Read His Lost Mate (A Steamy Paranormal Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Kathy Kulig
Tags: #Paranormal romance
And she wouldn’t have to tell him about the ghost or her dreams.
She was still troubled. If Muan was a ghost, why hadn’t anyone else seen him? Originally, she assumed the hotel was haunted, now it seemed she was haunted. What did he want with her and why did he say she was in danger? If there was some threat at the camp, wouldn’t everyone be at risk?
Deven and the local authorities wouldn’t allow the members of the field project to stay at El Zotz if it was too dangerous. Besides, there were armed guards posted twenty-four hours a day, so why hadn’t the guards stopped her from wandering into the jungle last night?
Lauren dropped onto her cot and covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t deal with this now.
Reaching in her backpack, she checked for the supplies she would need for the day including two bottles of water, sunscreen, insect repellant, flashlight, trowel, bandana and notebook. She peeked outside her tent and noticed everyone was eating breakfast in the CUB. Great. Late for breakfast.
She glanced at the sky. Early morning sunlight filtered through the crowded tree trunks and twisted branches, sparkling against the rain-drenched leaves. A wall of dark gray clouds approached. It wouldn’t stay sunny for long. She ducked back into her tent and stuffed her slicker into her backpack. Hands still trembling, she retrieved the antibiotic ointment from her suitcase and dabbed the clear gel on the scratches, flinching from the sting. She changed into shorts and T-shirt, brushed her hair and made up her cot—anything to delay leaving her tent until she stopped shaking.
* * *
“What happened to you?” Deven asked as the group ambled along the dirt path to the excavation site. “How did you cut your legs?”
Lauren cringed. She should have worn long pants, but that would be uncomfortable in the heat.
Justin and Kyle glanced at Lauren, then ran ahead of the group. They seemed anxious to get to the dig. Margaret took a close look at Lauren’s legs. “You did a number on them. How did you do that?”
Her mind reeled, trying to think of a logical excuse. Telling them she took a stroll in the jungle with an ancient Mayan shaman last night was a bad idea. Deven would certainly have her on the next plane out of Santa Elena airport. “Got tangled in a thorn bush on the way to the bathhouse last night. I didn’t realize how dark it gets around here.”
Margaret gave Lauren a skeptical look.
“Take your flashlight next time.” Deven examined her legs more closely. “Those cuts look pretty bad.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks and I have some antibiotic ointment with me.” His sideways glance at her legs sent a shiver through her. This was the first time she’d seen him wearing a Panama hat. She loved how it tilted on an angle. All he needed was a whip and he could pass for Indiana Jones. Those hats seemed to be the popular style around here. Deven, Jim, the guards and most of the locals wore them, except for Kyle with his Boston Red Sox hat and Margaret with her floppy straw hat. Justin only wore sunglasses. Lauren squinted up at the stark blue sky. The clouds had moved on, hovering as a gray blanket at the horizon. It would be a warm, dusty day. That’s what she forgot—a hat. And she always prided herself on being well prepared.
The path meandered around huge ferns, trees with tangled roots, vines and delicate flowers in colors too bright to be real. Monkeys screeched and jumped from branch to branch and birds squawked and ruffled brilliant blue and green feathers. Tarzan and Jane would be quite at home here. “Damn,” she said.
Deven swung around. “What’s wrong?”
Lauren didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud. “Forgot my camera and left my phone in my suitcase.”
His smile melted her heart. “Don’t worry. You have the whole semester to take pictures. Besides, I have some incredible places to show you that you’ll want to photograph.”
If only he’d show her these places alone. He and Sylvia didn’t seem so chummy last night. Could she be wrong about them being involved?
Lauren imagined all the things she and Deven could do together in the wilds. A tingling sensation pulled inside her chest and throbbed in her most private places. Her lips parted slightly thinking about the other night and his kiss—a kiss both desperate and blazing.
What was the harm in pursuing their romantic interests? It didn’t have to be serious. Just two adults enjoying each other’s company. There was no mistaking the heated passion between them. She wanted to understand his sudden change of heart. The student and teacher relationship shouldn’t be an issue because he wasn’t giving her a grade, other than pass-fail. Once she found a moment alone with Deven, she’d explain this.
At least Sylvia was spending her day at the museum in Tikal. Still, how was Lauren going to get Deven alone? And if he and Sylvia were involved, confiding in him might put them both in an awkward position. Her simple suggestion of a casual fling could turn into a real heart-wrenching complication.
* * *
When they reached the excavation site the next day, Deven stopped and looked about in admiration. The single pyramid stood at the edge of a grassy field, surrounded by dense jungle. Several feet from the base, grid lines were staked in one-meter squares, covering most of the field. Although it was smaller than the structures at Tikal, the pyramid at El Zotz always gave him a thrill.
The mysteries of the Maya were compelling and the ruins vast. El Zotz had been his second home for the last five years, and he never tired of Guatemala. He dropped his pack and tools. “Welcome to Devil’s Pyramid,” he announced.
“Wow,” Lauren exclaimed.
The top of the pyramid reached above the treetops, over one hundred feet high and a narrow staircase rose straight to the top.
“Hey, Dr. Chandler,” Kyle said. “Can we climb up and check out the view?”
“Go on up if you like. Be careful.”
Kyle and Justin sprinted toward the top. The steps of the ruins were steep, built to accommodate small feet. The rise of each step was as high as his knee.
“When do we start digging?” Lauren asked. “I can’t wait to get my trowel in the dirt.”
“Once we check the grids, I’ll assign locations for each of you to work in. But first take a look around. You’ll be working here for the next few months.”
Deven watched Lauren hook blonde strands of hair over an ear then use her hands for balance as she climbed the pyramid.
“Be careful of the loose stones. This ruin isn’t as well preserved as the ones in Tikal. Bandits damaged the structure when they broke in,” Deven said.
Lauren glanced over her shoulder. “When was that?”
“Twenty or thirty years ago.”
He felt a heavy tug in his solar plexus as he admired her snug khaki shorts stretched over her rounded hips. The last several days in the sun had tanned her skin to a light brown. Deven couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He ached to pull her into his arms and explore her body with his mouth and his hands, still torn on how to handle the situation.
After their hot and heavy encounter the other evening, he knew she was interested too. Damn, she was so sexy. Her mouth and body were so eager. She was impossible to resist.
Besides her curvy body and expressive eyes, he also admired her intelligence and sensitivity. She noticed details in the carvings like an experienced archaeologist. He took pleasure in her awe and curiosity and sometimes she acted as though she saw more.
With the local authorities watching his project so closely, they might frown on the professor in charge having an affair with one of his students? The Guatemalan people were very reserved and could easily find some excuse to slow down the project or shut them down completely. Not only that, he couldn’t stop thinking how she quit school for her husband so he could pursue his dream, screwing Lauren out of her goals. The bastard. He’d hate to distract her because she was preoccupied with her teacher who had the hots for her.
Deven hooked his backpack over one shoulder and climbed up the steps behind Lauren and Margaret.
Sylvia’s presence also created an awkward situation. He got the impression she was attempting to rekindle an old relationship. If so, he wasn’t interested. It had ended badly the first time and he had no intentions of getting drawn into her controlling grasp and her socialite world again. But he didn’t want to hurt Sylvia by initiating a relationship with Lauren in front of her. Besides, there wasn’t much privacy in a field camp and Sylvia could be a vindictive bitch when she didn’t get what she wanted.
* * *
At the base of Devil’s Pyramid, Lauren had drawn a rough sketch in her notebook the structure’s three levels. She was not an artist like Sylvia, but it would suffice for reference. At each level, a two-meter-wide terrace formed a shelf completely around the structure. This would be a great place to sunbathe, watch sunsets or stargaze when they weren’t working.
Lauren, Deven and Margaret stopped at the highest terrace and walked around the pyramid. The rainforest spread out in all directions. In the distance, Lauren saw the roof combs of the largest pyramids in Tikal peeking through the tops of the trees.
“Quite an impressive site,” Margaret said. “We’re fortunate to have the excavation rights.”
“The upper façade has some intricate carvings. They’re badly worn, but you should be able to make out some details,” Deven said.
Lauren noticed the sparkle in his eyes. He truly enjoyed his work. “Is he a king or a god?”
“At that time the ruler and god were one in the same,” Deven explained. “This is of the ruler Yaxkin Caan Chac, from 740 AD.”
Lauren ran her hand over the carving. The stones were still cool. Although it was the end of January, the temperature was warm and by noontime, the stones would radiate the heat from the sun, unless rain hit them sooner. She examined the carving more closely. “Look at the detail of the headdress.”
“The costumes were quite ornate,” Margaret said.
“I also see a woman kneeling,” Lauren said. “Could she be his wife?”
“Possibly, but more than likely she’s a subject or victim, because this scene depicts a bloodletting, a sacrificial ritual,” Deven said.
Lauren stepped back. It was an unconscious move. A chill crept up her back and tingled at her neck.
“There is a knife or spear in his hand. And that depicts spurting blood.” He pointed to a narrow stream coming from the woman’s neck and pooling in a puddle at the ruler’s feet.
The image was very unsettling. A wave of nausea passed through her. “Pretty graphic, like a piece of history frozen in time.”
“It was a very violent period in history,” Margaret said.
Deven dropped his backpack on the stone terrace, pulled out a bottle of water and took a sip. Lauren stared at the carving. The memory of her vision on top of the pyramid at Tikal over a week ago came flooding back. She could still see the shaman thrusting a knife into that woman’s chest. The muscles in her neck and back stiffened. She brought her fists up to her chest and tried to steady her breathing. Her heart thumped rapidly.
Casually, she sat down, crossed her legs, got out her water bottle and took a long drink. She tried to push the images out of her mind.
“My theory about how the Mayan civilization disappeared is based on the violence,” Deven said. “There’s evidence that the rulers sacrificed thousands in only a few days. Whether a drought killed most of their crops or disease swept the city, I think the ruler ordered thousands of deaths to appease the gods as well as decrease the population for the limited food available. Once the people saw this happening, many fled the city and established settlements in other areas. This is what I’m trying to prove.”
“Interesting,” Lauren said, her voice still shaky. “Have you found any data to support your theory?”
“Some. The ruins at El Zotz were built around the same time as the large Temple of the Two-Headed Snake. That’s the pyramid you passed out on. Tikal is about several hours away by foot and studies indicate the same king ruled both sites. Yaxkin Caan Chac may have attempted to compensate for the swelling population and built another settlement. It’s hard to maintain control over two areas a seven-hour walk apart, so if conflicts started, the ruler may have decided to use a more drastic method to maintain his power—genocide.”
“A frightening thought,” Lauren said.
“Other archaeologists and historians think war or disease annihilated most of the population. Nothing has been proven yet,” Margaret added.
“Better start down. We have a lot of work to do today.”
After they reached the bottom, Lauren reviewed her notes for the excavation schedule.
“The grid lines set up last semester are still in place and the excavation site showed no signs of looters,” Deven said as he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He stood at the center point and took readings from his palm-size global positioning system and recorded map coordinates in a notebook.
Margaret helped him move a few stakes to reposition the grid squares, but for the most part the integrity of the site was intact.
For several hours, Lauren hunched over her square of hard-packed earth, digging with her trowel and sifting dirt in metal screened boxes, searching for small bits of pottery, bone, precious or semi-precious stones. Each item found was catalogued as to the grid location where it was discovered and placed in a labeled plastic bag for study or testing at a later date. Larger artifacts unearthed would be photographed within the grid before removal. The meticulous techniques were vital for accurate interpretation.
As the sun rose higher, the sultry heat from the jungle and the radiated warmth from the stone temple made the air hot and humid. Deven’s shirt clung to his damp back and chest and she wished he would take it off. The sun was intense in the jungle and although he probably tanned easily, a few hours’ exposure would burn anyone.
Deven squinted and then pressed the area between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He looked in pain.
“When do we get to break into the pyramid, Dr. Chandler?” Kyle asked.
“You don’t. It’s already been opened, the artifacts retrieved and the entrance sealed again.”