Mayan Lover (9 page)

“He’ll never give up, Arka. You
should have let him kill me tonight. He’s going to eventually.
You need to stay away from me, not love me.” Contrary to her
“stay away” words she cleaved to him tighter.

Arka attempted to loosen her arms around his
neck but Gwen squeezed tighter. “Gwen.” His chin rubbed
her hair above her ear. “Look at me.” He loosened her
arms gently and she let him. Gazes connected, he touched his forehead
to hers. “Your husband is dead.” “
I killed him,
Goddess,”
he added through their mind connection.

Oh, God. Horror filled her. Arka had killed John
because of her. He’d spend the rest of his life with blood on
his hands … because of her. He could go to prison …
because of her.
I’m toxic.

“
I was born to protect you, Gwen. I was
put on this earth for you. I will never regret what I did, my love. I
would do it a thousand times over and never have a single regret. It
is my duty … my honor to be your champion. His death was
humane out of consideration of you. He deserved far worse.”
The truth behind his words reflected in his eyes, though the full
declaration didn’t make sense. Gwen focused on the “dead”
part.

“Are you sure he’s … dead?”
The flicker of relief she felt needed to hear him say it out loud.

Arka cupped her cheeks in his hands between the
edge of the mask feeding her oxygen and her ears. “You are a
widow, Gwen.”

Widow.
Would he even know the word
divorce? “I wasn’t married to John… anymore.”
Sure enough he gave her a confused look. His eyes shifted and Gwen
followed his line of sight to two men lifting a black body bag into a
van. Her stomach knotted. It felt surreal. She wiggled from Arka’s
lap, her legs tried to fold underneath her but he caught her. She
tugged the mask from her face. “I have to see … know …
please.”

His brows furled, yet rather than argue he
supported her while she walked the distance. “Señorita…”
one man stood at the back of the open van with his hands up to halt
her.

Gwen set her hand to his forearm. “Sir,
please … he—” She couldn’t think of the
Spanish word for stalked. “Hunted me.” She could hear the
tremor in her voice.

The man glanced past her and opened the zipper.
John’s body had been loaded feet first. He looked like he was
sleeping. Even had a small grin on his face. Her hand shook as she
touched the pulse at his neck. Nothing.
My mother is going to be
pissed
. Gwen’s shaky knees folded, but of course Arka never
let her hit the ground. He carried her a lot, probably thought she
was the weakest female in existent. He couldn’t possibly love
her
. Not after this. He didn’t even really know her.
Once he did …

When she was back in Arka’s arms at the
ambulance with the mask on, Arka finally asked the question she knew
had to be bothering him. “Gwen, what do you mean he ‘hunted’
you?”

“Arka.” Enrique spoke from behind
her. “They need to ask you a few questions. I’ll stay
with her.”

Arka nodded and stood, shifting her to sit in
the door with her feet on the step up into the ambulance. Enrique sat
next to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” He pressed
a kiss to her forehead and joined Maggie with the group of officers.

Enrique cleared his throat. “Can I tell
you something?”

Gwen’s focus was on the group across the
lot. She couldn’t hear what they said, but Maggie’s
animated hand movements were pretty self-explanatory. Arka’s
brows furled and his eyes lifted to hers, slamming home the fact that
her entire history was being laid at his feet. Gwen felt humiliated
“Sure,” she muttered.

“You are without a doubt the bravest woman
I’ve ever known.”

Was he kidding?
The look of admiration on
his face stunned her. “I am not brave, Enrique.”

The look of admiration remained, infused with
sadness. “My two best friends growing up married each other.
For years I didn’t realize he was beating her. I tried to
reason with him, tried to help her leave him. She kept going back
until …” He shook his head. “You did what she
never could.” Gwen’s eyes returned to Maggie. Enrique’s
words shed light on how hard all of this must have been on Maggie,
too.

“Dr. Kramer.” A heavyset Hispanic
man in a suit extended his hand to shake hers in greeting. Enrique
took the offered hand in her stead. “I am Señor Jefez,
commissioner of police. I just spoke with your attorney in the
states. On behalf of Belize, I extend my apologies. Your ex-husband’s
passport was flagged in customs, but we slipped up and missed it.”

Gwen knew Martha had probably threatened to sue
the entire country. “Are my friends being charged with any
crime?”

He seemed shocked by her question. “Of
course not. Señor Arka’s actions were justified
entirely.” Gwen could have sworn he muttered, “well
justified” under his breath. “The only charges are
against Jorge Diez for aiding.” Señor Jefez pointed to a
police car set off from the others.

Gwen saw the tear-streaked face of an older
gentleman staring at her sorrowfully. “Can I speak to him?”

Señor Jefez opened his mouth and Gwen
could tell he wanted to say no, but he nodded and waved his hand, and
an officer led the handcuffed man over. Gwen recognized his loafers
from the alley.

The guy bowed to her over and over. “I
didn’t know. I didn’t know. Please forgive me, señorita.”
She’d heard the same words from him earlier.

Gwen took off the mask and stepped down. “Jorge.
You were used and manipulated by someone who seemed like such a nice
guy.” She, more than anyone, could sympathize.

Jorge nodded rapidly. “Ci’. I called
the police.”

Pity for Jorge consumed her. “I forgive
you. The trick will be learning to forgive yourself.” Horror
dawned on Jorge’s face. “Commissioner, I don’t want
this man charged. He’s a victim, just like me. Drop the
charges, and I assure you I won’t pursue damages against
anyone.”

Just like that the handcuffs were removed. Jorge
knelt at her feet. It reminded her of Arka. Gwen set her hand to the
top of the balding head. “Promise me you will do everything in
your power to help battered women. Dedicate your life to it.”

“I promise,” Jorge pledged. He
thanked her, apologized again, and ran back toward the bar.

It was dawn before
they were allowed to leave. Gwen had never been so exhausted in her
life. The small butterfly bandages where her black and blue throat
had been nicked by the knife stung, and she had a pounding headache.
Every muscle in her body ached from oxygen deprivation. And to top it
off, Arka hadn’t spoken a word to her. Did she disgust him now?
Not that she would blame him. In addition to the other things Maggie
knew about, she must have told the police about finding Gwen tied up,
naked, raped and beaten by her husband two years ago. And Maggie
didn’t know about everything, only her therapist did.

The deluge of rain on the car was the only
sound. They had ridden in complete silence. Arka had taken the
passenger seat, and Gwen’s head rested in Maggie’s lap.
Not once had he looked back at her. She could see his jaw clench and
unclench, and his movements when they hit ruts were stiff and
unnatural. Was he thinking about how rough she’d demanded he
make love to her under the falls? Did he wonder if her penchant for
hard sex was responsible for John turning into a monster? She’d
been haunted by the same thoughts since the first time John had
raised his fist to her. It was part of the reason she’d stayed
with him so long … she felt responsible for encouraging him to
be more aggressive in bed. Maggie’s fingers brushing in her
hair lulled her thoughts enough so she could doze off. Arka was
absent from her dreams. She felt empty, hollow inside.

Hearing the man call Gwen his ‘wife’
had stunned Arka. If he had reacted faster he could have spared her
injury. The new scrapes on her hands and knees, the bruises and small
cut at her throat, even the fear-filled tremor in her voice, were the
result of Arka’s failure to act quicker. Once he realized
killing the man was the only way to protect Gwen, Arka had done what
was necessary in as humane and painless a manner as he knew.

After hearing Maggie ‘s account of the
history between Gwen and her
ex
-husband, Arka wished he could
resurrect the animal and kill him again. Make him suffer and endure a
few moments of violent subjugation. Only a man without honor would
raise a fist to a woman. The level of violence Gwen had suffered
through twisted to a knot of impotent rage in his chest.

Arka was surprised and grateful when Gwen didn’t
rouse from her sleep while he carried her into her trailer and left
her with Maggie. She still felt small and delicate in his arms, but
his view of her had changed. He looked into her angelic face and saw
the fortitude of a survivor. She embodied the strength of a true
goddess. He laid her on her bed and she snuggled into a pillow with a
gentle purr. With his thumb he traced the soft contour of her jaw
line.

He forced his eyes from her to Maggie, who
lifted the outer edge of her lips in a grim, knowing expression.
“She’s tougher that you know, Arka. It’ll be okay.
This wasn’t her first rodeo … thank you for making it
her last.” He didn’t understand all Maggie said, but he
got the sentiment.

“You will stay with my goddess?”
Arka tried to temper the anger from his voice.

Maggie lifted a brow. “Duh. She’s
not leaving my sight, big guy.”

He hated stepping away, but he needed to do
something. Taking one last look at Gwen as Maggie pulled the trailer
door closed, his resolve to get answers solidified. The flap of the
tent he shared with Enrique ripped when he yanked it open. Lifting
the wood slate makeshift flooring up he dug his crystal skull from
the shallow hole where he’d buried it beneath and stuffed it
into a carry bag, his motions stiff with anger.

Ignoring the worried look on Enrique’s
face, he barked, “Guard her with your very life.”

“You have my word, uncle.” Enrique
followed him from the tent and took Arka’s post at Gwen’s
front door despite the light rain.

He’d never doubted his destiny until now.
Never questioned his importance in helping the Goddess of Moonlight
find
her
destiny. What he’d heard tonight filled
him with doubt and fury. Not at her, but at himself. Stalking to the
shore of the pond they’d swam in, he withdrew the skull and set
it to the ground. Legs folded under him, arms extended on either side
of the sacred face, he leaned to touch his forehead to that of the
cool stone and opened his mind. The early morning sun filtered
through the lifting rain clouds and tree leaves to warm his back.

A bright, blinding light added to the vertigo of
rapid movement, then stopped just as abruptly. Arka looked around at
the glowing walls surrounding the chamber. “I expected this
visit, Arka.” A voice boomed from a man as he shimmered and
appeared. He indicated the floor, and Arka could see himself on the
shore in prayer with the stone.

Every time he’d needed the stone in his
youth, it had enlightened his thoughts, given him a sense of purpose,
shown him images a few times. That it was also an astral portal to
the Sun God really didn’t surprise him. It was disrespectful
not to kneel, but Arka was too furious, so he paced. “Do you
know what she’s been through?” he demanded.

To Arka’s surprise, Kinich Ahau didn’t
strike him down. The god matched his pace, pivoted in mirror image
with him. “I’ve seen.”

Arka stopped and faced the yellow-gold eyes. “I
am her protector. Why was I not allowed to protect her? Why was I
barred from her dreams when she needed me most? Why did my Journey
happen too late for me to do my duty to her … to you …
to the Moon Goddess, Ixchel herself?”

Kinich Ahau placed a hot hand to his shoulder.
“The Goddess of Moonlight’s trials could not change when
the merging of your destinies happened, Arka. The energy of the
universe is defined and not subject to humanity. The timing of your
Journey was dictated by universal alignment. Her prior joining was
not divinely sanctioned. It was the result of human fallibilities.
Her union with
you,
Arka, is divinely sanctioned.”

“I could have been there for her in
dream.” He was still angry.
Union with me?
The last part
Kinich said filtered slowly through his rage.

This time Kinich Ahau started pacing. “The
Goddess of Moonlight blocked your dreams, and only she can explain
her reasons. Perhaps she sought to protect you
in her own
way.” He pursed his lips. “I will give you a word of
wisdom. Ixchel is strong, beautiful … and very female. As much
as I love my moon wife, I don’t always understand her. No
matter how desperately I want to protect my wife, some pain will find
a way to her. I’ve come to learn that the greatest protection I
can give is the unwavering haven of my love. I have faith in her
strength and her ability to face any challenge. In return, she
believes in both herself and me. The Goddess of Moonlight does not
need you to question her path to this point, nor does she need you to
hold yourself accountable. She needs you to see beyond it. Love her,
have faith in her, believe in her, enable her to see beyond it
herself. If you can’t, you’re not worthy of her.”

Arka knelt and bowed in homage. “Thank
you, Sun God.” His anger had been replaced by knowledge. Gwen
must have had her reasons, must have believed she would survive
without him. He still hated it, but he could see past it.

Kinich Ahau touched the top of his head. “Claim
your bride and retrieve the skull, my son. The Moon Goddess needs the
daughter born of her essence.”

Claim your bride … my son?
The
term slammed into him as the blinding tunnel sucked him back into his
body. Arka lifted the skull and returned it to the bag reverently.
His steps lighter, he returned to the camp. The woman he'd loved his
entire life was meant to be his mate. Was it possible she loved him,
too? He had to find out.