“I’ll help you get back to the village. After that…there are things I have to finish. People who will want answers from me about the team.”
“Answers that none of us can give without losing our credibility.”
With a brusque exhale, he said, “Credibility.”
He thought of all who had been lost to the demon and said, “Will our credibility bring back all those dead men?”
“No. Nothing can make that right. Ever. But we had nothing to do with that.”
He glanced away and shook his head. “I led them here. To Eztli Etalpalli and this god-forsaken temple.”
She strode across the short distance until she stood right before him. He could still smell her underlying scent, fresh and alive, beneath the muskiness. It took all his control not to reach for her, but then she cradled his jaw and urged him to face her.
“You didn’t know what would be here.”
The images of the maps flashed in his brain along with something else. “You knew.”
She nodded. “Cordero warned of a demon in his journals. He told of how the demon had carried away and eaten his men.”
He relinquished his control and touched her cheek with the pads of his fingers. Her skin was soft and warm. Vital. He couldn’t imagine not ever touching that skin again and yet…
“If you knew of the danger, why did you come?”
She shrugged, almost nonchalantly. “I had to come for you.”
Emotion overrode all logic and rationale. He enveloped her in his arms, every inch of their bodies making contact. With that physical connection, and the sorrowful joy it brought, the nahual energy rose up between them. It enveloped both of them with its strength, charging every cell in their bodies with need. Binding their spirits as their life forces melded, recognizing their souls were meant to be together.
Before it could become more, more than either of them could live or die with, he took a step away, breaking the link.
His body was trembling as was hers, but it had to end here.
“I need to set things to right, Cyn. I don’t know how long that will take.”
“I…”
Cynthia stopped, her throat tight with emotion. Her body abuzz with the feel of Rafe. Of his physical presence. Of the emotions that had swirled around them only moments before.
She wanted to say that she understood, and maybe a part of her did. The logical scientist realized that there would be things he had to do that might keep him away. But the woman wanted to deny what he said. Wanted him to say he would return to her and that somehow they could find a way to be together.
Instead she said nothing, just nodded and left Eztli Etalpalli’s lair with its stench of death and evil.
Left Rafe.
While he might be returning to the village with them, she finally realized that the Rafe she had known and loved was gone to her and that a future with the new Rafe was uncertain.
***
Rafe had David’s arm thrown over his shoulder, supporting his younger brother as they walked from the steam bath to the anteroom of the temple. Dani was at Cynthia’s side and she noticed now that her friend bore a wealth of bruises and some scratches from where Eztli Etalpalli had grabbed her two nights before.
It was Dani and David who paused, almost simultaneously, at the far end of the anteroom and stared down the tunnel to Eztli Etalpalli’s lair.
“We never went down the other hall,” David said and glanced up at his brother.
She could see that Rafe wanted to ask what it mattered what was down that other passage, but he didn’t. Quite frankly, after his many months of imprisonment, David warranted at least that much consideration as compensation for his ordeal. Another few hours in the temple would not change things one way or the other.
With a sympathetic nod, Rafe helped his brother down the tunnel. When it forked, he took the hall that led away from the demon’s lair of death, his lantern held high to illuminate the way.
Cynthia and Dani followed behind, keeping alert in case Eztli Etalpalli hadn’t been the only danger in the temple.
They encountered nothing of consequence as they wound their way along the tunnel, which seemed to take them deeper and deeper into the bowels of the temple. The air grew damp and chilly the farther they traveled. Musty from the humidity deep below ground and the small pools glistening underfoot where water had seeped through the temple walls and collected on the floor. Darkness swallowed up the evidence of their passage, and luckily the path turned out to be the only one to follow. Unlike before, there were no other forks along the way.
Cynthia would have expected more twists and offshoots to discourage any would-be marauders, but then again, maybe Eztli Etalpalli had been enough of a deterrent to invaders.
Even the walls in this area were different, lacking any adornments, as if this tunnel was of no consequence and didn’t rate consideration.
Nearly half an hour had passed in silence when Rafe and David finally stopped. Before them was another large wooden door, barred from outside much as the one to the demon’s lair where Dani and David had been kept prisoner. Eztli Etalpalli had clearly believed no other defense was necessary with her guarding the door.
“Can you stand on your own?” Rafe asked David, and when his brother nodded, he released him and handed him the lantern.
David took a shaky step back to Dani’s side and she slipped her arm around his waist. Because he was so weak that holding up the lantern was difficult, Dani took hold of the light so that they could all see the door clearly.
Rafe shot a look at her and she nodded, worked the bolt on the rifle and brought it to her shoulder to be ready to fire. The gold obsidian blade that had helped kill the demon was tucked into her gun belt, and after a moment’s thought she slung the rifle back over her shoulder and grabbed the dagger instead.
With an accepting nod at her actions, Rafe grabbed the handgun from his holster and with it in hand approached the door.
He easily lifted the wooden beam from across the front of the door and tossed it aside. It landed softly against the dirt of the tunnel floor. The door creaked loudly when Rafe first moved it and seemed to be stiff, as if it had been some time since it had been opened. He had to shoulder it aside forcefully to fully open the door.
As he did so, Dani and David approached with the lantern.
Dani handed Rafe the lantern. He took it in his free hand and glanced back at her and she understood.
They would take this step together.
Rafe and Cynthia moved through the door almost as one, and inside, Rafe held the lantern high as Dani and David immediately rushed in to join them. All four paused just a foot into the room, the sight of the treasures before them stunning them motionless.
Piles and piles of gold, jewels and other riches reflected back the light of the lantern.
The room was the size of a football field and rose about two stories high. The treasures within filled most of the floor space and were stacked to about ten feet above the ground. Small paths ran amid the mounds of precious artifacts. Here and there a crude mannequin wore vestments that were adorned with gold, silver and jewels. Other mannequins boasted armorlike articles made completely from the precious metals and gems.
A city of gold, Cynthia thought and glanced at her partners.
They fanned out to examine the various objects and she soon realized that the artifacts within the room were from a number of different cultures. Spanish. Aztec. Mayan. Pre-Colombian.
Priceless, it occurred to her as she slowly walked back to the entrance of the room and was joined once again by Rafe and the others.
So many riches yet there was only one thing they could do with them.
***
Cynthia stared at thick pile of pages comprising the inventory list from the temple. It had taken them weeks to catalogue all the treasures they had found in Eztli Etalpalli’s City of Gold and even longer for them to lay down the groundwork for a full excavation and restoration of the temp
le and city walls surrounding it.
Nearly two months had passed since she had seen Rafe, who had been busy dealing with the authorities investigating the deaths of his team and making the arrangements to bring the men home to their families. Contacting their loved ones to explain what had happened.
Although what could he explain that they would believe? she thought, recalling her own team’s reticence to discuss the existence of the demon. Booth and Rogers had waited back at the village, waiting for Hernandez to be stronger and intending to go back to civilization for more help if she and Rafe had not returned in a reasonable time. But she was certain that none of them would say a word about the demon and risk their standing in the archaeological community.
She got the sense that the Mexican authorities hadn’t pressed too deeply about the deaths, apparently aware of the many tales over the years of how people went missing in that area. She only hoped that the family members would accept whatever rationale Rafe and the authorities had decided to use to explain the deaths.
Thumbing through the pages of the inventory again, she realized that once the museum and the Mexican government got the bulk of the items, what remained would be divided between her team and Rafe’s as per agreed-upon finder’s fee. She had convinced her team, however, to donate a part of their portion to the families of the dead men and to the two villages where they had been welcomed during their travels to the temple.
None had hesitated, especially considering that even though they were only getting a small portion of the treasure, there had been so much that their shares were still worth a great deal of money.
She intended to give a large share of her spoils to villages and to the two women who had presented her with the dagger that had saved their lives. As for the dagger—she shot a quick look across the way to the bookshelf in her office where the gold obsidian blade rested in a case she’d had specially made to hold the item.
A knock came at the door and she called out, “Come in,” expecting it to be Dani, who was supposed to review the inventory with her one last time before they passed it up the bureaucratic chain for processing.
Instead Rafe walked in.
Her heart skittered in her chest and her breath caught for a moment before she forced herself to breathe.
Rafe was dressed in a charcoal gray suit whose fabric strained against the massive width of his shoulders. The suit’s color made his hair seem even darker, with blue-black highlights that gleamed beneath the ceiling lights in her office. The longish waves of his hair brushed the collar of his jacket. He wore a brilliant white shirt with a rather conservative blue-and-gray-striped tie. The brightness of the shirt was a marked contrast to the tan he had from his many months in the strong Mexican sun.
She rose as he strode toward her desk and stood there, a large package wrapped in brown paper and twine tucked tight beneath his arm. He crossed his hands before him and laced his fingers together as if to keep from reaching for her.
“You look well,” he said and just the sound of his voice strummed alive passion in her body.
“So do you,” she replied and held out her hand to invite him to sit. Awkwardness filled the air considering how they had parted, with both of them uncertain about their future together. In the long weeks of separation, she had missed him intensely but had not reached out to him, afraid of rejection. Leery of his new powers. Almost as equally scared that she craved what he had become way too much.
She wanted to reach out to him now. Take him into her arms and find out if the bond between them was still strong. Still alive.
But she didn’t move, telling herself she needed him to make the first move while chastising herself that he had by walking into her office.
He shifted the package from beneath his arm and held it out to her with both hands, foreclosing any belated action she might make.
She shot him a quizzical look and he explained. “Medicine Eagle heard about your generosity in giving away such a large part of your reward and asking your expedition to share theirs with the villages. He wanted to thank you for that and for ridding his people of Eztli Etalpalli.”
“And this is his way to say thanks?” she asked and took the package into her hands. It was heavy, the material within the wrapping dense, making her wonder at was beneath the simple brown paper.
She carefully placed the package in the center of her desk and stood there, considering it uncomfortably as Rafe took a seat. His body was poised on the edge of the chair, forearms on his thighs and hands laced together once again as he leaned forward, clearly anticipating what she would do.
Carefully she snipped off the twine and then unfolded the brown parcel paper to reveal the leather-bound journal within.
She ran her hands over the surface, experiencing the sensation of old. Savoring the patina on the leather from the many hands that had touched it over the centuries for she had no doubt that the journal was quite old.
Because of its apparent age, she sat and removed a pair of gloves from her top desk drawer and slipped them on to safeguard the journal. Gingerly she opened the tome and slowly turned the thick parchment pages. As she skimmed the entries in the chronicle, she realized that it dated back before Cordero’s diary.
With anticipation, she examined the notations with their scratchy script and beautifully drawn sketches detailing early scenes of Mayan life. About a dozen pages into the book, she noted the map pinpointing the locations of various Mayan cities in lower South America, including one position with which she was not familiar.
“What is this?” she asked, jabbing at a spot on the hand-drawn map with her gloved finger.
Rafe stood and peered down at the journal. A small smile came to his face as he said, “I had hoped you’d pick up on that. As best as I can tell, it’s a sister city to Machu Picchu.”
“A sister city?” She racked her brains but could not recollect a mention of any such location from any of the materials she had studied over the years.
“And not just any old Mayan development,” he said and continued with his explanation. “Apparently Ponce de Leon was looking on the wrong continent.”
He sat on the edge of her desk and reached for the journal. Flipping ahead a few pages, he then returned it to her and motioned to one of the entries. “But I could be misreading the entries, which is why I brought it to you.”
Cyn peered down at the journal and read through the entry detailing the wonders to be found at the Mayan city, including the fountain that De Leon had sought so eagerly.
“The entry claims that this sister city has a fountain of youth.” She leaned back in her chair and considered him, trying to gauge his demeanor, which up until now had been mostly serious except for that earlier hint of a smile.
Now a broader grin broke out on his lips. “I think it’s more like the center of a power source rumored to provide all kinds of healing energies.”
She was prepared to tell him he was crazy but reminded herself about the man-eating demon they had both barely escaped months earlier as well as Rafe’s unusual new powers. In comparison, a source of healing energy didn’t seem all that far-fetched.
“So what do you plan to do with this information?” She motioned to the journal.
He shook his head and pointed at her. “Not me. You. The gift was made to you.”
She skimmed her fingers over the pages, once again relishing the age of them. Knowing that any tests she ran would be wasted, because she had no doubt about the authenticity of the journal, although she still would follow protocol and confirm the provenance of the document. But as she met Rafe’s inquiring gaze, she also knew she had no doubt about something else.
“Do you think we should go find this fountain of youth?”
He shrugged, appearing noncommittal, but a twinkle grew in his dark gaze and the grin remained as he said, “Only if you think you can spend life eternal with me afterward.”
She thought about all that had happened in the last few months. About all the changes.<
br />
She considered this possible new adventure and that it might bring yet more mayhem into her life. But as Rafe moved toward her and cupped her cheek, ran his thumb across her lips, the buzz of energy arced between them, awakening desire. Reminding her of what would be missing from her life if she didn’t take another risk and embark on this journey.
“So when do we leave?” she asked as she rose from her chair and walked to stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of her desk.
He chuckled, glanced at his watch and said, “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Tomorrow? Why so long a wait?” she teased and dragged her fingers through the thick locks of his hair.
He grasped her hips and gently urged her into the V formed by his legs. They were face-to-face thanks to the difference in their heights, and he rubbed his lips against hers and said, “It’s tomorrow, because I want to spend the rest of this day making love to you.”
Heat erupted across her body as she imagined having him in bed. Having him inside her, but not just for tonight. For life eternal as he had said earlier.
“Sounds like a plan,” she confirmed and opened her mouth to his. Embraced him in her arms and knew one thing: The best adventure of her life was just about to begin.
About the Author
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling paranormal and romantic suspense author Caridad Piñeiro wrote her first novel in the fifth grade when her teacher assigned a project—to write a book for a class lending library. Bitten by the writing bug, Caridad continued with her passion for the written word through high school, college and law school. In 1999, Caridad’s first novel was released and a decade later, Caridad is the author of over twenty novels and novellas. When not writing, Caridad is an attorney, wife and mother to an aspiring writer and fashionista. For more information on Caridad, please visit www.caridad.com or www.thecallingvampirenovels.com.
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