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Authors: Catherine LaClaire

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BOOK: Born Into Love
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He shrugged. “I cannot resist the lure of the tomb.”

“Why did they sacrifice Diego?”

“He was the bravest brother.”

“There must have been brave men within the tribe.”

“He and his brother were fierce fighters. They could write and read. They were tall. They fascinated Marta and the leaders. My ancestors wanted the infusion of new strength.”

“You hate Diego so much.”

“He squandered his gift. He could control a country, have an army.”

“Why cause all this trouble? Make an altar in your house and honor your ancestors there.” She paused. “Unless there’s something you need and it’s in the tomb.”

“I believe my ancestors are waiting.” He tossed a vial of green liquid into her lap. “You have scratched the bites. They’re irritated. Use this.”

“Where are your present-day relatives?”

He indicated the jungle with a wave of his hand.

“Then why are you alone? Don’t they accept you?”

He squared his shoulders. “They have forgotten. They have lost their center. I promised to give it back to them.” He walked away, dug into his gear and scribbled into a shriveled leather notebook. Mercedes smoothed her hair now sticking out like tufts of hay. Personal hygiene had taken a dive. She grabbed the vial and dove under the net. She tested the sorcerer’s remedy on a lone bite. The stuff worked. Quickly she spread it along her hairline and temples. Truth was Teodoro’s kindness scared her. She looked up as he vanished into the tree line. Everyone had a place to go except her.

“I wish Diego were here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

While his winged cousins clung to fruited branches, Diego waited. Soon other animals approached anticipating juicy scraps but those four-legged visitors became his nourishment. When his skin again rode his skeleton with ease, he released the last animal.

He
reappeared in human form, but his arms and hands twitched like wings, the nerves not quite restored. He rested against a trunk as thick as he was tall. The rough bark pricked his skin and discomfited his spine but those sensations did not last.

When next
he stepped onto a trail he navigated as a wolf. As his paws sank in the soil, camp smoke filled his snout. Odors streamed into his nostrils.

He
entered the campsite, circled Teodoro who had isolated himself preferring to sit under a leafy canopy. Roots, resin, grasses, leaves and fruit filled Diego’s being. Closer. The sorcerer faced Diego, his head wrapped by a headband with feathers streaked black and white. His movement sent the plumes in motion as if they still belonged on their owners. Ma’ta had worn one like it. The hair on Diego’s nape rose. A gun belonging to Remy lay in his lap. Diego loped into the jungle confused. Human thoughts had entered his wolf brain, the knowledge blending.

 

“You’re really late.” Mercedes raised her hand. “Don’t explain. I forgot it’s none of my business.”

Diego
took her at her word and presented a fruit whose name he did not know. He split the largest in half. “It resembles an apple, but its flesh is more textured.” She wiped bits of leaves off the skin and took a bite.

“Delicious. Want some?”

“Yes,” he answered because the longing persisted.

She read
his face. “Sorry. I forgot.” A sigh raised her chest. “If only we could regain our lives.” She licked her lips and fingers. “Lord only knows what bacteria I’m eating.” She took another bite. “When Remy’s not around, I feel like a tourist. A therapist would call it denial.”

“Have you noticed? Sometimes we and our captors function as a group. That distorts our perception. Be mindful. As soon as Procteur has what he wants, he will shoot us.”

“I want to make peace with you.”

He
kissed her hand. “I should ask your forgiveness.”

“I hated you.”

“And now?”

“I’m less angry. Best I can do.”

They sat in silence as she finished the fruit.

“Tell me what happened in this village. The explanation’s overdue.”

“I remember torches and monotonous drums. We thought we were being welcomed. Yet, when I think back, I see glances exchanged among the villagers. They showed a falseness that I should have read. Within days we grew suspicious and Rodrigo showed fear. Marta came and took my hand. I bathed, shaved my beard and she sprinkled my skin with a red stinging powder that came alive on my flesh. My body shook. I tried to hide my terror. They stretched me on a stone altar, tied me spread-eagled. Drooling and mumbling, Ma’ta invoked a name.

“The drums stopped. Ku’lanc rose over me. I struggled against the hide straps, but my effort served no purpose. When I looked into his red eyes, only hunger glanced back.”

“What did he do?”


He dug his fangs into my neck. Sounds that had stored themselves in the trees for eons crashed into my ears. I screamed. At the same time as my life blood drained, I filled with a tarry sickness. I snarled into life, undead and crazed.”

“My bonds broke like paper strips. I launched myself above the village, my vision keen, predatory. Rodrigo lay twisted at the foot of the altar. He had been stabbed and discarded. I dove through the air to challenge Ku’lanc. He created me but I knew no gratitude.”

“How’d you get away?”

“I grabbed Ma’ta’s staff, broke it, and jammed it into the vampire’s chest.”

“What happened?”

“He laughed. Anticipating a return blow, I retreated.
Neither he nor I knew he would die. Then he staggered. Black ooze cascaded onto the altar steps. I picked him up and tossed him into the fire.”

“They let you?”

“His worshippers vanished into caves or behind buttress roots. Some reached the river.”

“How do you know?”

“I tracked them. Ma’ta remained by the altar, muttering. He crouched by the puddle of Ku’lanc’s blood, dipped a knife into it and faced me.” Similar to what Teodoro had done with the blood of the old botanist at the museum.

“And the villagers?”

“Hunted and destroyed, except for pregnant Tala.”

Mercedes hugged her knees. “You died in a nightma
re.”

“When I returned from the river, Rodrigo’s body had disappeared.”

“What about this tomb they want? You never saw gold or jewels?”

“Never. And once I turned, what interest did they have for me?”

Mercedes gently took his hand. “Ku’lanc stole your life, but your spirit came back.”

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

Diego
heard the rumble before chunks of courtyard granite catapulted into the air. Mercedes ripped away the netting and tried to stand. Remy dove into shrubs, chased by a terrified tapir. Both had eyes huge and darting. José wavered, trying to secure a hold on a branch, but gripped Teodoro instead. They tumbled onto the frenzied soil.

Mercedes fell in a landscape of battling currents.
Diego scooped her in his arms. A rock slab rose in front of them like a tombstone. José crawled to it and hung on until the tremors ceased.

Boulders, sounding like massive hooves of prehistoric beasts, fell close by.
He placed Mercedes on terra firma. But she surprised him. She preferred the safety of his arms.

“These earthquakes work in my favor,” proclaimed Teodoro as he struggled to stand but fell back weakened by a siege of coughing. José extended an arm but the sorcerer shook his head. Soon after he leaped like a madman into a standing position and straightened his headpiece. “We must hurry.”

Remy struggled to his feet. “The ground’s still moving. Wait.”

Teodoro speared him with a crazed eye. “Pick up your knapsack.”

Remy flushed. “We’re partners. I say we wait.”

“Idiota! What do you think is happening to the tomb?”

Procteur’s lips froze in a tight line and he gathered his gear. The sorcerer painted his face with black dust from a second pouch around his neck. He looked at Diego. “Find the tomb.”

 

* * *

 

He did not travel far. The granite monolith tossed into the Amazon Basin by an ancient cataclysmic force, lay like a forgotten errata on the forest floor, strangled by vines and weakened by fresh cracks still spitting dust. Time had tamped Marta’s mountain down; vegetation had eaten its volume. Still the place drew them as if they had come to worship.

Tremors persisted but the forest remained weirdly hushed. Fauna and flora recognized
they were also an enemy and seemed to wait. The atmosphere created its own tension. Caught up in the strange mood Mercedes whispered, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Teodoro’s eyes bored into
Diego’s. “Is the village near?” Diego moved in on him and let his fangs rupture.

“Give Mercedes the seed.”

“Ah,” he said, “you use your power. I am envious.” He reached under his headband and removed a packet of folded leaves. He gave two seeds to Mercedes, and José, reading the situation, offered a canteen.

“Take one now and one tomorrow.”

“That’s it? And then I’m safe?”

He gentled his voice like a father speaking to a child. “No fevers will bother you.”

She swallowed the antidote. She would need no more of his cure because she would be dead. But their captor had entered the jungle to get them. The source existed and it had to be close. Teodoro had more to say. “I am not careless like you, Diego.” He threw the leaves into the fire. “You thought you killed everyone, but you missed the hunting party.” He rubbed his temples. “Now circle the perimeter of the monolith.”

Remy shook his head. “Monolith? Exaggerate much? The whole thing’s strange. This baby couldn’t have been dropped from a glacier. Maybe some ancient volcano burped it out.”
Remy’s flinty eyes held Diego’s. “He’s not as wacked as you, Castilla, but on the same page. As long as we find gold, I can deal.”

“Look for openings.”

Remy snickered at Teodoro’s command. “How? What can we see? Got a flamethrower?”

“Nevertheless, we will search.”

The sorcerer divided them into groups. Remy and Diego tracked to the left. He kept his hand on his gun and Diego resisted tossing him into the canopy. The others headed right. When they met, all eyes focused on an irregularity.

A slab similar to the one José had gripped poked out from a fissure. The temblor had loosened the surrounding rock, but tenacious vegetation held the block in place or so it seemed.

“Bring lanterns,” Teodoro shouted.

Remy handed José his gun. “Cover Castilla.” Then he extracted lightweight flashlights from his knapsack and threw. “Here.”

Mercedes caught hers before it clipped her temple. The sorcerer’s seemed to float into his open hand. His power grew as Diego’s ebbed. Every time his beloved glanced at him, he read the accusation. Why don’t you do something?

Procteur pointed to the sky. “Thanks to Global Positioning, we’ll have visitors real soon.”

Teodoro extracted more black powder. He struggled over severed lianas and then blew the ash-like dust into the fissure. Kneeling on roots, he recited verses in a sibilant language. Procteur and José stared. Mercedes sidled close enough to whisper.

“Now’s our chance. Ten feet, they won’t find us. And I’ve got meds for another day. We can get help.”

Teodoro jerked into a standing position. “The spirits call.” He signaled José to cut the vines. “Remy watch our guests.”

Procteur straightened as if stabbed
. “Exactly what I’ve been doing.” He shifted his stance. “How do you even know this is the right spot? What gives you the clue it’s a tomb?”

“Let’s not fight, boys,” Mercedes said. “But the last question is on target. How do you know?”

Diego had memories of the mountain, but a tomb? Teodoro extended his arm indicating that she and Diego should accompany him. The sorcerer did not answer her question. The cut vegetation exuded a sweet scent. “Time to earn your keep, Mercedes.”

She stepped forward. “Field archaeology isn’t my area. If it’s a tomb, we’ll need. . .”

“Nothing.” His madman eyes glittered.

She wiped her face with a soiled kerchief. “Who’s going to move that hunk of rock?”

“I will,” Remy said.

Mercedes folded her arms. “This I’ve got to see.”

“Watch me.” José took Remy’s gun. Procteur propelled his arms like a discus thrower warming his muscles. He placed his shoulder against the slab and attempted to jolt the stone out of place. It remained frozen.

Teodoro turned to
Diego. “Diego, remind us that you have not outgrown your usefulness.”

Someone had used resin to anchor the slab. Had it not been for the earthquake, the tomb would still be completely sealed. Though some of the hardened sap had cracked, the remnants held fast. “I need the machete.” José obliged and Remy hovered.
Diego sank the steel point into the hardened substance and jabbed.

BOOK: Born Into Love
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