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Tino pulled out his pliers and crushed the transmitter. Whoever monitored Isabella’s travels would no longer follow her movements. Could it be Martin or Walsh? They both had motives. With Walsh’s connections to the narcos, he could have told them Isabella was in the cave when Tino escaped. Or Virgil could have had her monitored to not lose her. In which case, he would have known where she was and not sent people out randomly searching for her. The whole thing didn’t add up.
Isabella watched him, her eyes wide and full of worry. He pulled her into his arms and held her to his beating heart. Her only safety rested with him. It was becoming clear they had no one they could trust. His mind wandered back to his first conversation with Pedro. He’d said he was watching Isabella and Martin. Could the cook be the one monitoring Isabella? If so, why? Did he do so for the doctor?
“No one will find you now. I promise we will finish my mission and return you to the states.”
She pushed out of his arms. “I can’t go back until I’ve made sure everyone at the dig is safe.”
“Ezzabella, what are you keeping from me? Learning about the sacrificial ceremony does not put anyone in danger.” He peered into her eyes. She held something back. ¡Coño! She knew.
He held her gaze, waiting. He wasn’t sure what she would do if she found out he already knew her secret.
She looked away then studied her hands. “Don Miguel and Virgil plan to use me to re-enact the moon god ceremony.” Her wide eyes beseeched his. “I’m afraid if I’m not there to stop them they’ll use someone who doesn’t have the knowledge to prevent their ill-advised deed.” She grasped his hands. “I believe don Miguel thinks the prosperity talked about in the ceremony will make him rich. And Virgil—he has obsessed about the sacrificial rituals since I was old enough to know what they were. I have to stop them.”
Her commitment to doing what was right added one more layer to why he had fallen for her. But he refused to allow her to try to stop the two mad men.
“Querida, you cannot stop them alone. We will think together and come up with a plan.” If not for his mission, he would carry her to a boat, take her down the river, and place her on a plane, perhaps even travel with her all the way to her home. Then come back and confront the two men.
“You don’t understand. It’s Mayan history that I’ve studied and know. It has to be me who stops them. I can feel it.” She squeezed his hands. Her eyes peered at him over glasses that slid to the tip of her nose. “I have to reveal the story. Something in the altar chamber has awakened and presses me to reveal the truth. I must.”
“You cannot reveal the truth if you are dead.” He didn’t like the way she spoke of entities of another world.
“I won’t die. You’ll protect me.” Her gaze lowered to the radio by his knee. “Don’t you have a call to make?”
He picked up the radio and used his GPS to point the antenna in the correct direction. “This conversation is not over, just delayed.” He dialed in Ginger and waited.
“Ginger. Over.”
“Konstantine. Over.”
“Hector sends his regards. Over.”
Tino frowned. What did he mean by that? “Why? Over.”
“The target was caught on the move. Over.”
That was why he hadn’t seen anything of Hector. They had been on the trail of the narcos.
“Good news. Over.”
“Watch yourself. They know you’re still there. Over.”
¡Coño! Someone knew his true dual occupation. He would have to be careful. He couldn’t trust anyone.
“Mi amor, you flatter me with your concern. Over.” He could laugh it off with Ginger but not the glistening hazel eyes staring at him.
“Take care. Out.” Ginger signed off.
The buzz of the lost connection roared in his ears as he gazed into Isabella’s worried eyes.
She reached a hand out touching his cheek. “They know you’re an agent.”
“It appears that way.” He turned his head and kissed her palm.
“You should leave the country.”
He shook his head. “I cannot. I vowed to take down all who are involved in drug trafficking. They killed my family. I will not rest until the man responsible is in jail. Or dead.”
“What if you end up dead?” She scooted closer, her knees pressing against his thighs, her body leaning into him.
“I shall be reunited with my family and will know I died avenging their deaths.” Anger and vengeance burned in his chest. Yes, he could die any day, and on that day, he would be able to look his family in the eyes and tell them he had done everything in his power to avenge their deaths. To run now would only haunt him.
“Is Konstantine your real name?”
She asked so softly he wasn’t sure he heard her.
“Konstantine,” she repeated. “The name you used on the radio. Is that a real name or a code name?”
“My real name is Augustino Konstantine. Tino Kosta is my undercover name.” He placed a soft, pleased-to-meet-you kiss on her sensual lips. He no longer had urgent business other than keeping Isabella safe, however, making love to her on this knoll wasn’t a good idea even though his body responded to the thought.
“Mmmm...” She drew out of the kiss. “I like both names and it validates my first impression of your heritage.”
“How is that?” He drew her back, holding her in his arms and resting his chin on her head.
“I could tell you weren’t of indigenous descent. The European is strong in your features.” She drew back. “Are you even Guatemalan?”
“You need to work on your dialects. Everyone in this country knows I am an outsider the minute I speak.”
Her petite nose scrunched and her brow furrow. “Then Virgil has known from your first encounter you aren’t Guatemalan, yet he hasn’t said a thing.”
“Is he good at dialects?” This was interesting. Why was it Martin failed to challenge me if he knew I was an impostor?
“Yes. He’s fluent in many Central and South American languages and dialects.” Isabella sat back on her feet. She stared into his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” He reached out, lacing his fingers with hers.
“This whole dig has felt awkward. First, it’s so small. Virgil always has at least thirty-five people.”
“He is on a reduced budget.”
She shook her head. “That hasn’t stopped him before. And Eunice said he’s shipping all the artifacts to the university to be authenticated and stored. Before, he always did the authenticating at the dig, and then doled it out to the places that would learn the most and cherish the items.”
“The Guatemalan government is tired of its Mayan heritage being looted and robbed. Perhaps it is the only way he can dig?”
Her head moved slightly. “Maybe, but then you’d think an official would be here watching over the whole process. And the presence of don Miguel...” She shivered.
The tremors ran down her arms and vibrated against his palm. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I just feel he’s not to be trusted or pure.”
Tino watched her, mulling over her strange choice of word. He had expected her to say evil or vicious.
Her gaze held sadness. “I think this whole dig was a front for the reason I’m here—to recreate the moon god ceremony. I don’t think don Miguel ever offered a half million for the translation of the ceremony. Virgil used my weakness—my work—to get me here and my knowledge to help them replicate the ceremony. I’ve never felt so stupid in my life.”
“If you will no longer receive funding from this project you should get on a plane. There is no need to put yourself through any more of this. Go home and work on grants and fundraisers to keep your department.” Tino kissed her knuckles. He wanted her far from here and danger.
She shook her head. “I may not get my funding, but I’ll not allow them to hurt anyone with their fanatical ideas.”
Knowing her as well as he did, he realized getting her away before they stopped the two mad men wasn’t going to happen. “Then I suggest we go to the settlement and make a plan.”
“Don’t you have to go after the drug traffickers?”
“Hector took down the group I found. Now, I have to find another group and their hideout so Hector can swoop in and take that out as well. The best way is to stay at the settlement and learn what the locals know.” He stood and drew her to her feet.
She leaned into him, her body pressing against his. If not for the growing heat of the sun he would have gladly pulled her tight and enjoyed a little afternoon tryst. An alarm went off in his head. They’d made love on the altar without any protection. What if Isabella became pregnant? The idea wasn’t as scary as it had been in the past when a woman tried to say he’d fathered a child. The idea of a child between him and Isabella sat warm and comfortable in his heart.
“Is there a chance we could have made a baby back on the altar?” he asked in as casual a tone as he could muster given the carnal direction of his thoughts.
“Would that bother you?” Her body stiffened and drew away from him.
“No. The idea is pleasing. But I do not want you feeling pressured if it happened. While I believe a man should support his child and wife, I would not expect you to give up your passion for your work.”
Her body molded back against him, and her eyelids lowered in a sultry display he hadn’t thought her capable of.
“Due to my lack of body fat and crazy metabolism, my menstrual cycle only comes a few times a year, making me a poor candidate for producing children.”
He wasn’t sure if the information relieved him or made him a bit sad.
She tilted her head and favored him with a saucy look. “It means we’d have to work extra hard to have children so lots of practice would be necessary.”
He gazed down at her face. The spark of desire mingled with a bit of shyness in her eyes heated him more thoroughly than the tropical sun. “Querida, you have captured me completely. I wish to love you slow and long unlike the hasty lovemaking on the altar.”
At the mention of the altar her gaze drifted over his shoulder and a soft smile curved her luscious lips.
“What are you thinking?”
Isabella shook her head. “I’ve never felt as loved and wanted as I do in your arms.” She hugged him tight. “If I never experience being loved again what you have given me will forever bring me happiness.”
“Shhh, querida, I will always be with you in your heart and will work to be a part of your life. But there is much that must be finished first.” He kissed her and moved away. They’d lingered in one spot long enough. They had to keep moving until they were safely hidden in a hut at the settlement. Tino picked up his pack and shouldered it.
“But we’ll have tonight.” Her softly whispered announcement and dreamy smile nearly had him dropping his pack and drawing her back into his arms. ¡Coño! Who would have guessed such a passionate woman lived inside this intelligent slip of a doctor?
Isabella couldn’t stop the pulse of excitement sparking her extremities at the knowledge they would spend the night together. She and Tino in a bed, together, all night. His eyes had darkened with desire while speaking, telling her he was just as excited. She grabbed her packs and trotted to catch up to him.
His current assignment was done, and he planned to help her thwart Virgil and don Miguel. Her heart ached that she wouldn’t be going home with the money to keep her department open and her work going. But the notes in her journal on the ceremony would make a wonderful paper that might help extend her chances of getting funding.
She’d connected with the woman on the altar. It was bizarre, but she’d always been a firm believer in the supernatural. And there was no dismissing the way her skin warmed and mind hazed when she entered the altar chamber, or the fact that voices chanted and spoke to her. They spoke of Virgil’s insincerity. Was it to her or to the Mayas? When don Miguel entered the chamber, the room had become frosty and pricked with fear. She’d known he was dangerous, but the reaction of the chamber had made her even more wary.
She stared at Tino’s back. Would he believe her if she told him all her notions and how she came to her conclusions? He wasn’t a Maya or of native descent. Could he understand the essence that still pulsed in the chamber? Her heart said he would understand and listen; her head said he was logical and would think her foolish. Her darn logical head always got in the way.
Who was monitoring her movement? Had Virgil slipped the transmitter into her watch to keep track of her? And Walsh, would he go to such measures to get his hands on her journal thinking he could get paid from don Miguel?
She was the person who could help them with the ceremony. She had the translation and she was the sacrificial victim. A shiver raced up her back. If she couldn’t be found would they stop the re-creation of the ceremony? The zeal in don Miguel’s eyes and the desperation in Virgil’s made her think they would continue whether they had the ritual right or not. And that could mean catastrophe not only for the victim but the Maya future.
Isabella kept Tino in sight as they moved through the jungle, but her mind flipped through her notes page by page, trying to discern any clue she might have missed. She’d untangled one line of glyphs she had misinterpreted by the time they stepped from the trees and a wide river flowed in front of them.
Tino pointed to an area up the bank harboring three boats. She recognized the craft they’d used to get to the dig. Our transportation to the settlement and a night without worry, just the two of us.
She followed Tino. He turned the boat upright and dumped his packs into the hull. Footsteps pounded the ground behind her. She spun in time to watch the blur of two men run by her and tackle Tino.
Isabella dropped her pack, put her weight on her back leg, and kicked out at one of the assailants. The vibration up her leg proved she had executed a well-placed kick. The man yelled and came at her, limping.
“Don’t harm the woman!” Don Miguel’s voice boomed around her like an enhanced megaphone moments before large hands grasped her wrists and pulled them behind her back.
She struck out with another kick but was jerked back and missed her mark. A furtive glance at Tino squeezed her chest. He’d been subdued and tied. His eyes though dull with pain, sparked with anger.
“Let the woman go. You have no need—” The man next to Tino slammed a gun butt into his head and shoved him into the boat, pushing the boat out into the river.
“No!” Fear and rage flared. She struggled to get free of the man’s hold. All her frustration pumped into the foot she slammed down on her assailant’s instep. His hands loosened, and she lunged forward, racing for the river and the boat drifting in the current. Something caught her behind her knees and she toppled forward.
“Tie her hands and feet and bring her, quickly.”
Don Miguel’s voice grated on her nerves. She wished the man all kinds of torture for what he did to Tino.
“Let me go. I’m of no use to you.” She struggled, giving the men trying to tie her fits. Don Miguel didn’t want her hurt so she could retaliate without fear.
“The moon is nearly full. You will be my guest at a ceremony in two nights.” He snapped his fingers, and the men picked her up, carrying her like a log on their shoulders.
She wiggled, trying to toss them off balance.
“Dr. Mumphrey, I suggest you remain still or I will allow my men to carry you in a less modest way.” Don Miguel plucked at one of her vest buttons. “I am sure the mosquitoes would enjoy your sweet blood from your more delicate places.”
She shivered at the thought of being carried naked and having the mosquitoes feast on her body. Not to mention, if she were disrobed, she would lose sight of her vest.
Isabella’s thoughts flew to Tino. Could he get loose from the rope before the current carried him miles downriver? Even if he managed to free himself, he had no idea where they were taking her. She cursed at having not been more vigilant. Even though the threat of the narcos was gone, they’d known don Miguel remained in the area.
Her body swayed to the gait of the men. They stopped, placing her on the ground, and don Miguel held a canteen of water to her lips. She refused to drink. Not knowing if the water was purified, she refused to risk stomach complications.
“You will be dehydrated if you do not drink.” Don Miguel offered the canteen once again after he’d slurped on the opening.
“I’ll take my chances.” The jungle grew gloomier and the birds’ songs and squawks became more subdued. They continued on as the humid air grew heavier, signaling the afternoon rain would soon descend. Perhaps that would slow them down. At least she might get some clean water to drink.
Her shoulders ached from her arms being bound behind her back. She smiled, noticing the man carrying her legs hobbled from her kick. His injury kept them at a slow pace.
They struggled up an incline as the rain poured from the sky. The thick canopy of the trees stopped the direct onslaught, still enough water poured to nearly drown her since her face pointed to the sky. She welcomed the rain and that don Miguel barked a command to find shelter.
She had to find a way to mark her trail. Tino would get loose, and he’d find her. But would he arrive before the full moon?