The Bloodgate Warrior (5 page)

Water. Of course. Hope surged, sending my pulse thumping frantically, but I made myself breathe slowly and deeply. I didn’t want to have another bathtub incident. “They thought these offerings would pass to the underworld?”

Candles cast a warm flickering glow across the jagged walls, reflected off a pool of water. José’s eyes gleamed like that pool, so full of hope and awe. I would feel terrible if I disappointed him. How many Guatemalans still hoped that the great warrior would someday return? “Yes.”

“Through a…” I hesitated to say the word for fear it was some secret I shouldn’t divulge.

His eyes flickered briefly to Natalie but then back to me. “Our word is
ol
, a portal or gate.”

I let out a slow sigh, unaware that I’d even been holding my breath. “Okay. This is it, then.”

Natalie gripped my hand so tightly I couldn’t feel my fingers. “What are you going to do?”

Edging closer to the water, I tried to estimate the depth of the pool. I so did not want to be in water. Especially water that might be over my head.
I don’t think I can do it. Even for Técun.

What if it really was some kind of bottomless gate?

I couldn’t suppress a shudder.

“Cass, answer me. I need to know what you’re going to do. Is it safe? Is there anything I can do to help?”

My knees were shaking. “How deep is the water?”

“I don’t know. I doubt anyone has been brave enough to find out.”

Not if the pool leads to the underworld. I wonder what kinds of demons their hell contains.

I stared down at the water, straining to see the bottom, any rock or glimmer that would give me a clue to its depth. Inky blackness swirled, a vague roll that made me queasy. “I don’t want to get wet unless I have no other choice.”

My voice rang in my ears hollowly, as though I spoke from a great distance. My head felt like a bubble, filling tighter and fuller with pressure. Natalie mumbled something in a blur, as though someone played an old tape recorder in slow motion.
No.
Like I’m already underwater.

The swirling pool called, eager to suck me down and drown me again.

Desperately, I threw myself to the side and crashed against the rough wall. I grabbed at the jagged surface, trying to keep my balance. Pain burned across my palm. Numbly, I stared down at the cut welling with blood. I forced my head to turn so I could focus on my friend. Eyes wild, she ran toward me, her mouth open, yelling, I’m sure, but I couldn’t hear her.

I held my hand out over the water.
Técun. Come to me as you promised.

The ground rocked beneath my feet. Terror clawed at my throat. Earthquake? I didn’t want to get trapped down here in the darkness with water that wanted to swallow me. It reached for me, a black hand of wet, chilling death.

Rocks tumbled from the ceiling of the cave. Natalie screamed, a long, drawn-out sound that echoed and rolled through the waves of water closing over my head.

Chapter Four

He rose up out of the pool with a massive surge, like a dolphin powering toward the surface. Water streamed and plumed around him frantically, celebrating his arrival. I don’t know how deep the water had been through the gate, but he stood in the pool before me, and now, the water only reached his knees.

Leaving him magnificently nude.

Head back, shoulders broad and square in that warrior stance that they’d managed to capture in his statue, Técun closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his hands fisted at his side. His nostrils flared wide and his head slowly turned toward me.

I huddled against the wall in a dark corner of the cave, wedged tightly against damp stone, as far away from the water as I could get without charging back toward the exit. I scanned the tunnel, but Natalie and José were gone. So were the candles. I could still see Técun, though, and it took me a moment to realize the light came from him and the pool of water.

Warm green light illuminated his sharp features and highlighted every sinewy muscle. Water sloshed, warning me that he was moving, headed straight toward me. With three powerful strides he reached me. He stared down at me in silence, his eyes glittering in the darkness.

I had the crazy feeling that he’d forgotten every sweaty, glorious dream. Maybe he was angry that I’d hauled him away from his paradise on the other side. He’d died here. His people had ended up slaughtered and tortured, broken until little remained of the once great nation that had built incredible cities throughout Central America long before New York or Boston had been more than a vast forest.

Had I pulled him through the gate only to watch him die in a horrific way again?

“It matters not,” he said in a soft, gentle voice that made me want to cry. “This world’s need will always be great. Some danger will always threaten to destroy it all. I came for
you
. If I die again and remain locked away for another thousand years, so be it.”

I pushed upward, using the rock at my back to find my feet. I was still a good foot shorter than him. “I don’t want you to die again.”

“I can’t die, not really. Not like you think. Even if I slip into Xibalba I will traverse the White Road until I reach the other side once more. When I die here, I will eventually return to my pyramid and await the call once more.”

I narrowed my eyes, my chin inching upward. “So you’ve come through the gate many times before?”
For other women?

His chuckle rumbled through the cave, echoing like thunder. “Before Alvarado, I lived many lives on this earth. For a thousand years and more I touched the people of this land as Great Feathered Serpent. Are you jealous of women dead and gone a thousand years or more?”

“Maybe.”
Definitely.

“Then perhaps I should show you once more how much I enjoy conquering
you
.”

My knees quivered enough that I was thankful for the wall against my back. I fought to keep my face smooth and my breathing even. “I’m not a war prize nor in need of rescue.
I
brought
you
through the gate, remember?”

“I remember more than you can possibly imagine,” he whispered, reaching out to cup my chin in his hand. He could have palmed my entire head with that big hand, but his fingers were nothing but tender on my face. “You are my salvation, Cassandra Gonzales, bringer of light to my empty life, the only woman who dared brave the gates of Xibalba to free me.”

The stroke of his fingers loosed the knot of doubt and fear twisting inside me. I’d done it. He was here, he was real, alive, breathing, his mouth hot, the same sweet familiar taste, his shining hair, braided with quetzal feathers.

He lifted me higher against the rock, effortlessly pinning me for his attack. I met him open—mouth, arms, thighs. I couldn’t get him inside me fast enough, deep enough, hard enough. Rock dug into my back but I didn’t care.

“This time, you’re here. You won’t disappear again.”
Will you?
I couldn’t hide the quiver in my voice, even if I didn’t admit my fears.

“I walk your earth again, though I may not appear with you yet.”

I slammed my fists down on his shoulders, tears burning my eyes. “You said you’d come to me with all haste. I don’t want to lose you again!”

“Patience, Cassandra.” He purred my name, grinding against me. “Would your human friends care to see this?”

Pinned between rock and his warrior body, I whimpered. Need spiraled higher, but so did my frustration. I didn’t want to wake up with all that self-doubt again. Maybe I was as crazy as my mother. Maybe Natalie was right and we should just sit back and enjoy a nice long vacation without a single Post-it note detailing which days we should tour all the famous sites in hope I’d find some clue of my dream warrior’s whereabouts.

I dug my fingers into his back, fighting the climax rising within me. He’d leave, then. I’d awake from the dream, still quaking from release, but bereft, my arms empty.

He nuzzled my neck, pushing my head back to bare my throat and shoulder. His teeth grazed my skin and every muscle in my body winched tighter. “Allow me to give you a sign. Let me brand your flesh in a way that will make you remember my arrival. My arms. My love. Carry my mark in your flesh until I make my way to your side.”

Teasing me, he nipped and nibbled, driving me insane. It finally dawned on me that he truly was waiting for my permission.

I wrapped my hands in his hair and jerked his head back so I could see his eyes. “How will I recognize you?”

Eyes heavy lidded, he whispered in that bone-shaking rumble of menace that curled my toes. “You will look at me and not be able to breathe. You will remember my taste and your body will fountain with desire at the memory of me inside you. If you allow me to mark you with my teeth, your skin will catch fire at the sight of me. You will carry my magic within you. You will always know me, in whichever age and world we meet. We will forever be drawn to find each other, whether on earth, my world or even Xibalba. If you give me a taste of your blood, not even my death or a locked gate will ever keep me from you again.”

The thought of his teeth digging into me made me tighten around him so hard that he thudded inside me, nearly setting off the threatening climax. Desperately, I tried to control it, to deny the welling pleasure beginning to swell.

“You must give me permission aloud,” he rasped out, his shoulders corded as he strained to control himself. “I’ll never take what you don’t willingly give.”

“Yes!” The word wrenched out of me as my spine bowed with the strength of my release.

He surged deeper. With a low growl, he bit me, his teeth closing on the ridged muscle that ran across my shoulder.

I cried out, twisting my hands deeper into his hair, holding on for dear life. It felt like a bolt of lightning struck me. Hairs rose on my arms, my limbs convulsed and my blood sizzled in my veins. Heat poured into me, a blazing ball of fire that seared my flesh and licked the darkest, deepest corners of my mind.

The quetzal screeched, but this time it was inside my head. Wings thundered in the air around us as though a massive flock of birds clamored in flight. Feathers brushed my skin, his magic thick in the air, setting my lungs on fire. He glowed brightly. The air smelled green, as green as Guatemala, fresh and full of life.

Power licked my skin, soaking into my pores, and I felt changed deep inside. Like I could soar up to the stars, dive toward the cloud canopy, leap the mountains with a single bound or shake the ground with my strength until the volcanoes groaned and spluttered with ash.

Such power. No wonder they’d thought him a god.

Pulse after pulse blazed into me, obliterating my thoughts. I sank into him, not just into his embrace but also his psyche, as though nothing could ever separate our minds and hearts again. His magic dimmed to a warm, soft glow that curled inside me, a candle instead of the blazing sun from a few moments ago.

The fierce grip on my shoulder eased. He swiped his tongue over my skin, a low rumbling purr rolling from his chest. “So sweet. You’ve given me such power, Cassie. I shall be well prepared for whatever darkness awaits me on this side of the gate.”

Worry stirred my lethargic limbs to action. I didn’t want him to be in danger, let alone die again.

He sighed, his arms tightening about me. “There’s always great danger whenever I return to your earth. A purpose awaits me. The way is open, thanks to you, but I must make preparations. I’ll join you as quickly as possible. Beware until I’m at your side. You reek of my magic to anyone who can sense it.”

Darkness tried to claim me. I fought that slow slide to loneliness, even though it was a losing battle. Anguished, I cried out, straining to stay with him.

“Remember,”
his voice echoed inside my head like thunder.
“I come again as called, but this time I come for you.”

Chapter Five

1581 by Leonor de Alvarado y Xiotenega Tecubalsi
Translated by Carla Guzmán Gonzales, 1970

After all these years, I’ve finally accepted that I shall not be the one to call the great warrior back for his appointed battle. That honor belongs to some future daughter of our Tecubalsi line. Yet I’m not discouraged, because I have finally found my purpose.

My greatest fear has always been that the murdering conquistador who fathered me might someday rise again. If Técun can return, why not his greatest enemy? Therefore, I’ve tracked down Alvarado’s grave in western Mexico and sent men to bring him home to Guatemala.

While they travel, I’m meeting with every daykeeper I can find and studying Mamá’s notes carefully. I, Leonor y Xiotenega Tecubalsi, daughter of the great priestess Xicoténcatl who bound Técun with her blood, will do the same to my wicked father. The infamous conqueror will never rise again to torture my people, because I intend to lock him in Xibalba, the place of fear, death and demons.

A fitting resting place for the monster Pedro de Alvarado.

When Técun returns, he will face great darkness. When he needs a weapon in his hand, he should search the fountain in my
palacio
near Lake Atitlán. That which made Alvarado famous in the bloody retreat of
La Noche Triste
later stole Técun’s life and sealed my people’s doom.

It’s only fitting that Técun use it to win his battle.

* * *

“Cass!”

My head lolled, too heavy for my neck. My body felt like eggshells, much too fragile to bear my weight. Groaning, I opened my eyes. Rock walls tilted strangely, wavering in sickening rolls. I coughed and then water leaked out of my nose.

Water.

Terrified, I fought upright. Had Natalie been forced to save me yet again? She crouched beside me, face pale and drawn. Helping me sit up, she brushed my soaked hair out of my face.

“What happened?”

“You must have slipped. One minute you were right there, and the next… God, Cass, you scared the shit out of me. The water’s not deep at all, but I couldn’t wake you up. Did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?”