He scooped her into his arms and kissed her, kept kissing her until she slid from his arms and they were both bathed in warmth from the Sacred Light. He lowered them to the soft green cover, stretched out beside her and grabbed the small bottle of lube he’d placed under the cover while she’d slept.
“You’re lucky I always bring lube with me.”
She raised a delicate dark eyebrow. “Prepared for everything, are you?” She asked with a smile and rolled her hips into the press of his palm, moaned while he petted her soft curls and stroked her clit.
“Jacking off is better than a pill when you’re too wired to sleep, but running through the jungle with a sore cock is pretty uncomfortable, not to mention dangerous.”
She pinched his nipple hard and he laughed down into her heat-glazed, dark eyes and kissed her softly. He could never remain soft with her, he wanted her too badly, wanted her every way imaginable.
“You excel at torture,” she whispered against his neck as she strained toward him, pressing his cock against the hand manipulating her pussy.
He laughed against her mouth and moved his hand so she could stroke herself with is erection. She slid a leg over his hip and stroked up her slit, shuddering from the warm contact.
“Feel the need to be in control?”
She moaned, arching into him, rubbing his cock head around her entrance and flicking her clit. “Yes,” she hissed.
He sat, flipped her around so her back was cradled against his chest and settled her on his lap as he leaned against the center tablet. “Put your legs on the outside of mine,” he whispered in her ear. “Get on your knees and lean forward.”
She turned her head and her stubborn mouth pulled into a wry grin. “And this puts me in control, how?”
He laughed and dumped her unceremoniously into position, holding her around the waist so she didn’t lean too far. “I’m going to slide into your pussy and you’re going to be in control. You get to fuck me just as hard as you want, just as fast or slow. But while you’re torturing my cock, I’m going to be torturing your tight little ass until you’re mindless enough to take me.”
She was mindless before he slid his hands under her ass while she gripped his ankles and inched backward, enveloping the crown of his cock. She closed her eyes, savoring the heated knob of flesh pressed just inside her pussy, clenching it like a gentle fist until he moaned. Rolling her hips, she took him inside her until he was fully seated, then stroked back up, lifting and pushing her body forward.
Cold lube sizzled between her cheeks, followed by his fingers and she arched, almost coming completely off his cock before swiveling her hips from one side to the other. He pressed a finger into her ass on the downstroke, followed her slow swiveling glide before pumping more lube into her and another finger.
She bit her lip when he slipped a third finger into her, rotating it in time with the quickening pace she matched to the beat of her blood, the glide of his fingers, until she could feel her muscles tighten, her pussy clench.
And then his cock was gone and she was empty for the moment it took him to lift her, replace his fingers with his cock head, poised at her opening, teasing the puckered little ring of singing nerves that ached to be stroked. She pushed down and felt just the tip, slick and heavy, slip inside her. She leaned forward, giving him better access.
“As much or as little as you want,” he hissed. “You’re in control.” He held on to her waist, granting her leverage.
The first slide of his fingers against her quivering nerve endings had stirred her to this dark promise and she was in control. She positioned him at her entrance, teased the head of his cock against her quivering hole and pushed, anticipating pain but at the same time surprised by her own eagerness. A shudder rippled through her. She was caught up in the red haze of desire and the pure pleasure of being so deliciously filled.
She could hear him panting, feel the sweat-slicked slide of skin against skin as she folded inward, opening herself, inviting him closer, each slow stroke drawing him deeper until it wasn’t enough. She was on fire, needing more, her rhythm quickening as the pressure built as fast as her moan.
“Rub your clit,” he whispered harshly, “I’ll hold you.”
She found the pulsing, erect knob of flesh with her fingers, pinching it between her knuckles until her blood sizzled. She was breathing so hard she thought her heart would burst. Her blood was singing.
The crystal was singing, the center glowing like a red-faceted jewel that throbbed in time with her heartbeat.
Bastian was chanting, holding her as he went up on his knees, still fucking her, matching her frenzied rhythm, driving her to an orgasm as she watched the crystal pulsate until the room turned red, the glow surrounding her with so much heat that the force of it drove a growl from deep inside. She came so hard she pitched forward.
He caught her head in his cupped hands and lowered them both to the sleeping bag. She was still panting, still shaking from her orgasm…or maybe the red haze had scared her.
It had scared him. He’d barely been able to stifle his change. He hadn’t known what to expect. Had no idea what it meant but maybe, just maybe Kira would feel the pull of the moon that was coming. Maybe this time she would change.
“Did you feel anything?” he asked as the red haze dissipated and he carefully withdrew from her body.
“If you’re fishing for compliments, I felt a lot of things. Most of which I want to go back and feel again, soon.” She sighed tiredly. “If you’re asking if I felt my bones start to shift or my muscles pop, the answer is no, but the room turned red. Is it time?”
“Almost,” he said, regretfully.
She glanced up at the crystal, glowing golden now with a thin streak of red through its center. “It’s like a heart, or a lifeline.”
“It did that after the last time we made love but it didn’t stay. It means something. I just don’t know what.” He spooned around her, kissed her shoulder. “We have three days worth of food. If I hunt, the food might last long enough for us to figure out what it all means. There’s something the Council and the Guardians are both hiding and I’m pretty sure it’s the key to your survival.”
She pillowed her head on her arm and smiled. “You think there are more tests?”
“I think there’s something we’re missing but I’d rather figure it out before you try accessing the power again and pass out for two days. I never want to go through that again. For any reason.”
She rolled onto her back and gazed up at the Sacred Light. “It doesn’t seem to affect me when it changes. I mean, I feel the energy in the room, but it doesn’t hurt me.” She sighed, “Maybe if there were eleven more of me I’d have enough help to change.”
She glanced back at him and her smile dimmed. “You know, I think this is the first time in my life that I’m actually angry because I can’t change into my jaguar. It’s one more difference between us.” She frowned. “I really do suck at hunting though. You’d probably do better on your own anyway.”
“It could be as simple as just needing the time to heal. You’ve been through a lot.”
She shifted, looking into his eyes. She could see the change coming. “That soon?”
He slid away from her and stood up. “I don’t have to leave. I can stay with you.”
She shook her head. “If we have enough food for three days it’s because you haven’t been eating.” She stretched. “Go,” she demanded, waving him off.
Chapter Fourteen
Kira had been too sore to indulge in anything more than the slide and tug of Bastian’s lips and mouth before he’d left to hunt by the moon and honor his jaguar. She hadn’t been able to change and perversely, she ached to know what she once feared, the pull deep inside her that signaled some small part of her was still like Bastian.
It felt as if that link had been severed and she’d had no choice in the matter. Once it would have made her happy. Now she had to wonder if she would ever run with Bastian, hunt with hi
m. Stop bitching. He’s sworn to protect you forever.
They would protect each other.
She’d been over every inch of the walls and she just kept returning to this illuminated room. The crystal had remained golden, the thin red vein glowing at its center. It had changed but she hadn’t and she wanted to know why. The key was here, she was certain. She turned back to the glyphs.
What the hell was she missing?
“How appropriate to find you here.”
She whirled around, the familiar voice now dry and rough. Fontaine stood, dripping wet, his silver hair plastered against a face that looked as though it had met with a battering ram. One eye socket was empty, the cheekbone below it caved in, the flesh still pink and scabby. Fontaine!
He bounced a rock on the flat of one hand and she had just enough time to scream before he snapped his elbow and she felt the dull thud against her head. Lights burst behind her eyes and the world went dark.
When she woke, her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were secured with a strip of fabric he’d torn from his dirty tunic. She lay on the floor beneath the crystal, shivering, eyes closed tightly against the light. Her head hurt so bad that she had to pitch her body to one side so she wouldn’t choke when she vomited. Nausea rolled through her and when she finally opened her eyes, she was staring at bare, dirty feet and the edge of a filthy green tunic. She raised her gaze to meet his, knowing that if she screamed, he’d hit her again.
“Not exactly the luxury I had with Alvarez,” she said, remembering for a moment the feel of silk against her skin and another bastard who’d wanted to use her.
“Alvarez was a fool,” he spat. “He sold you to the Brotherhood for money and power and died for his betrayal.”
She wasn’t surprised that he’d killed Alvarez. But there was no reason to sell her to the Brotherhood unless they suspected she could access the power of the Light. She managed a laugh that bordered on hysteria. “How long have you been here?” And who else have you led here?
“I was waiting for a sign that the Sacred Light had accepted you.” He motioned to the red vein, pulsing down the center of the crystal.
She couldn’t imagine anything worse until he uttered his next words, accompanied by a frown that pulled at his shattered cheekbone and blackened eye socket.
“The Brotherhood knows they can use you to unlock a weapon that will make them gods among men—make everyone obey their will.”
Kira glanced from the carvings to the light above her. She’d been right. The females were the conduits that the Jaguar Warriors had used to defeat their masters. “It took twelve before. Why does everyone think an outlaw halfling can do this? At least tell me that. Why mixed blood?”
He leaned so close that his one mad eye was unable to focus. “Without the blood of both they could never be sure they could access both sides. You are the bridge to that power. You contain a source of Jaguar Warrior and a source of human DNA. You can control them both.”
Her pulse quickened and for the first time she could taste power, metallic and edgy. Felt it flow around her. Fontaine was so caught up in his theatrics that he couldn’t feel it. She reached for it, chanted her own pleas and it glowed brighter, just behind the blunt tip of the crystal. Like a live wire, her connection to the crystal—the conduit to collective consciousness—cracked like a whip.
“Your blood is the key to unlocking its power but it will never belong to the Brotherhood. Your sacrifice will unify the Jaguar People against the Council and usher in the Second Age of Jaguar, the age of Jaguar dominance,” he intoned, swaying to some imaginary beat.
He knelt beside her and closed his eye, mumbled something that sounded like a prayer and cut into her concentration. She lost the thread, grabbed for it, but it slipped away. Panic welled from deep inside her. The more she tried to shove it away the tighter it constricted her throat, her chest. She could barely breathe. She needed to concentrate but she was afraid of closing her eyes.
Chanting, he withdrew an oblong object concealed in a length of dark leather and unwrapped it. A primitive, curved blade protruded from a brown-stained, yellowed, bone handle. A weapon of man wielded by a Jaguar Warrior.
Help me. Help me.
She twisted away when he bent and opened her shirt. He raised his hands to the Sacred Light and his plea filled the room. He possessed a strength born of madness and one large hand pressed her torso flat, even as she struggled. Each time he lowered his arm she expected him to plunge the knife into her chest. They were so far underground that no one would hear her scream.
She screamed anyway, biting his hand when he clamped it over her mouth. She tried to flip sideways. She tried to roll away but she didn’t escape the sting of the small slice on her breast, above her nipple. Cursing in every language she’d learned on the streets, she continued to bite his hand, tried to bring her feet up to smack him in the head. He made another stinging slice. Angry tears rolled down her cheeks and she bit harder, tasting blood. She closed her eyes and expected another slice.
The blow knocked her head sideways. She opened her eyes, stunned, just as Fontaine screamed. A jaguar dragged him by the back of his neck, away from Kira. Fontaine twisted, blood gushing from the wound, and buried the blade along the jaguar’s shoulder. Bastian.
Bastian let go, biting at the knife, scrabbling backward while Fontaine, trailing blood, pulled himself across the floor, toward Kira. His voice was weak but she could hear his imploring chant as he drew nearer. He propped himself on his elbows, head bent, his scarred face a furious mask.
“Da-naa-hak-nahee!” he intoned, his voice shaking, angry, violent. He was imploring as the crystal sparked, turning red. He turned toward her and chanted again, his grimace ugly and mocking.
The ground began to rumble, the walls shook. Kira reached for the power and the jolt knocked her backward. She opened her mouth to scream and froze. Behind Fontaine, the air sizzled, dark with Bastian’s outline. He howled a chuffing bark as his bones lengthened and turned, folded inward. Kira heard the pop and grind of muscles as he formed from the inside out, watched him pull the blade from his shoulder and stagger as the ground beneath them heaved.
The ground shifted, the walls were buckling and beginning to fall. Kira tried to sit up but Sebastian was already beside her, lifting her. There would be no underwater escape today if what he thought was happening was happening.
He headed for the stairs, dodging pieces of wall and debris that fell from the ceiling as the temple folded in on itself, reforming like a Warrior, desperate and knowing it wasn’t going to survive.
He was forced to stop and untie Kira’s hands and feet when part of the stairway was blocked. They had to crawl through a small opening, up and out. He could feel fresh air on his face as he pushed her from behind and the ground began to sink. They made it to the outside stair, jumping two and three steps at a time as the rubble behind broke away, swallowed by the earth that had anchored it for centuries.
Glowing golden light shone from its center until the ground closed and the night, brightened only by the moon, surrounded them. Sangre de Luna was lost within the bowels of the earth, the last resting place of a lunatic who had used it as his shroud. Sebastian didn’t have time to worry about the ramifications that might hold.
He didn’t need light to know that Kira was in shock. She shook with a force that should have rattled her bones. As it was, her teeth chattered and she hugged her gaping, filthy shirt together, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
“You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he whispered, holding her while she shook.
“I should have been able to stop him. Why couldn’t I stop him?” she babbled, her tears coming faster. He needed to find shelter, get her warm, and convince her she was safe.
Some of the caves where the water fed into the bathing chamber might still be standing. They could hide there until…when? Until he could figure out a way to get access to his bank accounts without alerting the Council. That wasn�
��t going to happen. They didn’t have any leverage and all their clues were beneath the earth, buried with Fontaine.
The entrance to the caves from the pool had collapsed but three miles down the trail there was a small opening and enough room for him to wedge through. It was larger on the inside. He could touch the walls and ceiling if he stood and stretched his arms as far as they would reach.
He settled in behind her, cradling her in his arms. Her breathing steadied but she wasn’t asleep. Her body was tense, wary and ready to run. Finally, she settled and a strangled whisper leeched from her lips.
“I thought you wouldn’t be back until morning. I tried to access the Sacred Light but I couldn’t maintain the connection. I thought I was going to die.”
“I heard your cry for help.”
She turned slowly in his arms. It was too dark to see her face but he could hear surprise in her voice. “You couldn’t possibly have heard me. I didn’t cry out for help.”
“Inside my head. I heard you inside my head, like your voice was coming through a tunnel. I could feel it when he cut you.” He stroked over the slice above her nipple, already a raw scar. Hugging her closer, he closed his eyes and remembered the terror that had gripped him.
“He told me that my blood would unlock the power behind the Sacred Light, that it was a weapon, a conduit to collective consciousness. And Alvarez sold me to the Brotherhood for money and power.”
The truth had been staring him in the face all along. Hiding in plain sight.
“The Brotherhood doesn’t want to kill you. They want to use you. Do you have any idea what kind of power they could wield if they used the Sacred Light as a weapon? We won’t have an ally anywhere if the Council thinks the Brotherhood can use you as a conduit.”
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