His Lost Mate (A Steamy Paranormal Romance Novel) (23 page)

Feathery ferns and palmettos camouflaged the path and seemed to have grown thicker overnight since Lauren and Margaret last attempted to visit the unexcavated site and a twisted network of vines draped from tree branches made the passage difficult.

Lauren admired Deven’s skill as he hacked his way through the vegetation with his machete. The cut leaves and vines fell and blanketed the trail. Lauren and Margaret followed behind, giving him plenty of room to swing.

With his machete in hand and his Panama hat tilted just so, Lauren thought Deven could pass for Indiana Jones’ double. She smiled to herself. If he exuded the same macho image when he taught his classes at the university, how did the women keep their hands off him? She was glad she had never taken his class at Boston, because her grades would’ve suffered. His charismatic sensuality was too distracting.

“We should have borrowed Deven’s machete yesterday,” Margaret said.

Lauren shook her head. “No thanks. I’d have probably chopped off my knees.”

“You’d get the hang of it. Want to try?” Deven asked over his shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” Lauren said.

“Here, I’ll show you.” He stopped and flipped the machete in his hand, making Lauren duck in reflex. “It’s not hard. Trust me.” The soft, sensual tone to his voice made her pulse race. He held the handle out to her. “Take it.”

Lauren gripped the handle, holding the machete far away from her body. “Okay, now what do I do?”

Deven stood close to her and placed his hand over hers. “Keep your wrist parallel to the cut and always cut on an angle.” With his other hand, he gripped her shoulder. “Let your shoulder come down and lead with your elbow, then flick your wrist. Chop with downward strokes on woody branches and use an upward stroke at the finer herbaceous growth.” He helped her swing the knife and chopped a few times. “Keep the machete out in front of you, slashing on either side of your path.”

Lauren sliced the heavy blade through vines, giant leaves and ferns with little effort. She noticed a sheen of perspiration on his arms and forehead. Standing this close to him was unnerving. Mixed with the scent of green vegetation and damp earth was his musky scent and a slight whiff of sweat, which reminded her of their lovemaking the night before.

“Let the weight of the machete do the work.” He released her hand and stood back. “You try it by yourself. Take your time.”

Lauren chopped at the growth hanging down, blocking the path. Before long, she had a rhythm to her swing, but her shoulder began to ache.

“When you get tired, I can take over,” he said.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” This was like exploring the wilds of the Amazon, searching for buried treasure. She smiled at herself. This trip wasn’t that far off. She was exploring a rainforest and archaeology was like digging for buried treasure.

Choosing this field as a career was an excellent decision, considering her other bad decisions, like marrying Tom and postponing college. Soon she’d be on her own, working and making a living. If only Tom could see her now.

As she continued to swing the machete, her breathing became labored and beads of sweat dripped down her face. “How much farther?” She tried not to sound out of breath.

“We’re almost there,” Margaret said.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take over?” Deven asked.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder and saw him smiling. Amusement shone in his eyes. He looked like he enjoyed watching her wield a machete.

“I can make it, as long as I don’t have to climb over that hill.” Lauren pointed at the end of the trail.

“That’s not a hill, Lauren,” Margaret said.

“That’s a pyramid. An unexcavated mound,” Deven said.

Lauren let out a whistle. About three or four stories high, the hill was covered by full-grown trees, ferns and grass. “Amazing, I didn’t know these mounds were so well hidden. I could walk right over it and never know.” She rested the machete against a tree and searched the ground for protruding stone blocks. A maze of roots crisscrossed the ground between the trees. There was no sign of a manmade structure. “It’s completely covered by the jungle.”

“After many centuries, the rainforest reclaimed it,” Margaret said.

Lauren stared up at the pyramid in disguise. “Now I understand why it takes so long to complete an excavation project.”

“Hard work, time and money,” he explained.

“Are there any more unexcavated pyramids like this around?”

“Dozens,” Margaret answered. “Many are documented on maps. There are probably many more not yet discovered.”

Deven strolled around the periphery of the pyramid. “Come take a look over here. These stelae are fairly well-preserved.”

Lauren approached the stelae and examined the carvings. One stela depicted an image of a king or a god with feathery headdress, a small round shield hung from one arm and the other hand gripped a spear. Adornments encircled the wrists and ankles. Age and weather had worn the fine detailed carvings.

“It looks familiar. Didn’t I see one like this in Tikal?” Lauren asked.

“I don’t think there is one like this in Tikal,” Deven said.

“When do you think these were made?” Lauren ran her hand over the carvings, then dropped her backpack on the ground and pulled out her camera.

“I believe they date back to around 700 to 800 AD,” Deven said. “We haven’t received permission to begin excavation of this sight yet. It’s small and would probably yield few artifacts. It is close to the other site and could have some connection historically.”

Lauren stood back and snapped some pictures. “I’ll have a ton of photos to document when I get home.”

“You’ll want to take a few snapshots of the other stela,” Margaret said. “I think you’ll find that one most fascinating. I’d like your impression.”

The two standing stones were about ten feet apart. Lauren walked a few steps to the other stela. An intricate carving of a squared face was located at the top. An ear of corn was positioned on either side next to the human ears with large hoop earrings. “The maize god,” Lauren stated. “This stela is well pre…”

She froze.

Below the maize god were four vertical rows of glyphs—just like the one that Muan had showed her. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

“What is it, Lauren?” Margaret asked.

“This is it, Margaret. This is the stela that Muan showed me the other night.”

“Who? You were here before? Who’s Muan?” Deven’s voice rose. He stood as solid as the upright stones, his arms crossed over his chest.

Lauren ignored his questions, stunned by the possibilities swimming through her head. “Margaret, this is where Muan said the jade owl is buried.”

“I thought so,” Margaret said. “When you described your dream to me, I remembered this stela.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “When were you here?”

Margaret laughed. “Good question. Apparently, she’s been here in spirit, not in body.”

“More of your metaphysical theories?” he sounded skeptical.

“Lauren, I think it’s time you told Deven about your experiences. He needs to be aware of what’s been happening to you, dear.”

Deven’s gray eyes studied Lauren. He pulled off his hat and wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. A deep frown creased his brow.

She swallowed hard and then asked him. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He grinned then frowned. “No. I’ve never seen one.”

“Well actually, you have seen one. Last night. Your intruder was a ghost. He’s a Mayan shaman called Muan.”

He blinked and Lauren noticed him glance at Margaret, probably seeking support to refute Lauren’s claim. Then Lauren saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not funny. I’m serious. You saw how he was dressed, wearing an ancient headdress, primitive clothes and carrying a spear—certainly not something you’d expect an antiquity thief to wear.”

“It could have been one of the Lacandon wearing ceremonial clothing for an event or celebration.”

“Jim doesn’t think so,” Margaret added. “Lauren has seen this ghost several times.”

“Have you seen him?” he asked Margaret.

“No, I hope to and I believe her.”

“So Muan is the name of this ghost?” Deven didn’t sound convinced.

Lauren nodded. “Does the name mean anything to you?”

“Not that I know of. The Maya recorded the names of their kings and their gods, not their shaman’s names.”

“I also know the name of a young woman who was his daughter—Cimi. The shaman and the warrior, Kayab, both call me Cimi. Margaret thinks I may have had a past life here.” Lauren wanted to kick herself. He didn’t believe in ghosts and now she was hitting him with a past life theory. She clenched her jaw. She saw where this conversation was going.

“A warrior? There’s another ghost?” Deven smiled like he was playing along with a joke.

“Only one ghost. Kayab’s the warrior I’ve only seen in dreams.” Lauren noticed his smile quickly fade. She knew how crazy it sounded and now she feared she said too much.

“So you’ve been here, at this site, at night?” he frowned.

“I don’t know if I was really here or if it was in a dream. It’s pretty foggy.”

“It is possible that she astral projected to this place,” Margaret added.

Lauren gave her a wary look that said, don’t push it. Deven stared at Margaret, but didn’t comment on her theory, then he turned to Lauren. His eyes softened but his jaw tightened.

“This isn’t good, Lauren. Do you realize there are cenotes throughout the jungle? It’s very dangerous walking off the trails, especially at night,” he said.

Lauren cringed at the thought. He had a point. The image of finding herself falling into a deep natural well like a human sacrifice was terrifying.

Margaret nodded. “That is worrisome. Deven is right. It’s dangerous wandering around the jungle. You need to tell Muan not to take you on any midnight strolls.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Lauren. “Why are you the only one who’s seen this ghost?”

“I’m not. You saw him last night.”

“So you said.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts. There must be some other explanation.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but try to accept it as a theory—one that’s difficult to prove.” Especially to a scientist who balks at the supernatural. She felt the anger rise inside her like a geyser ready to shoot its fountain of hot steam.

Deven gave a heavy sigh. “What does this ghost want? What’s his connection to this site?”

“I’m not sure, but Muan tells me that a jade owl is buried at the base of this stela and I have to dig it up.” Lauren stared at the earth below the stela. “Margaret, do you believe that the owl is buried here?”

“It’s possible, dear, but there are hundreds of stelae around the ruins. Some look very similar to this one.”

“These look like the ones in my dream. There were four rows of glyphs on each structure and a maize god carving on one and not the other. No other pair of stelae could look like these.” She dug her trowel out of her backpack. “Only one way to find out…”

“Hold on,” Deven said. “We don’t have permission to dig here. You can’t go digging without marking off the site, taking GPS readings and staking gridlines.”

“Can we get permission?” Lauren said.

“There’re no plans to dig at this site for several years,” Deven said.

“Years?” Lauren shook her head. “But he says I’m in danger and the crew may also be in danger if I don’t uncover the owl. He says the owl is an ancient talisman, one that my lover, Kayab, gave me in a previous life.”

“First a ghost and now reincarnation? That’s a lot to swallow, Lauren.” His expression was incredulous. “We have guards protecting our project. No one is in danger here. What kind of danger is he talking about?”

“I don’t know. Muan mentioned the devils of the forest. I’m not sure what he means.”

“The Lacandon said something about ‘devils of the forest’ yesterday when Lauren and I ran into them,” Margaret added.

Deven gave Margaret a stern look. “Superstitions. The Lacandon believe in nature spirits, demigods and who knows what else—maybe elves and fairies too.” The muscles in his jaw twitched.

A dense silence moved around them like fog rolling in off an ocean. Lauren saw the frustration in his eyes. He always seemed so easygoing, but he’s a scientist to the core and when it comes to his project, El Zotz takes top priority.

“Suppose it’s true? Shouldn’t I uncover the owl just in case?”

Deven took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Let me see if I’ve got this. You were given this owl in a past life for protection. Did it protect you then?”

“No, I think I was murdered in a sacrificial ritual, but that’s because I buried the owl. During that time a woman couldn’t own jade, only men. The owl has no power if it is buried.”

“And how do you know this?”

“From my dreams and what Muan has told me.” As soon as she said it, she realized how lame it sounded.

“I think you’ve been studying ancient Mayan history so hard, it has affected your dreams,” Deven said. “I know how much graduating this year means to you. Maybe you’re overdoing it.”

God, he was dense. He can’t see beyond his scientific explanations. She pulled out a bottle of water and drained it. She had thought she was close to solving the mystery behind her dreams and Muan’s visits, but instead she had ventured further into the maze with no clue on how to find the exit. Now he thought she was overstressed and imagining all this.

“Deven, remember that day in Tikal, when Lauren fainted?”

He nodded.

Margaret continued. “She had an unusual experience, probably a vision. She described clearly and in great detail a woman being brutally sacrificed. I believe she has some connection to this place. I know your beliefs rely on scientific proof. Try to look at this as a proposed theory like Lauren said.”

Deven sighed and bowed his head. “All right, so what would you like me to do?”

Lauren pointed to the stela. “Let me dig here and see if I find a jade owl. I’ll use proper techniques and documentation.”

Deven shook his head. “That I can’t do. We have to receive permission.”