—
The small convoy trekking through the rainforest toward the ancient ruins of the jaguar temple consisted of Luiz, Lojos, Mataias, Tomas and Sarika. She was surprised that Jubal was also with them. They had flown through the jungle, staying high above the canopy. Tomas had carried her, and Luiz had taken Jubal. That also surprised her, that her cousin was so clearly involved with the jaguars when he identified as a De La Cruz.
Having met Zacarias and his brother Riordan, she knew the bloodline had embraced Luiz, taken him as a true family member. He wasn’t adopted. He wasn’t half. He was fully their true bloodline and as intimidating as hell, yet he carried Jubal as if Jubal were his family. He was an enigma, one she doubted she would ever solve.
As they neared the ruins, she began to get uneasy, a feeling of dread filling her when she’d been comfortable and safe in Tomas’ arms.
We need to be on the forest floor,Luiz said, just as the exact same thought burst through her.
Something wasn’t right. They were very high, and no one should have been able to detect them, yet there seemed to be more danger to them above the canopy than inside the darkened interior. The uneasiness spread to the others.
It is impossible to see the ruins from the sky,Luiz told them.It is as if it is protected even from the latest technology. When others come to explore, they do not see the ruins of the temple. All jaguar know the way, but outsiders have not found it.
We know the way,Lojos said.We’re outsiders.
The temple recognizes Carpathians,Luiz said.
Sarika gasped, her hand sliding to her amulet. That was how Mitro had found her people centuries ago. He was Carpathian, and the temple regarded him as such.
Tomas set her feet gently on the forest floor. The interior was extremely dark, little light penetrating the thick canopy above. The moon was barely a sliver she could occasionally glimpse through the filter of leaves overhead. She relied on her night vision just as the others did.
The trek through the jungle carried a pall of gloom over it, a warning to turn back. With every step they took, the dread grew. The shadows moved ominously. There was no drone of insects or monkeys overhead. The forest was utterly still and eerily silent, as if holding its breath. No movement. No scurrying lizards or voles.
Sarika reached for the memories she kept locked away. Not all of them were nightmares, but she hadn’t separated the bad from the good until then.
“It is a safeguard, much like Carpathians weave,” Sarika said. “It was meant to allow the people to live in peace. That was all they wanted, to live out their lives in peace.”
“Is it your safeguard?” Jubal asked.
Sarika shook her head. “No, the people had established their village and constructed the temple before my time.”
“They called themselves Mayans?” Tomas asked. “Because as far as I know, Incas were in this rainforest but not Mayans.”
“We called them Mayans,” Jubal said. “Shifters did, because the ruins were close to the same type of structures the Mayans built.”
Sarika drew on the memories she had so carefully avoided. This time she chose to uncover the happier moments she’d spent with the gentle villagers. “The people never referred to themselves as Mayans,” Sarika confirmed.
“That makes much more sense,” Tomas agreed. “The little I’ve seen or heard makes me believe these people were separate from the Incas and the Mayans.”
Huge leaves like elephant ears flapped along the narrow path they trekked. Hundreds of vines hung down, thick ropes of twisted wood covered with hair, making them feel as if the legs of spiders brushed their faces as they passed. Long-stemmed liana, a woody vine rooted in soil, twisted into many alien shapes as it climbed the various trees.
They rounded a bend, pushing aside the overgrown abundance of leaves and brush to view ruins of more modern homes that had been burned to the ground. The jungle had reclaimed most of the area. That didn’t lessen the impact of sorrow, of blood spilled, a slaughter of men, women and children. Sarika was so sensitive, sheheardthe cries, the screams, the sounds of the massacre.
Solange.She felt the woman’s energy all around her. The terrible sorrow. The guilt of survival. The horrific knowledge that she couldn’t prevent the slaughter of everyone she loved. This was the site of Solange’s home before her father, Brodrick the Terrible, and his shifters had murdered every man, woman and child they deemed beneath them. This was where he had tried to kill Solange when she was just a child but hadn’t succeeded.
“She comes here often,” Jubal said, his voice almost reverent. “Dominic makes it better for her, but the pain of that day has never left her.”
Blood had soaked into the ground. The pain penetrated deep into the recollections of the forest. It would always be there, the memoryof the slaughter of a village. This hadn’t been the only massacre committed on these grounds. The memories rose from under the more modern-time murders, choking Sarika.
The screams and wails of the dying, the tortured innocent people, came from beneath the layers of Solange’s massacred village. Sarika couldn’t block them out. She tried everything, but the closer they got to the actual ruins of the temple, the louder the screams were, reminding her she hadn’t saved those gentle people. Her stomach lurched, knotted into tight fists of pain. There was no way to stop the rush of memories invading her mind and flooding her body with a sickening physical reaction.
The temple ruins were nearly overgrown with moss, vines and liana, making it nearly impossible to see until one was right up on it. The statue of the jaguar with its piercing eyes seemingly watched them from any angle of approach. Moss and liana climbed her body, but not her face. There wasn’t a speck of green on her head. Her gaze was fierce, the eyes of a predator judging their intent.
Sarika felt the power emanating from the statue. Through her, the others felt it as well.
“What is it made of?” Tomas asked. He got very close to inspect the statue, but he didn’t touch it. Sarika had been prepared to push him away. The statue was sacred. It was protected.
“Look at this,” Tomas invited his brothers. “This material is not from our planet. Like Sarika’s amulet, it is made from either an asteroid or a meteor. To make a statue this size, it would have been one huge chunk falling from the sky. Most are very small.”
