They hadn’t stopped more than a minute when a low rumbling filled the earth beneath their feet. The men muttered in Spanish, their voices low with agitation. She knew from earlier experience it must be a mild earthquake. A murmur went up from the men, but since she didn’t understand Spanish, she didn’t know what they said.
El Jaguar glanced at her, his gaze unfathomable. “There is nothing to fear, chica. We have earthquakes like this all the time. My guess is the four-mile giant is awakening.”
“The what?” she asked.
“The volcano twenty miles away. Cerro de Fuego. Fire Ridge. It slumbers no longer. We heard there is a possibility it will erupt.”
As his statement penetrated her exhaustion-filled brain, she said, “Oh my God.”
“There is no warning yet from the authorities in San Cristobal about imminent danger.”
Apprehension snaked into her. “Twenty miles away isn’t far enough if it decides to erupt.”
He nodded. “This is why we need to push onward, chica. Accomplish this before anything else bad can happen.”
She nodded, then thought of something she’d meant to ask him before but just now possessed the courage to say. “Why do you call me chica?”
His grin held a saucy overtone, and she wondered if he meant to flirt with her. “I have this weakness for beautiful women. I compliment them.”
The last thing Keira supposed she should do is smile at her captor, but El Jaguar’s attitude was almost as protective as Zane’s. She doubted he’d hurt her. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. I think I am glad Señor Spinella isn’t here. He would be throwing darts with his eyes right about now.”
“I wish you hadn’t left him tied up like that. I’m worried about him.”
El Jaguar chuckled. “He is probably free and following us right about now.”
She wished she could be as certain. “When we get to this city, what do we do?”
“Replace the rest of La Pasion, of course. Where there was one, there will be two. Both sides of the coin.”
She took another taste of water, then screwed the cap back on the container and handed it back to him. “What happens then?”
El Jaguar’s happiness shone in his eyes, a light in his deep eyes. He rubbed his fingers over the stubble along his chin. “Our tribe will regain the power it lost when the statues were taken. We will once again influence things that happen in and to La Selva Negra. Perhaps we can save our destiny from permanent destruction.”
“You honestly believe two statues will do that for your entire culture?”
El Jaguar nodded. “There are not so many of us. Our population in this country has dwindled down to what you saw in camp. Many of our kind live elsewhere in Central America. They moved away over the years.”
Native populations, once introduced to modernization, often took other roads to prosperity. At the same time, they often lost what made them unique as a people. She couldn’t fault him for wanting a return of power and good fortune to his people.
“Are the carvings in the city like those in the stone circle where Zane and I camped the other night?”
“They are. Does that disturb you?”
Disturbed, yes. But not in the way he might imagine. “They’re very unusual.”
He grinned, a low chuckle coming from his throat. “You mean the sexual content? The fact that they come to life when a couple lies inside their circle and makes love?”
“How did—?” Her lips twitched, and her cheeks flushed. “Uh…yes.”
“Our people see sex as a sacred ceremony that must always be taken to our whole heart. We do not engage in it lightly. Our people use the ancient circle on occasion for ritual. Sexual ritual.”
Interesting concept. “Sex is power. Your people understand that.”
His broad smile held pleasure and admiration. “This is why when the statues are brought together the male and female power innate in sexual energy will be spilled over the land and vitality restored. Our balance will be complete. As of now, the male power dominates the region, and Haan is king.”
“You believe your people are descendants of the ancient ones who lived in the city?”
“We don’t believe it. We know it.” He turned toward her slightly. “We will need the ring when we arrive at the city. One of us will have to place it on your finger and deliver the statue to its rightful place along the other statue of La Pasion.”
Her heart started to pound, but she didn’t have a choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t know where it is.”
His bright-eyed enthusiasm faded, replaced by the frosty eyes of a man who didn’t believe what he heard. “What do you mean?”
“I think I left the ring in my room at Haan’s home.”
He slapped his thigh and the resulting clap and curse made everyone in the group jump. “Damn it all. We need that ring.”
Taking a deep breath, she managed to say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a problem.”
His eyes narrowed menacingly as he stood. “I am not a stupid man. You left the ring on purpose. Why?”
“You know why. I already told you my reaction to the ring and the dizziness it causes. I’m out of control when that ring is on my finger.”
He sighed. “A natural process of wearing the ring. You would have remained unharmed within the temple.”
Keira didn’t care. She wouldn’t be pushed into wearing that ring for anything.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair and stood, impatience now marring his features. He spoke in Spanish to the men and they stood and prepared to move out. They hefted their backpacks.
“The ring belongs in the temple along with La Pasion. All that is sacred remains in the temple.”
She lifted one brow. “Even sex?”
He shifted his feet and retrieved his automatic weapon. He slung the deadly instrument over his shoulder. “There is a sexual ritual performed within the temple. It guarantees youth, happiness, and success to all who participate. It pushes the boundaries of what most people will do. It also ensures stabilization of the land.”
She saw it in his eyes. He wanted her to ask. “All who participate? Is it an orgy?”
“Hardly. It is between one man and one woman.”
She couldn’t believe she was asking this, but what the hell? “What makes it different from plain bread and butter sex?”
“The couple must be in love. It provides protection against all dangers within and without the temple. And it must be witnessed.”
“Witnessed.” The one word didn’t come out as a question, but surprised disbelief. “You’re kidding right?”
“No. The sex must be witnessed by one or more persons.” He started off. “Let us proceed. We must arrive there as sunrise approaches.”
As she fell into step behind him, she wondered if she would see the next day alive or if the mysterious tropical forest would swallow her whole and she’d disappear forever. With every mysterious chattering and squeaking from the forest, trepidation nipped at her heels. She half expected a big cat to leap from the gloom and attack. Grateful for the company of so many, she tried to keep up.
It seemed they walked until hell froze over, until night relented and new sun spilled over the canopy stretching many stories into the sky. As light and heat warmed the land, sweat tickled her skin. Her muscles ached and wooziness fogged her brain after walking a good portion of the night.
As they rounded the corner of a rocky outcropping she wondered if her eyes deceived her. Tall gold and ivory pillars reached from the ground into the sky, their shape almost Grecian or Roman in design. The surfaces, though pitted from age, were remarkably preserved. Along each column sexual scenes decorated the stone. Fascinated, she walked toward one of explicit masts. Tilting her head back, she admired the tall stone as only an archaeologist could. Whoever worked this stone did a remarkable job, as they had on La Pasion. For once her fear of what would happen subsided, and she permitted her curiosity as
a scientist take over.
El Jaguar gestured for the rest of them to hurry. “Not much longer.”
They passed through the twin columns and walked into the thicket another half mile. Nothing prepared her for the beauty, the grandeur of the overgrown city nestled against a deeply cratered side of the plateau. The city huddled into the depression, sheltered from much but relentless morning sunrise. Covered by the never-ending life in the jungle, the accumulation of the centuries of neglect, the city owned an ancient beauty.
Despite the structures’ age, she could see the jungle preserved what time and weather might have destroyed. Spires rose into the sky, none of them higher than the flora that sheltered them. Here kings and queens might have ruled and she almost imagined the sounds of hundreds of inhabitants enjoying their world, going about their daily business.
These buildings didn’t look like photographs she’d seen of ruins in Guatemala, El Salvador, Costa Rica, or Honduras, nor did they appear like those of South American countries. As she stared at the buildings Keira saw a wide undulating swath of darkness pass over the ground near the foot of the ruins. She blinked, then blinked again when the mass writhed and swirled, moving by the buildings in a mad race.
One of the men muttered something. El Jaguar translated. “Army ants. I hope they pass quickly.”
The column of ants passed by in a flash and continued onward. By this time her head hurt and her feet ached. How far they’d marched through thick vegetation, she couldn’t be certain. Long enough for her to feel if she ever survived this she’d never go hiking again. When they reached the base of the city, she admired the huge buildings with awe. Her archaeologist colleagues would never believe this, and she didn’t have a camera to take photos for proof.
The men proceeded ahead of her while El Jaguar took up the rear. She hurried forward, eager to see everything she could.
Before she could make a sound of warning a snake slithered into the path ahead, not three feet from her.
She froze.
She recognized the type of snake and her heart pounded furiously in her chest.
El Jaguar shouted a warning. “Fer-de-lance! Don’t move.”
She didn’t plan on moving, but the snake raced toward her with a furious pace. She gasped, her heart surging into her throat as she realized she didn’t have time to react.
The snake lunged, teeth bared. Teeth tore through her pants at the same time she started to run. Lacerating pain slashed her left shin and she cried out. Anger and disbelief gave her strength as she shook her leg and the snake flopped away into the dirt. A loud pop rang in her ears as someone took a shot at the serpent. It writhed and twitched, its death completed instantly.
El Jaguar grabbed her by the shoulders and then swept her off her feet. Stunned, she allowed him to place her on the ground. He ripped the rest of her pants leg down the seam. Blood marred her shin.
“¡Madre de Dios!” A rapid fire string of Spanish came from him as he dumped his pack and dug around inside it. “Damn it, chica. You’ve done it now.”
“I’ve done it now?” she asked weakly, her stomach curling with illness as she realized the implication of what happened.
The panic, the outright fear wouldn’t penetrate. It didn’t need to. The stark fright in El Jaguar’s eyes spelled the answer for her. She knew as well as he did what would happen. Too far from civilization, she didn’t have a chance. A fer-de-lance’s bite could be fatal within four hours without instant treatment, and even then, severe damage to nerves and tissue would be almost certain.
He ripped a shirt into shreds and tied a tourniquet above the point of the bite, a little ways under her knee. “We must get you to the temple now. It’s your only chance.” He gestured to one of the other men hovering nearby. “Take my pack. I must carry her. We go now! ¡Vamonos!”
Again he swept her into his arms and ran for the temple in the near distance. She wanted, in that moment, for Zane to be the one cradling her in his arms. Before she could feel the intensity of her situation or cry out as pain lanced her flesh, a black cloud obscured her vision and she faded into shadows.
Before night approached for the second time in one day, she thought she heard El Jaguar’s strangled cry. “Chica, don’t do this! ¡Chica!”
* * * * *
Dull throbbing in Zane’s skull aroused him from a semi-stupor. Daylight greeted him as he forced open his eyes. He sucked in a breath and damp, hot air filled his throat. He choked on the feeling, gasping for breath. He swallowed painfully. As he shifted, disoriented as hell, pain rocketed through his right shoulder.
“Damn it.” He groaned. “Damn it all to hell.”
He lay flat on his face, his right cheek pressed into the dirt. Heavy weight pressed on his back. His backpack.
For a terrifying moment he couldn’t remember shit, where he was and how he got there. As the ache in his shoulder throbbed, he peered into the jungle and tried to orient with his surroundings.
He sensed movement, furtive and scurrying. Insects. Small animals. Memory crashed into him full force. He’d been running from Haan’s men, then one of them shot him in the right shoulder and he’d passed out. He should be a dead man. Instead he lay prone and pinned by his backpack. Maybe if he could get to his knees he could at least dump the pack and check his shoulder. It couldn’t be too bad or he probably would have bled out by now.
Obviously he’d been out a long time. With daylight he could make his way with more ease. Even if it meant hiding from Haan’s thugs would be a little harder. Why hadn’t they killed him? They should have been able to locate him after he’d passed out. Stunned by good fortune, he decided conjecture could wait. Locating Keira remained top priority.
He wiggled out of his pack by rolling to the left. With a harsh, pain-filled breath, he clamored to his feet. He checked his shoulder and discovered the bullet hadn’t gone through. He probed the stinging area and realized it amounted to more of a flesh wound, a long drag of the bullet to the right of his shoulder blade. Damned happy for the reprieve, he stripped off his shirt and dug into the first aid kit. After locating a tiny bottle of antiseptic, he poured about half of it onto his shoulder.
Pain seared his skin and he groaned. “Fuck! Hell! Shit!”
At this angle he couldn’t bandage the wound, but he didn’t think it bled copiously. He would have to live with it until he could get help.
Pack reloaded onto his back, he headed into the undergrowth. As he walked he became a little lightheaded, and he wondered if blood loss or if the strange ring had something to do with it. He walked very few miles before the dizziness threatened to tow him under. With a groan of anger he stopped long enough to take a breather. His legs felt like noodles, so he dumped his pack by a log and sat down. Long, deep breaths cleared his head a few minutes later. He slogged down water to assure he didn’t become dehydrated.
While he waited to regain strength, the jungle around him came alive with sounds. A woodpecker assaulted a tree, and birds uttered high-pitch caterwauling. Dew dropped from the vegetation above. He shivered, damp and even a little cold. Deep in his gut new urgency called and he stood, ready for more jungle no matter how unforgiving or dangerous. He pressed onward, his pace relentless regardless of his exhaustion and injury.
Down to his bones he felt it. His woman needed him now.
Zane knew what he’d say when he found her again. She would know, without one doubt, that he loved her. He wanted her with him to the end of his days, his career be damned. If Keira would have him, he was hers.
As time elapsed it dawned on Zane he knew what direction to walk to reach the ancient city. He scarcely hesitated at the pillars where he’d made love to Keira the first time.
More than once he glanced back, still astonished Haan’s men hadn’t located him by now. Unless…unless they followed him with the stealth of wildcats, determined to locate the hidden city and regain possession of La Pasion.
No. He didn’t sense them, and he’d always been bad-ass exce
llent at detecting the enemy approaching from any direction. No, they’d given up searching for him long ago and headed straight for the jungle city. He quickened his pace, blood rushing in his ears, his breathing fast, and muscles burning with exertion. All his resources, mental and physical, worked toward the ultimate goal.
Before too long he passed the waterfall area and headed deeper into the jungle below the San Cristobal Plateau. Sweat ran down his face and his shoulder hurt like hell if he gave it too much thought. His breathing became labored as he took the hillside with a vengeance, determination drawn into his skin and blood and bone. He would find her, no matter how long it took, no matter where they’d taken her. A litany ran through his mind.
Please keep her safe. I don’t care what the hell happens to me. As long as Keira is all right, I don’t give a shit about anything else.
He recognized exhaustion and hunger depleting his reserves and trudged onward even as he stuffed down a snack bar for energy. Granted it wouldn’t heal his shoulder or dissolve fatigue like a good ten hours of sleep, but he couldn’t afford to stop. In a way he understood the ring’s part in keeping him alive and giving him the instinctual ability to scour the jungle for the mysterious city. Without the ring he might be dead now. Never in a million years did he imagine believing in supernatural occurrences, but he’d seen too many odd things in the last few days to argue.
He stiffened as rustling came from the deep thicket in front of him and the low murmur voices. A shout, muffled and desperate, issued from someone’s throat. The male voice almost sounded like El Jaguar’s but he couldn’t be sure. Moving faster, he plunged through the thicket. Covertness at this point wouldn’t bring him nearer to reaching Keira.
He came to a parting in the jungle. Tremendous pillars decorated with strange symbols and carvings came into view. Yes! God, let this be it. He implored whatever gods inhabited the area to help him find Keira unharmed. He dashed toward the pillars and continued through them, running with sheer resolve. Keira must be close. He sensed her.
Special Investigations Agency: Primordial Page 29