The Bloodgate Guardian Page 15

  “Go where?” Bewildered, she searched the still waters, the three volcanoes perfectly reflected. Something pinged on the altar and chips of stone flew up, stinging her arm.

  He shoved her up the ramped stone, using his body to cover her. “They’ve seen us. Go!”

  On the rock slab that hung out over the water, she felt her stomach pitch and her head whirl like a merry-go-round. Shimmering waters beckoned, but it was at least a twenty-foot drop. This lake was so deep that it’d never been sounded. Shivering with fear, she reached back and clutched his hand. He wrapped his other arm around her, and together, they jumped.

  Water enveloped her, warmer than she’d expected, and thick. In the murky darkness, she couldn’t see anything, not even the man beside her. He dragged her down, his arms locked about her. Instinct screamed at her to kick for the surface and fight his grip, but she felt him calm and sure in her mind. He hadn’t saved her earlier to let her drown now.

  Lungs burning for air, she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on not breathing. She would not open her mouth. God, how deep? Where was the bottom?

  “Almost through. Don’t panic.”

  She clung to his mental voice like a lifeline, the stroke of fur inside her odd and yet terribly comforting.

  Darkness closed. Fire exploded behind her eyeballs, searing her skin and blasting her mind. Cold seared her to the bone, making her teeth ache. Involuntarily, she gasped and choked, her lungs filling with water. It actually felt and tasted like water, and not some viscous slime.

  Ruin hauled her up into air and she spluttered and coughed. The world spun crazily. It was still dark, but the moon had changed position. It gleamed directly overhead, illuminating steep cliffs all around, shaped like a bowl.

  “Welcome to the Sacred Cenote of the Itza people.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  He had just enough strength remaining to give her tempting backside a shove up out of the water so she could climb onto the ledge leading to the cave. Turning around, Jaid held down her hand and helped draw him up onto the sandy ledge, or he might not have made it.

  “Ruin?”

  Her voice sounded very far away, vibrating with worry. She leaned over him, little more than a shadow in the cave. Her hands felt scorching hot on his face, trailing down his neck and across his shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Transforming again and again, while working such magic, had diminished even his cursed immortal reserves. Distantly, he wondered if he could die from exhaustion. How long would the gods allow him to rest before forcing him back to his duty? “It’s not serious.”

  “Blood—you’ve been shot!”

  Her rising panic through their magical bond made no sense to him. “The bullet went through. You’ve seen me receive much worse damage than this, lady.”

  “Your skin is cold and clammy, your heart rate is erratic, and your speech sounds fuzzy. You must have lost too much blood. I think you’re going into shock.”

  “I’m just tired.” He started to lift a hand toward her face, but then realized he still gripped the knife. He let it fall to the sand so he could cup her face in his palm. “For so much magic, I must pay the price.”

  For her, he’d pay that price willingly.

  “You said you had clothing stashed here. Do you have blankets? Maybe some food?”

  “Yes, but not here in the cave where it may be found. Truly, I’ll be fine after a little rest.” He noted she was shivering, but whether from shock herself or simply being wet, he couldn’t tell. Everyone responded to the Gates differently, especially the first time. Maybe that explained her panic.

  He tried to sit up and wrap her in his arms so they could warm each other. Biting back a groan, he let his head fall back. Too weak. Perhaps this was the end. He’d never exerted himself so many times without renewal before. He didn’t even have enough reserves left to transform to the jaguar and hunt.

  To his great shame, his teeth began to chatter and shivers shook his frame.

  Brow lined, she placed her hand on his head. She gnawed on her bottom lip and he groaned again, remembering her mouth beneath his. That would certainly restore his reserves, but it also presented a risk he dared not take. “You’re getting worse by the minute.”

  He let his eyes fall closed. There was no need to expose her to the darker elements of his curse. For the first time in nearly a thousand years, he found himself wishing he didn’t have to die. That he could live. With her.

  She made a soft, fragile little sound that made him want to wrap his body around hers and never let her go.

  Blood. He scented her blood.

  His eyes flew open. Gripping his knife, she smiled down at him, her eyes glittering, her mouth hard with determination.

  “You work the magic of the Gate through blood, so surely this will help you.” Slowly, she lowered her bleeding hand toward his mouth. “Am I wrong?”

  He wanted to refuse it. He should die untouched by her compassion, her courage, her spirit. Such a sacrifice. For him.

  “It’s very dangerous, lady. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

  Her free hand brushed his hair away from his face. “You’ve saved me at least twice, now. Let me help you.”

  The taste of her blood exploded in his mouth, a sunburst of flavor and power. She tasted as she smelled: green magic, forgotten knowledge, rain, mixed with the deep, rich spice of coppery blood. Each swallow sent warmth coursing through his body, heating his throat, stomach and groin.

  Ah, the danger. Exactly why he didn’t indulge in human blood. The power and temptation were too great.

  He locked his fingers around her hand and set his teeth into the flesh of her palm. She made a low, ragged sound in the back of her throat that had nothing to do with pain. A sound he liked a great deal. He tugged her down, sprawling her across his chest. Her wet clothing prevented the stirring magic of skin to skin contact except through her hands. She stroked her free palm over his chest in torturous circles that seared his mind to ash.

  The spirit bond between them glowed like a comet in the midnight sky, blazing fire through him. She soaked into him like the first spring rain after a drought, healing the cracks and chasms in his soul. Gods help him, how could he ever die and leave her? “See how dangerous?”

  She felt fragile in his arms. Human. Temporal. He could snuff out her life with a simple twist of his powerful hands. He could wipe her memories with his power. He could open a Gate and drag her to eternal paradise, where he’d be forced to leave her and return to his punishment.

  “It may be dangerous, but it feels incredible.”

  Slanting his head, he dragged his tongue over the cut in her palm. She moaned and squirmed against him, her breath catching in her throat. Silk slithered through his mind, rain-slick and magic-hot.

  “Touch me.”

  He slid a palm down her back, relishing her response. Every soft gasp and tremble was sweet music to a man doomed to endless death. “I never dreamed to hold a woman again.”

  “I never dreamed I could tame a jaguar.”

  Rolling, he pinned her beneath him and laughed, low and rough, a deliberate growl rumbling his chest. “Do you think me tamed?”

  “Your injury—”

  He licked her palm one last time and released her hand. “Healed.”

  She sought out the jagged hole the bullet had tore through his back and he knew she found only the slightly thickened skin of a scar. She raised her gaze to his and trembled faintly. His body couldn’t help but respond.

  Her emotions crashed through him, a tumult of shock and desire, fear and desire. “So fast.”

  Carefully, he lifted his weight off her and pushed back to kneel at her feet. “I thank you, lady. I’m fully restored.”

  Still shivering, she gazed up at him with darkness in her eyes. She sat up, holding his gaze, and began to tug the soggy shirt over her head. He could not help but trace the gentle curves of her body with his gaze. So lovely. The greatest artisans
of his time would have delighted in attempting to capture her form.

  She stood and worked at her jeans, shoving and twisting to get the wet material down her hips. His tongue felt thick and swollen in his mouth, his throat tight, and he knew his eyes must be blazing like lamps in the darkness, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her skin gleamed like the moon, inviting his touch, his mouth.

  Biting back a rumbling growl, he averted his gaze. The rustle of clothing made his entire body tighten. He fisted his hands. He couldn’t bear to look upon such glory and be denied. It would be worse than the agonies of dying, to see the Great Ceiba in the distance and be sent back to this earth yet again to die in the service of the Gates.

  She touched his shoulder and he flinched. Her scent flowed over him, sweet as honey, rich as cacao, green and fresh with his magic. His mouth watered to taste every inch. Muscles straining, he forced himself to remain still, his hands at his sides.

  It was a battle he lost as soon as she slipped into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Gods above, her skin was as soft and fine as he’d imagined, even clammy and cold after her dunking. Shivering, she nestled closer, tucking her head up against his neck.

  Skin to skin, the magic flared between them. Flames licked his flesh, energy pulsing higher with each breath he took. His hands trembled on the smooth expanse of her back, his fingers aching to linger lower, gripping her hips and hauling—

  “Are we safe here?”

  Her lips brushed against his neck with each word. It took him two tries to ease the tightness in his throat enough to speak. “Even if the demons feel the dagger’s presence, it will take them much longer to trek across all of Guatemala and the Yucatan. We’re safe enough to rest and recuperate our strength.”

  “Good.” She opened her mouth and gripped his throat with her teeth, pressing harder until he let out a raw growl that should have told her how close the jaguar walked in his body. “Because I’m very hungry. For you.”

  He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. Slow and gentle, he kissed a path up to her ear, where he lingered, breathing warm and moist, his lips soft against her. “You saw me die.”

  She shuddered, her heart clenching with dread at the image of his powerful body crumpled on the floor at the compound with a bloody dent in his skull. “And you always come back.”

  “Not always. Someday, I will die the final death. I already fear our connection. If I die, I may drag you to the White Road as well. If we make love, the spirit bond will only grow stronger. I would not cause you suffering, lady.”

  She pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. “Say my name.”

  His stark face was as hard as the chiseled rock of the stelae guardposts of his dead city. “For the first time in hundreds of years, I find myself unable to pray for an end to my duty as Gatekeeper. I don’t want to die this time. I don’t want to miss one moment of this life with you, Jaid.”

  Such vulnerability trembled in his words. She knew what his heart had cost him in the past. Throat aching, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t drive him to break his duty, either. Not when her father was trapped in hell and innocents were slaughtered to demons, all because of her research. “I can’t leave my father in Xibalba if there’s any hope that he’s still alive.”

  Ruin sighed soft and low, his breath a whisper against her cheek. “I know. I said I would help you, did I not?”

  Guilt suffocated her. “I don’t want you to suffer, either. I don’t want to put you in the same position as your brother.”

  The sudden white flash of his smile stunned her. “I assure you, I never had this position with my brother.”

  She laughed, he smiled, and some of the regret and tension bled away, leaving only the glide of skin, the heated press of his body, and rising desire. She needed to touch him and feel his hands on her skin. For a little while, they could forget the horrors of demons. She didn’t have to worry about Venus Star and her lost father.

  This man had already opened her up and stared into her darkest self. Ruin stood at the top of his pyramid, dripping blood from her heart clutched in his hand, volcanoes rumbling and Lake Atitlan surging like a tsunami behind him. She felt new-made, as though Dr. Jaid Merritt had jumped into the lake and some other woman had emerged in the Sacred Cenote. A woman who shivered and moaned at the thought of this untamed, powerful man sinking into her.

  Her breath came short and fast. Rising up on her knees, she took him into her body. He groaned harshly, his hands convulsing on her back.

  “I’m doubly cursed now,” he said, his eyes glittering eerily, his voice rumbling with jaguar tones, “because I don’t wish to part from you. Ever.”

  Everywhere their skin met, golden light spread liquid and warmth. Unlike the dancing fireflies when he transformed, this light grew softly, glowing brighter to fully illuminate his face, his high forehead, his sharp, chiseled cheekbones, the thick slabs of muscle across his shoulders and chest. His tattoos swirled and pulsed, spreading in a thickening vine up his neck as if they fed on the light.

  As if they fed on his pleasure and need.

  “Yes,” he breathed against her lips. “As you gave me blood, you give me power now. Such power.” He trembled beneath her and buried his face against her shoulder. “I feel like we’re still in the Gate. I’m drowning in you.”

  Her senses overloaded. She fisted one hand in his heavy hair and clawed at his back with the other, trying to get closer, closer yet, as if she could simply crawl inside his body and meld their hearts forever. She flicked her tongue hesitantly at the dark swirls in his throat. His skin felt like living velvet, but she couldn’t feel the tattoos themselves. He groaned and threw his head back, so she pressed her mouth harder, letting her teeth dig into his flesh.

  Falling through the Gate, the only thing real had been his hand gripping hers, his body dragging hers under. It was the same now, as he dragged her through a different Gate. In his mind, she saw a sleek black pyramid stretching all the way to the sun. It blazed liquid fire at its tip, casting rainbows and rivers of gold down the steep obsidian sides. Feathers fell all around, jade and gold, and the air smelled alive with a thousand scents carried on the first breath of spring.

  He took her to First Five Sky. Heaven.

  She heard his hoarse cry. Her throat hurt, so she must have yelled too. Her head felt disconnected, her consciousness still lingering in that place of magic. She barely felt him draw her down to lie on the sands. Cradled against his chest, she listened as his thundering heart slowed. Her breathing steadied, her pulse slowed, and so did his. It dawned on her that their breathing was perfectly synchronized.

  Drifting off to sleep, she wondered how her heart could possibly continue beating when he died again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Lighting a torch at the back of the cave, Ruin could not help but steal glances at Jaid as she dressed in the faint sunlight streaming through the cave opening. She grimaced at her still-damp clothing, but until he took her into the hidden temple, it was all she had available.

  She, too, couldn’t help but look at him beneath her lashes. She said nothing, though, which twisted him into uneasy knots. Did she regret giving both her blood and her body to him last night?

  He was completely healed and stronger than he’d ever been. The thought should have pleased him greatly. But Jaid moved as though every muscle in her body ached. Sleeping on the sand and jumping through the Gate for the first time had taken their toll, and though she didn’t complain, she wasn’t refreshed and strong, not like him.

  She winced at her palm. The cut she’d made for him. He’d forgotten about it entirely.

  Shame welled in his heart. He set the burning torch back into the holder and gently took her hand in both of his. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was red, angry, and the edges were inflamed. Dirt and sand had been ground into her flesh.

  Holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth to the cut. Carefully, he breathed magic into her skin. He kept his li
ps soft and carefully slid his tongue over the cut to clean the dirt away. When he was done, her lips were parted, her eyes glazed with desire, and her breathing was a soft, rapid pant.

  He placed a kiss on the now smooth skin and straightened, letting his mouth quirk. “Thank you for your sacrifice last night, lady.”

  Heat bloomed on her cheeks and she tugged her hand away.

  Laughing softly, he returned to the back of the cave and retrieved the torch. “Are you ready?”

  “Lead the way.”

  Casting wavering torch-light on the wall, he scanned the glyphs. The small depression in the wall of the Sacred Cenote was just that, a hole to the casual eye. It certainly didn’t appear to be a tunnel that led up to a hidden chamber beneath Kukulkan’s Pyramid. It had been centuries since he stared at this wall.

  “They’re remarkably clear after so many years.” Jaid stood beside him, lightly trailing her fingers over them. “I suppose they’re rather sheltered from the elements, unless the cenote floods this high.”

  Lost in thought as she translated the glyphs, she gnawed on her bottom lip. The lip he would relish nibbling on again.

  “Great Feathered Serpent, rise again. Renew us to power and life.”

  “This glyph is actually magic.” He touched the one she’d translated as power. “This picture shows the kuxan sum, or living cord, that rises toward Raised-Up Sky, connecting earth to heaven. Magic flows through the Ceiba, from the branches to the trunk, even to the roots.”

  “To Xibalba,” she whispered grimly.

  “Yes. The magic is there, too, but Itzamna, the first sorcerer, never gave his brothers in the Place of Fright that knowledge. Knowledge in this case truly is magic, or power as you said. If the Lords of Night ever gain the Gate magic, Raised-Up Sky will be hacked to pieces and the world as we know it will end. There will be no afterlife, no Return, no paradise. The Maya and humans alike will be slaughtered.”

  Jaid shivered but didn’t stop studying the glyphs. Her fingers twitched at her side as though she traced the markings. She could be so dangerous.