His Lost Mate (A Steamy Paranormal Romance Novel) (24 page)

“I’ll stake off a small grid around these stelae.” Lauren tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“You can’t, Lauren. There’s more to it than setting up grids. There are days or weeks of preliminary studies that need to be done. And government inspectors show up at our camp periodically to monitor our progress and make sure we have the proper permits. I’m sorry.”

“Just like that.” Lauren dropped her hands at her sides. “What if Muan is right and we’re in danger? Aren’t you even curious to see if the owl’s there?”

“Not at the expense of our project. This is a protected area—the rainforest and the ruins. It has taken years to develop a good relationship with the Guatemalan government. They guard their artifacts like a priceless historic treasure. The government has rigorous strictures as to the collection of those treasures. They have strict rules against unauthorized digs. Not only would an unauthorized dig permanently damage our reputation. They could shut us down and it’s considered a crime.” Deven’s jaw clenched.

Tears stung Lauren’s eyes, but she willed them away. Now what was she supposed to do? How was this going to affect her and Deven’s professional relationship—or their personal one? Lauren’s heart ached.

“I understand your motivations, but we will have to obtain the proper permits first. And that takes a lot of time,” Deven said.

“We could request permission to dig in that small area around the stelae,” Margaret said. “We’ll inform the government officials that we believe that particular area could yield valuable artifacts.”

“I’ll try, but I doubt they’ll agree.”

That didn’t make Lauren feel better, but what could she do? She knew Deven had to follow procedures. The fight was out of her. She didn’t want to argue anymore and she didn’t want to face Deven and his disapproving look. She thought his archaeological curiosity would sway him to her side. She was wrong.

“I’m going to go look around,” Lauren said, her voice tense. Turning away from the two stelae, she strolled around the base of the mound. She swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat, hoping she wouldn’t cry. If she thought this out logically, she’d come up with something. Digging in that spot was the only way to prove if Muan was right, otherwise, his warnings were just the ranting of a crazy ghost. What if she did find the owl carving there? What would it mean and what was she supposed to do with it? Muan felt it was an important talisman for protection—protection from what?

Last night with Deven was perfect. Their lovemaking was passionate, tender and exciting. And now, the distance between them suddenly had grown as if they stood on two separate continents, or two different planets. Did she really think he was going to believe her?

She didn’t know him all that well and shouldn’t have allowed things to move so quickly between them. Having sex last night was probably not a good plan. The two of them standing so close in the middle of the night, his body so hard and inviting and the sounds of the jungle outside the tent had been an irresistible aphrodisiac.

Was she falling in love with him, or maybe she was just lonely and horny. It would be better if she buried those thoughts, moved on and focused on her work. She should’ve known that a relationship would complicate her studies. Didn’t she learn that with her failed marriage?

As she disappeared around the mound, she kicked a golf ball-size stone and it ricocheted through the brush. High above in the trees a couple of howler monkeys shook branches and screeched at her as if she was trespassing in their territory. “Hush up, you guys. I’m not hurting anything, just looking.”

Right now she didn’t want to face Deven or Margaret. She needed space and time to think. A warm breeze blew her hair across her face and stirred the lush ferns and giant palmettos. Several flying insects buzzed around the overripe fruit in a banana tree.

She sat down on the large gnarled root of a mahogany tree. The brilliant sun heated her skin and reflected fiery sparkles in her amber ring. Her eyes blurred starring into it. The walk and machete chopping had worn her out.

Leaning against the tree, she gazed up to the top of the mound. This was about as isolated and foreboding as a place got. Why would the Maya build something out here? A wave of desperate loneliness, sadness and loss ran though her.

Was it this place or her own personal life that made her feel so sad? She was frustrated and disappointed by the argument with Deven, but it didn’t explain her overwhelming feeling of devastation and despair. The impressions reminded her of what she felt on top of the Temple of the Two-Headed Snake, when she saw the vision of a woman murdered. That same feeling of terror gripped her soul and she didn’t understand why.

Could the past memories, emotions and experiences of an ancient place leave behind nonmaterial artifacts? An ancient energy drifting around and locked to a place for eternity? Was she feeling an emotion or experience of someone from another time, tapping into the past? Whatever it was, she was convinced that something tragic and frightening had happened here.

Gray clouds propelled across the sky, blocking out the sun. The wind rustled through the trees. They swayed and creaked in a hypnotizing rhythm. As she closed her eyes, the terrifying images flooded her mind.

* * *

Deven sat on a log, covered his eyes with his hands and sighed deeply.

“Another headache?” Margaret asked.

“Yeah. How’d you guess?”

“Intuition.”

He groaned. “Why is Lauren so obsessed with this? And why didn’t she tell me sooner? I can’t believe she’d kept these experiences or hallucinations to herself all these weeks.” Realizing that Lauren didn’t trust him enough to confide in him twisted at his chest.

“She was worried on how you’d react,” Margaret answered. “Worried you’d think she was a little crazy.”

He grimaced. “There are logical explanations for everything. The heat, hard work, stress…I don’t think she’s crazy.” He was worried.

“Try to keep an open mind. Not everything can be explained scientifically.”

Deven didn’t agree, but he chose not to argue. He and Lauren shared a love for ancient history and a desire for uncovering mysteries, those mysteries dealt with facts. However, he was attracted to her enthusiasm and desire to learn. The sexual attraction between them was intoxicating, intriguing and maddening.

Wild desire coiled in his chest thinking about her body, warm and curvy and responsive last night. Her sultry words and her sensual touch broke through his barriers as if he was finally emerging from a dark tomb entangled with centuries of dusty cobwebs. And when she had whispered, “You can stay,” she had rescued and seduced him at the same time.

Deven had repeated those words over and over in his mind all day. He had thought they might have a future together, but their extreme differences about the supernatural gave him doubts. How could they find neutral ground on this subject? The integrity of the project had to come first. Lauren would have to understand and accept that. These were decisions she might have to make on future projects of her own.

“So what’s on the schedule for the rest of the week?” Margaret sat next to him. “Jim and Sylvia want to go into town later this week. If you could do without me for the day, I’d like to go along. It might be a good time for the students to complete their GPS assignment in Tikal.”

“No problem, Margaret.”

“I think you should spread the students out in various areas the park so they’ll have to work independently. That way they cannot consult with each other. Lauren is proficient with a GPS. Kyle can’t remember right from left, never mind north from south.”

He laughed. “Kyle knows how to take coordinate readings, but he’d rather con Justin into doing his work for him.”

She nodded. “My thoughts exactly. They’re both bright young men, a tad immature. Best to split them up on this assignment.”

Deven gave her a sidelong glance. “Trying to change the subject and get my mind off Lauren and her ghost?”

“Of course. Giving you time to cool off.”

He patted her hand. “I’m cooled. You do understand why I can’t allow her to dig for that owl?”

“I understand your concern for the project, but I don’t understand why you can’t believe her.” The wisdom glowing in her eyes spanned well beyond her fifty years.

“Her experiences are based on whimsical dreams, not scientific facts.”

Margaret crossed her arms and straightened her back. “What about your sister’s experience at the archaeological dig in Saratoga Springs? Do you think that Sarita was having whimsical dreams?”

Deven recalled his sister’s excited phone call to him at the university. She was working on a dig in upstate New York. The site was of an ancient Indian tribe estimated to be eight thousand years old.

Sarita said she decided to work one day while the rest of the crew took off to go into town for supplies. It was a clear, fall morning with only a slight breeze. She was working along a stream and had to stop frequently to brush away autumn leaves that had blown into her hole. As she uncovered an arrowhead she heard the sounds.

At first she thought the gurgling of the river and the breeze in the trees tricked her mind, but the sounds continued and became louder. She heard men splashing in the river apparently catching fish and the smacking noise as they tossed the fish on the shore. Then she heard children and women laughing as they scrambled to pick up the flapping fish. The older women talked in an ancient language while they cleaned the fish and hung them over a smoldering fire to smoke. Sarita couldn’t see anything. The sounds of cutting and cleaning the catch, the odor of fish and the acrid smoke created the images in her mind.

“Sarita said the site at Saratoga Springs was haunted.” And Deven had believed her. Sarita’s scientific expertise was exceptional and she was well respected in her field. His sister was not one to imagine things. Sarita was convinced that she heard ghosts, so why couldn’t he believe Lauren?

“I seem to remember she also said that archaeology has a spiritual side,” Margaret added.

“I see your point, Margaret. It doesn’t matter if I believe in the ghost or not. I can’t jeopardize my project.”

“Your project has a lot of support from the university and the Guatemalan government.”

“Sorry, I mean our project. I get very protective of El Zotz.”

“I know and you’re obsessed with proving your theory about the disappearance of the Maya.” She nodded a motherly approval. “You’ll prove your theory, I have no doubt. You could also try convincing the government officials to do a preliminary study of this site.”

Deven heaved a long sigh. “I will look into it.”

“And what about Lauren? Do you believe in her?”

“I don’t think she’s making it up, but I don’t know if she’s really seeing a ghost or if she’s overly obsessed with her work.”

“She sounds a lot like you.” Margaret grinned.

Deven looked up to the sky and laughed. “I do believe you made an interesting point. Maybe we’re getting on each other’s nerves because we are so much alike.” A sad reality hit him. This whole incident had strained their very new, uncharted relationship. He didn’t know if things would be the same. He would need to stay out of Lauren’s way and let her make the decision about whether or not to pursue their relationship.

“Looks like a storm is moving in,” Margaret said. “We should head back. We may only have a couple more hours of digging before it hits.”

High in the trees, a howler monkey screeched and shook tree branches, causing leaves and twigs to rain down next to the pyramid mound. Above the racket from the monkey, Deven heard Lauren scream.

Cimi stood at the base of a pyramid next to two stone monuments that were at least six feet tall and two feet wide. Four vertical rows of carved symbols—ancient Mayan glyphs—decorated the surface, including a carving depicting a maize god. On top of the pyramid a large fire burned, casting flickering orange shadows on the stones.

The sight frightened her. Another sacrifice would come.

Where was he? Kayab was late. The sky was turning a deep bluish gray, streaked with the crimson rays of the setting sun. They needed to leave now. Her heart pounded as panic seeped into her veins. As she bowed her head and closed her eyes, her black hair fell over her face. She prayed to the gods to bring Kayab safely to her.

Her hands formed tight fists and she realized that she still held Kayab’s gift—the jade owl. Fear seized her soul. She felt she didn’t have much time. If Kayab didn’t come soon, she would have to go back to the village. She couldn’t leave without him. She couldn’t survive alone.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as she gripped the tiny jade owl. If she took the owl back with her, the shamans would surely take it away.

Dropping to her knees between the two monuments, she placed the carving on the ground and frantically dug a hole several inches deep. She placed the owl inside then covered it with dirt. Now they couldn’t take away her treasured talisman. It would be safe. But would the stone still protect her while it was buried?

Tears dripped onto the ground, christening the earth above her buried gift.

Her vision blurred for a moment and when she blinked the tears away, she found herself standing at the base of Devil’s Pyramid. Two warriors stood on either side of her.

One of them gripped her upper arm so tightly that she thought her arm would snap. The other warrior smacked a club as thick as his arm against his palm. Veins bulged in his neck and temples. A third warrior pointed a spear at her throat as he gazed up at the top of the pyramid. Cimi’s blood turned to ice. She refused to look up there.

Where was Kayab? The panicked thought pierced her heart. Did he get away? She hoped he did, but was afraid that he would not leave without her.

The warrior dragged her toward the long steps and held the tip of his spear against her back. Slowly, she raised her gaze to the peak of the temple. Flames spewed from a bonfire at the top and black smoke coiled like an evil serpent into the sky.

Then Lauren saw the silhouette of Chac standing next to the fire and icy fingers crept up her spine. She knew it was him by his huge headdress. It radiated around his head like the sun’s deadly rays. Chac slowly descended the stone steps. Fear made her lungs turn to stone. She couldn’t breathe. Burying the owl was a mistake. When he reached the bottom, he stood over her with a wild, menacing glare in his eyes.