Mayan Blood (20 page)

Marzena gripped Renato’s arm, a grave expression hardening her tiny features.

“I know.” Renato patted her hand, as if trying to reassure her. “But Zanya is right. It is quite likely our only option.”

“Do you know Contessa?” Zanya asked. Marzena’s eyes darted to her, narrow and dark. It was disturbing to see the face of a small child so cold and fierce.

“Contessa was once Sarian’s lover,” Renato explained. “He manipulated her, and eventually convinced her to kill his mother. When she did, his mother’s darkness was woven into Contessa’s soul. He soon grew tired of her and attempted to kill her by stabbing her through the heart. She survived, but only by black magic, and now lives on borrowed time.”

“How do you borrow time?” Hawa said.

“By stealing the souls of others, and using them to fuel her own existence.”

Zanya slowly sat back down on the couch. “I, uh…I didn’t know that.”

“And she does not work for free. If we are going to ask for her patronage, we must offer her payment. It is usually a heavy price.”

“I mean, we aren’t poor,” Hawa said. “We could sell some shares in the stocks we’re invested in and just pay her off.”

Renato frowned. “Unlikely.”

Zanya swallowed, her hands iced over. This lady was a lot worse than she’d originally thought. Maybe it was a bad idea. Jayden took her hand. “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine.”

“How do we find her?” Peter asked.

“She currently resides in Moscow. It is where she has lived for centuries. We will travel there and begin our search. I have an feeling that once we land in her town, she will come for us.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zanya found her window seat on the commercial jet and settled in. The chair was plush and comfortable with a touch screen television in the seat back in front of her. She had never flown before.

So far, so good.

Jayden walked down the narrow aisle and paused beside her while inspecting his ticket. He frowned and then continued toward the back of the plane.

Marzena took her seat beside Renato. The stewardess crouched and handed Marzena a captain’s wing pin, fussing over how cute Marzena’s freckles were, and what a big girl she was for flying in first class with her daddy.

Zanya stifled a laugh. If that stewardess didn’t back off soon, she may end up with an unexplained migraine for the rest of the flight.

Tara stopped beside Zanya's seat. “This is so awesome.” Her elated squeak made the child passing behind her giggle. “Can you believe we’re going to Russia? I’ve never flown first class before.”

“Tara, you’ve never flown before.”

She paused, her lips parted while she took a moment to think. “Well, maybe that’s true, but this is still awesome.”

Zanya laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty great.” And it was—for the most part. She scanned the plane for Arwan, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

A man of reasonable girth standing behind Tara cleared his throat. Tara rolled her eyes. “Don’t have a heart attack. I’m going.” She smiled at Zanya. “I’ll see you in Moscow!” She trotted to her seat.

Zanya's chest tightened when she spotted Arwan walking down the aisle. A group of girls giggled and whispered as he passed. She couldn’t blame them for seeing exactly what she did—muscles packed under a fitted shirt and smoky eyes. Still, that didn’t stop her from wanting to slap them upside the head.

He double checked his seat number, slid his bag under the seat beside Zanya and plopped down. He smiled softly, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The pilot made an announcement, the Fasten Seat Belt sign pinged on, and Zanya gripped the armrest as if she were riding a roller coaster. The engines roared and she watched the ground move out the window. The acceleration pinned her against her seat, and as the plane’s tires lifted off the ground. Her stomach dropped. Suddenly she didn’t appreciate the idea of riding thirty thousand feet in the air with no control over going up or down. The plane bobbed and shook.

She drew in a deep breath, groping inside her pocket for the pendant Cualli had given her. She’d gotten accustomed to carrying it around everywhere, especially since it helped her stay calm. She pulled in another deep breath and closed her eyes, humming a few notes to herself, and finding comfort in the melody. The pendant seemed to grow warm in her palm. She curled her fingers around it and continued humming.

“You really like that thing, don’t you?”

She opened her eyes to find Arwan examining the necklace in her hand. “So you’re talking to me now?” She didn’t make any effort to mask the sarcasm in her tone. The plane pitched again. She sucked in a breath and held it, rubbing her fingers over the wicker pendant. When the plane stabilized, she continued to hum. The melody was muffled in her ears from the altitude change. “Is it going to be like this the whole flight?”

“Do you want me to get Peter?”

“No, it’s fine.” She glanced at him. “Thanks.”

He pulled a bottle of water out of his carryon and dampened a napkin. “Here.” He pressed it over her forehead and along her temples. The cool water soothed the heat flushing her face. She slid her fingers up his forearm. She missed his touch so much, it was almost unbearable.

He pulled away, causing a streak of pain to spike in her chest. “I have something for you.”

Please don’t let it be Dramamine and an airsick bag.

He reached in his back pocket and took out a small, teal box with a silver heart charm dangling off the top.

Her breath hitched. “What’s this?”

“It’s a birthday gift. I got it at the airport.” He extended it to her. “There’s not much in the way of gifts in the jungle.”

She touched the tiny silver charm. There was no way she would be able to set things straight if she opened this box first, so folded down the tray table and placed it in front of her. “I think need to talk.”

“I know. Just, let me say something first.”

Of course. He was going to give her the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” speech, and whatever was waiting for her in that box was his way of softening the blow.

Arwan turned toward her in his seat, his shoulders rigid. He seemed nervous, which made sense. Her hands began to shake. She couldn’t stand it anymore. “Just do it. Just get it over with.”

“If that’s what you want.” It was. Like a bandage—the faster, the better. He cleared his throat. “I admire you, Zanya.” He touched her cheek. “I am fascinated by you. I’m entranced by you.” Every word came out softer than the next. He dropped his hand from her cheek. “You’re so many things I’m not, and I know I shouldn’t care about you. Not the way I do.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I refuse to lose you. I know I deserve to, but please don’t give up on me. We can take it slow.”

The genuine warmth behind his gaze was affirmation enough. She swallowed. “Slow is good.”

His chest jumped. She saw it, felt it in the flinch of his fingers entwined in hers. “Is that a yes?”

She wanted nothing more than to just say yes and kiss him. God, she had wanted to taste his lips for so long—more than just a soft, sweet kiss. But if they were going to work, he had to understand. “Under two conditions. No more questions about my friendship with Jayden. We’re just friends. That’s it. No more. Not ever.”

“And the second one?”

She stared down at the pendant. “I’m not your responsibility. I don’t ever want you to treat me like that again.”

Arwan responded by picking up the tiny box and holding it out to her. “Deal. Now open your gift.”

And just like that, everything was in place. Tara was home, her and Arwan were back to normal—whatever that was—and Jayden…well, he was still Jayden, sitting a few rows back, strumming an air guitar. However crazy and insane her life was, it wouldn’t be the same without him, or the other people she’d gotten to know. Her family.

She snatched the box and tilted open the lid. Her breath caught in her throat, and she hooked the short chain around her fingers, pulling out the butterfly bracelet. Colored gemstones glittered inside the wings that ended in a scroll tip.

“It’s beautiful.” Nobody had ever given her a birthday gift before. Sure, her friends did what they could; fresh-picked wildflowers, an extra portion of dessert in the cafeteria, but nothing like this. “It’s so thoughtful.” Arwan took the bracelet and clasped it around her wrist.

“Why butterflies?”

The edges of his mouth pulled into a grin. “I remembered the butterfly field.”

Her cheeks flushed with heat. It wasn’t exactly the best memory they had together. She’d pushed him away and run off, leaving him in the middle of the jungle. “So…you’re a glutton for punishment?”

He smiled. It was the first wide, brilliant smile she’d ever seen. “I guess you could say that.”

***

The next day, the group stood in the lobby of their hotel, waiting for Renato to finish checking in.

Zanya flipped up her jacket collar and yawned.

Tara hadn’t slept well last night. The sound of her entangled in her sheets, getting up and down out of bed, and deep nightmare-induced moans kept Zanya up most of the night. It wasn’t like Tara to have nightmares. She usually slept like a rock. What was even stranger was how she left the room, and didn’t come back until morning.

Tara finally stepped off the elevator and dragged herself beside Zanya, rubbing her puffy eyes.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Tara yawned. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right. Where have you been all night?”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Zanya shrugged. “You know me. I’m used to sleeping like crap. But you…”

“I’m fine, Zanya.” Her tone was sharp—probably grumpy from the lack of sleep. “It’s just the jet lag.”

Renato finally arrived, and the group huddled around him. “Since we don’t know exactly where Contessa lives, I suggest we break up into groups.” He reached into a plastic bag and removed several cell phones. “These are international phones I purchased in town this morning. I took the liberty of programming each other’s numbers into the devices. They will work anywhere in the world, so from now on, please keep them with you.”

“Nice.” Jayden snatched his and played with the settings.

“If you want to break into groups, you may, but please stay with at least one other person at all times. Keep your eyes and ears open. If you get in trouble, auto dial me immediately. And if you spot Contessa, text the group your location.”

“How will we know who she is?” Hawa said.

“When you see her, you will know. There is no mistaking a powerful witch for a commoner.”

“Witch? She’s a witch?” Tara’s harsh whisper made Marzena scowl.

“She uses her extraordinary beauty to lure men into bed before consuming their souls. You may call her a siren, a witch, a succubus, or a bandit of life. Whatever you call her, be sure not to underestimate her abilities.” Renato gestured to the guys. “And do not allow her to seduce you.”

“Isn’t she like, a thousand years old?” Jayden smirked. “Talk about cougar syndrome.”

“This is no matter to take lightly!” Marzena’s voice amplified in Zanya's ears, threatening to buckle her knees. Several people in the lobby stopped their conversations and stared. Marzena lowered her head and returned to silence.

Renato waited for the people to go back to their business as Zanya steadied herself, squinting through a sharp pain in her temples. Marzena gave her an apologetic glance.

“Marzena is right,” Renato said in a hushed tone. “Contessa may be old in years, but her appearance is untouched by time, and she is deadly.”

Peter took Tara’s hand. “Got it.”

“Let’s do this.” Hawa slapped Jayden on the arm. “Come on.”

“Um…okay.” He turned to Zanya. “Be careful.”

“We will.” She shifted closer to Arwan. Jayden pursed his lips into a tight line, and then followed Hawa out the door.

“We’re on the other end of the phone if you need us,” Renato said, standing close to Marzena. “Just call.”

Zanya followed Arwan out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp and cold. The inside of her nose burned with every breath. “Where do we start?”

“Anywhere, I guess.”

They started to walk, and kept walking, weaving between residential roads, tiny stone paths, under bridges, and in every other direction they could think of. Hours later, Zanya's feet ached, and worse, they hadn’t found even a hint of Contessa’s whereabouts. “So we’re just going to wander around all day until we bump into her on the streets?”

“Renato said she would locate us if we made ourselves available.”

She stopped and slumped against a brick wall. “I’m exhausted.”

“Maybe we should get something to eat.” He squinted up at the sky. “It’s nearly two o’clock. We’ve been walking for almost five hours.”

Her stomach growled at the mere thought of food. “That sounds like a really good idea.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out and read the text from Tara.

Contessa is here in the food district. Hurry. Peter’s in trouble.

Zanya snapped her phone shut. “Tara found her, but something’s wrong. They’re in the food district.”

They ran at an annoyingly-slow pace—human speed. Arwan was fast, but now Zanya was faster, and she couldn’t wait for him. “I can get there quicker than you. I’ll go ahead and meet you there.”

“Be careful.”

Zanya sprinted ahead, darting behind buildings so as not to be seen or have her photo accidentally taken by an unsuspecting tourist. When she was forced to weave through crowds, she ran at human pace as quickly as she could without appearing unnatural. As soon as she was shielded from the public eye, she pressed on the gas.

Tiny stores and modest Russian homes passed by in a blur, as did the textured stone pathway and rows of bicycles chained to racks. It all seemed to just melt into a streak of color—just like Hawa looked when she sprinted. Still, Zanya remained hypersensitive to obstacles in her way. She dodged through alleys, under clotheslines, and around the occasional stray dog with ease.

Emerged from behind a massive building was an entire block filled with wooden carts loaded with fresh fruit. She screeched to a halt and closed her eyes in search for Tara, finding her beside a brick wall yards away. After careful maneuvering through hustling crowds, she grabbed her friend’s arm.

Tara spun around and jerked away, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh, it’s you!”