His Lost Mate (A Steamy Paranormal Romance Novel) (17 page)

Although he’d welcomed the opportunity to study sites in New Mexico or upstate New York, his first love was the Mayan ruins. The pyramids had captured his fascination and curiosity and he was compelled to return every chance he could get. Margaret had said his soul was linked to the ruins of the jungle. He didn’t exactly know what she meant, and he didn’t believe in her metaphysical convictions, but he had to admit he was drawn to this place more than any other dig.

If he pursued a relationship with Lauren, what would happen when the semester was over? She’d go back to New Jersey and he’d return to Boston. Was he up for a brief affair and all the complications that came along? He knew how hard it was to maintain a relationship when he traveled so much.

Having Sylvia around wasn’t helping. Living in the close quarters of the camp, there wasn’t much privacy. He didn’t want to hurt Sylvia and he didn’t want to stir her temper. When Sylvia wasn’t happy, the world around her also suffered. He also shouldn’t start something with Lauren only to say goodbye at the end of the semester. He felt a deep tug in his chest at the thought of not seeing her again.

When Sylvia returned to the table with more coffee, she asked, “So what are we going to do about those artifacts? It could be several weeks before customs decides to release them into my custody.”

Her gaze searched his face. He knew she had other things on her mind besides artifacts. “I’ll ask Jim if he has any suggestions. He has connections. Maybe he knows someone who can help.” He kept his voice even and professional. “Any other problems at the museum in Tikal?”

“No problems, only some interesting information. The archaeology project a mile south of Temple of the Two-Headed Snake recently found an ancient mass grave. They estimate at least a thousand bodies.”

“Good God. That is quite a find. Haven’t heard of anything like that in this area. I’ll have to check it out. There was one in central Mexico. Twenty thousand people were sacrificed in a single ceremony to commemorate the completion of a new temple.”

“Brutal but fascinating. Would you like more coffee, Deven?” Her tone quickly changed to sweet and submissive. One of her manipulating techniques.

“No thanks. Did they mention if the bodies were men, women or children?”

She pursed her lips and thought a moment. “They didn’t say. What difference would that make?”

“Just a hypothesis I’m working on. This find could help support it. I’ll have to ride over there and check it out.”

“What’s your theory?”

“The reason why the Mayan civilization suddenly disappeared around 900 AD. I plan to prove that several years of drought upset the ecosystem of the rainforest, nearly wiping out the Mayan’s main food source—maize. The ruler, out of desperation, chose to drastically decrease the population of his kingdom. Since he needed the protection of his warriors from the threat of local tribes and his shamans to perform the ceremonies to the gods, the ruler ordered the sacrifice of hundreds, probably thousands of women and children over a short period of time to prevent the rest of his kingdom from starving. Maybe only over a few days or weeks. When the rain god was appeased and the rains returned, the ruler could repopulate his kingdom with his wives.”

“Quite a blood bath. It’s feasible, considering the violent and desperate times. I’m sure you’ll prove your theory, Deven. If I can help, let me know.” She smiled sweetly and touched his arm.

“Thanks, Sylvia.” She was being awfully agreeable, but he still didn’t trust her.

“Will they allow you on their site? Archaeologists can be very possessive about their discoveries.”

“I know the archaeologists running that excavation. They’re from the University of Central Florida. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind sharing some information. Finds like these will be quickly publicized internationally anyway.”

“There could be several reasons for that mass grave—plague, war, sacrifice, natural disaster or mass suicide.” Sylvia swung her legs out from under the table and bent over to retie her hiking boots. While she continued to talk, Deven couldn’t help noticing her shirt sag open as she bent over, exposing bare breasts.

He quickly averted his eyes. If he didn’t know better…hell, he did know better and he did know Sylvia. It wouldn’t surprise him if she set him up for a flashing. He played dumb and continued talking. “While the students are working on a project in Tikal, I’ll drop by the grave site and see what I can find out.”

She sat up with a pleased grin. “Let me know what you discover.”

Deven checked his watch and saw it was three p.m. “I need to get back to the dig and get a few more hours of work in.” He stood and walked toward the door.

Outside, Deven heard shouts. Justin and Kyle raced toward the camp. Too early for the crew to stop the dig for the day. His students wouldn’t have run back to camp just because they found an interesting find. By the panicked look on their faces, something was wrong. Deven bolted out the door and slammed the screen door against its frame.

“What do we do, Margaret?”

A rush of adrenaline pulsed through Lauren’s veins.

“Don’t run, stay calm,” Margaret whispered. With the three men only a few feet away, Lauren doubted she’d get very far.

The men were only around five feet tall, but their height didn’t make them less threatening. The other two men stood behind the one with the machete, each gripping bows and arrows.

Slowly stepping backward, Lauren held her breath, half expecting one of the men to grab them or slice their throats. Panic raced through her mind. Was she going to be murdered today in the jungle? How long would it take for anyone to find them?
Stop it
. They weren’t dead yet. She slowly exhaled and tried to stay calm.

The men spoke a few words in a language that she could not decipher. It wasn’t Spanish. She never heard anything like it.

Margaret stepped in front of her, conversed with the men, stumbling over a few unfamiliar words. The men looked at each other, then the one with the machete said, “Jim Lucas, here?”

“Jim Lucas? Oh yes, he’s here,” Margaret said, nodding, then pointed in the direction of the camp. She said a few more words that sounded like Chinese.

The man responded and Margaret nodded and raised her hand in a friendly gesture. The men turned around and disappeared into the jungle.

“Oh my God. Who were they? I thought they were going to kill us,” Lauren whispered.

“They’re Lacandon Indians.”

“What are they doing here?”

“A few scattered clans of the Lacandon still live in the unoccupied areas of the jungle. Inspiring people. They’re descendants from the ancient Maya and live in complete harmony with nature. They’re self-sufficient, though they do trade with locals.”

“God, I took one look at that machete and…”

Margaret laughed. “The Lacandon are peaceful and spiritual people, but they don’t like uninvited visitors.”

“Were we trespassing?”

“No, their settlement is a few miles from here. They’re very aware of the activity in the jungle. They must have found out that we were back at the field camp. Jim has been bartering with them for years, even before the excavation at El Zotz.”

“The jungle is full of surprises,” Lauren said, her voice still shaky.

Margaret turned around and hurried in the direction of Devil’s Pyramid. “Come on, we should head back to the dig. I can show you the other ruins tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Jim or Deven about the Lacandons?”

“Jim isn’t due back until later this afternoon. I’ll tell him and Deven about our visitors when we get back to camp. I think the Lacandons said they want to meet Jim at this spot tomorrow. They have some goods to sell.”

Lauren had to jog to keep up with Margaret. Her gaze swept from side to side and she peered deep into the woods, looking for the men in case they decided to come back. “What kind of goods?”

“They grow a variety of crops for food, fibrous plants and sisal to make rope and cloth.”

Lauren nodded. “Most of what I heard didn’t sound like Spanish. I did hear them say
diablos de la selva
, devils of the forest. What did they mean?”

“Their language is based on the ancient Mayan language with a little Spanish mixed in. I only know a few words.” Margaret sighed and stared up into the trees as they walked. “
Diablos de la selva
. I don’t know what they were referring to. Maybe they’re nervous about us waking up the ghosts in the ruins.”

A chill shuddered through Lauren down to her bones. Did they also see the ghost of the shaman, Muan, like she had? The words “devils of the forest” sounded ominous. Muan didn’t seem so ominous. Had the crew disturbed them by digging in the ruins?

When Lauren and Margaret reached the dig at Devil’s Pyramid, Justin and Kyle were hard at work digging.

“Where did you guys go?” Kyle asked while shoveling a pile of dirt away from the grid lines. “Leaving us here alone to do all the work?”

“We took a walk while you two were catching a snooze. We weren’t gone that long.” Lauren told them about their unexpected meeting with the Lacandon Indians.

“Margaret, will Jim let us go to their village and meet them?” Kyle asked.

“You’ll have to ask him. The Lacandons are a private people. It took him years to gain their trust.”

“I plan to teach archaeology at a university someday,” Kyle said. “What a story I’d have if I could tell my students I met direct living descendants of the ancient Maya.”

For the next couple of hours, Lauren focused on another pottery fragment in her grid. She worked on it all day and was determined to free it from the packed dirt before she quit for the day. Her heart still pounded from the meeting with the Lacandons.

When would she learn not to jump at every stranger? She was the stranger in this land. Everyone looked different to her. After all, she hardly gave the guards lugging rifles a second glance anymore.

The sun drifted behind hazy gray clouds and a light mist turned the dry dirt into dun-colored clay, slowing their work. Ignoring her muddy hands, Lauren focused on gently removing the dirt around her piece of pottery and hadn’t noticed the misty rain soaking her hair and clothes. By the time she realized she was wet, she decided it was too late to bother with her slicker. She was already dirty, no sense getting her clean jacket full of mud too.

What happened to Deven? She was surprised he didn’t return even if his headache still bothered him.

While Justin and Margaret organized collection bags at one side of the dig, Kyle walked over to a pile of rocks near the base of the pyramid, sat down and pulled a candy bar out of his backpack. He threw his pack on the ground and suddenly Lauren heard the distinct rattling sound of an angry rattlesnake.

She bolted to her feet and spied the coiled snake less than a meter from Kyle’s feet.

“Help,” Kyle whispered.

“Whoa, don’t move, dude,” Justin yelled.

“Do something. He’s going to bite me. I hate snakes.”

Lauren picked up a shovel and slowly crept toward Kyle.

Kyle shook his head and mouthed the word, “Don’t.”

“Lauren, be careful,” Margaret said. “Nobody make any sudden moves.”

Justin agreed.

Kyle bent his knees, ready to leap out of the way, his eyes huge. Glancing from the snake to Lauren and back to the snake again, he shook his head and said, “Lauren, no.”

Lauren took a few more steps and stopped. She slowly raised the shovel high above her head. The snake must have seen the movement, because it suddenly turned and slithered toward her, its angry rattle whipping behind. She swung the shovel and sliced the snake in two.

Justin let out a whoop of celebration. Kyle stood with his hands on his head.

“I thought you were afraid of crawly things like tarantulas,” Kyle said.

“It’s only a snake. We have copperheads around the lakes where I used to go fishing. I’ve killed them before. But they don’t have spiders the size of dinner plates in New Jersey.” Lauren continued starring at the rattlesnake, remembering Muan’s words. “Nature will strike out in fear.” Was this what he meant?

“Well, I owe you one,” Kyle said, sighing in relief and wiping the sweat from his brow.

Margaret approached them. “I think it’s time we call it a day. Pack up. It’s starting to rain harder. We accomplished a decent amount today.”

“I’d like to work a little longer on this piece of pottery. I want to make sure there’s enough drainage so water doesn’t run under the tarp and cover it with mud.”

“Okay, don’t be long.”

Margaret and Justin dragged plastic tarps over the working areas to protect them from rain. Kyle tossed digging tools into a muddy duffle and slung it over his shoulder, then picked up a crate full of collection bags containing artifacts.

“Come on back with us, Lauren, you can work on that piece tomorrow,” Kyle said. “Want me to search your tent for tarantulas?”

“I can do that, but if I find any uninvited guests I’ll call you.”

“I’d like to treat you to dinner or buy you a beer. Next trip into town let me take you out.”

“That’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

Kyle’s expression turned solemn. “Is it because you have a thing for Dr. Chandler?”

“What are you talking about?” Lauren was shocked. She and Deven hadn’t been outwardly affectionate, except by the lake a few days ago and no one saw them.

“Just by the way the two of you look at each other. I’d understand if you do. He’s a cool guy. Let me know if things don’t work out.”

“I think you’re imagining things, Kyle.” She forced a smile and tried to sound casual. Was he hitting on her, Lauren wondered? Kyle was a nice guy but too young.

“I’m usually pretty observant.”

“Can you guys run back to camp and see if Jim has returned yet? If so, send him up. I want to show him where I saw the Lacandons. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“Sure, Margaret. Got to tell Jim and Dr. Chandler about the snake too,” Kyle said as he winked at Lauren. “See you back at camp. Don’t wait until it gets dark. Hey, since I can’t buy you a beer, Lauren, I can roast you a marshmallow or two tonight.”