“Zanya, are you all right?” Jayden crouched beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. Her gaze dragged from his hand and up his forearm, now covered in tattoos.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” She narrowed her eyes as, raw, untamable heat bellowed in her gut. She slapped his hand away. “I said, don’t touch me!” She pushed to her feet, hands balled into tight fists. “Don’t you ever touch me! What the hell are you doing here? Who brought you here? Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“No, Zanya, calm down and I’ll explain.” He backed up a few steps, out of striking distance.
She jabbed her finger in the air. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! You just disappear one day without so much as a good-bye, a note, a screw-you-I’m-leaving, and you’re telling me to calm down?”
Arwan was the first to reach them, followed close behind by Tara and Peter. When Tara rounded the corner, she came to a screeching halt. Her jaw dropped open. Peter ran into the back of her in the crowded hallway.
“Okay then.” Jayden turned his attention back to Arwan. “Since we’ve had the great pleasure of meeting already, I guess introductions aren’t necessary.”
“Am I the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on?” Peter asked.
“Apparently so. I’m Jayden, the seeker. Your boss asked for my help to find the stone.”
“How did you find this place?” Arwan said.
“Well, that’s a funny thing.” He squared his stance. “I called to see how things were going, and your boss told me Zanya had been here for a few days already.”
“You know each other?” Zanya’s gaze darted between Jayden and Arwan.
Jayden scoffed. “Unfortunately.”
Suddenly the heat fueling the fire in her chest fizzled out, replaced by a fierce cold that left her trembling and unable to stand. She slumped against the wall, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. Tara shoved through the hall and hooked her arm around Zanya's waist, supporting her the best she could.
Jayden shifted toward Zanya and reached out.
“Don’t, Jay.” Tara held her hand out in front of her. “Just, don’t.”
He lowered his arm to his side. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”
Arwan shifted closer to Jayden, his glare intensified. “I don’t know why she’s so upset you’re here, but if you bother her, you will regret it.”
After a few tense moments, Arwan turned toward Zanya.
Zanya’s body trembled. “I really can’t do this right now.”
“I don’t understand,” Arwan said.
“Yeah.” Tara cleared her throat. “About that.” She leaned in and whispered in Arwan’s ear.
***
Arwan
Arwan waited in the study with the rest of the group. He glared across the room at the seeker. The same seeker he hadn’t wanted there to begin with, even before Tara told him who he really was.
Zanya's ex-boyfriend.
No wonder she was hysterical. Now it all made sense. Her apprehension. The fleeting comments of still having a broken heart. The seeker had hurt her.
Tara was the first to arrive, Zanya following close behind. Arwan stood and walked toward them. Her eyes were red and glossed over, no doubt from crying.
Zanya stared over his shoulder. He turned to see the seeker walking toward them. Arwan’s jaw tightened. If the seeker were smart, he’d watch every word that came out of his mouth.
Arwan’s attention snapped back to Zanya. He sensed her heartbeat now in rapid fire.
Something was wrong.
“She has a small problem with panicking,” Tara said discretely. Zanya swayed on her feet. “Okay, maybe not so small.” Tara steadied Zanya. “Just think of something else—one of your music pieces. What’s the name of that one you like so much, from that Gadsuit song?”
Zanya clutched her chest. “The Gadfly Suite.”
“Whatever. Think of that.”
Jayden pushed between them. Arwan stepped aside, more for Zanya's sake than anything. They may have needed the seeker’s help, but if he caused any problems, Arwan wouldn’t hesitate to force him to leave. A part of him wanted it to come down to that.
“Zanya.” Jayden leaned and spoke in a low voice. “I know this is a lot for you, but I can explain if you just give me a chance.”
Zanya jerked away from his touch. Arwan stepped closer. “Not right now.” Zanya clung to Tara. “I really need to sit down.”
As she walked toward the sitting area, the seeker grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “Zanya, I—”
Arwan clenched Jayden’s forearm so tight, the color flooded from his knuckles. The seeker let go of Zanya, his eyes narrowed at the vise grip.
“She said no.” Arwan silently dared him to protest. His mother had told him to protect the guardian, and he would, against anyone.
Jayden’s sharp gaze met his. “I suggest you let go of me, right now.”
Arwan tightened his grip. “Or what?”
“Gentlemen.” Arwan looked over his shoulder at Renato, who stood beside his desk, pipe in hand. “Shall we get started?”
Arwan released the seeker. Jayden gave one last threatening glare, then turned back to Zanya. “We’ll talk later, when we have a little more privacy.”
They all sat—everyone on edge and waiting for an explanation. Renato finally broke the silence. “As you are all aware, the seeker has arrived.”
“Excuse me,” Tara eyed Jayden like some kind of alien life form. “But what is a seeker, exactly?”
Jayden laced his fingers and leaned forward. “A seeker can see someone, even if they’re far away. Not the past or the future. I can only see what’s happening right now, in the present—anyone at any time, the only restriction being that I need to have a solid memory of that person. They call it seeking.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me who you are?” Zanya said.
“I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“First of all, you never would have believed me. How was I supposed to tell you I can see people who are thousands of miles away? You would’ve thought I was crazy.”
“At least I wouldn’t think you’re a liar.” Her words were laced with clear resentment. The seeker looked away. “So you ran away from the orphanage, and then what? Renato said he asked for help, so how does he know you? And how did you know who I am? I mean, who I really am?”
Arwan’s shoulders grew heavy with dread. Everyone in the room understood what she meant, but only he and Renato knew the depth of their search for her. How much it took, and how many people were involved.
“I was sure you were the guardian from years of tracking,” Renato explained, “but until Jayden reported back with the confirmation, and I then confirmed myself when I posed as your music teacher, I couldn’t be sure. You have to understand.” Renato ran his hands down his face, fatigue deepening the creases etched around his eyes. “All of the false leads. All of the years of searching, wasted. We had to be sure.”
Zanya shifted in her seat, her gaze darting from Jayden to Renato. “What do you mean he had to—” Zanya lips parted.
Arwan had never been truly disappointed in his mentor, but setting her up for this wasn’t right. Even if it was a small sacrifice for the greater good.
“You planted Jayden in the orphanage to spy on me?” Her voice cracked.
Jayden slid to the edge of his seat. “Zanya, it’s not like that.”
“How could you?” She shot out of her chair, glaring viciously at Renato. “You told Jayden to get close to me. To make me care about him just so he could identify me? And then…” She covered her mouth with her hand. A tear rolled over the bumps of her fingers. She looked at Jayden. “That’s how you left. You never really cared.”
***
Zanya
Zanya ran out of the study, through the house, and all the way to the beach. She sprinted as quickly as she could, pouring her anger and confusion int
o fueling her feet to move faster than she thought possible.
Once she passed the cliffs, she slowed her pace. Her lungs burned, and a sharp pain stabbed into her ribs. Ahead of her were caves, casting a shadow over the sparkling sand. The gaping mouth of the entrance greeted her with an eerie chill. Nearly as tall as a two-story building, it was an enormous hole with only darkness to fill it.
She huffed and sat on a rock near the opening. Some alone time was good. Necessary, even. Her life had gone from a nightmare to a fairytale, to being the punch line of a cruel joke.
The first boy she’d ever loved was a spy. He probably never even cared about her. It was all just part of the job. A searing pain thrashed through her chest as she remembered how badly it hurt when he left. Just like that, in the middle of the night. No good-bye. No explanation. She lived in a haze of shock for weeks after, though in hindsight, the shock was better than the tidal wave of emotions that followed. She’d take shock any day.
She rested her hand over her heart and hung her head. None of it mattered now. She didn’t know him anymore. Maybe she never had.
Zanya picked up a few pebbles and tossed them into the sea. The last one was light, dry, and porous. She held it up and rolled it between her fingers. Driftwood maybe. She buried her feet into the silky sand and unearthed more shards like it. Her foot bumped into a large piece, and she pulled it up, only to drop it back to the ground.
Long bones, buried in the sand—splintered, chewed, and very much human.
Bile rose in her throat. She jumped and frantically teetered over the maze of uneven rocks, but lost her balance and slammed to the ground.
Wheezing seeped from deep inside the cave’s darkness. A foul stench filled the air. Her heart dropped at the sight of a brown, shriveled form crawling into the sunlight. It dragged its body over the jagged rocks. The creature’s white, veiny eyes darted about in search of its target.
Zanya screamed and bolted in the opposite direction. She made it only a few steps before it caught her by the ankle and yanked her back down. Dragging her through the sand, its gurgles formed into barely discernible words. “Ssstone Guard-ian.” Thousands of pointed, stained teeth lined the inside of its mouth like a monstrous shark. The beast stood to the height of two men, its bony chest sunken in, covered with thick skin that was wrinkled and split.
Zanya screamed and kicked, trying to break free as it dragged her toward its froth-smeared jaws.
A booming voice sounded like a clap of thunder. “Muertos vivientes!” Arwan stood with his weapon—a long, wooden stick with a curved blade on the end, glinting with the sun’s reflection. The creature released her ankle and dragged its long arms back to its body.
“Who has raised you?” Arwan demanded.
The monster’s voice slithered from between its teeth. “Sarian brought me forth.”
“Sarian doesn’t have the power to bring minions into the middleworld.”
“He demands the guard-ian. We know where you hiiide.”
Arwan stepped to the edge of the cliff. “I hide from no one.” He leaped off the edge and landed in the sand with perfect form. The beast lashed out, and Arwan ran toward it, whipping his weapon in circles. The blade landed in its intended target and sliced open the monster’s chest, leaving a gaping wound.
It hissed and recoiled. Spittle flew from its mouth as it snapped at Arwan with a twist of its bony neck.
“Zanya, run!”
He charged the beast a second time and, with a leaping strike, planted the blade deep into its hide. The creature gargled and spewed out spouts of black slime. Just as it seemed to be dying, its gargles morphed into a sinister laugh. “It is hard to kill—what is al-ready dead.” It gripped the weapon with its clawed fingers and yanked it out. The minion ran its long tongue along the edge of the blade, slurping its own putrid blood.
Zanya's feet were rooted in the sand, frozen with fear.
“Zanya, I said run. Go back to the house!”
The beast took advantage of the moment of distraction and dug its talons into Arwan’s back. He shouted and arched his spine, then fell to the ground.
Zanya screamed and stumbled. Her breath hitched erratically, her head spinning. The undead creature was exactly like the ones in her dreams. Her nightmares. She gripped her chest and squirmed against the urge to lie down, batting at the fog creeping along the edges of her vision from yet another panic attack.
Lying on the sand, her mind floated between darkness and light until she could no longer tell what was real. She lifted her head to see the blurry figure of Arwan still battling the monster.
He picked himself up off the ground, his shirt soaked in crimson. As the demon crawled toward her, entrails dragged behind it, its lower half completely missing.
Against the will of her failing body, Zanya clawed at the ground and fought to get to her feet. The creature hurled itself on top of her and sank its teeth into her thigh. Searing heat spiked up her leg, and a metallic taste coated her tongue. She swung drunken punches in a feeble attempt to fight back.
Arwan mounted the creature and plunged his weapon through the back of its skull. The blade broke through its eye socket, nearly slicing into her leg. Black oozed dripped from its wound. The minion withdrew its teeth and thrashed its head side to side.
She tried to stand, but her leg was too badly mangled. A trail of blood stained the sand scarlet. Then, the rush of sick heat. It washed over her. Through her. Coiled itself around every muscle. It pulsed through every vein until her entire body was flooded with the sickness.
Zanya collapsed and heaved. Her leg tightened and seized.
Arwan speared the beast a second time, leaving it skewered and pinned to the ground.
Even with fuzzy vision, she watched Arwan continue to battle the beast.
Strong hands rested on either of her cheeks and Renato’s fuzzy features came into her view. “You must fight to stay conscious.” He drew his sword and ran into battle, slicing through the demon’s neck with one swift downward strike, and sending its head rolling into the sea.
The monster’s body went limp. It lay still before the remains sank into the earth, leaving only a black, sticky stain on the ground.
Zanya shivered and held herself tighter. It was so cold. The sickness coursed through her, and she broke out in a sweat. Sounds, smells, everything was dull.
Arwan scooped her into his arms and ran down the beach. As her vision faded, she blinked through the fog at his beautiful face.
Tired. So tired. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the lullaby of his heartbeat, then closed her eyes and drifted away.
***
Arwan
“Is she going to be all right?” Worry tore through Arwan’s tone, accentuated by underlying rage that he couldn’t cage. He paced beside Zanya, who lay unconscious on the healing bed.
Peter dabbed her wound with ointment. “I think so, but if you don’t let me heal you, you won’t be.”
“I’m fine.” Arwan rolled his shoulder, flinching from the dry blood that pulled at his skin. “I wasn’t bitten. It’s a scratch.”
Tara, who had been silent since Zanya was brought in, sat in the corner, nervously bouncing her foot. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. “When will we know for sure?”
Arwan tightened his fists as he paced. Her heartbeat was weak. He could hear that much. If she died, if Sarian took the only person he was destined to protect…A low growl vibrated in his chest. He closed his throat, cutting it off before anyone could hear.
Peter dropped more bloodstained gauze into the trash. “As soon as I see this wound close up I’ll feel better. Right now it’s refusing to heal.”
Tara’s bottom lip quaked. “What does that mean?” Tears streamed down her face.
“It just means I have to do a really good job cleaning it before I try to heal it again. There are all kinds of broken teeth and sand embedded in the bite wound. I think the minion’s saliva is like a corrosive. It’s eating aw
ay at her flesh.”
“Spend only as much energy as you can,” Renato said. “If you can’t get it to mend, we’ll have to figure something else out. Healing takes energy. We cannot have two ill for the price of one.”
Peter turned his back to Tara and stepped close to Renato, speaking in a low voice. Arwan’s hearing was fine tuned enough to listen from across the room, no matter how low Peter whispered. “If I can’t get it to mend, she’ll die. I have to keep going.”
Renato frowned. “Do you think it’s coming to that?”
“Not if I can get it clean before infection sets in.” He turned back to Zanya. “How the hell did this even happen?” Peter returned to his seat and used long-nosed tweezers to pick debris out of the gash.
“That’s a good question.” Arwan stood beside Peter, watching him work. “It said Sarian brought him to the middleworld. We all know that’s not possible.”
Not unless he had help.
Renato rubbed his hand over his five o’clock shadow. “You don’t think he had anything to do with this?”
“That’s exactly what I think. We all know Sarian doesn’t have clearance for something that big. Even as a general, he needs permission, and minions aren’t easy to replace. Especially one like that.”
“What are you talking about?” Peter said. “You think one of the underworld gods did him a favor?”
Arwan ignored the question. Though Renato was well aware of what this could mean, there was only so much the others should know.
Renato exhaled and dropped his gaze. “We need to find out whose bones those were. There is a local family who is missing a loved one.”
“Only one?” Peter asked.
Renato nodded. “Thank God for that.”
Arwan slumped against the wall. “Sarian’s becoming impatient.”
“Maybe that’ll work in our favor. Maybe he’ll expose himself more. Be more accessible—Damn it!” Peter shot up, thrashing his hand in the air. He stripped off his latex glove and threw it on the floor. The glove sizzled and disintegrated.
Mayan Blood Page 10
