The Bloodgate Warrior (10 page)

His fingers were too tight on my head for me to nod, so I plead in my mind.
Yes. Técun, please, yes.

“Good.” He exhaled a long, heavy breath against my ear. “You’re mine to take as long and hard as I want. As many times as I want. And oh,
noyollotl
, how I want you.”

I expected him to piston into me hard and fast as he’d threatened, but he didn’t thrust so much as flex every inch of that incredibly muscled body against me. After he’d given me so much pleasure without his own release, I couldn’t believe how slowly and deliciously he rubbed against me. He let out a low, rumbling sound that vibrated his chest against my back, another unexpected but powerful caress.

The quetzal mark fluttered beneath my skin, as though it stretched out its wings and wallowed in Técun—his scent, his body, his magic. The air hummed around us, sweet with the rich scent of his hair and the fresh, green smell of the jungle. With every breath and touch, he sank deeper into me, sliding through my pores, rushing through my veins.

My tension dissolved, muscles languid and limbs heavy. For the first time in my life, I simply existed without thought or will. I gave myself up to Técun completely. At this point, I’d trust him to breathe for me if it were possible. He’d already given me so much pleasure tonight that even if I didn’t come again I wouldn’t be able to complain. He filled every secret corner and cranny of my mind, heart, and body.

No fear or lingering doubt clouded my mind. How could I be afraid when he shone so brightly in my heart?

A tremor shook his great body. He must have been waiting for that ultimate surrender, because now, the dam broke. He reared back, hauling himself out of me inch by inch, only to slam back inside, crushing me with his weight and force. I let out a deep, ragged sound, not a scream or a moan, but something feral and helpless.

A sound that he evidently liked very much indeed, because he hammered home again, dragging that cry from me over and over. Each thrust shoved me farther across the bed, slipping on the luxuriously soft sheets. Closing my eyes, I drank him in, through his heated skin, his musky scent, the heavy thud of his flesh upon mine. Pressure rose within me. My skin felt too tight, my body too small to contain it.

His mouth locked on the quetzal in my shoulder and I detonated. My heart stopped, my stomach pitched, just like I was tumbling crazily through the air, helpless to catch myself. Every muscle clenched, aching with strain.

He shuddered on top of me, his release only buoying mine ever higher. He must have pulled me into a dream again, because we were floating. Together we soared, his mighty wings pumping the air. We rolled and thrashed in the sky, wallowing in each other, falling, surely, but I didn’t know any fear.

Not while he held me.

Slowly, I returned to awareness. He enfolded me in his embrace, his hair falling across my cheek. If the fire alarm shrilled in the middle of the night, I didn’t think I’d be able to move a single muscle to get up and flee the hotel.

He murmured against my ear. “
Noyollotl
?”

I cracked an eye open but didn’t try to turn around.

“I shall still be here when you open your eyes on the morrow.”

Smiling, I snuggled back deeper against his chest and wrapped my arms around his, holding him close. As I drifted off to sleep I had the strange sensation that feathers tickled my arm.

Chapter Eight

1581 by Leonor de Alvarado y Xiotenega Tecubalsi
Translated by Carla Guzmán Gonzales, 1970

It’s done to the best of my ability.

Weariness weights my limbs and head so I can barely write, but I must get my thoughts down now while they’re fresh. This is one of those events that will begin to fade immediately because my human mind won’t want to remember.

It’s easier to pretend I dreamed it all.

Pedro de Alvarado’s corpse was delivered in state to the cathedral yesterday. Flowers and sweet-smelling candles decorated the entire church. His banners and armor were on full display, and I’d opened the wooden box they’d brought him in so everyone could see his twisted hate-filled face crumbling away.

The spear he treasured was in his crossed hands. The once gleaming armor that had made him look like a god was dusty with his own decayed flesh and dented from where the horse fell on him during battle, causing his death. I recognized him despite the decay, so I’m sure the people could too. They witnessed his corpse, crossing themselves and looking to me standing in my black dress and veil to the side, desperate fear and hope shining in their tears.

We took him below, not to the stately tomb beside his Spanish wife or even to where dear Mamá lay, but deep beneath the church.

To my people’s temple.

The Spanish took great glee in destroying our cities and forcing us to give up our beliefs. They thought by building a Catholic church on top of our old pyramids that they could wipe the old ways from our memory. They might have burned our histories, but the daykeepers remember the history as well as they see the future. They remembered the altar beneath the church.

Even more, they remembered the hole that had once been the place that we used to communicate with the dead.

The ritual was very nearly beyond me. A priest of old could have buried Alvarado in the deepest pit of hell, where all I managed to do was crack open Xibalba’s gate and throw him beyond. Likely the blood of a few innocents would have accomplished my deed, for what I did was dark and evil. Our hell is not meant for whites with no knowledge of our ways, yet there I sent Alvarado’s wicked soul to travail on the White Road, even knowing that there was no way he could ever find his way through to the promised rest beneath the Great World Tree.

The demon lords of Xibalba will have my father.

That is what I wanted, isn’t it? I’m weeping now but I don’t know if it’s relief or regret or simply weakness. Surely not remorse.

Surely not.

Mamá always said that the greatest power came from a personal sacrifice. She claimed that one drop of her blood given willingly had more power than an innocent’s life, and if blood was spilled for love, then the power she raised was greater than all the blood darkening Alvarado’s sword.

I gave my blood in hate tonight, offering so much that they had to carry me outside to my waiting carriage. Will it be enough to keep Alvarado locked forever in Xibalba? When I meet Mamá on the other side, will she say
well done, my child,
and pull me into her welcoming arms? Or will she bow her head and weep at what I’ve done?

I cursed a man with everlasting torment. Me, not the gods, not the powers of his Church.

Me.

I hope I have not merely given Xibalba a new demon lord to wreak punishment and destruction on us all.

* * *

Even walking down the street was complicated now that Técun had come to me. Every time I turned around, a new man—or three or four—had joined us. I couldn’t tell what drew the people toward him, other than his large physique. He looked like a warrior. People saw that and came to him, but why they kept following us, I wasn’t sure.

“They’re my army,” he replied, drawing me slightly closer to his side. “They come to aid us in our battle.”

“What battle?” Natalie and I both retorted at the same time. She walked on my other side, too busy flirting with one of the Rojases to be jealous of me.

“While it was only a minor minion, the creature last night will not be alone.”

I wasn’t a clingy, wringing-my-hands sort of woman, but the memory of that zombie made me crowd against Técun so closely I tripped over his feet. “Where did it come from?”

“We shall find out.”

We paused outside the broken remains of the Cathedral of San José. Once it’d been the most recognizable site in Antigua, but now it was mostly a jumble of white stone.

“An earthquake destroyed the façade about a week ago.” José’s face was lined with sorrow. “Even then, it wasn’t the original building, which was destroyed long ago. Some say this site is cursed.”

Warning tape had been set up outside the perimeter to keep tourists out, but I didn’t see any guards other than ours.

“Why here?” Natalie couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. She’d been dying to see this site in all its glory, but there was hardly anything left. “I’d heard the news, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“As he says, this place is cursed.” Face grim and hard, Técun gave orders to his men in their language. Presumably telling them to stand guard, but I couldn’t figure out why they faced the building, instead of trying to keep people out…

Oh. They were here to keep things
in.

“The creature that attacked last night was a conquistador. Many of them were buried here, especially the more famous and powerful. It wouldn’t surprise me if Alvarado himself is here.” Técun looked down at me, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Perhaps you should stay out here with your friend until I know what we must face. I don’t know what we’ll find inside.”

“No way,” Natalie retorted while my mouth was still hanging open to say, sure, absolutely, look at the nice sunlight and the streets of people. Much better than an earthquake-damaged ruin where demons could possibly be climbing out of hell. “I’ve been dying to see this place, even if it’s destroyed. And if Alvarado is really buried here, then I want to see it. I bet his tomb is magnificent. I love old graveyards.”

My knees were clacking together. “No, you don’t, Nat. He’s buried deep beneath the church.”

Nat paled but lifted her chin. “How do you know where he’s buried when we’ve never been here before? Did you dream that too?”

“Leonor wrote about it in the journal, and everything else she’s written has been true.” I forced what I hoped to be a confident smile, even if I clutched his arm. “Besides, with Técun here, maybe I am Lara Croft.”

The Rojases passed out flashlights and the seven of us ducked beneath the warning tape. My shoulders hunched. I expected police or soldiers to come racing after us any moment, but the square remained silent.

“It’s quiet,” Natalie whispered loudly. “Too quiet.”

I groaned. “That’s so bad.”

Laughing, she locked arms with me. “But you love me anyway.”

I heaved out a dramatic sigh. “You know I do.”

“And me?”
Técun whispered in my head. I wanted to ignore it and pretend like I was imagining things, but the tattoo he’d buried in my skin fluttered its wings. Not on my shoulder…but my chest. The damned thing had moved as he’d warned, directly over my heart.
“Do you love me, Cassie?”

My big, bad legendary warrior actually sounded…tentative. My stupid heart melted.
“Didn’t I show you well enough last night how much I care for you? I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

A sudden wave of guilt from him flooded me, so I squeezed his arm, digging my fingernails into his skin.
“And you have the scratches. Maybe a bruise or two, as well. You know it was good.”

“Damned good.”
He agreed, repeating my words from last night. As though we weren’t having a private mental conversation, he led the way through the rubble, testing the rocks and debris with his own weight first.
“But that is not love, Cassie.”

He paused, scanning the floor with the flashlight. Parts of the façade still stood, casting shadows across his face. Staring at him in his very normal-looking jeans and T-shirt, I could almost pretend that he was just a gorgeous man I’d met on vacation. I’d have a really good time, and then I’d go home. I’d go back to my job, my life, and none of it involved him.

My chest tightened, crushed as though he held me pinned beneath him again. I didn’t want this. Not to fall hopelessly in love with a supernatural being-slash-alien creature from some gate I didn’t understand—a man who was doomed to die in another horrific battle.

Without turning to face me, he whispered in my head again.
“I would die for you, Cassie.”

I wanted to say that I didn’t care. That I wouldn’t miss him, wouldn’t ache for his arms or strain to hear his voice. I’d already lived like that for months while he tormented me in dreams. We’d talked for hours—all in my sleep—until I felt like I’d known him all my life. How much worse would it be now that I’d held him in the flesh? If I knew he was alive and breathing, walking on this earth, and I couldn’t have him?

Or worse, what if he died in this battle?

Would he go back to his world for another thousand years?

Crippled at the thought, I leaned against a tumbled chunk of stone and tried to breathe through the pain crushing my chest. Wordlessly, I watched him sift through the rubble, heaving huge stones and crumbled pillars out of his way.

The other men watched as unabashedly as I did because a legend walked among them again. From the look in the Rojases’ eyes, they’d follow him anywhere, even to the darkest pit of hell. José gave me a worshipful look that made my stomach quiver.

I didn’t belong in a legend. I was just an American woman tracing my family roots. I was on
vacation
. I certainly wasn’t trying to save the world from God only knew what. I just wanted to go home. To my empty apartment, my long work-filled days…

Lies. I’d been lying to myself for years, telling myself I had it all, when I was empty inside.

Empty until him.

Técun heaved a massive chunk of building out of the way, revealing steps that led down into a black hole. My heart sank and my stomach churned uneasily, so I could only imagine what Natalie was feeling at the prospect of another spelunking adventure.

“You really were serious.” Natalie glared at me like I’d personally hidden Alvarado’s presumably stately tomb in a dungeon. “I was expecting a graveyard with gorgeous old stones. Not a
hole
. In the
ground
. Don’t you remember what happened at the last cave you dragged me to? You can’t do this again!”

I didn’t want to go down into another hole either, but I didn’t want to let Técun down. Or José, gazing at me like I was some kind of goddess.