, we were nothing alike. His entire life revolved around fulfilling the gods’ demands while I worked the land, safe from the dangers he faced every day.”
“Wait,” she practically whimpered. “You, a farmer? Then why haven’t you been able to settle down in—in the modern world? I’d think your ties to the land would ground you.”
“You are open to the truth, aren’t you? Thank you. As for your question, I’ve always connected with the land. When this was the only place I knew about, I was happy planting and watching things grow. But in the world you know, that’s no longer possible. I tried right after I met your mother, but I learned I couldn’t become what was necessary in order to support my family. Not only didn’t I have the money to buy enough land to make a living off of, I lacked the resources to compete against huge corporations. My skills were what you’d call primitive.”
“I would have helped.” Hearing her words, she tried to laugh at herself. “So different. This—” Now it was her turn to indicate what they were looking at. “—is nothing like the life I was born into.”
“No, honey. Given time, you’ll learn that people throughout the centuries have the same heartbeat, that family matters and love sustains us. But so much has changed since I was born.”
Catching her father’s melancholy tone, she squeezed his hand only to have him wind up massaging her suddenly cold fingers. But although she was still shaking a little, she also accepted everything her father had told her. Looking back, she might question it all, including her sanity, but for now it was vital that she simply absorb what he was handing her. So her father, and thus she, carried Aztec blood.
“Mother knew? When the two of you got married, she knew who you were?”
“I told her after the first time we had sex.”
“How—how did she take it?”
“Much as you are, honey. With an open mind.”
“I don’t have a choice. Reality’s pretty hard to deny.”
“That’s what your mother said.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did it take Nacon’s appearance to…”
He didn’t exactly sigh, but she sensed that he was gathering himself, looking for the right words. And he’d been right; her mother should be there.
“It was a decision your mother and I came to together once we realized she and I weren’t going to make it. We thought—we prayed that giving you a life that was the same as other children would give you the peace she and I couldn’t achieve. Her influence in your life has always been the primary one. We told ourselves that would have more impact than whatever genetics I passed onto you.”
“Has—has she ever been here?”
“Once. I brought her. She couldn’t handle it.”
Why not, Mom? It’s incredible. “So you returned to the present with her?”
Turning toward her, he stared until she had no choice but to meet his eyes, his haunted eyes. “Listen to me, honey. And please, don’t speak until I’m done.”
“All right.”
“The gods in their incomprehensible wisdom have decided that a handful of those who were once part of the world’s greatest civilization would exist for all time, but back when they made that decision, they didn’t concern themselves with whether we wanted that life or were happy. We’re nomads, people who feel complete only when we’re in the past, even though we know the past no longer exists. That’s why our search is endless, and why, sometimes, we touch others, like your mother.”
“And me.”
“It’s different with you because you carry my blood. Honey, your mother and I were wrong; I know that now. You carry more of me than we wanted to admit.”
She’d once been in a whiteout when the snow had fallen so hard and fast that she’d become disoriented and had to pull over to the side of the road. This wasn’t much different and yet she didn’t want to stop the journey.
“I couldn’t live the life that would have been handed to me if I’d stayed with your mother because it wasn’t mine,” he continued. “No matter how much time I spend in the twenty-first century, it remains foreign to me. That’s part of why I’m restless. I keep looking for something, anything to connect with. There’s you, the most important thing in my life, and your mother, but I can’t give either of you all of me because my soul lives here.” He patted the ground with his free hand.
About to tell him how sorry she was, she remembered her promise to let him finish. Besides, maybe her glistening eyes were saying enough.
“When we divorced, your mother told me to come back here and let that become my world, but I couldn’t.”
“Because of the gods’ dictates or because of me?” she blurted.
“You. You can’t understand this yet, but the gods aren’t cruel. They don’t want what we
once were to become nothing.”
“They’re trying to hold onto the past?”
“A past which still exists. Dana, there’s another reason I decided not to stay here permanently, at least not for as long as you’re alive.”
Too much. I’m already on overload. “What’s that?”
“When I’m here, I continue to age just like everyone else. If I allowed that to happen, I might not live long enough to see you become a mother, a grandmother.”
“Everyone else?” She forced the words. “Then—this aging thing—it’ll happen to Nacon?”
“Yes. And he understands that. Once the ever-living understand that they will never die as long as they follow the gods’ path, they’re allowed to decide how to live their lives. Most come back, which means the generations to come will never know what it was to be Aztec.”
“Passing on their advancements, wisdom, beliefs, you mean? What about you? Didn’t you want to share your wisdom with Mom and my generation?”
“It isn’t that simple. This time and place owns my soul, but you claim my heart. Whenever I come back here, my heart cries for you—and your mother. And when I’m in your world, my soul starts to die.”
Aching in a way she never had, she hugged her father so tightly that she was afraid she’d hurt him.
“Don’t cry for me, honey,” he whispered. “I’ve found a kind of peace by splitting my time between what you comprehend as past and present. Because I do, my aging is slowed. I just wish…”
“What?”
Sighing, he pulled back a little and again kissed her forehead. “That I hadn’t passed my restlessness onto you. Your mother and I never guessed that was going to happen, but we should have. This—” He pressed his hand over where her tattoo lay. “—should have told us that you are my daughter in many ways.”
