He kept his gaze on the road curving up and over a mountain. Eventually, the route would descend from thirteen thousand feet down into the Sacred Valley. There, it would turn into a well-paved asphalt highway leading to Cuzco and the airport.
If he hadn’t screwed up, Ana could have remained at the village for a year or two, developing her skills. As it was, she had to make contact with the foundation leaders, then return to the village for training on a monthly basis after that. Mace had left her vulnerable to attack from her father. He had to protect and defend her until she could get her armor and energy ready to fight him effectively. Ana was the only one who could defeat her father, if and when she embraced all her power. She had to train constantly to reach that level and confidence.
Adaire had warned Ana that Guerra would fight dirty and do anything he could to vanquish her and the Warriors for the Light. Further, Guerra was actively seeking the other emerald spheres. The foundation had one, and the second one that Ana had found was safe at the Village of the Clouds. Ana had taken a photo of it before they departed. That left five emerald spheres hidden elsewhere in the world, and the master sorcerer was sending out students to hunt for them. Obviously, the Warriors didn’t have time to waste.
Feeling guilty, Mace slid a glance toward Ana. His heart swelled with such yearning for her that he nearly said something, but choked it back. Her hair was loose, a little frizzy from the high humidity, and emphasized her clean profile. It was her mouth Mace ached to feel beneath his once more, that made his lower body begin to heat and throb with need.
The road curved sharply. During the last rainstorm, boulders had fallen from the slopes of the craggy mountain. Mace slowed the vehicle to avoid them. There was hardly any traffic on this portion of the road today, though he’d often in the past encountered buses filled with passengers shuttling back and forth between Ollantaytambo and Cuzco. The road was so narrow it didn’t allow for two-way traffic at times, a fact that set Mace’s nerves on edge. He braked and eased the dark green Land Rover around a gray-and-black granite rock sitting near the edge of a thousand-foot drop-off.
“Nasty stuff,” Ana commented, frowning.
“Very,” he grunted.
As Mace rounded another curve, he saw several pieces of wood lying across the road. What the hell? It had obviously been put there by someone. But who? Bandits ranged along this road, as well.
“Get your pistol out,” he warned Ana tersely.
She did as he ordered, pulling the Glock out of the holster she wore on her right thigh. Ana raised the pistol, snapped off the safety and got it ready. She was familiar with weapons. Wildlife biologists tracking dangerous jaguars had to be handy with a rifle and pistol in case of an attack.
Mace braked. He put the car in Park and climbed out. “Stay in the vehicle,” he told Ana. “I’ll move those tree limbs.”
“I’ve got you covered,” she murmured.
As he walked the ten feet to the first limb, Mace suddenly sensed evil nearby. He was tired and not as alert as he should be. And he hadn’t erected his energy armor, the ultimate protection for a Warrior.
A flash of movement came from the right. Turning, Mace recognized Guerra’s black aura. Only the sorcerer stood before him in the form of a young Quero man in his twenties. Guerra had possessed the unsuspecting Indian and was inhabiting his body.
Too late! Before Mace could shape-shift or even try to visualize his armor in place, he saw the sorcerer’s triumphant look on the Indian’s square face. Shooting his hand toward Mace, Guerra sent ten energy hooks into his heart chakra.
The moment that happened, Mace felt as if he’d been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. Instantly, he was flung off his feet. He landed hard on his back, dust rising where he slid across the hard, unforgiving road. Gasping for air, he struggled to breathe. He knew what was happening. The sorcerer was now pulling energy out of him, as if he’d cut him open with a knife and was bleeding him to death. It would kill him. In less than ten minutes, he’d die of a massive heart attack. Mace’s vision began to grow gray.
He struggled and tried to resist the sorcerer’s power, but he’d been caught off guard. Ana was screaming, and this only made Guerra laugh.
Ana! Mace twisted to look in her direction. She stood near the front of the vehicle, the Glock held in both hands, pointed toward her father.
“Stop it!” she shrieked. “Stop hurting Mace!” She knew Victor had possessed the poor Indian. It showed her that the sorcerer would do anything to get what he wanted.
Guerra kept his focus on the struggling Warrior who lay in the dirt, unable to resist his power. Victor held his hand steady, index finger pointed at the man who had killed him.
“Shut up, Ana! Get back into the car!” Guerra yelled.
Wildly, Ana looked toward Mace, whose face was growing gray, his movements weaker. He flailed about, clawing helplessly at his chest. The blood was draining from his darkly tanned face. Her father was murdering him before her very eyes! No! No!
Ana’s mind went blank with horror. This was such a terrible misuse of power! Victor was her father, but a man she detested and feared. What should she do?
Revulsion roared through Ana. In order to stop him, she’d have to shoot and kill the poor Quero he possessed.
“Stop or I’ll shoot you!” she screamed.
“Stupid girl!” Victor barked, concentrating on killing Mace Ridfort. “You can’t hurt me. I’m invincible!”
Terror pulsed through Ana. She gripped the pistol and fired one, two, three times at her father. The gun roared, the sound hurting her sensitive ears. The shots echoed, the mountains reflecting the noise.
The young Quero was thrown backward, blood pouring out of his chest. And then he collapsed to the ground, dead. Ana saw a black, misty shape exit out of the Indian’s head. The dark cloud grew to be ten feet high and three feet wide, and it pulsed with rage and violence. The energy buffeted Ana like waves of a turbulent tide.
It was Victor, she knew. Completely unaffected by the loss of the human body he’d possessed, he continued his attack on Mace.
Panicking, Ana tried to think. Bullets wouldn’t touch the sorcerer in spirit form. What could she do?
Guerra roared with laughter. “You are so stupid!” he screamed at her, though his narrowed eyes never left Mace. “I’m not real, remember? I no longer have a physical form. Your bullets can’t hurt me.”
Breathing hard, Ana’s stared at him. Guerra resembled a hologram. She vaguely saw a face, one she didn’t recognize, triangular in shape. Jet-black eyes glowed a reddish color, and his skeletal hand pointed at Mace. Alarm gripped her. How could she stop Victor from killing the man she’d fallen in love with?
And then she knew the answer. Grandmother Alaria had given her a lesson in opening her heart and sending out energy to another person. Alaria had told her that love was the greatest power in the world and that, sincerely felt, emotion could stop the worst evil. Closing her eyes, Ana quickly grounded herself. She could hear Mace moaning. Her father was laughing, his voice hollow and echoing around her. Blocking everything out, Ana visualized her heart opening. She felt the love she had for Mace. And she aimed it into her father’s dark heart, which looked like a bottomless black pit.
The instant Ana’s energy struck Guerra, he shrieked in horror. The power of her love instantly broke his energetic connection to Mace.
Turning, the sorcerer rushed toward Ana. “Stop that!” he screamed, flailing his arms. He tried to send energy hooks into her heart, but they bounced off her aura. She had armored up, dammit! Guerra kept trying to push away her loving energy. It got closer and closer to his heart! He didn’t dare allow that to happen, it could destroy him. Stunned by the mastery his daughter was displaying, Victor glared at her.
“You little bitch!” he shrieked.
Ana’s mouth compressed. She held the laserlike focus of loving energy, moving it closer and closer to her father. His heart looked like a black, gaping hole in the center
of his chest. She heard Mace gasp and then cough, but Ana couldn’t risk switching her attention from Victor to him. She watched as Guerra floated higher in the air, making wild, swiping motions at the golden wave of energy coming toward him. Her love fought his hatred. And Ana knew without a doubt that if she didn’t hold her concentration, her father would finish off Mace.
Victor cursed and suddenly willed himself out of the third dimension. It was the only way to escape.
Blinking, Ana watched her father disappear before her eyes. The black apparition simply faded and dissolved.
She again heard Mace coughing. Was her father gone? Ana carefully scanned the area to make sure. There was no energy signature of him anywhere. He’d gone back to the Other Worlds, behind the veil. Turning, Ana raced to where Mace was struggling to sit up, his hand pressed over his heart.
“Mace!” She fell to her knees and gripped his slumped shoulders. “Mace? Are you all right?”
He dragged deep drafts of life-giving air into his oxygen-starved body. Ana’s hands were warm and steadying. She leaned over, her lips near his ear, her own breathing rough and raspy.
“Fine…fine…” he managed to croak. Glancing toward the cliff where Guerra had appeared, Mace knew the sorcerer was gone for now and that Ana had saved his life. He gripped her hand. “I’m okay, thanks. You saved me, Ana. He would have killed me….”
“Oh, Mace,” she quavered. “I was never so scared. I didn’t know what to do. The bullets…”
“Yeah,” he rasped, his heartbeat still racing. “I know.” He heard Ana whisper his name. She knelt in front of him, her hand trembling as she touched his cheek, his hair and then his arm, as if to make sure he was really going to live. Deeply moved, Mace reassured her in a husky voice, “I’m going to be okay, Ana. The hooks are gone. How did you get him to leave me alone?”
Wiping at her tears, Ana sat back on her heels and told him everything. Mace responded with the biggest smile, pride shining in his blue eyes.
“Grandmother Alaria is going to be very pleased,” he said, his voice starting to sound normal once more.
As his energy began to return, he instantly armored himself. This was a lesson he’d never forget. He’d gotten lazy because of the safety at the village; no Dark Forces could ever penetrate that bastion of the Warriors for the Light. It was the one and only safe place in any dimension for them.
And being in Ana’s presence had been a great distraction. Inattention could kill a Warrior. It had damn near killed him just now.
“I was scared, Mace. I panicked when the bullets killed that poor Quero he possessed. Victor exited the body and continued his attack against you.” Ana couldn’t make herself say “father,” the word was so distasteful to her.
Reaching out, Mace gripped her damp hand. “You’re learning on the job, Ana. Guerra is impervious to any third dimensional weapon when he’s in spirit form. You didn’t know that. The only thing he’s allergic to is the feeling of love. He can’t handle it. That is the one emotion, the one thing that can destroy him. And that’s what you did—you sent love to him and he had to run. He couldn’t stand and fight you.”
Giving her a look of respect, Mace added, “You’re more powerful than he is, with all his energy, all his students, and his thousands of years of experience.” Squeezing her hand, Mace murmured, “All it took was a young neophyte with a pure heart, and he had to leave me alone. Thanks. You’re something else.”
Shakily, Ana pushed strands of hair away from her damp face. “I followed my jaguar instincts, I guess.”
“Yes, you did. Our jaguar guardians are there to protect us and help us in moments of danger. It’s a good thing Alaria was able to train you last week. You used everything she taught you just now. You’re a fast study.” Mace couldn’t imagine the emotional trauma Ana must have gone through when she shot at her father and that poor Indian. Mace saw the sadness in her jade-colored eyes, and his heart contracted. No one should ever have to shoot his or her own father. Not even someone as evil as Guerra. Mace knew Ana wasn’t taking her actions lightly, and chances were, after she came down off the adrenaline high, the impact of what she had done would strike her full force. Mace was determined to be there for her when it happened.
His quiet praise washed over Ana. She helped him to his feet. He dusted off his pants and she brushed off the back of his shirt. “I was scared,” she admitted.
“In our job, we’re often scared,” Mace murmured. He reached out and drew Ana into his arms. She came eagerly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Surprised but relieved, Mace buried his face in her thick, dark hair as she pressed herself fully against him. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart, the lush fullness of her breasts.
Mace didn’t take her embrace as capitulation or an admittance of any special feelings. He knew she was badly shaken by the sorcerer’s attack. So was he. And right now, he wanted to give her what little comfort he could.
“Come on,” he urged, pressing a light kiss to her hair, “we need to get going. Let’s clear the rest of the tree limbs. I’ll get a shovel out of the Land Rover. We need to bury the poor Quero your father possessed. And then we’ve got to catch that plane for Quito.”
“The Dark Forces will continue to attack us,” Mace warned Calen Hernandez and her husband, Reno Manchahi. He told them of the incident with Guerra on the mountain. Ana sat at his side on the veranda of their condominium outside Quito. After taking a sip of his iced tea, Mace completed his report to the executives of the Vesica Piscis Foundation. Ana quietly added that her father’s treachery earlier had been a terrible shock to her.
“But you stopped him, Ana,” Calen said, giving her a quick nod of approval. “He’s the master sorcerer, the man who, according to legend, will gather the Dark Forces. If you could do that, there’s hope for us, for the Light.”
Shrugging, Ana said, “I didn’t feel like I did anything. I just sent out the love I held in my heart.” She smiled at the couple and looked around their lovely condo. It was filled with tropical greenery in brightly colored pots. The home was spacious and cool despite the high humidity and heat in the capital city of Ecuador.
Reno gave his wife a tender look, then turned to Ana. “Innocence always trumps a dark-hearted person.”
Calen nodded. “We’re so glad to have you on our team. The legend says we would meet and work together for the common good of the world.” She pointed to a photograph of the second emerald. “I sent a photo you took of this to Professor Castillo at Quito University. She was able to transcribe the writing on it.” Calen picked up a scribbled note. “This sphere has the word honesty etched upon it. It is one of the Seven Virtues of Peace.”
Ana gave Mace a searching look. “Honesty. Doesn’t that fit? My father was dishonest with me.”
Taking her hand, Mace squeezed it, then reluctantly released it. “And I was dishonest with you, too, Ana. You didn’t know who I really was and I didn’t tell you.”
Ana instantly missed the strength and warmth of his fingers around hers. “I know. The symbolic journey we took with one another was all about honesty, Mace. It makes sense to me now.”
Reno sat up, elbows resting on his thighs. “If it makes you feel any better, Ana, the sphere was meant to be discovered by a specific couple. And the sphere relates directly to a life lesson they’re trying to learn. Mace had a mission. He had to remain undercover. He couldn’t be honest with you. But your father was a different story. Your entire history with him has been a saga of dishonesty. He was setting you up to kill you, since his Taqe wife had been dishonest with him.”
Sadness filtered through Ana. “There was dishonesty following me from before my birth to just a week ago, when I began my trip. The truth came to light the moment the nustas revealed the emerald sphere to me in the lunar temple.” She gave Mace a searching look and added softly, “I can forgive you, Mace. I can’t forgive Victor. Not yet, maybe never. I can forgive my mother, because she sacrificed her life for me, for the Light, fo
r the possibility of peace in our world someday.”
Sweet and cooling relief rushed through Mace. “Thanks, I needed to know that, Ana. I know I hurt you, but I didn’t know who you really were.”
“In our business,” Calen interjected gently, “we often feel like we’re walking through a hall of mirrors. We don’t know what’s real and what isn’t, and have to rely on our training, guts and heart to sort out the truth.” She pressed her palm to her chest.
“You’re a seasoned Warrior, Calen,” Ana said. “I admire and respect you so much. Grandmother Alaria said I would learn much from you and Reno. I have to cram about ten years of training into the next few months in order to be ready for the attacks that my…er, Victor will start hurling at us.”
“You’re right,” Calen agreed. “Grandmother Alaria appeared to me in a dream just a few weeks ago. Neither Reno nor I knew about the Village of the Clouds until then.”
“She said that only when the four of us came together would they be permitted to reveal the existence of the village,” Reno stated. He exchanged another warm look with his wife. “Calen and I thought we’d be starting from scratch, building the foundation here, but we don’t have to reinvent the wheel, after all. Grandmother Alaria said once we were up and functioning, they would allow people who have the Vesica Piscis birthmark to train with them, too.”
“That will lift a lot of the load off you two,” Mace said. “It will free you up to do more defensive work out in the world, directing Light teams to protect people or sacred places from the Tupay. Plus focus your best teams on locating those other emerald spheres, before Guerra and his bunch find them.”
Dark Truth Page 19