by Nancy Gideon
He stroked her hair back with a tender gesture, his grin full of cocky certainty. “Oh, I think you have plenty of hell left over."
Her brows knit together in concern as she noticed the crusted blood stains on his chin and shirtfront. “Are you all right? Alexander said he'd killed you."
"I'm sure he did his best, but thanks to your uncle, he didn't quite succeed."
She glanced over his shoulder to where Peyton Samuels stood uneasily awaiting her judgment. A riot of emotions swirled through her, not the least of them hurt and fury at his betrayal of her parents, then sadness at his many losses. “I think we have some talking to do, Uncle Sam."
"You're willing to listen?"
"And to learn how to accept what's done and over and move on."
As they spoke, Rosa Kelly was breathing her last. Bright splashes of her blood fell upon the stones and down into the maw of the tomb. Her thoughts were of the treasure, of seeing it close up, of touching it, claiming it. She tried to drag herself toward the opening. And as she tried to focus her failing eyesight, she was mesmerized by twin points of light, fiery dots that grew larger and more compelling. Her hand dropped away from her mortal wound as she stared, hypnotized by the steady glow of red.
And when she finally realized what came with those fascinating beacons, it was too late to even scream.
With a ravenous roar, the ancient deity sprang from its imprisoning bastion, lured by the scent of blood and its eternal hunger. While Sheba, Frank, Samuels and a writhing Alexander watched in helpless horror, the beast fell upon Rosa Kelly to suck up the last of her life force.
It was the nightmare of Sheba's restless dreams, the horror that had destroyed her family and now threatened the others that she loved. As it straightened from Rosa's drained corpse, her blood dampening its hideous teeth, Sheba beheld the stuff of legends—all the terrors, all the evils, all the destructive powers embodied in the creature before her. She recognized it from the descriptions told to her in frightened whispers. Half-beast, half-man with red eyes and fangs.
And she'd scoffed. She hadn't believed, not until this moment, not even when her memory returned. After all, how accurate could the recall of a traumatized child be? Some of the details must have been exaggerated. Nothing could be as horrible as the tales told around her ancestors’ fires.
Until she saw it with her own eyes.
Logic couldn't deny it. Reason couldn't explain it away. It was what it had been for centuries—the bane of her ancestors’ existence, the force behind their fears and the focus of their worship.
And it would not be satisfied with only one sacrifice now that its rest was disturbed.
"Run!” Samuels cried in panic. But then he stood paralyzed as the creature growled and pinned him with its red glare.
"No,” Sheba cautioned. “We've got to get it back in the tomb. We can't let it leave here. It mustn't escape. It will destroy my people. It's power will be unstoppable once it's had its fill of victims."
"I, for one, never cared to play the victim.” Frank set her behind him as he measured the distance between them and Rosa's body. “I think I can make it."
"What do you mean?” She gripped his arm.
"To the gun. It's still got nearly a full clip."
"Silver bullets aren't going to stop this monster!"
"I'm open for other suggestions.” He pried her hand off and began to slowly circle to the right. The beast immediately tracked his progress, the spines bristling up along its backbone. “Sam, distract it for a second. Don't be a hero. I just need a second."
"Any longer, and I'll be a late snack,” the old man muttered. But he obligingly waved his arms and called, “Over here, you spawn of hell. That's right. I may be old, but I've still got juice. Come and get it."
It moved like heat lightning, streaking across the room in a flurry of teeth and claws and bloodied froth. As Samuels did his best to evade the charge, Frank dove, coming up with the pistol. As the creature snapped for Peyton's throat, Cobb fired, again and again, the bullets penetrating the unnatural form without effect until his clip was empty.
They were going die.
Sheba couldn't let it happen. She couldn't surrender up these two men who meant everything to her, not for the sins of ignorance and greed of her people's past. Only she had the power to stop it now. She, with her royal blood and trembling nobility, could save them.
"Here!"
At her shout, the beast turned, lips peeling back from the enormous fangs in the face that was almost human.
Sheba stood at the gateway to the tomb holding the blade Rosa had planned to use for her sacrifice. As she brought the blade to her throat, she met Cobb's agonized gaze. She smiled as she told him, “I love you, Frank. Don't ever doubt that."
Realizing in a splinter of a second what she meant to do, Frank Cobb ran. He poured all his energy, all his strength—both natural and enhanced by Stacy's serum—into that frantic dash across the chamber. His churning feet kicked up ancient soil. His desperate gasps for extra deep breaths drew in the air of another civilization just beginning to mingle with their own. From out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the creature as it streaked toward Sheba, but Frank was centered on one thing only, on the slender hand that began a martyred stroke.
He hit her like a linebacker. He heard the breath punched from her lungs in a grunt of surprise and impact. He caught the blade with one hand, his other arm encircling her waist to pull her away from the entrance in a violent roll just as the demon pitched at her in a frenzied rush that led it right through the opened hole and into the tomb. Cobb reached with a savagely sliced hand, grasping the medallion, turning it and wrenching it free. As he fell back on top of a winded and wide-eyed Sheba, the stone rumbled closed, sealing the beast in.
When he had his breath back, Frank levered up to adore her with his gaze.
"That was a stupid, stupid, stupid, brave and incredibly stupid thing to do,” he admonished gently. “And I love you for it."
"You—?"
He halted the rest of her astonished question with an exquisitely eloquent kiss that answered all doubt in the matter of a few delicious seconds.
Heaven. It was heaven, the taste of his mouth, the taste of victory and accomplishment. And peace, at last. She could lay the past to rest and go on.
Suddenly, she pushed Frank away.
"Your hand!” She gripped his hand, dismayed by the pool of blood forming in his palm from the cuts across his fingers.
"I'll survive,” he chided on the receiving end of her worries. “More scars, more stories to tell, Doc Sheba. Don't cry. I'm fine."
"I know. That's not why I'm crying. It's just...” Her words trailed off as she tore a strip from her shirt to wrap crudely about his hand.
He didn't question as he enjoyed her care. He knew. It was everything. Every overwhelming piece of a fantastic puzzle finally forming a picture for her to see. And now that she'd seen it for what it was, she could put it aside without looking at it again with the same horror and painful revelation.
"Where's your friend?” Samuels’ question pulled them from their tender study of one another.
Cobb glanced about, but Alexander was gone. “He's no friend, believe me, and I won't mind leaving him behind. Let's get the hell out of here."
They exited the temple to find the jungle and the ancient stones bathed in the pure silvering of dawn. A silent gathering stood at a distance, watching, waiting to see who or what would emerge. In that group was Ruperto Lemos and his nephew, Josef. Josef smiled and nodded as Cobb displayed the medallion in his bandaged hand.
"Seal it,” Josef instructed his people. “Hide it so it might be another century before the greed of man leads him this way again to look for what he should never find."
Sheba took the medallion from Frank and carried it to the two Indians who were family by blood and tradition. She handed the sacred key to Josef and pressed her palm over it.
"This should be yours. Guard it with care
and lead the people wisely."
"You won't stay?"
She shook her head and glanced over at Frank with all the meaning in the world. “No. I've put all my demons to rest. There's nothing left for me to do here, and my whole life is waiting. But I'll be back. This is my home."
"There's more to do, cousin. There's always more to do. Remember that another time and come back to see us.” He raised a hand to Frank. “Take care, bro. And take care of her."
"I plan to."
Just then the jungle stirred with the downdraft from a sleek, unmarked helicopter flying low over the trees.
Harper's cavalry.
"That your ride, brother?"
Sheba waited for his answer, relieved when he shook his head.
"Not mine. I'm flying commercial from now on."
* * * *
The security team sent by Harper wasn't pleased with Cobb's report that the botanist, Paulo Lemos and the vampire, Quinton Alexander had both been destroyed and burned by the superstitious Indians. With nothing to take back with them except excuses and the unacceptable sting of failure, they had no reason not to honor Cobb's decision to stay behind. He wouldn't be welcome where they were going, where Forrester waited anxiously with his future in the balance for career-saving news that was not forthcoming.
Frank watched the helo lift off, with his arm firmly wrapped about his future. He didn't envy the crew the job of telling Forrester to start sending out resumes. He didn't envy anyone at all because he finally had everything a man could want. He turned to take Sheba fully into his embrace.
"Where to, Doc? I'm at your service."
Her smile was naughty. “I sincerely hope so.” Then she looked pensive. “I heard of a tribe in New Guinea that was plagued by a supposed ghost walker..."
Frank touched his fingertips to those lush, unbearably kissable lips. “Haven't you had enough excitement for one lifetime?"
"What did you expect? A house, a yard, a mortgage and two point six kids?"
"The kids might be nice, but the rest is negotiable.” His hands were busy roaming the sweet curve of her back and backside until she slapped at his bandage to make him wince.
"About New Guinea?"
"No vacation first?"
"We can honeymoon in the bush."
He grinned hellishly. “I plan to. But a little R & R would be nice."
"Come on, tough guy. I thought you liked it hot."
He squeezed her up tight against his chest. “The hotter, the better. Now, you'd better go talk to your uncle. He's got a load of guilt to dump. And be nice.” He slapped her delightfully taut little fanny. “He's family."
Her gaze grew somber and serious as she studied him. “I love you, Frank."
"Scars and all?"
"Especially the scars."
He leaned forward to buss a kiss upon her brow. “Good. Now, go take care of family business. I'll be waiting."
She kissed him back, hard and quick. “You'd better be."
* * * *
The underground corridors were endless black ribbons leading him nowhere except back to the central chamber of the inner tomb. There, Quinton Alexander sat down to rest. He was no longer distracted by the heaps of gold and ancient treasures that had delighted him at first when he'd dodged into the cavern to evade Cobb and possible consequences. How ironic that he would end up with the fortune Rosa Kelly coveted. He chuckled to himself.
He hadn't been alarmed when he discovered the stone had rolled across the opening, sealing him inside. He'd hoped there would be another way out other than the narrow slot through which the ignorant natives had fed their tribute. There wasn't. But that didn't really matter. He could become smoke and mist and easily escape through even the tiniest chink in the wall. He would get help from other greedy and unscrupulous men such as himself and retrieve the treasure later. He didn't know what had happened above in the battle between the demon and his enemies. Part of him hoped the beast had slain them all, but another part would miss the chance to exact a more personal revenge. Whichever it was, he couldn't linger. He didn't know where the creature had gone, and he wasn't interested in a confrontation in his strange state.
His mind felt foggy, his body strangely weak. What the hell had Cobb done to him? Once he got out, if Cobb was still alive, he would demand to know, just before he tore the bastard's throat out once and for all. He would toy with Cobb's woman for a while until she began to bore him and finish her for dessert. Then he would claim the treasure and, as a wealthy man, maybe he'd go back to the States. He had no enemies there now. Yes, the States. He'd had enough of the heat and the bugs and the inconvenience of jungle living.
That decided, he stood, summoning a change of form. And waited. Nothing. Again, with more concentration, he willed himself to thin and disperse in a fog so he could seep through the chinks in these cold, ancient walls to freedom.
Perplexed to find he was still whole, Alexander put a hand to his chest to discover an alarming alteration. He felt his own heartbeat beneath his palm.
"No. It can't be."
He drew a fearful breath that shook with the numbing truth just beginning to reveal itself to him.
Something bright flashed across his eyes. He lifted his face heavenward and received his stunning answer.
The sun shown down through the small opening above.
It was daylight.
And he was human.
And he was trapped inside the tomb.
"Cobb!"
His scream reverberated through the cavern. As it died down, he heard, to his horror, a soft snuffling growl from behind him in the darkness. His breath shivered to a stop. He was alone and helpless and now mortal.
And he was trapped inside a tomb with the embodiment of all his sins.
"Cobb!"
* * * *
His wail went unheard by the couple lifting off out of Lima.
"You can open your eyes now, Mr. Cobb. We're off the ground."
One cautious eye opened, then the other. “You needn't sound so smug, Mrs. Cobb. You've managed to keep me up in the air since I met you."
Happily, Sheba snuggled against her new husband's shoulder. Her uncle had pulled a handful of strings to arrange their marriage at the Lodge where he could give her away. He'd spared no expense with flowers and a white, silky sarong for her and a promise that he'd be expecting them to visit when they got back from ... Where was it? New Guinea?
Sheba watched the jungle disappear below her, swallowed up by the clouds the way the torments of her past were devoured by the truth. Securely wrapped up in Frank's possessive arms, she leaned her head against his strong shoulder and finally let herself sleep.
And her dreams were wonderful.
Don't Miss the Remainder of
Nancy Gideon's “Midnight” Series:
Midnight Enchantment
Midnight Gamble
Midnight Redeemer
Midnight Masquerade
Midnight Crusader
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Visit www.imajinnbooks.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.