The Bloodgate Guardian (6 page)

Sheepishly, she tried to shrug away her unease, but she couldn’t. Her gut instinct told her something had gone terribly wrong. “I didn’t feel like we had the entire picture yet. The language of Zuyua is famous for being twisted with double meanings and tricks. I wanted to know the codex inside and out, along with all the inscriptions on the walls of the temple before attempting anything as drastic as opening the portal ourselves.”

“Where could the portal lead to?” Madelyn wrung her hands. “If he ended up in Tulan Zuyua as he hoped, great. But how will he get back? Where else could he have gone?”

Staring down at the glyphs on the rounds, Jaid felt an icy trickle of dread down her spine. “He could have ended up anywhere. In fact, I suspect any
time
might be an option, too. He might be in any of the major Maya cities, perhaps in the past when they were at their height or before the collapse. Who knows? He could have even…” She swallowed hard and raised her gaze to Sam’s. She hadn’t told him about the recording, let alone the corpse-like creature she and Geoffrey had seen. Was that thing something dead that had crawled out of the portal by accident? Some sort of guardian? Or something more sinister? Her father’s warning echoed in her head.
Don’t trust anybody.
“He could have gone to Xibalba.”

Sam’s hands trembled so badly he dropped his hat. “The caves and portals lead through the Underworld.”

Jaid nodded jerkily. “The Maya knew how to use the portal to bypass the Place of Fright. But what if he didn’t? What if he’s in the Maya hell even as we speak?” Staring at the glyphs through a sheen of tears, she fought not to break down again. “I translated the glyphs, yes, but I never actually thought about them, if that makes sense. I took each page apart piece by piece, but I never read the book as a whole, not like Dad would have been doing as I translated.”

Her stomach felt like a cold pit of lead. “Wherever he is, I have no idea how to bring him out again.”

“Do you need anything else?” Sam asked.

Jaid tucked her father’s carefully detailed leather journal into her carryall and shook her head. “Just some time. I don’t expect that he left any clues in his journal, but I’ll scan it quickly tonight and then start going through his notes. He would have been careful in his documentation, even if he was suspicious or paranoid. We’ll figure out what he was trying to do and how, I’m sure.”

Drawn and pale, Madelyn gripped her shoulders and forced a smile. “If you need anything, please let me know. I’ll be happy to help you track down any of Charlie’s documentation. I know his filing and shorthand system he used for notes.”

Nodding, Jaid bit back a bitter comment. She might not know about her father’s relationship or exactly what he’d attempted, but she knew his techniques better than anyone. She didn’t need help translating his cryptic comments or notes. She could read his unique shorthand as easily as a Maya glyph.

Madelyn left while Sam gave her directions to her private cabana. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you?”

“No thanks.” Jaid forced a small smile so he wouldn’t be insulted. “Some alone time to think everything through will be best for me right now.”

Sam jammed his hat on his head, lingering as though he hated to leave her alone for even a moment. “I do have an early appointment tomorrow morning with the Antigua officials.”

Was he afraid she’d bail and run back home? Not while her father needed her so badly.

Well, her private library and research materials sounded heavenly right now, not to mention her own bed. At least the compound’s main building was air-conditioned, so she barely had to pretend to forget she was in Guatemala.

“Go,” she urged. “I’ll be wrapped up in Dad’s notes for most of the day tomorrow.”

He reached toward her, his eyes warm, his forehead creased with his concern, but at the last moment he dropped his hand. “You won’t try to explore the ruins without me?”

This time, she was thankful for the vicious cramp in her knee that nearly made her fall back into the chair behind her. The pain distracted her from the uncomfortable tension that hovered between them. Why couldn’t he forget her mistake? It’d almost been a year since she’d embarrassed herself by drinking a little too much wine and planting a sloppy kiss on his mouth instead of a more dutiful peck on his cheek. He’d made it crystal clear that he saw her as a daughter and nothing more, but the deep relationship they’d once shared felt brittle and stretched thin. He rarely even hugged her now, and she missed his dependable comfort.

Maybe that’s what she’d gone seeking in Geoffrey. They’d always been more friendly than passionate.

When you get back to the States, call Dr. Phil. Otherwise, quit psychoanalyzing yourself,
she ordered sternly. Forcing lightness to her tone, she said, “I don’t plan to. Seriously, Sam, just trying to figure out what Dad was up to will take at least a full day. Do whatever you need to do to ensure our goodwill and I’ll face the ruin itself later.”

“Ask anyone if you need something.” Sam headed for the door. “Dr. Reyes is on site, as well as Madelyn, and they have full authority to get you access to anything you need.”

Yes, but who was Dad trying to warn me about? Them, or you, Sam?

Efraín silently watched her shuffling through her father’s papers until her bag bulged at the seams. With an awkward smile, she walked with him down the hallway and outside.

The night air was rich and verdant but not heavy with the humidity that she’d dreaded. It wasn’t any warmer than a pleasant spring night in Texas, yet Jaid felt indescribably different. The night was loud with the buzz of insects, but here it sounded like music instead of the edge of madness. Maybe it was the wide open sky that kept her panic at bay. The sight of stars instead of thick, soaring vegetation promised freedom instead of endless miles of impenetrable jungle.

Cocking his head slightly, Efraín paused to enjoy the view of Lake Atitlan shimmering beneath the night sky. “Have you heard the legends of this particular site yet?”

“No, but I’d love to.”

“Many generations ago when the Maya were still powerful and as numerous as the stars, twin brothers lived here as king and priest to the Tz’utijils on Lake Atitlan. Their city was powerful and all tribes respected them. Their magic was fearful indeed, their king wise, their temples tall like the volcanoes, until all people believed their city truly was the navel of the world.”

Efraín was a natural storyteller; his smooth voice was rich with inflection and emotion until she could almost see the once great city.

“The priest was said to speak often to the gods and could transform into a jaguar.”

Every muscle in her body tightened, but she tried not to betray her alertness. Was he trying to threaten her? Or confirm the thing she’d seen on the digital recording?

“Despite their power, though, these brothers were cursed. There are as many rumors as stars in the sky, but all agree that they used magic in a way that was forbidden. As a result, their grand city was wiped from the face of the earth by the gods’ fury. The people whisper that if this terrifying magic is ever discovered once more that the entire world will be destroyed.”

He turned his head toward her and she sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity in his dark eyes as he whispered, “I saw a jaguar on the grounds last night.”

She swallowed hard but didn’t look away. She tried to imagine him shirtless, his face shadowed, and a jaguar crawling out of his body, but she couldn’t. He was shorter than the man she’d seen in the digital recording and not nearly as muscular. Dr. Reyes was a scholar, not a Maya warrior.

Her thoughts raced so fast her face and eyes felt too hot, her skin tight across her cheekbones. Stories and fables collided with the recording of her father’s ritual. If she hadn’t seen the Maya warrior transform into a jaguar with her own eyes, she’d never believe such a thing possible. As crazy as it sounded, she was pretty sure she’d seen Efraín’s cursed priest.

How much did Reyes know? She didn’t dare ask him outright. He’d either have her committed for thinking that a legend had come back to life after a thousand years, or worse, he might actually believe her. If he thought he could steal that magic for himself, he’d silence her before she could find her father. For all she knew, Efraín could have had a hand in his disappearance.

“Nice fairytale, Dr. Reyes, but I grew up on stories of the Lords of Xibalba. If you really want to scare me, threaten me with a treatise claiming that Atlantis is the original Tulan Zuyua.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Do be careful, Dr. Merritt. We can’t afford to lose you, too.”

He inclined his head politely and took the left-hand path in the opposite direction. Shaking her head, Jaid scrubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. She felt the lump of her BlackBerry phone and groaned. She still hadn’t texted Callie. If Jaid knew her best friend, she’d have the Marines looking for her within the hour if she didn’t check in.

She took out the phone and quickly sent a brief message.

Guat strange but ok. Dad still gone. Met his gf.

She smiled. That last bit would have Callie screaming with glee and pacing frantically until she got all the juicy details.

Jaid slipped the phone back into her pocket and took the right-hand path toward her cabana. The carryall was heavy with her laptop, books, and her father’s notes. Her eyes were gritty, and her nerves jangled and shrilled, painfully on edge.

She’d get a few hours of sleep and then compile both sets of notes into something more manageable. Right now, nothing sounded better than a long hot bath and—

Her scalp tingled and burned down the nape of her neck as though she’d fallen into a fire ant nest. Slowing her pace, she glanced about warily. The white crushed-stone path gleamed, surrounded by well-lit gardens and perfect lawns that would do a golf course proud. No one approached, and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed no one had followed her from the compound.

Yet the feeling of unease worsened, like boulders being stacked on her chest until it was difficult to breathe. Goose bumps raced down her arms. Shivering, she quickened her step to the hut, wincing at the strain in her knee.

A large dark shadow moved beneath the palm trees lining the ten-foot tall fence. Low to the ground, the shape inched closer, slinking just outside the glowing nimbus lighting the path.

Jaid stumbled to a halt and her heartbeat ramped into high gear. She knew the shadow was a combination of jetlag and long hours of strain and worry, but her body insisted on flight. Muscles aching with the need to run, she was afraid to look away for fear it would either disappear or attack. How far to her cabana? If she could get inside and call for help…against what? A shadow?

Clutching the leather strap of her bag so tightly her hand cramped, she lifted her chin and strode confidently down the path. She kept her gaze straight ahead, but watched out of the corner of her eye. Something was definitely there. Her pulse skittered with panic, but she forced her legs to keep a calm, deliberate pace.

I saw a jaguar on the grounds last night.

Only an animal, or a cursed priest who could shapeshift into a jaguar? Had it killed her father? Or had he managed to make it to the lake, only to drown in the bottomless waters?

Involuntarily, her gaze strayed back to stare fully at the shadow.

Golden eyes caught the light, gleaming eerily in the murk.

Crouched to spring, the jaguar was massive, much larger than any puma she’d ever seen in a zoo. A low, rumbling growl made her heart stutter and then leap into a frantic loud beat that thundered in her ears. The sounds in the recording had utterly failed to capture the very real threat rattling in the beast’s throat.

Instinct screamed at her to run.

She knew she’d never make it, but she tore her gaze away from the beast and ran for her hut. Skin tight and braced for rending claws, she didn’t register that a man stood in front of her until she ran into him.

“Thank God!” Raggedly, she hauled in air and glanced behind her. The jaguar had indeed followed, but now it crouched again, ears tight to its head, vicious teeth bared in a snarl. “Call for security!”

Ignoring the angry jaguar, the man grabbed the strap of her bag and yanked so hard she stumbled. Her shoulder felt jerked out of its socket. She hugged the bag tighter to her and jerked her attention to his face.

A large black circle had been tattooed on his forehead, marked as the rising sun. His ears and nose were heavily pierced with bits of bone and jade.

Geoffrey’s murderer.

With a hoarse yell, she swung her fist at his head, letting her body turn with the punch to protect the bag clutched against her chest. How had he followed her from Texas? The man wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

He raised the vicious black knife that had killed her boyfriend. Her blood froze in her veins, numbing her fingers. A strangled cry choked in her throat.

The jaguar screamed, deathly shrill like jagged glass slicing her eardrums. The murderer let go of her and laughed. Eyes wild, he shouted something she couldn’t understand, and then grabbed her throat, trying to use her as a shield. Or maybe a bargaining chip? Why would a jaguar care, especially if it had succeeded in slaughtering her father?

In a single bound, the big cat closed a dozen paces to land silently just inches away. She could smell its sharp, feral scent and feel the moist heat of its breath on her bare arms. The black rosettes on its fur were visible even in the night, its golden eyes huge and glowing like twin suns, fangs glistening like white knives.

She slammed her elbow up and back into the man’s ribs as hard as she could, tore free of his punishing grip, and staggered toward her hut. Which would she feel first, the rending claws or the knife?

Stumbling inside, Jaid locked the door and then crouched before the window to watch the battle play out.

A jaguar against a man without a high-powered rifle shouldn’t have been much of a contest. Yet the man was fearless and maintained a steady barrage of harsh words. Despite the language barrier, there was no mistaking the furious twist to his mouth or the venom in his voice. The jaguar lunged for his throat and tried to eviscerate him with those gleaming claws, but the man was just as deadly with his knife.

Jaid swallowed the bile down and forced herself to watch. Automatically, she began cataloguing details: the foot-long blade, the sound of it ringing on the jaguar’s teeth when the big cat tried to yank it from the man’s hand, the gleam of light along its length.

That knife was
stone
, not metal. From its color and refraction, it must have been obsidian.

No jaguar in captivity or a Hollywood construct had ever reached the size and majesty of this beast. The jaguar reared up on its hind legs and it was just as tall as the man. It swiped at the man’s head with a plate-sized paw, and he took the opening to slice the knife across the jaguar’s belly.

With a choking growl, the big cat fell, tried to get up, and collapsed.

The man jerked around, searching for her. Jaid ducked down, praying someone would come and chase him off. He’d downed a massive jaguar. What hope did she have against him? Surely with all the growls and yells, someone must have heard. The jaguar’s screams had rattled the windows. Why hadn’t Sam’s tight security come to investigate?

Gripping that vicious, bloody knife in his hand, the man strode toward the hut.

Frantic, she glanced about the small cottage, looking for a weapon or a place to hide. In the darkness, she made out vague furniture shapes. A small kitchen. Maybe she could find a knife?

Shallow and rapid, her breath sobbed out, her mind racing in helpless circles. She stifled a desperate cry. What hope did she have against a murderer obviously skilled with a blade, when she nicked her finger trying to cut a steak? Peeking out the window, her heart plummeted. He was less than ten feet away. She shoved the carryall under the nearest shadowed furniture, probably a loveseat.