Night Demon, Page 2

  Eagles, jaguars, and snakes, yes. But never a wolf.

  Gretchen frowned and squinted her eyes, as if the figure might morph into a more common design. But it remained a lone wolf, its head tipped back in an eternal howl at the moon carved above it on the tile.

  Lost in thought, she tapped her pen against her spiral notebook, its light rhythm a stark contrast to the noise of the jungle animals outside. Their calls surrounded her in a nighttime symphony of sound. Many nocturnal creatures roamed the darkness outside their tent; it was difficult for her to discern one animal’s call from another.

  The noises had bothered her at first, waking her from fitful bouts of slumber. Ambien had been her savior, but even that didn’t promise her a full night of sleep. Especially lately, as the animals seemed to have become agitated. She’d been exhausted during her first month in the Yucatan, more dead than alive, and twice Lukas had carried her back to camp because she’d been too exhausted to walk from the altar in the heat. But now the night sounds comforted her, embraced her in the arms of the rainforest, taking Gretchen in as another part of its life. She yawned, stretching her arms up over her head. She’d been struggling with this translation long enough.

  The wolf could wait for one more night.

  Leaving the lantern on for Lukas whenever he returned, she moved over to her cot and pulled the clip free from her hair, sending it cascading down her back. She started to unbutton her shirt when the ground trembled violently under her feet.

  Gretchen turned and caught the lantern before it tumbled off the edge of the worktable. The earthquake rumbled again, getting stronger. The large canvas tent rattled, and the support posts squeaked in protest. Diving under the table, she covered her head and waited for the ground to stop shaking. She wasn’t sure if the loud rumbling and cracking noises were the huge trees creaking overhead or thunder, but she had her answer soon enough. The sky opened up, deafening her ears with the sound of rain pouring onto the roof of the tent.

  And Lukas was outside somewhere.

  When the tremors finally ceased and the earth settled, Gretchen scooted out from under the table, bringing the lantern with her. She could hear the tiny rivers of rainwater already gurgling outside. Strong and sudden storms often visited the jungle here. Without warning the forest could go from hot and humid to a torrential downpour, flooding the land below. Grabbing a flare gun and a hooded poncho, she opened the tent and peered out into the darkness.

  “Lukas!” She held her breath, waiting for a reply. “Lukas! Can you hear me?”

  She listened, but the steady fall of rain and silence were the only answers she received. In fact, it was too silent outside. The hair on her arms prickled. Definitely too quiet.

  What happened to all of the animals?

  Aiming the flare gun out into the darkness, she fought to control the trembling in her hands. A branch snapped, and Gretchen spun around.

  “Lukas?” She gnawed at her lower lip, praying he would answer. “Who’s there?”

  The low, guttural growl of a jaguar answered her. Gretchen held the light out in front of her, trying to see through the dense sheets of pouring rain. In all the months she’d spent here, she’d never seen a jaguar, but she knew the sound of their cries in the night. And now a predator as dark as the night itself crept closer. Panic seized her as she raised the flare gun with a shaky hand and fired it into the raging storm above.

  She squinted, momentarily blinded by the intense light and deafened by the boom of the gun. Blinking, she fought to see in the omniscient red glow, but instead of a jaguar, a huge horned owl dove straight at her head. Huge didn’t actually even begin to describe it. Could owls have a ten-foot wingspan?

  Gretchen gasped and fell back inside the safety of the brightly lit tent.

  Less than a second later, she heard a thunderous crash just outside the entrance, followed by another tremor. An unsettling silence followed in its wake.

  Slowly, she peered out through the door. A large gnarled tree now covered the ground where she’d been standing less than a minute before. Her heart pounded in her ears and she shivered, closing the door. If she didn’t know any better, she might have believed that oversized owl just saved her life.

  Chapter Two

  With his arms outstretched, his palms and face turned up toward the heavens, the Guardian stood at the top of the pyramid at Chichen Itza and closed his eyes. Hot rain pummeled his skin. Lightning flashed through the sky, casting his shadow down the steep stone steps. But his attention was focused elsewhere, far from the Yucatan jungle, across the seas and around the globe.

  His silent mental call reached out, searching for the four immortal brothers, his makers, the only ones who could put the Night Demon back to sleep. The Night Walker gods of the North, South, East, and West would hear his summons and know that Camalotz had awoken from her slumber, aching for freedom from her deep prison. He needed the brothers to help him find the sacrifice to silence her before she gained her freedom to feed in the world of man, before she had the chance to destroy the mortal balance of the Earth.

  Her name meant “sudden bloodletter.” Lifetimes before this one, Camalotz had exploded into the world of man when the Goddess of the Moon called the Demon forth. Although the Night Walker gods offered her blood sacrifices, the Demon’s hunger grew insatiable and uncontrollable. Each night with the rising of the moon, she feasted, and her power multiplied, until the Goddess who called her into this world could no longer control the Demon. Camalotz fed not only on blood but on mortal life, drinking in the spirit that flowed within the blood.

  Eventually she no longer needed the blood to stain her lips in order to feed. She could poison the minds of mortals. They’d end their lives, spilling their own blood at her command. She could drink in their spirits from a greater distance each night, never quenching her hunger.

  That’s when the Guardian was created. The Mayan artisans chiseled his body from limestone. The blood of the Demon herself granted him life and flesh, while the magic of the Night Walker gods, the four immortal brothers, gave him purpose. Camalotz was his sole responsibility. The brothers sent him forth to slow her appetite, to be a guardian for the ones she would slaughter. He could not stop her completely, but he could slow her feeding and destruction. And if she ever broke free, he would once more become her companion, her lover, and her keeper until the others contained her again.

  Only then would he know ageless sleep as he had for the past thousand years.

  For hours, until the stars dimmed and the sky lightened, he stood motionless, a sentinel to protect the mortal world from the evil that hungered and thirsted below the earth. The immortal brothers would answer the call.

  They would answer, or the mortal world was doomed.

  …

  The great horned owl landed silently behind the tent, his sharp talons sinking into the drenched soil. He shook the excess water from his feathers, and gradually the air around him sparked with energy as he gave up his spirit animal form. The bird stretched his wings, his body shifting from the great horned owl back into that of a fully clothed man.

  Lukas ran shaky fingers through his wet hair, his heart pounding in his chest. What if Gretchen hadn’t jumped back inside the tent? He didn’t want to think about it. He’d grown far too attached to her.

  Shaking his head, he trudged through the mud to the front of the tent. His body thrummed with power. Instead of feeding on wildlife, he’d found a poacher tonight.

  He didn’t allow himself to kill the man, afraid the death might unleash the insatiable hunger that burned inside of him, just below the surface, enticing him. Instead, he left his prey unconscious for the wilds of the nocturnal rainforest to pass judgment.

  The infusion of rich human blood enhanced his inhuman senses much more than feeding on animals. That was the main reason he stayed in the Yucatan jungle studying the ancient Mayan ruins: blood. He wanted to understand why his body required it, why on some level his thirst was never quenched. How many mo
re centuries could he endure the sick hunger, feeding like a cannibal on this former kin?

  His immortal transformation had been an accident, but that didn’t lessen the horror of his fate. He’d been changed without any choice in the matter, and the effects proved irreversible.

  Initially his thirst had been insatiable. His maker held him back, screaming at the mortal women to run. Later, he’d instructed Lukas to feed only on animals, and he tried to live on the blood of beasts—he still did today—but human blood remained too great a temptation.

  Memories of the slaughter of a native family near the Mission De Alcala still haunted him. Almost three hundred years had passed, yet the echoes of their cries for mercy continued to linger in the dark corners of his mind. Images of the terror in their eyes while he drank from them until the entire family lay lifeless on the floor taunted him, reminding him of his sin.

  His gut clenched at the memory. He closed his eyes, taking a long, slow breath. That single night led to years of madness. He’d fled far from the coastal village they now called San Diego so that he couldn’t hurt anyone again, and he could search for answers in peace. He wanted to know what a Night Walker was and where it had come from.

  And how could he kill it.

  It wasn’t until he began studying the Native American tribes of North America that he found a breakthrough that had led him here, to this jungle, to the Mayans.

  And to Gretchen.

  Quietly, he opened the door to the tent. He needed to be certain she was safe.

  A note hung from the lantern in front of his face.

  Lukas—

  An enormous owl almost attacked me, and I narrowly escaped being smashed by a large tree. Forgive my cowardice, but I am NOT setting foot outside this tent again tonight. I hope you get back safely to read this note… I’ll search for you again in the morning if you aren’t here when I wake up.

  Gretchen

  He couldn’t help but smile, gazing over at her sleeping form. That’s why she fired the flare gun into the storm. She’d been looking for him. His chest tightened with unwelcome emotion, and he tore the note down from the lantern. After one last look, he forced himself to crumble the paper like it meant nothing to him.

  “Lukas?”

  He flinched with surprise when he heard her voice. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  Gretchen sat up. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders, like fire in the darkness, and he realized he was definitely growing far too fond of seeing her smile.

  “I was worried about you. Did you see my note?”

  Lukas nodded, slipping the wadded up ball of paper into his pocket. “Are you all right?”

  “Shaken up a little but otherwise unharmed. Why on earth were you out in the jungle all alone, at night, in a storm?”

  “You make it sound dangerous.” He smiled when she rolled her eyes. “I went for a walk, but the rain started before I made it back. I found shelter until it eased up.” Lukas sat on his cot and unlaced his hiking boots. “Any luck translating that last glyph from the altar?”

  “Not really. I’ll have to take a closer look in the morning. I agree with your Night Walker translation, though. I just wonder what it means. Maybe they were elite priests or something?”

  “I don’t know, but the answers are here, we just need to decode them.” He pulled off a boot.

  “You aren’t going to be here when I wake up again in the morning, are you?”

  He set the other boot down and slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Probably not. Why?”

  Gretchen got up with a yawn and walked back over to the worktable. “Then I better show you this now.”

  He followed her to the table, trying not to notice her shapely, slender legs exposed beneath her nightshirt, or the way she tilted her head and pulled her long hair to one side to look down at the stone tile. He bit back the wave of desire and forced his attention to their work.

  “Do you see it there, at the bottom? I’m pretty sure they’re referring to the woman as a Goddess. Maybe of the Moon? See how the wolf is howling up at it? I’ve never seen another glyph quite like it. Have you?”

  She turned her head to glance back at him as he leaned in to look at the image.

  For a moment he forgot what he was, swept up in the closeness and the scent of her. For just a moment, he was simply a man.

  He moved toward her, part of him hoping she would resist and save them both from the dangerous emotions churning inside of him. Her breath on his skin was like the brush of angel’s wings as his lips parted. His gaze searched hers, but she didn’t pull away.

  Lukas cleared his throat, forcing himself to put distance between them. But before he could stop himself, he raised his hand to caress the softness of her cheek, his thumb brushing along her jaw.

  For a brief second, he set aside his guilt, his quest for knowledge, the entire world, and for a moment he truly saw her. They’d shared a tent in the rainforest for ten months, and until now, he’d never allowed himself to see the caring in her gaze. She had gorgeous green eyes, lush like the jungle that surrounded them. Easy to lose himself in.

  Lukas straightened and shook his head. He couldn’t do this. This attraction put her in more danger than the jungle around them.

  “I’m staying until we finish this. Don’t even think of sending me back,” she whispered, throwing him off-balance.

  That was exactly what he thought he should do.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t lie to me.” She crossed her arms. “We’ve known each other too long for lies.”

  Lukas dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. “You’ve already stayed longer than you should. You and I both know that.”

  “You need me here. I’m the best chance you have at translating those glyphs.”

  “You almost died tonight.” He met her eyes again. “You’ve already risked more on this project than I ever should have asked. Go home. Live a happy life.”

  “You think leaving will make me happy?” She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t think you were the kind of man who assumed a woman needs a home with a husband and child to be happy. Guess I was wrong.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “It’s exactly what you meant.” Gretchen shook her head again and turned to go sit on her cot. “I’m not going anywhere. I signed on for another six months and that’s how long I’ll stay… Unless you fire me.”

  “I have no intention of firing you, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  She shrugged and slid her feet into her sleeping bag. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Fine.” Lukas rubbed his forehead and nodded. The sunrise neared, leaving his body heavy, and his patience fading into frustration. “Nothing has to change for now. Let’s just pretend tonight never happened.”

  She clasped her hands together, staring at her fingers. Gradually her gaze met his, and for a moment, he was tempted to peer into her mind. In all their months together, he’d never breeched her privacy. He respected her far too much to use his inhuman power on her.

  Her thoughts were her own.

  He could see her mixed emotions about his suggestion, but he saw no other solution. His future didn’t include her.

  “I know you don’t have any family, and you haven’t left this jungle in nearly a year.” She lowered her voice. “You’re an intelligent man and a brilliant archeologist. Why keep everyone at such a distance?”

  Lukas rubbed the ache in his chest. “Because I’m not like everyone else.”

  He turned and walked out into the darkness without another word.

  …

  The shadow loped across the desert sand toward the sea, powerful haunches lunging forward, pushing it faster until it became invisible to the human eye. Issa enjoyed the sound of the wind whistling past his feline ears, reminding him that he remained part of this world, even though he no longer felt connected to it.

  When his black Jaguar paws finally reached the s
andy shore, he halted. Energy swirled around him, brushing up the fine sand as his body arched and the transformation from beast back to man began. His thick paws became hands and feet, his face regained human features, and his sleek coat mutated into smooth, tanned skin, blending him into the canvas of the night. Only the whites of his eyes betrayed his position.

  His tall, muscular frame appeared like a silhouette in the moonlight. The moon cast his shadow on the ground, enhancing his sloped forehead and angular features, while the desert wind ran its fingers through his long, black hair.

  A single ship waited at the dilapidated dock, and a hint of a smile washed over Issa’s face, disappearing almost as suddenly as it had come. Money could still buy just about anything.

  He’d lived in Egypt since the great separation destroyed his civilization over a thousand years earlier. Finally, the time had come to return home. From around the world, his brothers would also have heard the Guardian’s call to make their pilgrimage back to the Yucatan.

  Home.

  Issa strode silently toward the ship, adjusting the hood of his robe to keep his face in the shadows. No human could look into his eyes anymore without coming under his spell. Centuries ago he had considered it a gift, but with each passing year it grew infinitely stronger, until he no longer met a mortal’s eyes without entrancing them. Every year it further alienated him from the rest of the world.

  He sought refuge and some semblance of peace alone in the Sahara. He hadn’t used his voice to speak in nearly a century because it wasn’t necessary. He was an immortal Night Walker, and over the millennia that he had walked in darkness, his preternatural powers had multiplied many times over.

  Regardless of his strength, he kept himself hidden from the world, a long-forgotten god of the past, useless in this world of the future. He fed on desert creatures, or an occasional thug or thief, and gathered information about the modern world around him from the collective thoughts that drifted on the night wind from the humans in nearby cities.