Bastian pushed her up the ladder on the side of the weather-beaten boat that smelled of fish and decaying jungle. Kira took the calloused hand that was offered and scrambled aboard. “They’re right behind us,” she gasped.
“Not from the sounds of it,” he said as he offered a hand to Bastian, who hoisted himself over the rail.
He was right. She heard screams and the sound of rapid gunfire peppering the jungle but nothing close. She wrapped her arms around herself and started to shake. She tried to say thank you around her chattering teeth and clenched jaw.
“Alex Springer,” her host said with a nod. He had the same lithe, muscular build as Bastian possessed as a human. Coppery, sun-kissed strands were woven through his long brown hair and glinted along his whiskered jaw. A beat-up straw hat shadowed his eyes. His smooth, tan chest was bare and his low-slung jeans were faded.
“Been in the rescue business long, Mr. Springer?” she managed, a little calmer now, as they chugged their way downriver. She spared a glance at Bastian, who was watching her with an odd set to his jaw.
What did he have to be pissed off about?
Alex followed her gaze and chuckled. “Long enough to know the flyover’s I’ve been seeing lately are probably because of you two. I suggest we get you below deck and then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
Below deck was only two steps down, under a canopy, and smelled worse than above, the heat amplifying the stench of river mud, sweat and whatever else wasn’t refrigerated in the large cooler in the center of the jumbled mess. There wasn’t really a cabin, just an open space filled with boxes—camera equipment, clothes and camping gear spilling out of their open tops. They could see Alex but they were hidden from view.
“I don’t have anything fresh-killed but I grabbed some tins of beef stew and pudding when I heard the drums.”
“The drums were talking about us?”
“You’re the talk of the jungle. The only talk. That’s how I knew to come back.”
Kira glanced over at Bastian, who’d already sunk down against the boxes and was asleep before she popped the top open on the beef stew. Wait a minute.
“Come back?”
“I was supposed to meet Sebastian here a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t know what had happened until I heard the drums. Juan must have alerted someone or Sebastian wasn’t quite as stealthy as he usually is.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” She murmured. “Did the drums mention why he wasn’t here a week ago?” She popped a cold cube of beef in her mouth and chewed to cover her nervousness. If she tried to swallow, she’d choke.
“The message was that he’d fallen off the grid and they were looking for him. They’re afraid he might have gone rogue.”
She licked cold beef gravy from her fingertips and forced herself to swallow. “Then why are you helping us?” she asked, not that she trusted him not to lie.
His mouth drew to one side, more of a grimace than a smile, and he glanced at Bastian. “Bastian did me a favor once—and I have no love for the Council’s methods of dealing with problems. To accuse Bastian of going rogue makes the back of my neck itch. It’s not something that anyone who knows him would believe.”
“I sort of got the impression the Council was something to fear. Why aren’t you afraid?”
“They owe me,” he bit off. “Since I’m doing the job I was originally assigned to do, helping you falls into a gray area. Knowing Bastian, I suspect you have something to do with his recent…trouble.” He smiled again and this time he actually looked amused.
As accusations went, it was fairly benign. She sighed and leaned back against the stairwell. “He tried to do the decent thing and it blew up in his face.”
“Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not unless you want to step outside the gray area,” she said, suddenly tired. The adrenaline high waning and her hunger somewhat appeased, she was almost too tired to care that she really had no reason to trust this man. At least he hadn’t tried to kill her yet.
Alex sighed and didn’t say anything for a moment. “My wife and I were photojournalists. We had a lead on a story about a big-game hunter who was rumored to have a room full of exotic animal trophies that were…unusual. Not the sort of thing you’d see on any nature channel. One night after a full moon, I found my wife’s body hanging on a farmer’s fence, her pelt gone.”
The stew she’d just eaten threatened to come back up. She closed her eyes. “Did you kill him?”
“The Council prohibits retribution in these cases. It would draw too much attention,” he said, his gaze never leaving the channel.
She glanced at her sleeping protector. “Did Sebastian kill him for you?”
Alex shook his head and this time his bitter smile reached his dark eyes. “I’ve never known Sebastian to defy the Council. He did, however, manage to steal my wife’s pelt. It no longer decorates the bastard’s wall.”
No wonder he had no love for the Council. “Why didn’t you join Fontaine?”
“Because I have no love for religious fanatics.”
“Me neither,” she sighed, glancing over at Bastian who was now stretched out between the overflowing boxes that lined the floor of the cabin. “If I can get him back to Sangre de Luna, I might be able to help him.”
Alex frowned as if something had just occurred to him. “What do you mean, help him?”
“Alonzo Alvarez drugged him while we were prisoners. He can’t change. He’ll just keep losing ground unless I can figure out how to reverse the effects of the drugs.”
Judging by the surprise on Alex’s face, the drums hadn’t mentioned that. “Why is Sangre de Luna significant?”
“All Juan would tell us is that the answers we need are there and I’m somehow the key.”
“Bastard,” Alex growled. “I can get you to the mouth of the caves.”
Chapter Twelve
A week aboard a cramped boat carrying three people, two of whom were hiding from the daily flyovers by small aircraft and helicopters and anyone else who might see them, had them all trying to stay out of each other’s way. To make matters worse, the motion of the water made Kira nauseous. She could keep water down, and some pudding but even the smell of the beef made her eyes cross.
Bastian spent most of his time sleeping like a big lazy cat. That left her in the company of Alex, who entertained her with tales of Bastian’s exploits that had earned him the position as the Council’s favorite. And made her wonder even more why he’d helped her. In the beginning, she was sure he hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again. Now, it could be the drugs. What would happen if she found a way to counteract them was anyone’s guess.
She could still feel his arms around her, telling her there was no escape, still feel the kiss she’d demanded. She’d thought of precious little else as she’d watched him decline. She wanted to be able to touch him again without him snarling at her.
He could end up killing her and never remember why she was with him. Or worse, only remember he was the Council’s favorite Assassin and she was just another target. But she’d made her choice and he should have the same chance. She’d come too far to turn back now.
The river was widening. The closer they came to Sangre de Luna the harder it became for Bastian to communicate. Alex hadn’t been keen on him scraping messages into the floor of the boat. At least she could still detect enough from his hand signals to understand his plans.
Her jeans were torn and filthy but they might protect her from the scrape of the underwater tunnel she’d have to swim through again. She’d been worried that Bastian wouldn’t be able to squeeze through in his larger, Jaguar Warrior form but he’d indicated that he’d have to go deeper than she would. She didn’t even want to imagine that.
He wouldn’t risk the front entrance. They stood a better chance of remaining undetected if anyone was watching, whether it was men with guns or Jaguar Warriors who were afraid of breaking a spiritual law. The tunnel entrance was considered sacre
d ground and with its narrow access, much easier to defend.
Alex couldn’t get any closer than the middle of the channel because the river was just too shallow at this point, so they slid in and swam to the bank. She looked back once to where he stood, staring at them as if he might never see them again. She waved because when she’d tried to thank him before, Bastian had growled and Alex had looked worried. As if he wasn’t quite sure that letting her leave with Bastian was the best idea.
She’d slid over the side and Bastian had followed, scrambling up the bank after her and following her into the cave that led to the last leg of their journey. Bastian was still following, narrow eyed and heavy footed, lumbering along behind her until they could get back into the water and find the tunnel. They were running out of time.
Once they went underwater she lost sight of him. She stroked her way along the side of the tunnel into the purification pool and came up, gasping for air. She was already out of the water when she heard Bastian surface.
The room was dark and she felt her way around the edge of the wall, could feel him behind her, close enough to touch. He didn’t touch her though and she was almost glad. She couldn’t see the Jaguar spout but when water poured over her hand, she shivered, remembering their time together, their fierce mating.
When she felt his hand slide along her shoulder, she jumped and he pulled it back. Maybe he remembered too. Maybe he missed their connection as much as she did. She shook herself and felt along the walls until they reached the sleeping chamber.
She banged her knee on the sleeping platform and bit off a curse, inching her way along it to find the backpack and the lantern that sat alongside. Fumbling for the button, she hoped the batteries were still good.
In the thin beam of yellow light, she searched out the matches he’d stuffed into a pocket of the pack. She lit the torch on the wall and turned to face Bastian. The torch popped and sizzled and he flinched. She could tell he was tired again and it scared her. Each day, he’d lost more energy. A side effect no one had told her about during their captivity.
“Why don’t you get some rest while I take a look around and try to see what I missed the last time we were here?”
His head snapped up as if he would protest but she nodded, pointing to the stone platform with his sleeping bag still thrown over it. “I’m not tired,” she lied. “And I need to find out how to help you if we’re going to survive.”
He straightened, drawing himself up and shook his head.
“Come on then, let’s at least get warm and dry. We’ll start in the crystal room, where warmth and light await.” She almost panicked when she realized that she was using the same voice she would to calm an animal and had to blink back her tears.
He chuffed an exasperated sigh and it was a reaction that harkened back to when he’d at least made an effort to communicate. He led the way this time and wasted no time reaching their destination. He slid down against one of the stone tablets that leaned against each other in the center of the room and his eyes drifted shut.
Kira absorbed the warmth for a moment, the pleasure so intense and welcome that she almost cried. What the hell could be here that would tell them what she needed to do to keep Bastian from reverting farther?
What was she missing? The figures on the wall looked the same. The whole tableau still looked as if the sun were exploding, raining Jaguar Warriors down on men with huge heads and stick figure bodies. They didn’t look like Inca or Maya—there were no feathers, no decorations. If they were gods, they didn’t look like any she’d come across in bookstores or libraries.
None of this looked like anything she’d ever seen before.
So why was she trying to apply what she assumed it was to the situation?
The more she looked at it the less it looked like a creation theory and separate battle scene. Really long battle scene.
She grabbed the flashlight, and after a quick glance at Bastian, headed for the entrance to the temple. She followed it backward. The battle, the never-ending battle that raged on throughout the temple decorated the walls that led to the chamber where they had slept. But it also split off and now that she had a chance to really look at it, the wall carvings that led from the crystal room were more primitive. Her heart started to pound as she traced the carvings with the tips of her fingers. Angry slashes that she would bet had been made with primitive tools. She would also bet they were made first. The record in the sleeping chamber was more sophisticated, almost elegant.
And the men carved into the sleeping chamber scenes definitely wore helmets. And the fire didn’t exactly shoot from their fingers. They were holding sticks she’d bet were guns with fire shooting out of them.
She stood in the glow of the torch and really looked at the center tableau. It had been staring her in the face all along. Hiding in plain sight. Her mind had registered it but had disregarded it because she’d been focused on a creation theory.
She wasn’t looking at an explosion that had rained Jaguar Warriors down upon the stick figure men. The Warriors weren’t wearing breastplates. They had breasts. She was looking at twelve female Jaguar Warriors with bands around their necks that tethered them to a large round object that gave off rays of light.
None of the twelve struggled. All were rigid, as if they were staked out, lying down instead of floating in mid-air, entranced. The skin along her spine crawled, as if cold air whispered over her bare skin.
She rubbed her arms and followed the battle backward once more. Each Jaguar Warrior wore a collar. Even the ones not tethered to the light. Slave collars? She was trying desperately not to jump to conclusions but a glimmer of hope flickered through her. It looked as though the twelve had somehow used themselves as conduits to control the minds and bodies of their embattled Warriors below.
That’s what Fontaine had needed, a conduit to access the Sacred Light. She had no idea why he’d needed a halfling. She didn’t care. If she was the key, the conduit, she could help Bastian.
She only tripped once trying to get back to him. Her heart hammering wildly in her chest, she tried to contain her excitement but she was almost in tears by the time she reached him. He was still slumped against the stone tablets in the center of the room. She shook him and he came up swinging, catching her under her jaw with his elbow, knocking her to her knees. His roar echoed off the walls and she struggled to her feet. He rushed her, pinning her against the wall, his forearm against her throat, his body caging her.
“I…can’t heal…you…if…I’m…dead,” she gurgled, looking into his eyes and seeing only confusion. She panicked and started to struggle but he loosened his grip just as black spots danced in front of her eyes. He backed away, glancing around the room.
“Bastian?” she whispered, rubbing her throat, trying to focus. He turned his head and scrubbed his face hard, nodding. She breathed a sigh of relief and took a tentative step forward. He backed away and she did too, giving him enough space to feel safe.
“I think I know how to heal you.”
Now he was listening. She turned and pointed at the shimmering green crystal protruding like an oblong skylight from the ceiling. “Do you know what that is?” He glanced at the crystal, turned his face up as if seeking the sun’s warmth, and nodded slowly.
She caught his gaze. He was still there, the Bastian she knew and wanted back. “I think Jaguar People were slaves once. I think this crystal has something to do with how they were controlled and I think these Warriors figured out how to use it against their masters.” She pointed to the collars around the twelve female Jaguar Warrior’s necks. “Do you remember, before we were captured, when you taught me how to change without a full moon?”
His gaze was wary and she waited until that eased a bit before she spoke again.
“I think it’s the same principle. Only with this bad boy,” she said, pointing to the crystal, “we’re entering a whole other realm.” He glanced from the crystal and back to her. “I believe you all have the power but this ma
gnifies it somehow.”
He frowned and she tamped down her panic.
“Oh hell, I’m not sure either, but if I’m right, you need a conduit. I don’t know why a halfling was needed, and I’m not saying I believe in Fontaine’s prophecy, but there’s something that connects me to the crystal. If I’m interpreting the drawing correctly it’s reasonable that he needed me to access the same power they used to defeat everyone,” she said nodding toward the carving. “You told me this place scares the shit out of everyone. It’s against the law to enter. What better way to control a secret than to scare everyone into staying away from here?”
The light in his eyes returned and he thumped his chest. “Yeah, I get that you weren’t afraid to come in here. You’re very practical. I find I like that in large males of the feline variety.” She tried to control the tremor in her voice but it reached all the way to her fingertips.
“I’m not going to think this to death because we’re running out of time and I’m scared. I’m terrified you’re going to kill me and never remember who I was.” She bit off a strangled cry, ashamed of her weakness.
“Give me your hands,” she said holding out hers. “This is going to have to suffice for a slave collar connection.”
He grabbed her hands but loosened his grip when she winced. “I like that you’re excited about this,” she said, biting her lip, trying to channel her excitement into the energy she thought she might need. Please, please let this work.
“I was running when I started reciting the chant you taught me. I couldn’t close my eyes because I would have tripped over something and fallen so I just kept chanting and running. That’s what we’re going to do now.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t let go of me okay,” she said and he nodded. “I’m the connection between you and the crystal and I want you to use it to regain the power you have over yourself. Do you understand?”
She could feel the excitement vibrating through him. He was almost animated. “Thought is deed and you are the power in your world.” Not a hair rippled. Well, nothing else had been easy, why would this be? Maybe she hadn’t connected all the dots. She licked her lips. “Okay, let’s chalk that up to practice. You have to be thinking the same thing. Just keep reciting the words and don’t stop, even if I stop talking. I’m just the connection.” She gripped his hands and repeated the chant. He was watching her lips move so she grinned and he glanced up.
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