Secrets of the Jaguar (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

Instead of admiring the beauty of the baroque cathedral, she was tragically aware of history’s bully tendencies. Templo Mayor wasn’t just located beside the Spanish cathedral; it was under it and on all sides. And hundreds of years before the cathedral was built, the giant pyramid would have reached even higher toward the sky than the cathedral did in modern times. “It’s hard to believe we’re standing at the heart of where the massacre of an ancient city and all its people took place. The cathedral built on top of Aztec bones, built with Aztec stone.” Michelle sucked in a breath. “You know, when Cortes and his henchmen arrived, they described Tenochtitlan as the greatest, most beautiful city in the world. Larger and grander in architecture than even their home cities in Spain.”

Duncan broke her silence. “You see the city much as it is, a dark palimpsest with many secrets from many different ages.” Brushing a finger gently across her cheek, he had a look of admiration that made her stomach flutter. “You are a very wise and compassionate woman, Michelle.”

She pressed her body into his hard chest reassuringly. “Can we go examine the Templo Mayor?”

“Of course.” He took her hand and as they neared closer to the pyramid, the sound of huehuetl, traditional hand drums, clay flutes and ocarinas drowned out the protestors on the other side of the square. Mayan dancers twirled about in a circle, mostly naked except for their bright headdresses and intricate shin and ankle adornments, which rattled as they danced proudly, like warriors.

Together they entered the Templo Mayor. The stairs of the pyramids were larger than life, adorned by slithering snakes; Michelle could still make out the red paint on the snakes’ mouths.

“This is more incredible than I could have imagined. This is real, not just a recreation, but the real foot of the pyramid. Look at those eagles by the stairs. Did you know that the eagle was quite revered by the Aztecs? It’s actually how they came to be here. They saw the eagle carrying a snake in its talons overhead, and use that as the sign from the gods that they had found their new settlement. The nearby people thought the Aztecs were crazy for wanting to settle on the snake-infested marshland, but look who’s laughing now. Well, I guess they aren’t laughing now because they’ve were massacred by the Spanish. But the Aztecs were an incredibly successful empire.”

“You’re so sexy when you go all history buff on me.” When she blushed, Duncan kissed her cheek. “So you’ve explained the eagle and serpent stone carving, but what’s with the frogs?”

Bubbling with excitement, she elaborated. “The frogs probably represent the aspect of the pyramid dedicated to the Aztec god Tlaloc. Tlaloc was many things to the Aztecs, but most of all it was a rain god associated with water and fertility, which the frogs represent. I can’t believe how incredible the details of the stone sculptures are after all these years. I mean, I couldn’t carve a frog out of stone like that if I tried, and here it is over five hundred years later.”

• • •

When they finally emerged from the Templo Mayor a few hours later, Michelle was infatuated with the city. And Duncan never seemed to take his eyes off her ever-present smile. That, too, was thrilling.

“I can’t believe we got to see Coyolxauhqui’s stone! I can just imagine the dead bodies of the sacrifices cascading down the stairs landing on the stone. Blood would have filled the carving of Coyolxauhqui while the masses of the city cheered for the blood of the heart sacrifice.”

Duncan grinned at Michelle, “Ah, such a romantic.”

She shoved a playful elbow at his hard stomach, but Duncan reacted by grabbing her elbow and them sweeping her into his arms. The two held hands as they stopped to admire the Aztec dancers near the exit. The music was loud, and the scent of burning sage was almost intoxicating. Michelle’s body swayed against Duncan’s comfortably.

Not far off to the side of the dancers was an old man in tattered linen clothes rather than ancient traditional dress, but it was still obvious he was the tribe shaman. His tanned skin was lined with deep creases and his eyes were slits so deep that he appeared without sight. The old man’s chin pointed toward the sky and then violently jutted to the ground as he stood, dispersing sage smoke with a fan of dirty, well-used feathers.

Michelle couldn’t take her eyes off the shaman. Locals lined up to be cleansed by the man, who looked completely out of his mind.

Finally, she turned back to the young tribe members who danced inside the circle, their headdresses bigger than their whole bodies. Suddenly, Duncan jerked her behind him as an unseen force collided with their bodies.

Duncan screamed in pain. Amidst the chaos, Michelle saw his eyes roll back in his head while smoke billowed off his body. Icy fingertips dragged down the side of her face. The elderly shaman heaved himself against her with unnatural strength. She stood, dizzied and confused, unable to fully comprehend the old man behind her.

The frosty palms surged with pulsating power and her mind spun. The scent of sage choked her senses and the bundle lay smoking on the ground where the old man dropped it. Suddenly, light broke out across her vision and she began doubting her consciousness.

The image of the Zocalo faded and abruptly Michelle was experiencing a completely new reality. The jungle canopy soared beneath her, but her legs that dangled high above were transparent, and the shaman was nowhere to be seen. It was dark as midnight and the jungle spun and spun until it was only a lush green blur. And then suddenly, she was in a clearing soaked in blood.

Screams rang out in Michelle’s ears, and women and children ran in every direction chased by gigantic bats. The frightening creatures seemed larger than she had ever seen on the National Geographic Channel — some as large as dogs, and their teeth were jagged, yellow, and tipped with blood.

A woman ran through Michelle, and she finally realized she was having a horrible nightmare. She turned quickly so her eyes could follow the unreal scene. The woman stumbled on the ground and Michelle bent over to help the frenzied woman, but her hand disappeared through the woman’s skin.

A bat swooped down and sunk its fangs into the woman’s neck, tearing flesh and blood as it flew back up into the night. The air was rank with hysteria, and now Michelle could not make out one scream from another. Beastly, pale bodies swarmed all around her, bringing hell to earth. Around her the women were bloodied to death by pallid-skinned beings she could only imagine were vampires or other nightmarish creatures. Time seemed to be in fast forward as she watched the whole village destroyed. With blurs of speed, the vampires were digging holes and burying villagers alive.

Michelle’s heart lodged somewhere in her throat, preventing any hope of breathing. A baby lie on the ground and she reached out to it. The infant’s face contorted in shrill screams that shook its body, and its face began a slow shift to resemble that of a jaguar.

Before she could reach out to the infant again, a bat swooped down from the sky, clutched the infant with its enormous fangs, and carried the baby away. Michelle’s breath finally pushed through in a long, shrill scream as the bat dropped its bundle into a long, dark cenote. The image of the tiny body slowly descending into the pit of the world would forever haunt her.

The last sight before her eyes was a familiar old man with a kind, ruined gaze holding his arms out to her. Another frantic village woman ran through her body and handed the elderly man a bundle. Inside was a squirming, screaming baby. The old man cradled the bundle and spoke with a voice heavy with tragedy.

“Ixchel.”

Another bat swooped down and bit cleanly through the woman’s neck. Into the jungle, the old man turned and fled with the child in his arms.

• • •

The hairs on the back of Duncan’s neck prickled in awareness. As he turned to protect Michelle from whatever approached, his strong hands met the chest of the elderly shaman. From the moment their skin touched, Duncan’s whole body seized with pain. It was as if hot fire bubbled against his skin from the inside. As he rebounded against the old man to protect Michelle, a mystical grip compelled Duncan, and he recognized strong magic in the shaman. His bones turned to steel, forcing his body to submit to the shaman’s will.

With no choice, Duncan watched the wrinkled, frenzied shaman wrap his veiny arms around Michelle and place his palms haphazardly across her forehead. The old man’s eyes were sunken to the back of his head and only a crazed white mess peeked out of the shaman’s lids. Michelle sank into the shaman’s body and her eyes slowly lost consciousness. Duncan’s heart was a heavy stone as he watched her gaze cloud over in frantic dance and her body began to convulse.

His chest tightened as he fought against the magic holding him in place. Around them, Mexico City seemed to go on with business as usual. The shaman released Michelle just as a scream erupted from her swollen lips. The strength of the ancient magic left Duncan’s body, and he rushed to catch Michelle before she fell against the ground. He didn’t even care about the crowd witnessing his unreal speed.

“Michelle!”

The elderly shaman continued chanting as he slowly walked away from the scene, the whites of his eyes still glowing.

“Sweet one, please wake up.” Duncan laid his hand against Michelle’s damp cheek and he thanked God, or something, as her eyes slowly regained their color as the magic fled.

She came to in Duncan’s arms where he knelt on the Zocalo pavement. The passersby seemed none the wiser, focused still on the dancers. Fear and tragedy had wrung the beauty from her blue eyes, and his gut lurched in concern.

“A massacre of my people.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, and he clutched her closely against his chest. She seemed frightened still. “Can we get back on the bus?”

Without another word, he misted them to the front of an alley where he could make sure the upper deck of the bus was empty, and then transported them to the top of the bus. He sat with her against his chest, holding her.

“It’s going to rain, sweetheart.”

But she didn’t move or protest their spots. “It’s okay.”

“Will you tell me what happened, Michelle?”

By the time the three-hour long bus tour of Mexico City was over, the sun had set and heavy rain was pouring down on the city. Michelle described in gruesome detail to Duncan what occurred before her eyes after the shaman placed his hands on her.

“The creatures you’re describing are not like anything I’ve encountered before. If they’re a vampire, they are another kind, although I thought the association of vampires and bats was only a myth,” he said. “No matter, I would die before I let any creature near you.” His jaw was so set; he was on the verge of grinding all his teeth down to nothing.

“Relax. I know you would protect me. But why do you seem so convinced that evil has our number?”

Duncan thought about confessing, telling Michelle that contrary to what he had told her, he hadn’t killed that vampire. But he didn’t want Michelle to worry. He was sure the ancient vampire Tzinacan was bound to the night, and it was unlikely he could trace to them since he hadn’t yet done so. And since Duncan obviously had no intention of turning her over, he would keep her safe within his arms. She definitely would not be leaving his side, even for a split second.

That thought made him happy, even if he did deserve to be punched for thinking of her so intimately considering the circumstances.

The warm rain soaked Michelle’s lavender cardigan and she looked absolutely mouthwatering, and not just because he was hungry. Even when it started to pour, they never left the top of the double-decker bus. Instead, they sat cuddled alone, letting the warm rain soak them as they tasted each other. Their lips were wet against one another as the scenery passed by.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’d be better if you kissed me again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He dedicated himself to wiping away her bad memories induced by the shaman. His hands continued what they had begun on the place. Michelle’s body fit beneath the palms of his hands as if it had been crafted solely for his touch. His lips met hers and he relished the feel of her warmth against his cold skin. She ended the embrace too soon.

“Why are you smiling?”

He realized he was gazing at Michelle with a grin to rival the Cheshire cat’s. “I had fun today, that’s all, shaman incident excluded.”

“Me, too. I can’t wait to go to the National Museum of Anthropology. And maybe afterward we can go for a boat ride at the park across the street?”

“Anything you want.” He pressed his hands to the damp sweater covering her stomach. He gripped, wishing he could carry her away, but then he simply planted a soft gentle kiss on her lips. “We should head back to our room and get warmed up,”

He heard the raw desire in his own words. He watched her cheeks turn pink, whether from the chill or the implied intimacy, he did not know. But finally, a slow smile crept to her beautiful lips.

“That’s a good idea.”

Holding her close against his body, he took advantage of the empty upper deck, and misted them to the hotel.

“Wow, you’re not worried about anyone seeing us?”

Heat stirred within him. He shook his head, but never tore his eyes away from her. The excitement in her bright blue gaze filled him with warmth. “Not worried.”
Or didn’t care because he wanted her so bad.

He cupped her cheek and adored how it fit into his palm. He moved his lips to hers as she gripped his torso. He groaned with anticipation when she explored the muscles under his damp shirt. Their tongues met in a dance of heat as their cold, wet skin pressed against each other. He fought the urge to pick her up, toss her on the bed, and spend the night in pleasure.

Too soon.
He wanted to show Michelle how deep his feelings truly went. He would show her romance. He would show her that he could take care of her.

She would think of him first as a man, not a vampire.

The warmth of the spacious room overlooking the Alameda could not compare to the heat stirring within him. As he shut the door to the room, Michelle’s smoldering assessment stirred need within his gut. She no longer looked disturbed by the vampire. Instead, she glowed, and Duncan fought the lust urging him to go to her.