Don’t try to make this into more than it is, she cautioned herself, hearing an inner echo of Hannah’s warnings, which contrasted with Casey’s and Amanda’s recent lectures urging her to cut loose. He’s hot, you’re horny, and it’s spring break. Go with the flow.
“El Rey it is, then.” She let him lead her through the crowd. Again, the men moved aside to let him through and the women turned their heads to appreciate the way he looked, the way he moved. Only this time, they noticed her too, with varying degrees of resignation, envy, and bitchy glares.
Eat your heart out, girls, she thought in triumph. He’s mine tonight.
As they let the moonlight and fireworks guide them along the faint pathway used by the few who cared enough to sneak into the park, she was acutely aware of the leashed strength in his muscles, the heat of his body. His strides were powerful, almost gliding, except for once or twice when she noticed the faintest hitch of a limp.
The small imperfection of an otherwise perfect package made him all the more interesting—what was his story? Who was he?
A liquid shimmy radiated from low in her abdomen outward to her fingertips and toes, making her hyperconscious of the gritty surface beneath her sandals, the weight of her clothes against her skin, the touch of the moist, cool air, and the breathlessness that hadn’t come from the fireworks, after all.
Pyrotechnics boomed at regular intervals, making the earth below their feet tremble as their bodies brushed together at shoulder and hip. Nerves flared through Patience—not over the advisability of sneaking off alone with a stranger who didn’t seem at all unfamiliar, but over whether she’d be able to hold her own with him. She’d dated plenty of guys who were far more into her than she was into them .
. . but this was the first time she was on the other side of the insecurity, the first time she’d found herself wondering if she was aiming at someone out of her league.
The sensation was disconcerting . . . and oddly exciting. Was her hand sweating? She’d showered after the beach, and crunched a couple of Altoids after her onion- and spice-heavy dinner, so she should be okay on those fronts, but—
Her mental train derailed as they passed through the last of the low trees that surrounded the site.
The ruins spread out in front of them, washed blue white in the moonlight and cast with splashes of color when the fireworks briefly brightened the night sky. They had approached from the back side of the pyramid, which was the size of a split-level ranch, flanked by a pillared temple platform on one side and a long building—possibly a market—on the other.
Always before, in daylight, Patience had felt a buzz of reverence, a sense of connection that she hadn’t had at any of the other ruins. Now, in the darkness, the sensation of being someplace both ancient and sacred was heightened by the heat of sexual anticipation, and her awareness of the equinox.
Back before the massacre, when the magic had worked and the Nightkeepers flourished, the cardinal days had been times of celebration and sex. Now, as fireworks painted the ruins yellow orange, making her think of torchlight, it seemed right for her to turn toward Brandt and move in for the kiss they had been heading for ever since he’d taken her hand to lead her out of the crowd.
Except she froze midturn, her eyes locking on a dark rectangle outlined in silver moonlight.
There was a doorway in the lower tier of the pyramid.
Brandt whispered, “That wasn’t there before. Was it?”
“I don’t think so.” Actually, she knew for a fact that it hadn’t been, but didn’t want to seem too sure. Nightkeepers were supposed to fly under the human radar. But her pulse kicked and her hands started sweating in earnest.
He glanced down at her, eyes alight. “Want to check it out?”
She hesitated. Of course she wanted to check it out—she was dying to get in there, her anticipation fueled by a combination of her inner adrenaline junkie and cultural conditioning—but logic said she should ditch him before she entered the ruin. If the doorway had opened because of some equinox-
triggered spell put in place by the ancients, possibly one that required the presence of Nightkeeper blood, then she shouldn’t let the human anywhere near it.
But what if it was something more banal, like a new passageway opened by a rock slide? If it didn’t have anything to do with the magi, there was no harm in exploring it with her spring-break hookup.
Or, more accurately, there was no more harm than there would be for two full humans who had snuck into a national park with zero equipment, experience, or mandate to set foot inside the pyramid.
But because of her warrior’s blood, that caution quickly lost to the urge to explore. What was more, a glance showed that Brandt was full-on channeling his inner Indiana Jones, practically vibrating with the urge to get his ass through that door and see what was on the other side.
When she hesitated, though, he said, “We don’t have to. We could just sit and watch the fireworks.”
But the energy between them changed when he said it, making her suspect that if she went with option B, she’d find herself back on the beach while he returned to El Rey alone. Which so wasn’t happening.
Besides, she thought, her brain skipping from option to option almost faster than her consciousness could follow, if the door is Nightkeeper-made and keyed to the presence of mageblood, then it being open now is . . . She trailed off, not even daring to say it inwardly. But what if the barrier had reactivated, if only at this one small spot?
If the magic was back online, then theoretically, she should be able to put Brandt to sleep, and even make him forget what he’d seen. Granted, she didn’t have her bloodline mark, but the sleep and forget spells were lower-level magic. She might be able to pull them off.
So either the door was magic, in which case she should be able to handle the damage control . . . or it wasn’t magic, in which case she was about to go exploring with a seriously hot, mega-interesting guy, during the equinox, when her blood was already on fire. Win-win.
Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her key chain, unsnapped the little emergency light, and gave it a flash. “What are we waiting for?”
His slow, sexy grin was practically its own reward.
They crossed the moonlit courtyard hand in hand, and approached the pyramid. The doorway, which was set in the center of the lowest tier, looked like many of the others she’d seen over the years, with carved pillars on both sides and a lintel over the top. She barely glanced at the carvings, in part because she knew only a few of the ancient glyphs and these were badly weatherworn. The larger part of her haste, though, was the hot excitement beating in her veins, urging her onward.
Tangling her fingers with his, she used her pitiful little light to illuminate the darkness beyond the doorway. Behind them, fireworks pounded, the deep thuds reverberating in the heavy stones of the pyramid. In front of them, an ancient stone staircase led, not up within the pyramid . . . but down into the earth.
Her breath thinned with excitement. On some level, she was aware that one or both of them should probably be bringing up some what-ifs—what would they do if the penlight died? What if the tunnel was booby-trapped? She wasn’t entirely sure if that sort of thing was fact or fiction. Was this really such a good idea?
On another, more visceral level, though, she knew that hesitating wasn’t an option. If this was equinox magic, the doorway would shut in a few hours. And if it wasn’t . . . hell, either way, she was dying to see where the staircase led, and to see it with this man. Call it the hereditary bravery of a warrior bloodline, call it hormones, call it equinox madness; she didn’t care.
Glancing at him, she lifted an eyebrow. “You ready?”
He brushed his knuckles across her cheek in a soft, sensual caress. The warm glow of the penlight brought color to his face and lit his eyes, which were a deep, gold-flecked brown. He inhaled as if to say something, but stayed silent instead, and in that instant, she thought she caught a hint of reserve in his expression
, the question of whether he dared share the adventure with her. But those were her thoughts, not his, she reminded herself. And there was nothing but the thrill of the hunt in his face when he grinned. “I’ve been ready since the moment I spotted you in the crowd.”
She laughed. “Lame.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m pretty sad in the pickup-line department.”
She didn’t believe that for a second, but the exchange had dispelled some of the tension, putting them back where they had been on the beach, daring each other to make the move. Then, he’d been the one to pull her into the darkness, headed for privacy. Now it was her turn to lead the way.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped across the threshold. And started down.
The air around them cooled as they descended the curving stone staircase in a silence broken only by the sound of his boat shoes, her sandals, and their cadenced breathing. The interlocking stones that surrounded them were uncarved and unadorned, and slippery with a layer of moisture that grew heavier as they went. The air, though, stayed fresh, suggesting that there was an outlet nearby.
“I can taste salt,” Brandt said from close behind her. She was very aware of the heat of his big body, the brush of their clothing, and the feather of his breath along her jaw as he looked over her shoulder, both of them depending on the small penlight.
“Maybe this leads all the way back to the lagoon.” She tried to remember if there was a cliff along the beach, someplace where the native limestone base ran down to the water.
“Or an underground river,” he suggested. “There’s almost no surface water in the Yucatán—it’s all subterranean except for where the cenotes punch through. The ancient Maya used to throw sacrifices into the cenotes, hoping to appease the gods, and—” He broke off. “And I’ll shut up now.”
She glanced back. “Archaeology student?”
He shook his head. “Architecture student. But a geeky one. Day one, when my buddies headed for the cantina, I hit the museum.”
It was a perfectly reasonable explanation that didn’t play, though she couldn’t put her finger on what seemed off about it, or why the realization kicked her pulse higher in a good way rather than bad. Then her pitiful flashlight beam showed that they had hit the end of the staircase, and she couldn’t think of anything except what might lie beyond, where the walls fell away and there was only darkness. She smelled brackish water and thought she heard a liquid drip up ahead, so when she reached the edge of the last step, she aimed the light down, making sure there was something solid for her to step onto.
Without warning or preamble, a crack-boom split the air, and fireworks lit an almost perfect circle far above them with yellow, orange, and red sparks. The illumination brightened the interior of what proved to be a high, arching cavern. Graceful stalactites dripped down, reaching toward a circular pool of rippling water. At the apex of the arched ceiling, a sinkhole had punched through, letting in the night sky, where blue-green pinwheels twirled outward in concentric firework rings.
“Holy shit.” Brandt stepped past her, trailing his hand across the small of her back as he moved onto the wide strip of soft limestone sand that separated the curving cave walls from the lagoon. He was staring up at the circle of sky. “I didn’t know there was a cenote at El Rey.”
“The door was hidden somehow. Maybe the sinkhole was too.” She came up beside him, looking not at the sky but at the swirling water.
The Maya—and the Nightkeepers living among them—would have sacrificed their most prized possessions into the cenote, imbuing the water with a power all its own. She stared into the dark pool, trying to sense the magic, which Hannah had described as a humming red-gold haze. She didn’t hear any hum, didn’t see any red-gold, but there was definitely something in the air.
The equinox was in full effect, the fireworks were building to their finale, and she was standing beside a man who fascinated her, compelled her, made her want. And, as he took her hand and twined their fingers together, she knew he felt the same—knew it deep down inside, the same way she wanted to believe that the two of them being there at that moment, together, wasn’t a coincidence.
He looked down at her, his eyes shining with the thrill of adventure and the heat that built between them. “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice rasping on the words. “And so are you.”
The simple statement curled warmth through her as she reached for him and he reached for her.
They came together in unison for their first kiss, bodies flowing together naturally, aligning perfectly.
When their lips touched, the fireworks reached their finale, lighting the sky red and yellow, and making the earth tremble.
Heat flared through Patience; her center turned to liquid warmth, her muscles to pulsing need. Oh, yeah, she thought. Or maybe she said it; she wasn’t sure of anything beyond the feel of his body against hers, all hard muscles and a vibrant energy that called to something within her.
She heard a humming noise, though she couldn’t have said which one of them made the sound; it seemed almost to come from the air around them as it gathered and grew, seeming to circle them, going faster and faster.
What the hell? She grabbed on to Brandt, digging into his solid strength when the spinning buzz gained traction, becoming a vortex that sought to pull her away from him. She screamed and clung, but he was already gone. Then she was rushing, spinning, moving at incalculable rates of speed while somehow staying still.
Gray-green whipped past her, scraping off the layers of innocence and enthusiasm, and aging her six years in the space of a few seconds.
Not yet! Patience cried in her soul. They needed to know what happened next, how the two of them had gotten their marks when the barrier was sealed, the magic disabled. They needed to know about Brandt’s debt, and why the Triad magic had stalled. What was more, she wanted to know what their first time had felt like, what they’d told each other in the aftermath. Maybe remembering the past would help her figure out what the hell had gone wrong in the present.
She didn’t return to the vision, though. Instead, her body took shape around her with the tingle of neurons reawakening to the real world. But as it did, she realized that she had brought a piece of the vision world out with her: desire.
Heat raced through her veins, lighting her up, making her feel things she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. Excitement thrummed through her as the memory of her and Brandt’s first kiss morphed to the sizzle of a new one in the present. Her lips were locked to his, their blood, power, and heat mingling. Exultation flared as a shudder ran through his body and he awoke, a testosterone-laden Sleeping Beauty coming to life beneath her kiss.
Oh, thank you, gods. The etznab spell had worked.
Relief hammered through her, but before she could say anything, he deepened the kiss, going from participant to leader between one breath and the next. Flames danced behind her closed lids as his free arm came up to wrap around her, catching her in a hard embrace that lit her senses with urgent desire.
His taste was fresh and new once again, his touch wildly exciting as he dragged his hand down her body to the place where the hem of her long-sleeve tee had ridden up to bare the skin above her jeans, which were soft with wear and rode low on her waist. His big hand closed on her hip, his fingers digging in with the inciting pressure of a rough caress that was echoed in his ragged groan.
Her excitement flared higher at the sound. It had been rare for him to ease up on his vicious self-
control, rare for her to be able to push him past that point. If he was teetering now, it meant that she wasn’t alone in being caught partway between then and now, riding a wave of relief and sex magic.
She didn’t delude herself by pretending that the magic wasn’t part of what was happening between them. But at the same time, she couldn’t make herself care. She wanted sex. With him. Now.
When oxygen ran low, they ended the kiss and drew apart, both breathing hard and fast. She opened her eyes to find him s
taring at her with a hint of the wonder that was rocketing through her, along with the sense of “there you are.” It felt like they had been looking for each other for months now, years.
She knew the intensity was an illusion of the sex magic, making the joining seem like so much more than it would otherwise, but she didn’t care. She wanted to lose herself in the moment and forget about all the rest. Most of all, she wanted to hold on to the warm glow of love and desire that lit his expression right now.
But even as she watched, the glow dimmed. “The Triad spell didn’t work,” he said in a low rasp.
“We know. The nahwal warned us.” She braced for his withdrawal, the return to business-first Brandt.
Instead, he reached up and brushed his knuckles across her cheek as he had done that night. Until she saw the wetness, she hadn’t realized there were tears.
“The vision . . . ,” he began, then trailed off. Something shifted in his eyes; they heated with molten gold, turning to those of his younger self. “I saw you in town that day. You were coming out of some bar with your friends, but I didn’t see them. I only saw you. I froze for a second, and it was too long—
you were gone. I spent the rest of the day searching—hotels, bars, whatever. By the time it got dark, I was pr—hoping to hell you’d be on the beach for the fireworks . . . and that you would feel what I was feeling.”
Oh, Brandt. New tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she willed them back. “I felt it too. It felt like this.” Knowing she was probably making a mistake, that this was going to hurt when things went wrong again, she leaned in and locked her lips to his.
She didn’t care. She wanted this, wanted him.
He kissed her back, openmouthed, in a blatantly carnal demand that she met and matched, her body vibrating with need and arousal. Heat slapped through her alongside wonder when she found that although it was morning and they were in their bedroom, the moment she closed her eyes, she was right back in the night-dark cave, being held in the arms of a stranger while fireworks lit the sky.
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