Mystical Seduction

by Dorothy McFalls

  They were meant to be together. Even if she had to give up everything to move to a painfully civilized part of the world and into a tidy home surrounded by a white picket fence to make him happy—if it kept him happy—she’d be willing to make the sacrifice. She hoped.

  “We can take a break in an hour or so,” she said as she jumped over a large rock. “I packed you a candy bar.”

  That brought a smile to his lips.

  Yes, Faith thought, it is good thing he brought me. She had the experience to carry out expeditions like this one. And if she hadn’t been here to take control of the map, Horace would probably be wandering around in circles right about now.

  “There’s the trail to the village,” she said, pointing toward the south.

  Horace squinted at an overgrown section of the forest crowded with weeds and vines. “Where?”

  In the tropics, vines grew with such speed that Faith sometimes felt as if their living tendrils were reaching out for her. She pushed aside the recent growth. The ground below the vines had been packed from centuries of use. “Here,” she said.

  “Doesn’t look like a trail,” he grumbled as he followed her up the steep incline.

  Horace looked so adorably put out that her heart squeezed. Her lover, her soul mate was at her side as she forged forward, following her passion. Everything felt right with the world.

  She wondered how long it would last.

  ****

  It took a full three days to reach the village Faith’s parents had marked on the map. Horace had been glad for the company and for Faith’s unerring sense of direction. He’d been even happier to have her around at night. To have her under the stars.

  Only once did they have to stop in the middle of the day to cool his swirling powers that now lived within Faith’s body.

  But he was worried. This morning she’d awoken with that strange glow encircling her head, and she’d been suspiciously quiet. Horace could tell she’d been brooding about something for the past few days. Apparently, whatever ate at her had finally taken its toll. When Horace asked her about it, she’d brushed off his concerns and assured him that she felt fine.

  An obvious lie.

  By the time they’d stopped for lunch, sparks sizzled in the air. Still, Faith insisted she could handle his powers, and whatever else was troubling her. It wasn’t until she’d accidentally set a nearby tree on fire that she finally admitted defeat.

  “I can’t,” she whispered while silent tears washed her face.

  Horace gently stripped off her clothes and dipped her in a nearly mountain stream where a small waterfall had created a natural whirlpool. The cool swirling water teased their bodies.

  Holding her in the pool of water, he touched her, caressed her, and found her ready for him.

  He didn’t need any encouragement. He took Faith hard and fast. She climaxed almost immediately as she clung to him. He felt her need for him so sharply that he fought off taking his own pleasure while he brought her to her peak for a second time.

  Afterwards, Horace wrapped Faith in a blanket, and simply held her. Stroking his fingers through her damp hair. “Are you ready to talk about what’s been bothering you yet?”

  She shook her head as if trying to push away her emotions. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide her feelings, not when Horace could clearly read them in the tears that still floated in her eyes.

  But until she was ready to talk, Horace remained content to cradle Faith in his arms, patiently waiting and praying she would find it in her heart to open up to him.

  “This is the life I want,” she said after a long tense silence, her voice husky and rough. “I’m not trying to prove myself to my parents. Not anymore. I love getting out into the world. I love learning about new civilizations. And learning from them.”

  She pushed him away and swept her arm in an expansive arch. “If I married you, I’d miss this. I don’t want to have to give up my dream in order to be with you. But, I suppose I’ve already given it up. I can’t be apart from you ever...not without risking blowing up like a Roman candle on steroids.”

  “There’s no reason to worry about your future, Faith. I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll take care of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. You know how I feel about you.”

  Hugging the blanket tightly around her slender shoulders, Faith paced the small clearing. “That’s the problem, I don’t know where I stand with you! Am I your servant? Your plaything? Or will you let me be more? Are you willing to let me into that tight shell you’ve built around your heart? Are you willing to treat me like your mate, your partner?”

  Before Horace could find an answer, she plowed on. “I had no choice in this. You didn’t either,” she admitted. “And I’m trying to deal the best way I know how. But it’s hard, Horace. I feel as if I’m being asked to give up everything.”

  God, he didn’t want that. “I don’t want you to give up anything,” he said quietly. “I would never ask that of you.”

  “But you’re unhappy out here, out where I need to be in order to follow my dreams.” She glanced at her hands. They’d started to glow again. “I don’t know what I expected out of life. But not this. Never this.” She sighed deeply, and her golden aura dimmed. “If you followed me, we’d only be miserable together. You don’t want to be traipsing through the forests of the world. Look at you, you’re already miserable.”

  “Give me a chance to learn how to make you happy.” He’d learn to love what she loved if that was what it took. “Stop fighting me at every turn, Faith. Let me show you how you can be happy with me.”

  She shook her head and turned away from him. He was pretty sure he heard her say, “it won’t be enough.”

  Before he had a chance to demand she tell him what she wanted from him—confounding woman, she shouldn’t make him guess—the leaves beside them rustled.

  Horace glanced up. A slender, brown-skinned man stepped into the emerald-hued clearing.

  “Welcome back,” the man said.

  And Horace remembered.

  ****

  “I can’t believe it. You remember?” Faith asked. She tightened her hold on the blanket she’d wrapped around her shoulders like a native dress. Since they were no longer alone, she set out in search of her discarded clothes. Her shirt hung on a branch. And her khakis and underwear had been left at the water’s edge. With a deep blush, she quickly gathered them into her arms. “You remember everything?”

  Horace shook his head. “Not everything. Only this place and the people who live here. I’ve been here before.”

  The slender man, who Horace had introduced as Muk, nodded in agreement. “You look very much like your parents, Faith Summers,” he said. He grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you,” Faith replied. Her hold on the blanket covering her tightened even more as she pried her hand from Muk’s sturdy grasp.

  Her emotions and her scientific mind battled. Part of her wanted to run all the way back to Chicago, or even further. And cry.

  She had no right to ask Horace to change for her. She doubted he could even if he wanted to.

  On the other hand, the scientist in her demanded she stay and learn what needed to be learned about Muk and his people and how they might be able to help Horace.

  After she’d dressed and combed her wet hair, Muk led them along a narrow trail that climbed up along the side of a steep cliff. The exertion, along with the late afternoon sun beating down on her shoulders, soothed her.

  “It is a happy coincidence that my parents stumbled across your village last summer. We wouldn’t have been able to find you otherwise.”

  Muk slowed his step and glanced over his shoulder at her. “There are no coincidences.”

  “What do you mean?” Most South American cultures believed in the influence of fate in some form or another. But the knowing look in his eye when he answered her made her wonder if he wasn’t sugge
sting that this meeting had been somehow engineered.

  “That is exactly what I mean,” Muk said.

  “You read minds?” Horace asked.

  Muk had started to answer, but halted mid-sentence. “How much does she know?” he asked.

  “As much as I do.”

  “I was not certain since she is not—” Muk flashed Faith a wide smile. “Good. Good. That makes everything easier.”

  Muk paused to help Faith climb up onto a ledge with Horace lending a hand from below. The trail had turned steeper than her short legs could manage.

  “I’m not what?” she asked once she stood on steady ground again. “And what do you mean there are no coincidences?”

  “She is filled with questions,” Muk said as he turned to help Horace climb up onto the ledge. “Not at all like you were.”

  “I think she deserves an answer,” Horace said as he brushed the dust and leaves off his jeans. A waste of time, in Faith’s opinion. His clothes would only get dirty again. He definitely wasn’t cut out for the wilderness.

  While the two of them might light up the night in the bedroom, they had a long way to go to be compatible under the sharp glare of the sun. The more time she spent with Horace, the wider their differences seemed to grow.

  “Do not worry, little cub,” Muk said, softly to Faith. “That impetuous act you are trying to convince yourself to regret was meant to happen. There are no coincidences.”

  “Even fate has been known to make horrible matches from time to time. Legends are filled couples brought together by forces beyond them only to experience tragic ends.”

  “True. True,” Muke said. “But have a little faith about him.” He nodded toward Horace. “He has a good heart.”

  “But that might not be enough.”

  Muk shrugged. “You had asked about your parents. They did not stumble across our tribe. No, we lured them here since we knew Horace would need help finding us. His memories of us are blocked, you see.”

  “I know,” Faith said.

  “We chose your parents, knowing they would be in a position to guide him. We showed them what they needed to see.”

  “But that was a nearly a year ago. I hadn’t started working at Club West. I hadn’t even met...”

  Muk nodded again. She was beginning to resent that knowing look of his. Muk suddenly reminded her of the mysterious Frank Stone.

  And then it dawned on her. “You’re one of them.”

  Muk reached out his hand and helped Faith scramble up one last ledge. The three of them had reached the top of the cliff. Faith straightened her back as she gazed out over a wide, flat plateau. Mixed in with the grassland on this high peak, stood a typical indigenous village with about a dozen thatched roofed huts, made from mud and stone ringing the opening of a cave. A herd of wooly alpacas roamed freely, munching on the sparse grasses.

  “Welcome, wanderer, to the Lost Tribe of the Incas,” Muk shouted and gave a theatrical bow that had his knuckle scraping the ground.

  Dozens of men and women, dressed in beautifully dyed fabrics woven from alpaca wool and bearing the stunning facial features of their Incan ancestors, emerged from the small huts and started to crowd around Faith and Muk. A small, dark-haired woman touched Faith’s hair and cooed.

  The settlement was as wonderful as her parents had described. Faith warmly greeted everyone she met on the plateau. Her anthropologist mind kicked into high gear. She pulled out a notebook and started to ask a couple of friendly women detailed questions about their lives. This was an opportunity of a lifetime, the kind of stuff that turned doctorate theses into best-selling books.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Horace warned as he walked up behind her. “None of them are human.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Faith refused to believe it. These wondrously friendly villagers had to be human. She couldn’t imagine anyone looking more human or more tied to the earth.

  The small tribe lived in the most primitive conditions, much like Faith would have found if she were to travel back in time several thousand years. And they appeared to be very similar to the Aymaran people living in this region. Very similar except for one marked difference.

  Faith could find no children anywhere.

  The people living high on this cliff ledge were all over the age of twenty. A few looked to be closer to a hundred years old.

  Within the circle of their friendly greetings, she felt especially drawn to Muk, who described himself as the local sorcerer, which surprisingly enough was a lowly position in Incan society. Even so, Muk had a ready smile and, unlike Horace, no compulsion against being completely honest with her. So perhaps Muk, the sorcerer was a Protector. But the rest of the tribe? No. Faith simply didn’t see how that could be so.

  “You’ll be safe with Muk,” Horace promised shortly after their arrival. He was then rushed away to speak with the village leader, Sapa, a man who looked old enough to have remembered the ancient ones. Sun-baked wrinkles set so deep in his leathery skin that they had started to gray in spots.

  While Horace and the leader spoke, Muk showed Faith around the village, answering her endless litany of questions until her stomach growled so loudly Muk insisted they take a break.

  “I am confused by your relationship with Horace. Though you have obviously mated with him, there seems to be something missing,” Muk observed as Faith filled a wooden bowl with a potato stew that smelled both savory and sweet.

  No kidding, Faith thought. They were missing the most important elements of a relationship—honesty, trust, love.

  “Do you care to explain?” he asked.

  She didn’t see any reason not to talk to someone about the thing that had tied her normally logical heart into knots. “The assassin who tried to kill us several times told me that Horace had mated with me all wrong. The man was most upset about it, too.”

  “Someone is trying to kill you?” Muk dropped his bowl. The hot sticky stew splattered all over Faith’s pants. “Why did you not tell us this right away?”

  He snatched her bowl away from her—she tried to get it back, the stew had only reminded her that she’d skipped lunch. He tossed the food on the ground, which nearly made her cry, and dragged her to the small hut where Horace still met with the tribal leader.

  In the dim light, she spotted Horace sitting on a woven mat with the wizened leader hovering over him. The man lightly touched Horace’s temples, which made Horace flinch with pain.

  Using an unfamiliar and formal version of the Aymara language, Muk apologized to Sapa for intruding. “There is a matter of great importance that must be attended,” he finished in a breathless rush.

  Horace turned toward Faith.

  Sapa, too, turned toward them and gave a nod, indicating that Faith should take a seat on the red and black woven mat next to her lover.

  “She is his queen. It is only right that she should be here,” he said. “Welcome to our humble land, Faith Summers. We are honored by your presence.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, and then grabbed her stomach when it growled again.

  “You let her go hungry?” Sapa asked Muk in a sharp tone.

  “There was no time—” Muk started to protest but then stopped himself. “I am humbly sorry.”

  With a wave of Sapa’s hand, two women rose and rushed from the hut.

  “Are you okay?” Faith whispered the question.

  Horace looked anything but okay. She knelt down on the mat next to him. She’d never seen him with his defenses completely torn away.

  “No,” he whispered back. “This is too much. I don’t want to remember what happened to me. I don’t want to know any of this.”

  “But you must,” Sapa said. “It is your fate.”

  “No.” Horace violently shook his head. “I never asked for this to happen. And it’s not fair to Faith, either.”

  “What isn’t?”

  Sapa drew his thin lips into a long line. “First, we must hear what Muk has to say.” />
  “Thank you,” Muk said, his voice soft. “Faith Summers has told me that a man tried to kill them.”

  “What man?” Sapa demanded.

  “We took care of him,” Horace said.

  The women Sapa had sent away returned with two bowls of stew. Horace refused the one offered to him. Faith didn’t have his willpower. Though worry ate at her, she knew she couldn’t help figure out what was going on if half-starved from hunger.

  “What man?” Sapa asked Faith, his accent heavy.

  She had to swallow the food she’d stuffed into her mouth before she could answer. Horace wasn’t any help. He watched her with what appeared to be a mixture of amusement and dread.

  Once she could talk, she described Ballou and explained how he’d taken several shots at both her and Horace. She also added that he nearly killed her parents with a power that wasn’t of this world. The frightening memory of how she’d nearly lost two of the most important people in her life triggered a cold sweat.

  “Ah, a powerful creature. We fear him as well,” Sapa said with a nod.

  “You know of him? What was he?” Faith asked.

  “I do not exactly know,” Sapa admitted. “There are others like him. They come here sometimes. They come because of what is in our cave. I believe they are foot soldiers of a more powerful force. They are the ones who brought Horace to us six years ago.”

  “But why?”

  “Because of what is in the cave,” Sapa answered as if it were as simple as that.

  With Sapa’s veiled answers and Horace’s lack of interest in his mysterious missing years, Faith found herself quickly losing her patience. With an angry huff, she slammed her bowl of stew on the ground.

  “What the hell is in the cave? Gold? Treasure?”

  “A window to another world,” Horace answered.

  “You remember the cave now?” she asked.

  He nodded slowly. “It’s fuzzy, but ever since we saw Muk, my past has been returning.”

  “The protective walls are dissolving,” Sapa said approvingly. “You have found your mate. It is time you return. That was the promise you had said you’d made with them.”

  “With who?” Faith asked.