Spellbound Trilogy: The Wind Casts No Shadow, Heart of the Jaguar, Shadows in the Mirror

by Jeanne Rose

  "I had already planned to take the clothing from Louisa," Tezco was telling her. "One of our men will be wearing it tomorrow, along with a gun beneath the skirt."

  Xosi shrugged. "Whatever you think best. You should choose a small man, perhaps Juan or Eduardo."

  "Juan has a softer face."

  "Yes, he could pass for a woman." Had done so during one of their robberies in the past. "Give the clothing to Juan."

  Tezco went on, "We will use whatever means we must to leave this place. These terrible gods cannot live again -- they will take away our souls."

  He sounded so worried. And looked so thin.

  Worried in turn, Xosi slipped her arm about his waist. "I will not allow them to take you, my brother. But you must help yourself as well. Eat. You are skin and bones. You need your strength."

  "I cannot eat until we have escaped. I am not hungry."

  "Not even one tortilla? We will regain our freedom tomorrow. Please eat, for me."

  He sighed.

  "I will send a servant for a plate of food." Which she would inspect herself to make sure no more bloody raw meat appeared. "Eat and then try to rest, at least for a little while."

  For they would have a day from hell tomorrow.

  Though Xosi was considering a plan that could also buy them heaven.

  STARS FILLED the heavens and a bright crescent of a new moon had risen in the east. Louisa leaned against Sam as they climbed the slope in the semi-darkness.

  "The pool's only a little farther – it'll be nice and warm."

  "Not that we'll be able to see much." He tightened the arm he'd slung about her shoulders "Since we're taking off our clothes, I'd like to fully appreciate you."

  Again, heat spread from her center. "We can see with our hands."

  She'd been afraid to bring a candle from the house. Most people were asleep in the middle of the night but the barranca was heavily guarded. Earlier, Tezco had taken pains to sneak the guns he had promised to the captives, along with some serapes under which to hide them. He said a couple of his men would have some horses ready the next day but Louisa had suggested she fetch the mounts for her own group. She knew the Indian method of stringing several horses along on a rope and would feel safer, in case the bandits decided to ride off and let them fend for themselves.

  Thank God, she wouldn't have to make an appearance at the pyramid. Tezco had lined up an imposter.

  She mused on that. "Beaufort Montgomery is going to be very surprised tomorrow."

  "Let's not talk about him. I don't want to ruin this night."

  She knew he was thinking the same thing as she -- that either or both of them could be hurt or killed tomorrow. It made each word and touch bittersweet. She glanced back at the narrow valley where campfires blazed here and there in the darkness. How many followers did the madman have? How could so many honor a leader who worshipped slaughter and death?

  At least the love she had for Sam paid homage to life. She wanted him to live to be an old man and she wanted to be around to see that herself. She wanted to obtain a little immortality for both of them by having children...

  For which she would require a wedding ring, however.

  She realized Sam had never said anything about marriage, though surely that's what he planned if they managed to escape. Surely he would be able to forget the horrible experience that had soured the Army for him.

  Not that she had time to worry about that now.

  The soft gurgle of water told her they were nearing the spring-fed pool. "Wait." She halted. "To the left."

  He took a couple of steps in that direction until she could see the glimmering reflection of moonlight on the pool's surface. Then she threw down the blanket she carried and started taking off her clothes -- first the boots, then her trousers, then her shirt. Sam did the same, emerging pale against the darkness surrounding him.

  She realized she'd never seen him completely naked. They'd made love partially clothed six years before and then again at El Tigre's corral. And she wouldn't see him naked tonight either, though she hadn't been joking about letting touch stimulate their imaginations.

  Louisa considered approaching him and running her hands over his chest, his arms...exploring every inch of flesh. But a cool wind whispering down from the mountains made her shiver and drove her toward the water.

  "Come on in. The pool slopes gradually and isn't very deep."

  "There's no problem. I can swim." He followed her with soft splashing sounds. "Um-m-m, this is warm."

  But his skin felt hot when he took her in his arms. She slid against him, catching her breath in pure unadulterated pleasure at the sensation. He was at least half a foot taller but in the bouyant water, she easily stood on tip-toe, grazing her breasts against the hair-roughened hardness of his upper chest. An expulsion of breath told her she was having an effect on him, too.

  She clasped his arms, taut with muscle, then slid her palms up and over his shoulders, his neck, into the thick curly silk of his hair. She touched his face, felt the long scar that stood for such terrible inner pain. He'd never told her how he'd gotten it but she suspected some Apache had sliced him with a knife.

  "Louisa," he murmured softly and pressed her closer, covered her mouth with a fierce kiss.

  She gloried in the taste and feel and smell of him. Beneath the water, he was fully aroused, rock-hard. She grasped him, caressed him until he groaned.

  "Damn it, not so fast..."

  He took her hand, moving it away, angled his head to kiss her again. She bit his lips, made little moaning sounds as his tongue invaded. He cupped her breasts, brushed her aching nipples with his thumbs. Then he replaced his fingers with his mouth, sipping at one breast, then the other. The heat of his mouth made her insides quake.

  Water rippled gently around them but they were alone in the vastness of the night with its wheeling stars and glowing moon. Sam lifted her in the water, let her slide back down. The friction of skin against skin was exquisite, as was the way their legs intertwined.

  He kissed her again and played with her long braid. "I wish I could undo this, let it fall to your waist."

  She started to say her hair would just get all wet and that they could let it down next time...until she remembered there might not be a next time.

  She turned in his arms. "Go ahead, undo it."

  Her back pressed against Sam's front felt equally titillating. Quickly, he unwound her long braid, letting her hair float around them. Then he nibbled her throat and slipped his arms about her, weighing a breast with one hand while the other slid lower to find the silky thatch between her thighs. Instinctively, she parted them, allowing the invasion of his insistent, exploring fingers. He quickly drove her crazy with desire. He stroked her over and over, invaded more deeply, made her slippery with wetness, made her burn. His shaft lay hot and heavy against her inner thigh.

  She undulated her hips, moving with his fingers' rhythm. Pressure building within her so quickly and suddenly she couldn't stop it, she panted, shuddering with intense release.

  "Louisa," Sam whispered near her ear, simply holding her.

  When she came to her senses, he lifted her again, turned her in the water to face him. She opened her legs, wound them about him as he brought her back down to impale her. He filled her soft tight folds so deliciously she cried out and writhed against him. Hands on her rounded hips, he rocked them, thrusting. But he kept up the rhythm for only a few minutes before he started moving back to shore.

  "I want you under me, on the blanket," he said hoarsely.

  He carried her out, reluctantly breaking their union to let her down. She lay back on the blanket and he loomed over her, knelt to part her legs with thighs hardened by years of riding. Positioning himself above her, he rubbed himself against her, teased her nether lips with the tip of his penis.

  Arching, Louisa grasped him, pulled him inside. His arms trembling, he groaned and thrust hard, once again filling her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, she gripped
his back as he began moving, rocking back and forth...and the ground moved beneath her.

  Sam rode her hard with a strong, driving rhythm. Sweet, yearning pressure building within her again, she swung her hips, sank her nails into his shoulders. Indeed, the very earth was moving, the tremors sharper, harsher than those that had come before. Then she lost herself in the harshness of Sam's breathing. He lifted her hips, plunged deeper and faster...until her need spiraled into white-hot rapture.

  "Oh, Sam!"

  At the sound of his name, he stiffened, shuddering with his own quaking release. Then he collapsed atop her. They lay there, breathing slowly returning to normal, even as the ground stopped rumbling beneath them. What did they mean, these tremors? Were the old gods angry at being summoned? Gooseflesh on her arms and legs, Louisa clung to Sam as if this might be their last moment on earth together.

  "I love you, Sam."

  "And I love you."

  Louisa also loved life. After years of sorrow and separation, she longed to be with Sam, to embrace life with him. Surely the good spirits would realize that, look kindly on them tomorrow, let them escape those who would take everything away.

  THE POWERFUL TOOK what they needed from the weak.

  Having been bathed and combed and dressed for bed by several servants, Beaufort/Quetzalcoatl found he couldn't sleep.

  But then, his excitement for the coming events didn't make for a restful atmosphere. He would soon feel the full power of the greatest, highest god. Simply thinking of that made his heart beat faster, his breath come faster, the organ between his legs grow hard.

  Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, he tried to keep his mind on higher issues. He would soon hold complete dominion not only over quaking humans but also over the lesser deities.

  A great responsibility.

  Tezcalipoca could be a particular problem.

  For Beaufort had long sensed a disturbance coming from Smoking Mirror's direction. He would have to make sure that the sun's fiery rays kept the god of night and shadows in his place.

  Fire. Beaufort stared at the flame of the candle flickering nearby, envisioning it as a holy glowing serpent. A gust of wind from the open window only added to that effect as the flame danced.

  The wind also brought the soft sound of someone moving about outside. Thinking a servant had dared to walk near his private quarters unbidden, Beaufort rose on his elbows, ready with a rebuke...only to be startled by the shadows outside gathering, darkening, taking shape...a voluptuous shape.

  Wearing only a light wrap about her waist and a flower in her long loose hair, Xochiquetzal came to the window, smiling. She dropped the wrap as soon as she crawled over the deep sill.

  "What are you doing here?" Beaufort asked, mesmerized by the swing of her full breasts and curvaceous hips, the enticing sight of the nest of dark hair between her legs.

  "I have come to amuse you."

  "Quetzalcoatl is --"

  "A great god who may have anything he wishes," she finished, approaching the bed wafting enticing feminine scents.

  Before he could think to protest, she delved beneath his robe to find him turgid, nearly bursting. Raising the garment, she quickly knelt atop him.

  He groaned.

  "Anything," she repeated before showing him exactly what that meant.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SAM WOULD GIVE about anything to have the day over with. Standing with Shorty and Jake O'Brian near the back of the crowd gathered for Beaufort Montgomery's big procession, he couldn't help worrying about Louisa. He hoped the sombrero and charro suit would adequately disguise her. He could only pray that she'd appear with the horses as scheduled...when he and the two cowboys opened the gates at the end of the canyon, allowing both the bandits and their former captives to escape.

  Sam himself wore a sombrero pulled down tight to cover his light-colored hair. As did Shorty and Jake. All three men made use of the serapes Tezco had provided, under which they carried both rifles and handguns.

  People in the crowd probably wouldn't notice them anyway, caught up as they were in the festivities. Many of the men wore cloaks or serapes over white cotton tunics and pants, while the women wore shawls and brightly embroidered white dresses. Flowers nestled in elaborately coiled hair, earrings dangled and toothy smiles gleamed on nearly everyone's faces. From their sometimes vapid expressions and glassy eyes, Sam imagined many had been indulging in pulque, an intoxicating Mexican drink made from agave plants.

  The captives, on the other hand, were cold sober and alert, even if they'd lost a few hours of sleep.

  Thinking about what had kept him awake brought a smile to Sam's face. He and Louisa had made love half the night.

  A nudge from Shorty drew him out of his indulgent reverie. "Hey, I think the parade's starting."

  Sam straightened, glanced at the other men and shifted the rifle held tightly against his side. The crowd cheered, some playing the flutes and little drums he'd last heard the day Tezco's bandits had arrived in the canyon.

  Led by a band, the participants wore costumes that looked plenty exotic -- women with finely-worked gold and turquoise headbands, embroidered tunics, fringed skirts and thick-soled sandals with squared-off toes; men with leg-bands and quilted tunics that resembled armor over their loincloths, feathers sprouting from their hair.

  As one, the crowd suddenly hushed. The people bowed, prostrating themselves to the gods. Resentfully, Sam nevertheless dropped to the ground as well.

  Shorty and Jake followed, the former grousing, "Look at Montgomery all decked out like some kinda king!"

  The madman sported a magnificent towering headdress of gold and feathers, a gold snarling face flanked by jade snakes around his neck, and an intricate feathered cloak trailing the ground. Behind him came Tezco, a jaguar skin fastened at one shoulder, a gold ornament with long blue-green quetzal feathers holding back his long hair. Tiny silver mirrors sparkled on his heavy gold neckpiece.

  "Look at all that gold outta the treasury," Jake muttered.

  "I can understand why the bandits wanted to pull off a robbery," Sam said in a low voice. "What I can't fathom is why Tezco wants out now."

  "Maybe them death spirits Monte talked about are trying to possess him."

  That would mean those spirits had actually lived during the Aztec culture. West Point-educated and, like any good Anglo, taught to accept only what he could see – other than matters surrounding the Christian God, of course – Sam said, "I find that hard to believe."

  But Tezco obviously believed. Serious-faced, the bandit leader revealed his unease only by darting eyes which locked with Sam's in passing. Sam gave a subtle nod, noting the guards accompanying the gods, one of whom was Monte Ryerson dressed in a white loincloth and embroidered cloak. Black-haired and dark-skinned, he blended with the rest.

  To ensure the escaping band's safety, Ryerson would force Montgomery himself to come away with them at gunpoint. With Ryerson and Tezco and Juan playing the sacrificial victim all in league, that shouldn't be impossible.

  A series of gun shots would notify the men bringing the horses. And Louisa.

  Worrying about her again, Sam watched the long procession split, flowing to either side of the steps at the base of the great pyramid. Then the gods ascended, guards on either side.

  At the top, Montgomery raised his arms. "Rise, children! The gods have come!"

  The crowd rose from the ground and cheered as the madman started jabbering in that language Ryerson called Nahuatl. A fire burned behind Montgomery at the big altar. Feathered cloak sweeping about him like giant bird wings, he turned to pick up something shiny and held it aloft.

  "Behold a portion of the wheel of life and death! Today, I shall join the broken pieces, make it whole once again! The sun will live forever! The eternal gods will bless you! Quetzalcoatl has returned!"

  When a cloud suddenly drifted over the canyon, blotting out the sun, Sam thought it passing strange. And whether he willed it or no, the hairs on the back
of his neck stood at attention.

  The crowd around him buzzed, voices low.

  And Montgomery himself seemed to hesitate. But only for a second. "The bravest heart of all shall feed the gods!"

  Dressed in a white tunic and skirt of finely woven cotton, wearing gold jewelry and a huge fan-shaped headdress of feathers, the sacrificial victim marching up the steps of the pyramid, surrounded by guards, seemed a little unsteady.

  And sure resembled a woman. Sam narrowed his eyes, thinking that the bandit named Juan must have stuck some pads of cloth under the tunic to give himself the illusion of breasts. At the top of the pyramid, the guards paused, holding onto the victim while Montgomery turned his back to speak to the fiery altar again.

  More clouds drifted overhead, thickening, turning the sky gray. Gooseflesh rose on Sam's arms as he thought about the small, warning quakes the night before. Determined, he tried to focus on the scenario before him...where the victim suddenly removed the tunic, revealing a pair of lovely rounded breasts.

  Breasts? Sam was stunned. That victim sure wasn't Juan.

  Something had gone very wrong.

  Had the guards gotten hold of Louisa, after all?

  Panicking, he took off, trying to fight his way through the tightly packed crowd, completely forgetting his tactical plan, paying no attention to Jake calling after him. He was going after the woman he loved, would climb the pyramid with guns blazing.

  Sam was determined to save Louisa this time, even if he had to trade his own life for hers.

  XOSI HAD FELT more than a little dizzy as she'd climbed the pyramid, feared there had been more than pulque in the cup the guards had given her. She should have known better, should have realized it contained a drug to keep her quiet.

  Still, she would prevail, she told herself, despite her vision being slightly blurred, her thinking somewhat muddled, her hearing off kilter. There seemed to be a low drone in the air, a rumble that sounded like faraway thunder. She glanced up at the suddenly overcast sky. A wind slapped her cheeks as if a storm were rising. But she was not afraid, not of anything. Beaufort Montgomery would be shocked but he would not be able to kill her, after having made love to her the night before.