Mayan Lover

by Wendy S. Hales

  Gwen set her hand to his forearm. “Sir, please … he—” She couldn’t think of the Spanish word for stalked. “Hunted me.” She could hear the tremor in her voice.

  The man glanced past her and opened the zipper. John’s body had been loaded feet first. He looked like he was sleeping. Even had a small grin on his face. Her hand shook as she touched the pulse at his neck. Nothing. My mother is going to be pissed. Gwen’s shaky knees folded, but of course Arka never let her hit the ground. He carried her a lot, probably thought she was the weakest female in existent. He couldn’t possibly love her. Not after this. He didn’t even really know her. Once he did …

  When she was back in Arka’s arms at the ambulance with the mask on, Arka finally asked the question she knew had to be bothering him. “Gwen, what do you mean he ‘hunted’ you?”

  “Arka.” Enrique spoke from behind her. “They need to ask you a few questions. I’ll stay with her.”

  Arka nodded and stood, shifting her to sit in the door with her feet on the step up into the ambulance. Enrique sat next to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and joined Maggie with the group of officers.

  Enrique cleared his throat. “Can I tell you something?”

  Gwen’s focus was on the group across the lot. She couldn’t hear what they said, but Maggie’s animated hand movements were pretty self-explanatory. Arka’s brows furled and his eyes lifted to hers, slamming home the fact that her entire history was being laid at his feet. Gwen felt humiliated “Sure,” she muttered.

  “You are without a doubt the bravest woman I’ve ever known.”

  Was he kidding? The look of admiration on his face stunned her. “I am not brave, Enrique.”

  The look of admiration remained, infused with sadness. “My two best friends growing up married each other. For years I didn’t realize he was beating her. I tried to reason with him, tried to help her leave him. She kept going back until …” He shook his head. “You did what she never could.” Gwen’s eyes returned to Maggie. Enrique’s words shed light on how hard all of this must have been on Maggie, too.

  “Dr. Kramer.” A heavyset Hispanic man in a suit extended his hand to shake hers in greeting. Enrique took the offered hand in her stead. “I am Señor Jefez, commissioner of police. I just spoke with your attorney in the states. On behalf of Belize, I extend my apologies. Your ex-husband’s passport was flagged in customs, but we slipped up and missed it.”

  Gwen knew Martha had probably threatened to sue the entire country. “Are my friends being charged with any crime?”

  He seemed shocked by her question. “Of course not. Señor Arka’s actions were justified entirely.” Gwen could have sworn he muttered, “well justified” under his breath. “The only charges are against Jorge Diez for aiding.” Señor Jefez pointed to a police car set off from the others.

  Gwen saw the tear-streaked face of an older gentleman staring at her sorrowfully. “Can I speak to him?”

  Señor Jefez opened his mouth and Gwen could tell he wanted to say no, but he nodded and waved his hand, and an officer led the handcuffed man over. Gwen recognized his loafers from the alley.

  The guy bowed to her over and over. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. Please forgive me, señorita.” She’d heard the same words from him earlier.

  Gwen took off the mask and stepped down. “Jorge. You were used and manipulated by someone who seemed like such a nice guy.” She, more than anyone, could sympathize.

  Jorge nodded rapidly. “Ci’. I called the police.”

  Pity for Jorge consumed her. “I forgive you. The trick will be learning to forgive yourself.” Horror dawned on Jorge’s face. “Commissioner, I don’t want this man charged. He’s a victim, just like me. Drop the charges, and I assure you I won’t pursue damages against anyone.”

  Just like that the handcuffs were removed. Jorge knelt at her feet. It reminded her of Arka. Gwen set her hand to the top of the balding head. “Promise me you will do everything in your power to help battered women. Dedicate your life to it.”

  “I promise,” Jorge pledged. He thanked her, apologized again, and ran back toward the bar.

  It was dawn before they were allowed to leave. Gwen had never been so exhausted in her life. The small butterfly bandages where her black and blue throat had been nicked by the knife stung, and she had a pounding headache. Every muscle in her body ached from oxygen deprivation. And to top it off, Arka hadn’t spoken a word to her. Did she disgust him now? Not that she would blame him. In addition to the other things Maggie knew about, she must have told the police about finding Gwen tied up, naked, raped and beaten by her husband two years ago. And Maggie didn’t know about everything, only her therapist did.

  The deluge of rain on the car was the only sound. They had ridden in complete silence. Arka had taken the passenger seat, and Gwen’s head rested in Maggie’s lap. Not once had he looked back at her. She could see his jaw clench and unclench, and his movements when they hit ruts were stiff and unnatural. Was he thinking about how rough she’d demanded he make love to her under the falls? Did he wonder if her penchant for hard sex was responsible for John turning into a monster? She’d been haunted by the same thoughts since the first time John had raised his fist to her. It was part of the reason she’d stayed with him so long … she felt responsible for encouraging him to be more aggressive in bed. Maggie’s fingers brushing in her hair lulled her thoughts enough so she could doze off. Arka was absent from her dreams. She felt empty, hollow inside.

  Chapter Nine

  Hearing the man call Gwen his ‘wife’ had stunned Arka. If he had reacted faster he could have spared her injury. The new scrapes on her hands and knees, the bruises and small cut at her throat, even the fear-filled tremor in her voice, were the result of Arka’s failure to act quicker. Once he realized killing the man was the only way to protect Gwen, Arka had done what was necessary in as humane and painless a manner as he knew.

  After hearing Maggie ‘s account of the history between Gwen and her ex-husband, Arka wished he could resurrect the animal and kill him again. Make him suffer and endure a few moments of violent subjugation. Only a man without honor would raise a fist to a woman. The level of violence Gwen had suffered through twisted to a knot of impotent rage in his chest.

  Arka was surprised and grateful when Gwen didn’t rouse from her sleep while he carried her into her trailer and left her with Maggie. She still felt small and delicate in his arms, but his view of her had changed. He looked into her angelic face and saw the fortitude of a survivor. She embodied the strength of a true goddess. He laid her on her bed and she snuggled into a pillow with a gentle purr. With his thumb he traced the soft contour of her jaw line.

  He forced his eyes from her to Maggie, who lifted the outer edge of her lips in a grim, knowing expression. “She’s tougher that you know, Arka. It’ll be okay. This wasn’t her first rodeo … thank you for making it her last.” He didn’t understand all Maggie said, but he got the sentiment.

  “You will stay with my goddess?” Arka tried to temper the anger from his voice.

  Maggie lifted a brow. “Duh. She’s not leaving my sight, big guy.”

  He hated stepping away, but he needed to do something. Taking one last look at Gwen as Maggie pulled the trailer door closed, his resolve to get answers solidified. The flap of the tent he shared with Enrique ripped when he yanked it open. Lifting the wood slate makeshift flooring up he dug his crystal skull from the shallow hole where he’d buried it beneath and stuffed it into a carry bag, his motions stiff with anger.

  Ignoring the worried look on Enrique’s face, he barked, “Guard her with your very life.”

  “You have my word, uncle.” Enrique followed him from the tent and took Arka’s post at Gwen’s front door despite the light rain.

  He’d never doubted his destiny until now. Never questioned his importance in helping the Goddess of Moonlight find her destiny. What he’d heard tonight filled him with doubt and fury. N
ot at her, but at himself. Stalking to the shore of the pond they’d swam in, he withdrew the skull and set it to the ground. Legs folded under him, arms extended on either side of the sacred face, he leaned to touch his forehead to that of the cool stone and opened his mind. The early morning sun filtered through the lifting rain clouds and tree leaves to warm his back.

  A bright, blinding light added to the vertigo of rapid movement, then stopped just as abruptly. Arka looked around at the glowing walls surrounding the chamber. “I expected this visit, Arka.” A voice boomed from a man as he shimmered and appeared. He indicated the floor, and Arka could see himself on the shore in prayer with the stone.

  Every time he’d needed the stone in his youth, it had enlightened his thoughts, given him a sense of purpose, shown him images a few times. That it was also an astral portal to the Sun God really didn’t surprise him. It was disrespectful not to kneel, but Arka was too furious, so he paced. “Do you know what she’s been through?” he demanded.

  To Arka’s surprise, Kinich Ahau didn’t strike him down. The god matched his pace, pivoted in mirror image with him. “I’ve seen.”

  Arka stopped and faced the yellow-gold eyes. “I am her protector. Why was I not allowed to protect her? Why was I barred from her dreams when she needed me most? Why did my Journey happen too late for me to do my duty to her … to you … to the Moon Goddess, Ixchel herself?”

  Kinich Ahau placed a hot hand to his shoulder. “The Goddess of Moonlight’s trials could not change when the merging of your destinies happened, Arka. The energy of the universe is defined and not subject to humanity. The timing of your Journey was dictated by universal alignment. Her prior joining was not divinely sanctioned. It was the result of human fallibilities. Her union with you, Arka, is divinely sanctioned.”

  “I could have been there for her in dream.” He was still angry. Union with me? The last part Kinich said filtered slowly through his rage.

  This time Kinich Ahau started pacing. “The Goddess of Moonlight blocked your dreams, and only she can explain her reasons. Perhaps she sought to protect you in her own way.” He pursed his lips. “I will give you a word of wisdom. Ixchel is strong, beautiful … and very female. As much as I love my moon wife, I don’t always understand her. No matter how desperately I want to protect my wife, some pain will find a way to her. I’ve come to learn that the greatest protection I can give is the unwavering haven of my love. I have faith in her strength and her ability to face any challenge. In return, she believes in both herself and me. The Goddess of Moonlight does not need you to question her path to this point, nor does she need you to hold yourself accountable. She needs you to see beyond it. Love her, have faith in her, believe in her, enable her to see beyond it herself. If you can’t, you’re not worthy of her.”

  Arka knelt and bowed in homage. “Thank you, Sun God.” His anger had been replaced by knowledge. Gwen must have had her reasons, must have believed she would survive without him. He still hated it, but he could see past it.

  Kinich Ahau touched the top of his head. “Claim your bride and retrieve the skull, my son. The Moon Goddess needs the daughter born of her essence.”

  Claim your bride … my son? The term slammed into him as the blinding tunnel sucked him back into his body. Arka lifted the skull and returned it to the bag reverently. His steps lighter, he returned to the camp. The woman he'd loved his entire life was meant to be his mate. Was it possible she loved him, too? He had to find out.

  The sun was high and he could hear the people working the other sites, but Gwen’s sat empty. Enrique jumped up when he approached. “Gather equipment. Concentrate the dig to the spot I pointed out. I’ll meet you shortly.”

  Enrique smiled. “Glad to have you back, uncle.”

  Arka returned the smile and lightly rapped on the door. Maggie opened it; he could tell he had woken her. She opened the door wide for him to enter. Gwen lay sleeping. Her brows were furled, lips pursed, the bruises at her throat vivid against the purity of her skin. “Maggie, I’d like a moment alone with her.”

  Maggie rubbed her eyes and yawned as she stepped down the step and softly closed the door behind her. Arka sat next to Gwen, drinking in her beauty. He brushed the stray hair from her cheek and she sighed. Careful not to disturb her, he lightly touched his forehead to hers. Rather than just hearing her thoughts, he found himself in the pitch black of her dream. Gwen’s lonely despair hammered into him. He could feel her pain. “Gwen.” He called out into the darkness of her dream.

  Like a moonbeam she lit up. She was sitting on the ground with her legs clutched to her chest, rocking. Her eyes held a mixture of sadness, heartbreak, confusion and … tentative hope. “I’m so sorry—.”

  He squatted down and pressed a finger to her ruby lips. “The past is gone, Gwen.” For both of them he added to himself. “Will you be my wife and mate for eternity?” She hurled herself into his chest, knocking him to his back. He chuckled, loving the feel of her against him.

  “Did you mean it when you said you love me?” The vulnerability in her eyes made him love her even more.

  Her startled gasp trailed into a giggle as he rolled her beneath him. “Need you ask? I love you with all that I am, Gwen.”

  She lifted her head till their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. “I love you, too.” Her lips met his and he felt his soul meld with hers.

  His loincloth and her gown vanished with a thought, leaving them bared to one another in every way. He sunk into her heat slowly. It went beyond a psychical coupling. This was spiritual. She met him stroke for stroke. Their tongues tangled. Her need for release matched his. They cried out in unison as her inner walls milked his seed. The light of the sun and the moon bathed them.

  He opened his eyes and met her alert gaze.

  “Oh, my God, did that just happen?” The awe in her voice mirrored the awe he felt.

  “Gods.” He corrected. “And yes. It did.”

  She bit her bottom lip and grinned. “What was that?”

  He grinned back. “A spiritual mating. Our shaman told tales of them happening between gods.” My son. He’d always known about Gwen, yet he’d never suspected that he too might come from the essence of a god.

  He lay on his back and she straddled his chest his with crossed arms. “So you think you’re a god now?”

  “Gwen, I am not named after the Journeyer … I am Arka the Journeyer,” he began. She crinkled her brows with confusion. “I have lived twenty-five cycles of the seasons just like you. I was born the same instant you were. We have been linked by destiny from birth. Only my birth took place more than twenty-six hundred years ago. The Journey I was destined to take brought me to this time … to you.”

  He could see the disbelief in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

  Her mind was closing down. Arka took a deep breath, nodded, and pushed on. “In the Mayan tiles it speaks of the White Woman.” She nodded. “You are the White Woman, Gwen. You are the human essence of the Moon Goddess, Ixchel. Her daughter. You are the Goddess of Moonlight.”

  “I have parents … human parents. Gods are myth, folklore. They aren’t real. These types of conversation are the reason you never put an evolutionary theorist in a room with the Pope.” She gave him an exasperated glare.

  Arka felt the scientist in her trying to debunk what she was hearing. He changed his tactic. “Gwen, how many images exist in the history of the world depicting celestial beings in one form or another?” Her lips pursed adorably, and Arka struggled to stay on focus rather than kiss her. “According to the books Enrique gave me, the oldest human account of a single god only began a few thousand years ago. Before that, every civilization worshiped many individual gods. It seems to me that modern man recognizes only the supreme goddess of the universe regardless of what they use as an icon. They have turned away from her god offspring. Those gods and goddesses exist whether people worship them or not.”

  “Arka, I respect your religious beliefs. It’s the w
hole ‘we are gods’ and ‘I Journeyed through time’ assertion that doesn’t jibe.” She straightened her elbows and lifted from him. “I have a really good therapist …”

  He grasped her cheeks and pulled her forehead to his. “You believe in this … believe in me.”

  He felt her reserved nod of consent. “I’ll listen, Arka. That’s all I can promise.” He could ask nothing more of her than to hear him out.

  He released her and she settled back to his chest. “I’ve always known you. I’ve worshiped you all of my life. It wasn’t until today that I learned I am the essence son of Kinich Ahau.”

  “Okay … what equates to an essence child? Are you a self-proclaimed prophet kind of time traveler?” Sarcasm tinged with cynicism dripped from her words. At least she hadn’t tried to leave … yet.

  The fact that Gwen was coming to the conclusion that Arka had a religious delusion was becoming more apparent. “I was taught by shaman that gods are the essence of energy. Gods use a piece of themselves—their essence—to create a new god at a spiritual level. When the universe dictates, that spirit is given to a child upon conception. Your parent are your parents biologically, the same as mine were … the Moon Goddess is the mother of your soul.”

  The tapping of her fingers against his chest was the only outward sign of agitation. “You’re saying I am the Goddess of Moonlight and you are the God of …”

  “Sunlight.” The tile the artisans had finished mere hours before he embarked on his Journey suddenly made sense. He’d been so wrapped up in the ceremony to come, he’d never bothered to ask about the new god image. The knowledge that he, too, was a god was still difficult to grasp, but his union with Gwen made it undeniable. “I traveled through time under the stellar-aligned Universe with the guidance of the Sun and Moon.”

  She reached over and grabbed a book from her table, flipped through the pages to the legend of the Journeyer. “That is you?” She pointed at the image of the tile. He couldn’t help it—he grinned. Whether Gwen wanted to believe or not, he’d piqued her interest. She flipped to another page and pointed to the tile he’d barely glanced at on his departure day. “And that’s you?” He looked at it closely and nodded. Bending the pages she looked at the two images side by side with that of the Sun God. “Holy shit. Dr. Hanson is going to have a field day when he finds out these images are connected.”