The Night Series - Entire Series Boxed Set : New World Immortal Mayan Vampire Romance

by Lisa Kessler

He straightened and shook his head. Gretchen nearly died, and instead of comforting her, he kissed her.

  “I’m sorry, Gretchen. I shouldn’t have…”

  “No.” She reached up to brush his hair back gently. “Please don’t apologize.”

  “You’ve been through so much today.”

  A soft smile warmed her lips, and she shook her head. How could she be so calm? She’d nearly taken her own life a few hours ago, and now she sought to comfort him. Where did she find the strength? She amazed him.

  “You don’t understand, Lukas,” she said quietly. “My feelings for you saved my life today, and I think you feel the same way about me.”

  He stared into her eyes, more torn than he’d ever been. He’d lied to her for so long about his nature and about his reasons for studying the Night Walkers. She’d thought they were stories, Mayan myths. She had no idea she shared a tent with one of their brethren.

  He had no right to love her, and he definitely didn’t deserve her love in return.

  She would never believe the truth of his nature. Not that it mattered—they had no future together—but to deny his feelings for her would break her heart. Admitting his feelings wouldn’t be much better. She’d end up cherishing a love that could never blossom.

  No family, no children, no sunlight. Gretchen deserved better than he could ever give her.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, pulling back from his arms. “You don’t feel the same…”

  Before he could find his voice, Gretchen got up and closed herself in the bathroom. He heard her turn on the sink to mask the sound of her fresh tears. Hearing her cry was more than he could bear. He couldn’t lie to her anymore.

  Lukas rose from the bed and tapped on the door. Hearing no response, he reached out and cranked the handle, snapping the lock on the bathroom door.

  She hurried to wipe her eyes, wrapping a towel around herself. “I thought I locked the door.”

  “You did.”

  “Then how did you—” Her brow creased.

  “Get dressed,” Lukas replied quietly. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  Issa loped through the rainforest, his body now that of his jaguar, breaking through the vines and underbrush of the jungle with the speed of the gods themselves. He could see well in the darkness, but right now he searched with his mind, not his eyes.

  Ch’en, Goddess of the Moon. He wasn’t certain he would recognize her. Would her features still be the same, or would she look different in this lifetime?

  Her face remained etched in his memory forever. Her long, black hair had swirled around her head, while the lightning above sparkled in her dark-brown eyes, exposing the crescent of light in the bottom of her right iris. Her full lips were pressed together, determined. Even facing a horrible death, she had never faltered from her path. Instead of weeping and begging for her life, she’d offered it willingly, sacrificing herself to spare the lives of her people. He could still feel the kiss she placed on his cheek and hear the words she whispered directly into his mind:

  Do not mourn me. And when I live again, protect me from my destiny. Do not let me call the Demon. Do not allow me to make the same mistake, my friend.

  He remembered watching her place a similar kiss on the cheek of each of his brothers while he pondered her words. How he had wished there could be some other way to end Camalotz’s terror, some way to spare Ch’en’s life.

  She had lain down on the altar of her own free will, her silky hair spilling over the edge of the bloodstained stone—the picture of sacrificial beauty. Jungle flowers adorned her hair, with a matching necklace of fragrant white blossoms lying against her chest, resting upon the swell of her breasts. Soon they would be red, and the Goddess of the Moon would be no more.

  Unlike the holy sacrifices offered to the Gods during the equinox, there were no spectators that night. The rites were chanted without responses from the Mayan people, and her hands and feet were not bound. For the first time in a thousand years, the God of the West had found himself dreading the moment he would tear out a still-beating heart.

  But the Demon had to be stopped. Nothing else had worked. They had tried using ancient magic, calling upon other gods. Even hand-to-hand combat had proved unsuccessful.

  Camalotz nearly ripped Kane’s heart from his chest when he’d attacked her. Issa’s brother still carried the scar as a reminder, and creating the Guardian to be her mate only slowed her feasting.

  The killing didn’t end, as they’d hoped.

  Camalotz was indestructible, a pure Demon decimating the Mayan people. Their people. Since executing the Demon proved impossible, their only hope was to contain her, to keep her trapped deep inside the earth, never to walk the mortal world again.

  Only Ch’en’s blood that first summoned Camalotz into this world could seal the Demon’s prison, locking her away from the human lives she craved. But as lightning seared the moonlit sky that night over a thousand years ago, Issa had wished there could be another way.

  The Goddess of the Moon looked up at him from her funeral bed on the stone altar, uttering the ancient words to call the Demon, asking Camalotz to follow her to the other side. Her eyes shone with the dazzling light that flashed above them. He steeled his heart and drew back his hand.

  Preparing to destroy such beauty was no easy task—and the fact that he loved her made his torment unbearable. But his people depended on him. His hand claimed the sacrifices. It had to be him, and Ch’en offered her body—and her blood—willingly.

  His fate was sealed. He’d plunged his powerful arm down, his hand cracking through her ribcage to grip the pulsing organ inside. She started to scream, but the roar of thunder and the howl of rushing wind stole the sound. Blood sprayed from her chest cavity, covering them both in a thick, crimson sheen. Her lids fluttered shut as the immortal life drained from them, leaving her lips parted in an eternal silent scream.

  Issa had spun around, unable to look at her any longer, regret binding his chest, knotting inside of him. His brothers tossed her lifeless body into the cenote that led to the center of the earth, but Ch’en’s heart still remained in his hand. It wouldn’t follow her to the afterlife.

  They failed to tell Ch’en that her heart would not be sacrificed with her body. The plan to try to stop her spirit from being reborn had been kept secret, guaranteeing that Camalotz would remain caged, and Ch’en could never live again to call the Demon into the mortal world.

  But now, despite their efforts, Ch’en lived. Perhaps her reincarnation was inevitable, but to awaken the Demon and unleash her from her prison, Ch’en would have to possess immortal power.

  And no one, aside from the four immortal brothers, was born a Night Walker.

  Someone needed to change her, and so few of his kind still existed.

  Questions filled his head, but he had no time to stop and ponder the possible answers. Camalotz kept feeding, and with every death, her influence widened.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gretchen walked along the sidewalk on the edge of the bay without saying a word. What could she say? She felt like an idiot.

  When Lukas finally stopped, she turned to face the bay and leaned against the railing overlooking the water. She closed her eyes and inhaled the cool sea breeze. It caressed her face but did nothing to soothe her aching heart.

  She didn’t look at Lukas, let alone speak to him. When he held her earlier, she’d been so sure he felt the same way she did, and when he kissed her… She’d never been kissed like that before, lingering, seducing, sensual. It said I love you without ever saying a word. Or at least that’s how it had felt to her. But apparently she read more into it than Lukas had intended. If he didn’t feel anything romantic toward her, then why did he kiss her in the first place?

  If he just wanted sex, he would’ve tried to get intimate back in the rainforest months ago. They’d been living together in close quarters in the Yucatan, and there had only been a few times he’d ever let his guard down, let her see who he reall
y was inside.

  She sighed, adjusting the silk scarf that covered the scratches and bruises around her neck. Guessing what Lukas might be thinking left her mentally exhausted. Not to mention raised her frustration level. Finally, she glanced his way. The wind blew through his thick, brown hair, pulling at the collar of his shirt and teasing her with the sight of his broad shoulders hidden underneath the fabric.

  Why did he have to be so freaking good-looking? Statues of Greek gods couldn’t compare.

  She’d never been so attracted to a man before. Normally she wasn’t swayed by looks—she was long past being an infatuated teenager. She’d been with Lukas for months and seen him at his best and his worst. And she still felt that pull.

  She loved the way he tried to hide his Russian accent, and how it crept back into his voice when he got agitated or cursed under his breath. She loved how he stared at her in the moonlight when he thought she wasn’t watching, and the way he always let her finish speaking before he added his thoughts on a certain idea or hypothesis.

  They had a mutual respect for one another that she’d never known before. Most of the scientists she’d worked with were men, and most of them had difficulty seeing her as an equal. But not Lukas.

  After she made such an idiot of herself back at the hotel, she wondered if he’d ever look at her again.

  Right on cue, Lukas turned to face her. The emotion in his gaze left her speechless, and when he brought his hand up to caress her cheek her knees went weak.

  “Of course I’ll look at you again, Gretchen. Seeing you smile is like the sun shining on my face.”

  She opened her mouth to reply when she suddenly tilted her head. “How did… You knew what I was thinking…”

  He nodded slowly.

  Her brow creased. “How? Mind reading?” Her mind whirled with the possibilities. “It’s not possible.”

  His thumb brushed gently over her cheek and his eyes held hers. His fingers were so cool against her skin she nearly shivered.

  “Are you sure?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. You can read other people’s thoughts?”

  “Among other things.”

  Her mind raced between curiosity and disbelief with each beat of her heart. Part of her wanted to believe he was pulling her leg, but Lukas had never been one to play games.

  “Other things?” Gretchen stared up at him, watching the moonlight dance within the green of his eyes.

  “Many other things.” His hand lowered away from her face as he spoke. “I probably should have told you the truth a long time ago.”

  Her heart sank, and she braced herself. Whatever he had to say, it obviously wasn’t going to be good.

  “The truth about what?” she asked.

  “About me… About who and what I am.”

  She frowned and took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

  “I should have told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how.” Lukas sighed, looking out at the horizon.

  She watched him, trying to keep quiet and listen without passing judgment, but it was difficult. As an archeologist, she’d learned long ago never to judge another culture by her own, and instead to learn from other people. But she was too close to Lukas. It made it difficult to keep her feelings in check.

  He’d been lying to her. Again.

  “Please understand, Gretchen. I never meant for us to become friends. I thought I did the right thing by hiding my nature from you. I would never hurt you intentionally.”

  “You’re talking without saying anything. Just tell me what’s going on. Tell me the truth.”

  When he finally looked at her, the pain in his eyes terrified her. What was he hiding?

  “The truth is I’m not an archeologist.”

  Gretchen let out a nervous chuckle and shook her head. “God, you scared me. I thought you were about to tell me you’re married or a criminal or something.”

  “No, I’ve never been married or in jail.”

  Her smile faded when she realized he didn’t look relieved. In fact, he was staring at her like he might never see her again.

  “The reason I’ve been studying the Night Walker carvings we found in Mexico is because…I am one.”

  “One what?” But the pieces were already falling into place in her mind. “You think you’re a Night Walker? Like the priests in the carvings? That’s just… It’s just crazy.”

  “Is it?” he said quietly. “Have you ever seen me during the day?”

  “No, but you’re always out working.”

  “Don’t I usually work at night?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He laid a finger tenderly over her lips to silence her. “Stop making excuses for my behavior.” He lowered his hand. “I’m sleeping when the sun is up, Gretchen. Think with your head instead of your heart, and you’ll see I’m telling you the truth. No man can work twenty-four hours a day. If I work all night, I must sleep all day.”

  He was right. She’d been making excuses for him for months. On some level she’d known she was the only one eating their rations. Occasionally, she made sure Lukas left with food, but usually he forgot. She told herself he probably hunted for his food, or that she’d somehow miscounted the containers of kipper snacks and beef jerky and he’d actually taken more than a few.

  And when he never slept in the tent, she figured he was working, maybe napping in the jungle now and again. She saw only what she wanted to see, and she ignored the evidence that would show her the contrary conclusion: Lukas was not what he appeared to be.

  “I need to sit down.”

  He nodded and helped her to a nearby bench overlooking the bay. The orange hue of the gas lamps stole the color from their faces and their clothes. Gretchen found the monotone coloring comforting. They both looked alike, no sign that Lukas wasn’t human.

  “You don’t eat food, do you?”

  Lukas shook his head slowly. “No.”

  She pressed her lips together, trying to corral the stampede of questions. “The scientist in me wants to pepper you with questions so I can learn about your race, but the woman in me doesn’t want to hear the answers. That part of me would rather go on making excuses for why you’re different and pretend you’re just a man.”

  Lifting her chin, he brought her gaze up to meet his and whispered, “I’m sorry things can’t be different.”

  Gretchen stared into his eyes for a moment. She’d never been drawn to a man like she was to Lukas. But he isn’t a man.

  “How did this happen?” She gestured toward him. “How did you become a Night Walker?”

  Lukas kept his voice even, bracing himself for her reaction. “I ingested the blood of another Night Walker. I haven’t identified the scientific process yet, but something in the blood mutates a human’s chemistry until their body craves blood to sustain itself. My maker called himself a Night Walker, but I’m still searching for where we came from and why.” He stopped himself short of admitting the answer he truly searched for: an end to his immortal life.

  The raw hurt in her eyes faded as the scientist inside her awoke. He could almost see the calculations forming in Gretchen’s mind. Her curious nature was winning out over her concern. He was grateful for her questions; he only wished there were easy answers.

  “Do you consider yourself a god?” she asked.

  Lukas raised a brow with a crooked smile. “Should I?”

  The sound of her laughter warmed him more than mortal blood ever could. He watched her shake her head with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I only asked because the glyphs we translated referred to the Night Walkers as either gods or priests. I wondered which one you might be.”

  “I’m neither.” His smile faded. “I was a mistake, Gretchen.”

  Confusion filled her gaze. “A mistake?”

  “Yes.” He nodded and stared out at the water. “The man I came to San Diego to see, Calisto, is my maker. He went by Gregorio in those days, living
with the Kumeyaay tribe as their kuseyaay. Their healer. He saved me after a rattlesnake bit my leg. I think he thought by having me drink his blood it would cure the venom that poisoned my bloodstream. He was a new Night Walker himself and didn’t realize I would become a Night Walker, too.”

  “How could he not know?”

  “I didn’t stay with him long enough to ask.” Lukas shrugged. “I was a different man back then. Superstitious, fanatical about my religious beliefs.” He rested his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands. “I ran away before he could tell me much of anything.”

  “You ran away? Why?”

  “I went mad, Gretchen.” He straightened, rubbing the heel of his palm to his temple. “I was raised to fear God, but I feared Satan and his demons even more. The one who made me taught me to attract animals and feed from them.” He met her eyes, feeling more like a monster with every word he uttered. “I don’t know if the snake venom was responsible, but my thirst for blood was never satisfied. My body ached for more, and in less than a week of being changed, I killed a man.”

  Lukas got up, standing at the railing. He looked out at the ocean, unable to face her any longer. “I went to the Mission De Alcala but I couldn’t be cleansed and forgiven because I couldn’t confess. How could I tell a priest I had mauled a native man and drank his blood? I couldn’t. Each night I tried to fight the urge to drink human blood, and each night my thirst demanded more.”

  Gretchen didn’t reply. He stole a glance over at her. She still sat on the bench, but her eyes looked far away, lost in thought. Lukas remained quiet, fighting the urge to peer into her mind to see what she pondered. He asked her to believe the unbelievable. The least he could do was offer her the time to process it all. But that didn’t make waiting any easier.

  Gretchen’s eyes shifted up to meet his. “You said, ‘back then.’ How long ago did you get the snake bite?”

  “In 1777. Over two hundred years ago.”

  The color drained from her face, and she gnawed gently at her lower lip. Her body language suggested she might bolt at any second, but her green eyes burned with a fiery determination. Her gaze never left his as she stood and came to his side.