Son of Sun (Forgotten Gods (Book 2))

by Clair, Rosemary

  When a familiar red bandana and singsong voice appeared in the fading daylight, I knew exactly who Chassan was preparing to attack.

  “No!” I screamed as he lurched forward. “Stop!” Recognizing his quarry as human in mid air, he twisted his body and landed with catlike reflexes almost in the same place he had been before.

  He turned to me with an animalistic hunger lighting his strange ochre eyes, his chest rose and fell with great heaving breaths, ones I knew weren’t from exertion, but the bloodlust of the hunt. If anyone saw him like this they would know something wasn’t right with him. They would suspect he wasn’t human. He was wild, unbroken, dangerous in a primal way.

  “Rhea?” I pushed off the tree I had fallen against. Running around Chassan, giving him a few precious seconds to compose himself. He looked physically pained as he pushed whatever demons had bubbled to the surface down to where they belonged, but I couldn’t stop to see about him if I was going to keep Rhea from knowing what he was…what we were.

  “Faye?” Her face wrinkled into a mix of surprise and squinted eyes as she peered through the falling evening light to where I approached.

  “I’m here, Rhea.” I reached for her hand, clasping it in my own as I pulled closer to her. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  “Looking for firewood,” she said, trying to peep over my shoulder to where Chassan stood with his back to us. I moved with her, blocking her view at every turn. “We’ve got a campsite set up over there.” She threw a hand behind her to point the way. “What are you doing? Found your soul at Machu Picchu already?” Her confused looked morphed into a naughty wink and she waggled an eyebrow at me as she nodded over my shoulder.

  “Um….” I blushed, looking down as I picked at my fingernails. “We’re headed to the Q’ero.” I shuffled from one foot to another nervously, knowing she was already deciding that Chassan and I were a thing.

  A rush of wind brushed my back, telling me Chassan was at my side. I traced up his arms, to his shoulders, over his neck, and then saw his strong features, which were arranged into the most welcoming smile instead of his trademark scowl.

  “Hello, I’m Chassan,” he said offering a friendly hand to Rhea as if he hadn’t been seconds away from killing her.

  “Chassan?” Rhea took his hand, tilting her head to the side as she studied his face.

  I wasn’t sure if she was trapped in the rugged curve of his smile, the deep, startling pool of his eye, or the same intangible force that pulled me to Dayne. Whatever the reason, Rhea was momentarily paralyzed by Chassan’s touch. He wrapped her hand in both of his. The smile fell from his lips and his face went blank, as if he was looking at her with some internal eye that was way stronger than normal vision. As Chassan focused a look hard enough to bore a hole in granite at her head, Rhea didn’t move a muscle.

  I looked between the two, so confused by the interaction I reached for Rhea out of sheer concern for her health. Chassan swatted my hand away, shaking his head with a solemn look. I crossed my arms at my chest and glared at him. What was going on?

  Chassan released her hand, and immediately, Rhea snapped out of it, shaking her head and standing up straighter, as if she hadn’t just lost the last five seconds of her life to whatever sun-god trickery Chassan was up to.

  “I know you!” She wrinkled her eyebrow again, this time in realization. “You’re a famous wildlife photographer, right?”

  Famous wildlife photographer? Chassan? My mind spun wildly, searching for a way to half-truth our way out of this one. Chassan was a lot of things, but he lived his life locked in a rock, not roaming the wilds with a camera on his back. Only, a sneeze could have knocked me down when Chassan nodded, dropping his head as if he were humbled by her recognition.

  What?!?

  I stood there, silently dumbfounded, eyes darting from Rhea to Chassan, and then lingering on Chassan like he was a complete stranger.

  “I love your work. You managed to make Peru come alive on paper like no one else.”

  Chassan looked sheepishly over at me and then back to her.

  “Thank you,” he said simply, bowing his head again.

  “Where are you guys camping?” Rhea crossed her arms against a chill that was beginning to seep into the falling night. By that point, I was struck to dumb staring, and totally incapable of speech.

  “We don’t know yet. We were just about to stop when you scared us half to death popping out of the woods like that.” Chassan playfully smiled at Rhea.

  “Well, stay with us. One of the guys in my group knew about this abandoned site in the woods. It’s perfect.”

  Until then, the fact that I was going to have to spend the night in the woods with Chassan, all by myself, hadn’t really registered. Realizing how unbearably long a night spent across the campfire from him would be, Rhea’s invitation was irresistible.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, but was already following her into the woods.

  “We’d be honored.” Rhea said, taking me under her arm. “Unless you wanted privacy,” she whispered in my ear, digging a finger in my ribs as we walked onto the path she had emerged from.

  “Oh!” I half yelled, stopping in my tracks as she continued on. “No...noooo... we’d love to stay with you!” I way overemphasized the ‘no’ to hopefully quench any thoughts Rhea had about the nature of our relationship. As far as Chassan and I were concerned, we were merely tolerating each other. And at that moment, Rhea seemed to know more about my traveling companion than I did.

  When Rhea disappeared ahead of me, I turned back to Chassan.

  “Famous wildlife photographer? Don’t you think you should have mentioned that?” I spat the words at him.

  “You didn’t ask.” His shrug was frustratingly easy, and he stepped around me to follow Rhea.

  “What was that hand shake thing you did to her?” I whisper-yelled at him, my patience slipping away.

  “Faye? Chassan? You coming?” Rhea’s voice cut through the grey night.

  “Later,” Chassan answered with a reprimanding look and disappeared into the dark.

  With nothing but shadows to light the path, we picked our way toward muffled voices and a fire’s soft glow, collecting twigs and branches to feed it as we went.

  Rhea’s campsite was nothing more than a clear, level spot in the forest. After hiking all day, my body and mind as exhausted as they were, it looked as luxurious as a five star resort.

  Five curious faces, bathed in shadow and golden flames, turned to us when we emerged from the forest, arms laden with firewood. Strangers were an oddity in country so remote, and the eyes cautiously welcomed us into their midst, both appraising and sizing us up. My stomach somersaulted with a pang of panic when the studious glances quickly passed over me and came to rest, with alarm, on Chassan, whose muscles bulged under the load of wood he carried.

  For an uncomfortable second no one moved, every eye locked on Chassan, whose chiseled features glowed like the magnificent golden god he was against shadowy firelight. The muffled voices fell silent. Only the fire dared to speak, crackling as it sent orange embers heavenward with its smoke. One brave soul collected his thoughts quickly enough to rise from his spot near the fire and make his way around the circle of blank faces to meet us. His welcome brought life back to the little group, stunned to dumb wonder at the strange beauty that had stumbled into their midst.

  “You’re never going to believe who I found wandering these woods!” Rhea exclaimed, dropping her arm load of wood beside a campmate’s makeshift kitchen.

  Our welcome was unenthusiastic, until Rhea informed them a celebrity was in their midst. When they discovered who Chassan was, they were falling over themselves to welcome him into their circle.

  All except for one.

  Two men, introduced as Professor Abrams and his research assistant, Todd, were practically salivating as they gingerly lifted Chassan’s camera from the rock he sat it on to remove his pack. Carefully clicking through his photos like they were
as priceless as Paititi gold. A native man, holding a long metal cooking fork, left his post as cook to look over their shoulders at the images causing such ruckus. A humble native woman, somewhere in age between Rhea and myself, offered Chassan a drink with a starstruck half smile. No way she knew who he was. She was simply enamored with a handsome man. An effect I was quickly learning Chassan had on most women.

  The one who acted as if nothing interesting had happened looked to be as old as the mountain itself. Two tails of flowing white hair, braided and caught with a length of leather, hung down his shoulders. Deep lines cut the length of his tanned face into ravines, making him appear both weathered and wise. He wore a simple shirt and hiking shorts, his attention focused on the stick he carved, not the commotion caused by our arrival.

  It was this man, whom Rhea called Luke, that Chassan chose to lay his bedroll beside when dinner was done. Pulling his own carving knife from a pocket on his pack and selecting one of the twigs from our pile. In their own silent way, they found an accord with one another.

  Directly across the fire from them, Rhea and I spread my own sleeping bag out beside her. A sleeping bag I had never seen before that moment. Cautiously digging through my pack as if it belonged to someone else, I was slightly floored to see Chassan had packed me a weeks worth of clothing and all the toiletries I would need for this trip. All while I was sleeping, and without any directions from me on size. I didn’t know if that made him awesome or creepy.

  “This sleeping bag feels like a feather bed!” Rhea exclaimed as we unrolled it on the ground. She flopped down on the overstuffed nylon and spread her arms and legs wide to enjoy its cool, cozy comfort. “Oh! I could sleep for days! Where’d you get it?”

  “Um….it’s Chassan’s.” I answered, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

  “So where did you get him?” Rhea asked in a low whisper as she rolled over to prop on her elbow, naughtily waggling an eyebrow. “Certainly wish my soul searching at Machu Picchu had found something like that!” She bit her lip as if Chassan might taste as good as he looked, stealing a peek through the flames to where he sat. I dropped my head, my hair falling forward to hide my blush.

  “Machu Picchu,” I answered simply.

  “Lucky dog. Why are you going to the Q’ero?”

  “Chassan’s idea,” I shrugged vaguely. Aware of the possibility that my face might be saying something else entirely, I began to study the zipper of my pack in great detail.

  “Don’t blame you a bit. I’d follow him just about anywhere he’d let me! Where have you been so far?”

  “I couldn’t tell you.” I said with a wrinkle-faced sigh, unable to recall anything but grasslands and forests from an entire day’s worth of hiking. Until one memory came into focus and my sigh turned to a frown. “Though, I did stumble on something this afternoon as we were hiking that I can’t get out of my mind.”

  “What’s that?” Rhea sat up, turning her back to the fire. I peeked over her shoulder to be sure no one else was listening.

  “I found an altar hidden in the jungle,” I whispered. “Chassan said it was used for human sacrifice?”

  Rhea raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and nodded her head solemnly. “No doubt. The area is much more primal than what you’ll find in the tourist cities. They worship the old gods, in the old ways.”

  I curled my lip in revulsion, brows drawn into a pucker as I thought about how barbaric it all was.

  “Um-hum,” Rhea nodded with a gravely empathetic look. “Not too long ago, archeologists found a small boy and girl on an altar in a mountain top cave not far from here. For centuries, the cold preserved them just as they were the day they died. Perfect little ice mummies. By the finery of their clothes it was determined they were royal children. Probably fed coca leaves so they would sleep and then left to freeze to death as an offering to the gods.”

  “Child sacrifice?” My body stilled in outrage. “That’s...that’s sadistic!”

  “To us, yes. To them, no.” Rhea shook her head sympathetically, casting a glance to where the native man and woman were lying on the ground fully clothed, curled into themselves without a fluffy sleeping bag to keep them warm. “Life is hard here, Faye. Death lurks around every corner for these people...disease, famine, accidents. It’s not an easy life. They’ve learned to see a beauty in death we could never comprehend.”

  “But why do they sacrifice themselves to gods who no longer exist?”

  “Who are you to say what does and does not exist?” Rhea frowned at me. “Do you know their gods?” It was a rhetorical question, but I almost blurted out ‘yes’ anyway. “These people believe that by offering one life to the gods many will be spared in return.”

  “So death is beautiful when it’s a selfless act?” I worried my teeth over my lip as I thought.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “There is no greater honor than sacrificing yourself to save others. It’s altruism in its purest form.” She crawled over to her own sleeping bag. “Isn’t there someone in this world you would give your own life to save?”

  When I looked over to where she sat her eyes drifted from me to Chassan, still bent to his carving across the fire.

  “Of course,” I answered, thinking of Dayne and how gladly I would throw away my own life to save his.

  Satisfied she had made her point, Rhea sighed and took a worn book from her pack, pulling on a headlamp to read.

  I said nothing more, turning back to the fire, pulling my knees to my chest as I stared into the flames. No doubt Chassan had witnessed countless victims sacrifice themselves over the years, lurking in the shadows, waiting to transport their soul to a god who had long since left this world. To them, that made him a god. But I wasn’t yet sure what that made him to me.

  Chassan was death. That much I knew. But there seemed little joy in it for him, only duty. Paititi was his home, yet he had run from that place and all its riches as soon as he could. Most people would be happy to sit in a place laden with such riches all day, counting their fortune. Not Chassan. He was repulsed by the gold hidden within its walls.

  And last night, when he came to me at his altar, in a heartbeat he could have killed me, but something stilled his hand. What that was, I didn’t know at the time. But sitting there, watching him blend so seamlessly with life, I had to wonder if it was death Chassan hated. But just like the native people who offered themselves as sacrifice, he had no way to escape it either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hands Off

  It was impossible to look away when I saw him, though I knew I should. The moment was so intensely intimate I found I held my breath for fear of disturbing him.

  When I awoke, I’d scurried off into the woods to take care of an urgent matter. Half tripping, half stumbling through the morning mist cloaked mountain side, I had not been prepared for the beauty that greeted me.

  Chassan stood precariously balanced on a jagged rock snaking high into the air over a bluff, his body completely free of the jungle foliage ensnaring my feet. Bare from the waist up, wearing only the dark hiking shorts he had worn yesterday. His smooth cafe-con-leche skin glowed like fire in the early rays of sun strong enough to penetrate the dense fog.

  Eyes closed, head back, muscles taut as a guitar string down the length of him as if he were physically pulling the sun into the sky, playing tug-of-war with mountains who refused to let it go. His chest flung forward as if his heart was about to leap from him and join the glowing orb on the horizon. Golden hair, burned to bronze in a light so strong it radiated sunrise hues of red and orange along the mountain peaks peeking beneath lumbering clouds. He didn’t acknowledge me, though a deadly hunter such as him would have sensed my approach for miles.

  Slowly, I backed away, turning down another trail. As I passed him, his figure turned from golden god into a shapely shadow blotting out the bright light in a complete silhouette. Despite the shadow, golden rays radiated off his body like steam rising from a lake.

  “How’d you sleep, Go
lden Eyes?” Rhea asked with a twisted smile when I stumbled into camp.

  “Golden what?” With my own face twisted into a question mark of confusion, I took up the other end of the sleeping bag she was folding and began to help her.

  “Golden eyes!” She whispered loudly.

  I shook my head and curled my brows into a confused line.

  “Why are you calling me that?”

  “Because every good hiker deserves a trail name, and I saw you watching that golden god basking in the sun this morning!” She nodded her head in a knowing way and I felt every drop of blood drain from my face to my toes.

  “No, Rhea. Please. You cannot call me that,” I pleaded with her, eyes wide with horrified embarrassment. It was bad enough Chassan knew I was watching him. If he thought, or even suspected, I enjoyed it, I would be beyond mortified.

  “It’ll be our secret,” she winked at me, a crooked smile tugging her lips.

  “What secret?” Chassan asked, appearing from the woods, pulling a thin T-shirt over his rippling abs. Couldn’t he have at least put that on before he entered the camp? I frowned at him when our eyes met and looked away.

  “Oh, girls have their secrets, Chassan. And our friend, Faye, is full of them!” Rhea took the end of the sleeping bag I offered her and reached out to pat Chassan’s back as he passed. His muscles flenched on contact, but it was such a minuscule movement I was certain I was the only one who had seen it.

  So, he didn’t like to be touched, but he was just fine with me watching him? Just as I thought I was figuring Chassan out he became a stranger all over again.

  Chassan was silent as we hiked along the trail that morning. We had stayed for breakfast with Rhea’s group and then parted ways. They wouldn’t be welcomed in Q’ero lands and had plans to investigate several sights around their base camp before moving on to another mountain in search of Paititi.