Aztec Gold (7 page)

“Cordero?”

Realizing that Rafe was unaware of the reason for their presence at this village, she explained. “I was asked to authenticate a journal and map found in a Missouri cornfield. The items had supposedly belonged to a conquistador by the name of Juan Domingo Cordero and it turned out the documents were authentic.”

“And that’s what ripped you out of your safe little shell and brought you here?” he said, and there was no denying the anger and disappointment in his voice.

Cynthia stepped closer to him once more, reached up and tunneled her fingers through his thick hair before moving her hand downward to cradle his jaw. “
You
brought me here, Rafe. I told myself it was because I had to know what happened to you, but in my heart…I hoped you were still alive. That we could be together again.”

He groaned as if in pain and whispered, “I’ve missed you so. I was a fool to leave.”

She slipped her thumb across his lips and pushed up on the balls of her feet until the warmth of his breath played against her mouth. “And I was a fool to force you to go.”

With a shaky breath, he covered her mouth with his, seeking solace from the union of their lips. His actions greedy as he slipped his hands to her sides to press her upward and opened his mouth over hers time and time again, tasting her. Urging her to open her mouth to his, which she did, accepting the tentative thrust of his tongue and meeting it with hers.

She flattened her body against his, shocked by the hardness of new muscle and the jut of his erection. His skin was hot beneath her hands. Irregular where her fingers encountered the scars of his wounds, but smooth elsewhere and slightly damp with sweat.

The sweat roused the unique smell of him. She dragged in a breath and memorized it, wanting to experience every nuance of this moment. Of coming together with him again, ignoring any warning bells ringing in her head about the fact that anything having to do with Rafe could not be the way it had been before.

The time apart had changed both of them. It would take time for them to rediscover each other. There was even the possibility that this moment was all they would ever have again after that journey.

But she wouldn’t waste a second of this much-wished-for reunion with doubt.

Bringing her hands back around to his chest, she laid them against his thick pectoral muscles and rubbed the hard nubs of his nipples.

He moaned into her mouth at her caress and immediately responded, eagerly easing his hands beneath the hem of her light tank top, roughly pulling it upward to expose her upper body. As he tugged on the shirt impatiently, the fabric ripped beneath his hands, but he seemed too anxious to worry about the damage and all she wanted was to feel his skin along hers.

She continued her caress, plucking at his nipples. Wanting him to do the same to hers, which had tightened into hard peaks from the passion of their kisses and her anticipation of making love with him.

With a shaky hand, he ran the pads of his fingers over the swells of her breasts exposed by the demi-cups of her bra before he released the clasp. Her breasts spilled free and he immediately cupped them in his big hands. Teased his fingers along the hard peaks before gently rotating them between his thumb and forefinger.

Heat erupted between her legs as well as intense dampness as she became slick with want of his possession. It had been six long months. Lonely months imagining a moment much like this and yet she didn’t want to rush it for the world.

As he caressed her, she leaned forward and placed a kiss in the gap directly above his heart. With her tongue, she tasted him, salty and all male, before shifting her mouth to one of his nipples and sucking on it. The pull of her mouth soft at first, but then growing more daring as she gave the tip a love bite that dragged a ragged shudder from him and had him cupping her head close.

“
Dios
, Cyn. There hasn’t been a night I haven’t dreamed of being with you again.”

“You’re not dreaming this time, Rafe. I’m here and I’ve been wishing for this with all my heart.”

Her words released whatever restraint he might have possessed until then and dashed any plans she might have had for a slow taking. With determined hands he stripped away all her remaining clothes, pausing only to place a kiss here and there on the flesh he revealed.

She had barely managed to rip off his pants before he eased her onto the edge of the cot and gently spread her legs.

He stilled then, glancing down at her as she lay before him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he tracked a hand down the length of her body, awakening heat as he slipped his thumb over her center and caressed the swollen nub.

“Rafe,” she cried out at the touch and lifted her hips, inviting him to join with her.

He didn’t hesitate a second longer, plunging into her moist depths with a powerful surge of his hips.

His rough entry pulled a gasp from her, stunned as she was by the force of it and the need that vibrated from his body and into hers. Shocked as she was by the sense of something else vibrating around them, energized and building in force as he moved within her.

She met his golden gaze and saw the growing glow of energy gathering around him. The
nahual
powers with which he had been gifted were alive and responding to the energy of their passion.

“Rafe?”

“I don’t want that to be a part of us. Changing what we feel for each another,” he said, his arms braced on either side of her as he clearly struggled for control.

She ran her hand along the line of his jaw and rose up, brushed her lips across his. Softly she whispered, “Then banish it from our bed.”

His uneven exhalation came against her lips and she lay back down, braced her hands on his shoulders as he closed his eyes. With each heartbeat that passed, the weird sense of energy slowly ebbed and dissipated from around him until all she could feel was Rafe. Solid. Substantial and very much alive.

With the forces of the
nahual
mastered, he met her gaze. With restrained power he shifted in and out of her, conquering her body until they were both on the edge. Shaking with the sensations created by his forceful possession and their long separation. By the fear of what he was now and how that might forever change what they had. If after all was said and done the only thing they had left was physical attraction.

She held on to her release, taming it so that she could continue to experience the wonder of him. The strength in his arms and the force in his hips. The size of him, so large and imposing as he surrounded her. Filled her. She had always found it erotic that a man of such power and stature could be so gentle with her.

She ran her hands along the muscled length of his arms as he continued to hold himself above her, but then she laid her hands on his shoulders and urged him down, wanting the weight of him against her. The subtle brush of his chest against the hard points of her breasts.

Raising her knees, she cradled his pumping hips with her thighs, deepening his penetration.

Sucking in a rough breath as her climax rose ever higher, threatening to overwhelm her, she kissed the side of his face. Worked her way up to the sharp slash of his cheekbone before following it to his nose and back down to his lips.

She kissed him over and over. Slipped the tip of her tongue in to touch his.

Hs breath exploded against her mouth and he stilled his motions, his big body shuddering against hers.

“Cyn. I don’t know how I survived without you all these months.”

“Sssh,” she urged, and with the gentle press of her one hand high up against his collarbone, she invited him to reverse their positions until he was on his back and she was riding him.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and then freed one hand to trace the scars there before bending to kiss them. After, she slowly dragged that hand along the deep ridges to his side, where she likewise ran her fingers along the evidence of his wounds. Her heart clenched as she imagined the pain he must have felt before she moved to a spot directly above his heart.

Its beat drummed powerfully beneath her palm, reminding her not to waste a moment with regret on what had been.

She shifted her hand to the side of his chest, where she caressed his hard brown nipple. Inside her his erection jumped in reaction, creating the need to move, which she stifled, still enjoying the sensation of him way too much.

He copied her actions, raising his hands up to tantalize the tips of her breasts, and she loitered for a moment, lost in the feelings he created. Relishing each tug and pull that sent a corresponding sensation to between her legs, where he filled her. The weight and heat of him begging for her to do more.

With a sigh she relented to that need and rose up until he almost slipped out of her, but then she sank down forcefully, moaning as the action stretched her and her stroke created friction against the slickness within.

He sat up and kissed her hard nipple. Sucked it deep into his mouth, dragging another strong contraction from inside her.

“
Amor
, that feels so good. Do it again,” she said as he shifted to her other breast and repeated the action. Bit it playfully before covering her nipple with his lips and sucking more intensely.

She closed her eyes as her body shook from the force of her passion and concentrated on caressing him as he nestled within her, her muscles tightening and releasing around him. Each deep contraction heightened her passion until she had to move against him once more, drawing the length of him in and out of her. Rousing ardor with each determined stroke.

He continued pleasuring her breasts with his mouth, but transferred his hands to her hips, helping her set a rhythm as she rode him. Her movements growing more hurried and more demanding as she neared the end of her restraint.

When he bit the tip of her breast, the nip of his teeth sharp yet pleasurable, she relinquished that hard fought control. With an exultant cry of his name, her climax exploded through her body, leaving her shaking in his arms. His erection still hard and buried deep within her.

Rafe rose up and kissed her, then wiped away the tears on her face.

She hadn’t realized it, but she was crying. Overwhelmed by the reality that he was there beside her. Alive and quite obviously well, but different.

“
Amor
, sssh. No regrets tonight,” he pleaded as he helped her lie down facing him, her one leg draped over his thigh as he remained nestled within her.

No regrets tonight, she thought. The regrets would come tomorrow, because she was certain they would argue about her staying with him.

She forced those thoughts from her mind, not wanting hurt and anger to impinge on what was happening. On the wonder that she always experienced in his arms and that he shared with her.

Rafe kissed her once again, the kiss one of invitation. Tender. Slow. Requesting entry into her mouth as his tongue danced with hers and he shifted his hips to deepen his penetration.

Only he didn’t move, seemingly content to rest within her warmth as much as she liked the fullness of him there, satisfying her. Keeping her joined to him in the most intimate of ways while he cherished her mouth with his. Used his hands to treasure her breasts, his actions tarried as he drew her ever upward into passion yet again.

Her release this time was deliciously delayed as pleasure washed over her in wave after wave until only little ripples lingered throughout her body.

It was then that he finally loosened his command and with a few short determined thrusts, groaned as he climaxed, but he still didn’t withdraw from her.

Rafe drew her close and twined his legs with hers, content to linger both within her and next to her. Their bodies nearly one as every possible inch of skin remained in contact while they lay there.

His hand stroked her back, a lazy up and down meant to soothe, but disquiet was rising up in her faster than she wished.

Covering one of the scars on his shoulder with her hand, she said, “I won’t leave in the morning, even though that’s what you want.”

He sighed the way a parent might when faced with an obstinate child and slipped his hand beneath her chin. Tipping her face up with gentle pressure, he said, “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“Discussion usually means that two people will actually exchange ideas, but I don’t get the sense that’s what you plan.”

He chuckled and laid a finger against her lips. “Can you do one thing for me?”

“Only one?” she teased, arching a brow.

“Cyn-ful,
chica
. I can think of at least a dozen things we will do later tonight—”

“But you want to do something else right now and it has nothing to do with me and you and this awful army cot.”

“Correct,” he said with a nod.

“So what do you need me to do?” she asked, brushing back an errant lock that had fallen forward.

“I need you to help me find a way to kill Eztli Etalpalli.”

Rafe watched as Cynthia leaned over the scrap of parchment that the village’s
calpulli
had given to him months earlier. He had placed it on a narrow table-height ledge built into the wall of the steam bath and moved the lantern over to provide her light. The glow from the lantern bathed the ancient parchment, which was written in an archaic form of Nahuatl. When combined with the poor quality of the inks and the decay thanks to the document’s age and exposure to the heat and humidity in the jungle, the inscriptions on the parchment were nearly illegible. He had been able to make out a few words here and there, but not enough to make sense of it.

In order to help Rafe, the
calpulli
had relayed the stories of Eztli Etalpalli and how she had come to inhabit this particular temple, but that, too, had not helped him devise a way to defeat the demon.

He hoped that now that Cynthia was here with him, she could add pertinent details to what he already knew.

As she stood in front of the table, considering the document, Rafe stepped close to her and laid a hand on the rough cotton tunic she had removed from him just a short time earlier. It hung on her shorter frame down to the tops of her thighs and she’d had to roll the sleeves back several times so that they wouldn’t droop over her hands.

Her choice of garment had been necessitated by the fact that he had torn her shirt beyond wearing in his haste to free her of it. Not that he minded her selection. Cyn had beautifully shaped legs that were long for her petite body. He liked the sight of their toned strength beneath the hem of the tunic.

Tempering the rise of his renewed need, he said, “Medicine Eagle, the
calpulli
, tells me that Eztli Etalpalli had been sent here by her mother to guard the many treasures Izpapalotl had been given by her worshippers.”

Cyn leaned forward and after peering carefully at the document, nodded and circled a garbled section of characters on the parchment with her finger. “There’s something here that would seem to confirm that. Izpapalotl had charged her daughter with care of the treasures, but it also says that Eztli Etalpalli grew tired of getting her mother’s castoffs. She felt she was as powerful as her mother and began demanding tribute of her own. Blood tribute.”

Rafe pressed against Cyn’s back and swept his arm around to note another section on the manuscript. “If I’m translating this correctly, Izpapalotl grew angry with her daughter’s greed—”

“And disowned her. It may be why we’ve not heard of Eztli Etalpalli before in any of the codices detailing the Aztec gods and goddesses. She may have been banished before the codices were written,” Cynthia offered.

“Without widespread knowledge of her and with the temple in such a remote location—”

“Her mother’s gift of the temple of gold turned to banishment far from civilization and any worshippers,” Cyn responded and laid her hand over his as it rested on the document.

Her skin was soft against his and as he bent his head to kiss the side of her face, he smelled her scent, a hint of orange blossoms beneath the muskier aroma from her travails through the jungle and their lovemaking.

“I’ve missed your smell,” he said, realizing for the first time how something as simple as her fragrance had always brought peace to his adventurous life. In the many months they had been separated, he had come to appreciate what he could not before—that Cyn imparted balance and contentment to his otherwise chaotic existence. Without her, his life had felt like a puzzle missing key pieces.

“Hmm,” she murmured and arched her head back to give him greater access to her neck. “I think you’ve missed more than that,” she teased, reaching behind with one hand and playfully skipping the pads of her fingers up and down his awakened erection.

He eased his hand over hers and urged it back around to the parchment, needing one more answer before they satisfied their mutual desire.

“How do we kill her? What is her weakness?”

He knew his debility—Cyn. He would die to make sure she would be safe. As he grasped her hips with his hands, splaying his fingers across the soft skin there, she circled one section on the manuscript with a shaky finger.

“Here. It says something about only darkness as black as her own can deliver the killing strike.”

He hadn’t been sure of the translation, but now Cyn had provided him with an answer, cryptic as it was. With that riddle to consider for the future, he no longer needed to wait on something that was far more pressing at the moment.

He eased her hips back toward his and she spread her legs, inviting his possession with the slow back and forth of her buttocks along his erection. Slipping between her thighs, he sought out the center of her, hesitating until she gave another wiggle of her hips to urge him on.

Bending, he breached her entrance, sinking into the warm slick depths of her vagina. He sucked in a breath to rein himself in as her ardent response welcomed him, wanting to experience the pleasure of their union for as long as he could. Wanting to be one with her in every possible way, he moved one hand downward to find the nub at her center and brought his other hand up to her breast.

As he caressed her, she moaned and shifted her hips against his, an unhurried shift and press that nestled him even deeper within her.

Her actions drove away all thought of anything besides her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight as he drove into her, spurred by her soft cries of pleasure and the movement of her hands against his buttocks and arms, urging him on.

Her cry of satisfaction came harshly only a short time later, echoing against the hollow walls of the steam bath. The ripple of her contractions milked him, caressing his erection and urging him ever closer to her core until he could no longer hold back.

His body jerked as he spilled his seed. The heat and wet of her wrapped around him as he plunged into her yet a few more times, enjoying the final moments of his climax and hers.

Her body sagged against his and his own knees weakened from the force of their release. With slow measured breaths that matched hers, he finally found the strength to ease from within her, grab her up in his arms and carry her back to the small army cot.

Lying her down on the slick surface of the sleeping bag, he joined her, his body pressed against her petite length. He wrapped his arms around her and entangled his legs with hers, needing that connection of skin to skin. Needing to feel the reassuring beat of her heart strong beside his. Of the warmth of her breath, filled with life and stability, spilling against his skin.

With a long calming breath, he inhaled her scent once again and clearly understood one painful thing at that moment.

Come the morning, Cyn and her team would have to leave.

***

The screams of the villagers dragged Cynthia from sated slumber. She and Rafe had made love more times than she could remember and her body was both sore and tired from the loving.

Despite that, she moved quickly to grab her pants, holster and Rafe’s shirt after the first few cries came from outside the steam bath. She was out the door of the structure in just under a minute, her pistol in hand and Rafe immediately behind her, bare except for the pants he had managed to slip on.

Beyond the walls of the steam bath, a potent and inexplicable presence buffeted her.

“What is that?” she asked, searching the night for an explanation.

Rafe pushed her behind him and back toward the entrance of the steam bath as he looked upward, exploring the night sky. “She is here.”

Eztli Etalpalli.

Cynthia shoved past Rafe to take a spot at his side and tracked his gaze, remembering the descriptions of Izpapalotl and wondering whether Eztli Etalpalli would be like her mother—claws like jaguar’s and knifelike wings.

A few seconds later, something large swooped through the dark sky at the far edge of the village, the loud beat of its wings, click-clacking like maracas at times, echoing through the dim night. The shape was way too large to be a bird, but moving so swiftly that she hadn’t been able to really get a glimpse of it. But she had noticed one thing: whatever it was had been flying over the area where her team was camped.

Rafe had realized the same thing. “She’s going for them.”

The staccato pop of gunfire suddenly joined with the cries of the villagers. A loud, inhuman screech rent the night air and was followed by a woman’s frantic cry.

“Dani,” they said in unison.

Cynthia could no longer just stand there. She raced down the winding path toward their encampment, Rafe at her side. With each step she kept on hoping that no harm had come to her friend. But as they approached the tents, Dani screamed again. Her friend’s entreaty sounded farther away, as did the grating howl that followed the forceful flap of wings stirring the air. Rattling sickeningly in the night sky.

The tent closest to where she had heard Dani had been flattened. The fabric was so badly shredded that it would be unusable. The other tents were in varying states of destruction and at first sight there was no sign of the rest of her team.

She called out their names and a shaggy blond head emerged from one pile as Booth finally crawled out from beneath the fabric of his collapsed tent. The side of his face bore a scrape much like road rash and a purpling spot higher up that would surely turn to a bruise by morning.

Rogers rushed from behind a pile of hay that had been resting against the hand-hewn beams of the corral. Bits of straw and chaff stuck to his clothes, but he seemed all right otherwise.

Finally, Hernandez emerged from the jungle underbrush, clutching one shoulder. Beneath his hand, his arm was red with blood. Along his ribs his shirt was torn and marked with yet more blood. He staggered toward them, clearly unsteady, and Rafe quickly rushed to his side. He wrapped his arm around Hernandez’s waist and helped him in the direction of the tents, settling him on the bale of hay behind which Rogers had hidden.

Tossing aside the rent fabric of her tent, Cynthia quickly located a first-aid kit in the rubble, grabbed a big wad of gauze from it and went to Hernandez. She applied the gauze to the gouges raked into his ribs and instructed Rafe to apply pressure on the makeshift bandage so she could deal with the deeper puncture wound high up on his shoulder, which was bleeding quite heavily.

Rafe did so and Hernandez winced as Cynthia used antiseptic on his shoulder wound. She wadded gauze against the injury and then tightly wrapped a bandage around it, hoping the pressure would be enough to stem the flow of blood.

“She got Dani,” Hernandez confirmed, his voice tinged with pain.

“Eztli Etalpalli?” Rafe asked as he stood beside her as she finished tending to the team leader, turning her attention to his lesser injuries.

Hernandez nodded weakly. “I think that’s what it was. It’s tough to say since it all happened so fast.”

Rafe met her worried gaze and then shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. The demon wouldn’t take anyone unless she’s without—”

“A meal?” Booth said and pointed toward the remains of one tent, where the disarray of the ruined fabric covered something man-sized.

Rafe rushed over and yanked the fabric away to reveal the bloody and partially eaten remains of a man. His shoulders sank with defeat and his body seemed to deflate into itself as he knelt beside the man and bowed his head.

Cynthia joined him, afraid that it would be Rafe’s younger brother, but the half-eaten man lying dead on the ground was unfamiliar to her. “Is he—”

“Jones, our Meso-American specialist. Which leaves her with only David. And now she took Dani. It makes no sense that she would take Dani unless….”

Unless Rafe’s brother was either dead or close to it, she thought.

She laid a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, trying to offer him comfort as he carefully covered the man’s corpse with the torn tent fabric, but he shrugged off her sympathy. Beneath her hand his body vibrated with anger.

“In the morning, once I’ve buried him, I’m going after her.”

He wrapped the man’s body in the tent to safeguard him until morning, rose, and with a quick look that communicated that he would brook no disagreement over his decision, he pointed to what remained of their camp. “You can pack up what you have left and return home as soon as it’s light. In the meantime, all of you grab your sleeping gear and come with me.”

As he had earlier that day, he strode away alone, his long sharp paces quickly eating up the distance between the steam bath and their camp, but Cynthia refused to chase after him. Much like she refused to accept the unilateral plans he had made.

She walked to Hernandez and checked his wounds before they moved. The deep lacerations on his ribs were ragged, but the pressure Rafe had applied earlier had stemmed the flow of blood. The deeper wound on his shoulder was still bleeding. It took a few butterfly bandages to close up the gash and finally control the blood loss. For good measure, she grabbed the tetanus shot from the vaccines in the kit and injected him.

As she finished the first aid, she examined his face and detected the pallor beneath the olive color of his skin. Her team leader was in no condition to go anywhere in the morning. “You’re going to have to take it easy for a few days.”

He shook his head in denial, but then his knees wobbled as he tried to stand and he plopped back down onto the bale of hay. She grasped his good shoulder to keep him upright and he said, “We can’t let Santiago go alone tomorrow. I got these cuts when the sharp bones on her wings whipped past me. It’s the rattle you hear when she’s flying—her exposed skeleton knocking together.”

“I agree that Rafe can’t go alone, Enrique,” she said. She turned to the other two men. “Someone needs to stay with Enrique, but Rafe and I need one of you to go with us in the morning. Which of you will it be?”

Booth and Rogers exchanged guilty looks before shaking their heads, shame in every line of their bodies. Booth spoke first. “It would be suicide to go, Cynthia. She’s too much for us to handle.”

“We need to get reinforcements. We can call for help,” Rogers added, looking away from her condemning gaze.