Mayan Blood (11 page)

“Sarian doesn’t have the power to bring minions into the middleworld.”

“He demands the guard-ian. We know where you hiiide.”

Arwan stepped to the edge of the cliff. “I hide from no one.” He leaped off the edge and landed in the sand with perfect form. The beast lashed out, and Arwan ran toward it, whipping his weapon in circles. The blade landed in its intended target and sliced open the monster’s chest, leaving a gaping wound.

It hissed and recoiled. Spittle flew from its mouth as it snapped at Arwan with a twist of its bony neck.

“Zanya, run!”

He charged the beast a second time and, with a leaping strike, planted the blade deep into its hide. The creature gargled and spewed out spouts of black slime. Just as it seemed to be dying, its gargles morphed into a sinister laugh. “It is hard to kill—what is al-ready dead.” It gripped the weapon with its clawed fingers and yanked it out. The minion ran its long tongue along the edge of the blade, slurping its own putrid blood.

Zanya's feet were rooted in the sand, frozen with fear.

“Zanya, I said run. Go back to the house!”

The beast took advantage of the moment of distraction and dug its talons into Arwan’s back. He shouted and arched his spine, then fell to the ground.

Zanya screamed and stumbled. Her breath hitched erratically, her head spinning. The undead creature was exactly like the ones in her dreams. Her nightmares. She gripped her chest and squirmed against the urge to lie down, batting at the fog creeping along the edges of her vision from yet another panic attack.

Lying on the sand, her mind floated between darkness and light until she could no longer tell what was real. She lifted her head to see the blurry figure of Arwan still battling the monster.

He picked himself up off the ground, his shirt soaked in crimson. As the demon crawled toward her, entrails dragged behind it, its lower half completely missing.

Against the will of her failing body, Zanya clawed at the ground and fought to get to her feet. The creature hurled itself on top of her and sank its teeth into her thigh. Searing heat spiked up her leg, and a metallic taste coated her tongue. She swung drunken punches in a feeble attempt to fight back.

Arwan mounted the creature and plunged his weapon through the back of its skull. The blade broke through its eye socket, nearly slicing into her leg. Black oozed dripped from its wound. The minion withdrew its teeth and thrashed its head side to side.

She tried to stand, but her leg was too badly mangled. A trail of blood stained the sand scarlet. Then, the rush of sick heat. It washed over her. Through her. Coiled itself around every muscle. It pulsed through every vein until her entire body was flooded with the sickness.

Zanya collapsed and heaved. Her leg tightened and seized.

Arwan speared the beast a second time, leaving it skewered and pinned to the ground.

Even with fuzzy vision, she watched Arwan continue to battle the beast.

Strong hands rested on either of her cheeks and Renato’s fuzzy features came into her view. “You must fight to stay conscious.” He drew his sword and ran into battle, slicing through the demon’s neck with one swift downward strike, and sending its head rolling into the sea.

The monster’s body went limp. It lay still before the remains sank into the earth, leaving only a black, sticky stain on the ground.

Zanya shivered and held herself tighter. It was so cold. The sickness coursed through her, and she broke out in a sweat. Sounds, smells, everything was dull.

Arwan scooped her into his arms and ran down the beach. As her vision faded, she blinked through the fog at his beautiful face.

Tired. So tired.
She rested her head against his chest and listened to the lullaby of his heartbeat, then closed her eyes and drifted away.

***

Arwan

“Is she going to be all right?” Worry tore through Arwan’s tone, accentuated by underlying rage that he couldn’t cage. He paced beside Zanya, who lay unconscious on the healing bed.

Peter dabbed her wound with ointment. “I think so, but if you don’t let me heal you, you won’t be.”

“I’m fine.” Arwan rolled his shoulder, flinching from the dry blood that pulled at his skin. “I wasn’t bitten. It’s a scratch.”

Tara, who had been silent since Zanya was brought in, sat in the corner, nervously bouncing her foot. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. “When will we know for sure?”

Arwan tightened his fists as he paced. Her heartbeat was weak. He could hear that much. If she died, if Sarian took the only person he was destined to protect…A low growl vibrated in his chest. He closed his throat, cutting it off before anyone could hear.

Peter dropped more bloodstained gauze into the trash. “As soon as I see this wound close up I’ll feel better. Right now it’s refusing to heal.”

Tara’s bottom lip quaked. “What does that mean?” Tears streamed down her face.

“It just means I have to do a really good job cleaning it before I try to heal it again. There are all kinds of broken teeth and sand embedded in the bite wound. I think the minion’s saliva is like a corrosive. It’s eating away at her flesh.”

“Spend only as much energy as you can,” Renato said. “If you can’t get it to mend, we’ll have to figure something else out. Healing takes energy. We cannot have two ill for the price of one.”

Peter turned his back to Tara and stepped close to Renato, speaking in a low voice. Arwan’s hearing was fine tuned enough to listen from across the room, no matter how low Peter whispered. “If I can’t get it to mend, she’ll die. I have to keep going.”

Renato frowned. “Do you think it’s coming to that?”

“Not if I can get it clean before infection sets in.” He turned back to Zanya. “How the hell did this even happen?” Peter returned to his seat and used long-nosed tweezers to pick debris out of the gash.

“That’s a good question.” Arwan stood beside Peter, watching him work. “It said Sarian brought him to the middleworld. We all know that’s not possible.”

Not unless he had help.

Renato rubbed his hand over his five o’clock shadow. “You don’t think
he
had anything to do with this?”

“That’s exactly what I think. We all know Sarian doesn’t have clearance for something that big. Even as a general, he needs permission, and minions aren’t easy to replace. Especially one like that.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter said. “You think one of the underworld gods did him a favor?”

Arwan ignored the question. Though Renato was well aware of what this could mean, there was only so much the others should know.

Renato exhaled and dropped his gaze. “We need to find out whose bones those were. There is a local family who is missing a loved one.”

“Only one?” Peter asked.

Renato nodded. “Thank God for that.”

Arwan slumped against the wall. “Sarian’s becoming impatient.”

“Maybe that’ll work in our favor. Maybe he’ll expose himself more. Be more accessible—Damn it!” Peter shot up, thrashing his hand in the air. He stripped off his latex glove and threw it on the floor. The glove sizzled and disintegrated.

Tara gasped and jumped out of her chair. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know.” Peter held out his hand, burned and raw.

Arwan pressed his fingers over Zanya's wrist. “Her pulse is weakening.” He couldn’t hear it anymore. He rested his hand over the flickering vein. Even then, it was faint. “What’s happening to her?” The warmth in her skin was fading, as were her breaths.

Peter slipped on another glove and worked to clean the wound. “This minion saliva is doing a damn good job at eating straight through my gloves.” He removed his glove a second time and replaced it. “There’s something still in there. I tried to pick it out, but it nicked the bone. I think it’s burrowing in.”

Zanya moaned, audibly grinding her teeth.

“She’s waking up.” Renato walked toward the open door of the healing room. “I’ll get Marzena. We have to keep her unconscious.” He sprinted into the hall.

Arwan took ahold of Zanya's hand and knelt beside her. “Come on, Zanya. You can fight through this. You have to.”

Peter threw his tweezers on the floor, the tips twisted and mangled. Arwan squeezed her hand tighter.

Peter looked at Tara. “Get her out of here.”

“What?” Tara shrieked.

“You don’t want to be here. Get out.” Peter’s features tightened and he looked at Arwan. “Grab her leg.” Arwan did what he asked. “Hold her down tight. This is going to hurt.” Peter drew in a deep breath and dug his fingers into her muscle.

An ear-piercing scream tore out of Zanya's chest. Arwan pinned her flailing body the best he could without hurting her. Her back arched off the table while Peter dug deeper into the wound.

Tara screamed.

Renato returned with Marzena on his heels.

“Get Tara out of the room!” Peter shouted.

Tara sat in her chair and curled her fingers around the wood, glaring defiantly at Renato. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to drag me out.”

Zanya let out another high-pitched scream. Arwan ground his teeth. The agony of having to restrain her tore through him. But if he didn’t, she would die. That didn’t make it any easier.

Peter spat out a chain of curses and then threw something to the floor. Zanya's body collapsed onto the table. Arwan slowly backed away from her limp body. The color had drained completely from her cheeks. He pressed two fingers against her throat.

His heart dropped.

“Don’t get near the tooth,” Peter said. “Its nerves are still reacting.”

“Back away from the guardian.” Marzena rushed to her side.

“No.” He slid his arms under Zanya's body and picked her up. Her arms fell limp to the sides and her head hung back. “Please, Zanya.” He nestled his nose in her hair and closed his eyes. She couldn’t be gone. Not when they had just found her. Not when there was more to their story than this.

Chapter Eleven

Zanya

Zanya
blinked open her eyes to a dimly lit room. She recognized it from her last healing session, after Marzena rescued her from Sarian in her dreams. After she learned Sarian’s true identity.

It was the healing room.

She slowly sat up; the thin sheet draped over her slid off her shoulders.

Arwan lay asleep on the floor, his hands rested behind his head and his chest rising up and down with every slow, rhythmic breath.

Her lips parted as memories flooded back through the haze. He’d risked his life to save her. He came for her.

She slid the soft cotton sheet off her lap to uncover her leg, wrapped in a white bandage. She wiggled her toes, rotated her ankle, and bent her knee—just a little. Pleased with her mobility, Zanya planted her feet on the floor. A little weight didn’t cause any pain. It was only when she tried to stand that her leg failed to hold the full weight of her body.

The idea of waking Arwan to help her out of bed was ridiculous. She could do it. She’d just have to try harder. With another forward heave she made it to her feet, only for her leg to buckle again. The corner of the bed was all she had to cling onto on her way down.

Her yelp woke him, and he jumped to his feet. “What are you doing?” He grabbed her around the waist and lowered her back to the healing bed. “You shouldn’t be trying to stand. Not yet.”

She shivered and pulled the sheet around her shoulders. “My leg is numb. Like it’s asleep.”

“That’ll wear off in a couple of hours.”

She touched the thickly wrapped gauze. Images of the beast burst back into her mind. “I’ve never seen anything like that thing before.” She’d been attacked by similar creatures in her dreams, but they had never crossed that gray space into the real world.

This was bad. The line was blurred, and she had a feeling that thing wasn’t the last to claw its way out of her nightmares.

“You’re safe now.”

His silky voice pulled her out of the memory. She was safe, but only because of him. He’d fought that creature—and gotten hurt in battle. “How’s your shoulder?”

“After Peter healed your leg, he took care of the scratch.”

“That wasn’t a scratch. Your whole shirt was soaked in blood.”

“I’ve had worse.”

That may have been true, but it didn’t make her any less scared. “How did you know I needed help?”

He exhaled and rested his back against the wall. “The seeker.”

Of course. Leave it up to Jayden to give her zero privacy, even after everything that had happened. “I don’t like the idea of Jay being able to see me whenever he wants.” Although in this case, maybe she should have been grateful. She shifted her weight on the hard, thin mattress. “Can we go somewhere else? I’m kinda uncomfortable.”

He held out his hand. “Let me help you up.”

She put weight on her good leg. “I think I can do it.”

“Zanya—”

“No, I really think I can—” Her knee buckled and she caught herself on his shoulders. He slid his arms under her legs and around her back, scooping her off the floor.

“You’re a stubborn woman, you know that?”

Zanya blew a puff of air. “Don’t let Tara hear you say that. She’ll gloat for the next year over someone agreeing with her.” He carried her to the living room and set her down on the couch. She forced an awkward smile. “Thanks.”

“Next time, I might charge a fee.”

She cracked a smile—a real one this time.

His arm draped over the back of the couch behind her, the heat from his body reached through the sheet, soothing her muscles.

His gaze drifted into the air. Zanya tilted her head, admiring the sharp angle of his jaw and the dark lashes lining his chestnut eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

He blinked and met her gaze—searching. “You hung so still in my arms. I was afraid I wouldn’t get you to Peter in time.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

The cold chills melted away, replaced with a rush of heat. She shrugged off the sheet in an effort to stay cool. He made her body react in ways she wasn’t used to and didn’t know how to handle. Maybe it would be a good idea to change the subject before she did something stupid. “Speaking of Tara…where is she?”

Arwan must have taken the hint and rested his hand in his lap, giving her some space. “She’s with Peter. We weren’t sure if you were going to make it. She almost fell apart. If it weren’t for him, I think she might have.”

“It was that bad?”

“She practically tore the room down trying to cling to the doorway while Renato dragged her out.”

Zanya smirked. “Yup. That’s Tara.”

“Do you remember what happened after the attack?”

“Not really. It’s all kind of foggy.”

He nodded, his features solemn. “It may be better that way.”

She sighed and rested her head in her hands. Now that Jayden had arrived, her life had gotten that much more complicated. They hadn’t really spoken yet. Not really. And she had no idea if she’d have the resolve to sit with him and look him in the eye. Not without punching him in the face, first.

“Stop worrying,” he said.

“Easier said than done.”

“Okay. Then rest now, worry later.”

He stood and pulled the sheet back over her shoulders. “You’re not strong enough to walk to your room. Just sleep on the couch. It’s comfortable.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep.” She curled into a ball and hugged herself. “Not after that.”

“You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

“Maybe not here. But…” She dropped her gaze and swallowed. “When I fall asleep, it’s a whole other story. Tara used to be there to wake me up if I had a nightmare. Now…” She curled into a tighter ball and rested her cheek on her knees.

He sat back down beside her. “If it’ll help you sleep, I can stay.”

Her lips parted as she struggled to seem unconcerned. But with Sarian invading her dreams, and then the creature nearly taking her leg, there was nothing she found more appealing than him staying beside her. “I…” Her stomach twisted. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I know.” He leaned against the armrest of the couch and draped his forearm over his eyes. “But I will.”

She yawned and took the other side of the couch, stretching her legs out the best she could. His leg brushed against hers as he shifted to get comfortable.

Zanya melted into the cushions, completely aware of Arwan lying at the bottom of her feet. The sound of his breath was familiar—like the white noise of a fan she used to fall asleep to every night. And he was right. The couch wasn’t bad. Her eyes glided closed and she exhaled a long, cleansing breath before she drifted to sleep.

***

Zanya had never experienced the brush of a man’s hand trail down the crease of her back. Arwan drew her closer. Breaths passed through her lips in a sweet exhale as she combed her fingers through his silky hair. The contrast of his bronze skin against her lighter tone was striking. His muscles bulged when his arms tightened around her waist, engulfing her in a blanket of serenity. He trailed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and down her shoulder.

She yelped and giggled when his breath tickled against her ribs. His dark eyes, glossed with desire, searched hers. The tip of his tongue parted her lips in a deep kiss.

Zanya arched her back. She wanted to be close to him, to feel his chest against hers, to trace her fingers over the curves of his shoulders. She broke their kiss, panting, his breaths mimicking hers. Her lips found the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, and his neck.

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, tantalizing her skin. Hovering above her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up. She hung in his arms, her head tilted back as he kissed a trail over her chest.

Her cotton panties tangled in his fingers. Her body went rigid and she grabbed his hand. “Arwan, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“What do you mean, you aren’t ready?” He sat up. “What did you think was going to happen?”

Her throat tightened. She thought he’d understand. “I…I don’t know.” Her gaze drifted through the room. Shimmering silk curtains hung over the canopy bed. A wall of windows let in light from the moon and stars above the rolling waves of the sea just outside. Where were they?

A breeze caressed her skin. In only her underclothes, she suddenly felt completely naked. Her attention shifted from their lovely beachside room to the open glass windows.

Arwan grabbed her wrist. She whimpered, searching his beautiful face. What happened to him? Why didn’t he understand?

She focused on her only means of escape—the open doors leading to the beach. Before she could get to her feet, the windows slowly began to melt. Hot, dripping glass bubbled and warped into puddles on the floor. The roof rolled back like a scroll, exposing the star-speckled sky. The tiny orbs spun so quickly, they formed bright circles like twirling sparklers.

His grip tightened, bright violet now lining the irises of his eyes. It pulsed and glowed, seeping out until it covered his entire irises.

With all her strength, she kicked him away and scrambled out of the bed, falling to the wood floor with a thud and slamming her shoulder against the corner of a nightstand. She grabbed the sheet hanging over the mattress and covered herself with it. When she pushed to her feet, Sarian stood on the other side of the bed, his body no more than a silhouette in front of the light of the full moon.

She skimmed her trembling hand along the top of the table, finding the base of a heavy lamp. She gripped it as tightly as she could and waited for him to strike.

“I wish you would simply submit. It would be much easier on you.”

“Get away from me.” She pursed her lips, and a tear slipped over the crease of her mouth. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“I’m afraid, young guardian, that simply won’t happen.”

***

Arwan

“Zanya, wake up.” Arwan shook her by the shoulders. She moaned and whimpered. He tightened his lips and shook her again, harder this time. “Zanya.”

She closed her eyes tighter and flailed her arms, slapping his chest. He didn’t try to dodge her strikes. “Open your eyes.” His words turned into pleading. Something was hurting her.

She froze, and with a sharp inhale, woke up. Her teary eyes searched his face. He backed away to give her space. Zanya scrambled against the arm of the couch, her gaze darting frantically around the west wing. After a moment, her back melted into the cushions.

She covered her face with her hands and let out a deep sob.

Arwan rested his hand on her arm. When she winced away from his touch, a dull pain throbbed in his heart. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” She didn’t need to tell him what happened in her dream. Sarian would never give up.

She peeked at him from between her fingers. “How did you know?”

His scowled. “You were screaming. You were screaming at me, then him.”

Zanya sat up and wiped away tears. “I was?”

“Was I hurting you?” His head hung low, bearing the shame he had known far too long. “Is that what was happening?” He couldn’t have expected any less. She didn’t know what he was made of. What he was capable of. Perhaps his darkness had somehow polluted her.

Zanya threw her arms around him. Her hair cascaded across his cheek, carrying the same scent of vanilla and lavender. Her hold grew tighter, and everything inside of him came alive with the need to hold her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, embracing the warmth of her body pressed close to his.

“Zanya—”

“Thank you for waking me.” Her voice quivered.

He couldn’t tear Sarian out of her mind, but there was something he could do when the time was right, and he was fully prepared.