“What is this place?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“Shut up and follow me. Keep quiet and for God sakes don’t touch anything.”
Libby shot Frank a puzzled look, but obediently followed him as he began to pick his way around the large boulders and moved toward the side of the steep cliff. The malevolent feeling continued to follow her, and she shivered with cold. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was now soaking wet from the water in the air or because she knew there was something there.
Watching her. Waiting.
Anger surged and rushed from her belly up to her heart, and she began to walk with purpose, her head held high. Her entire frame hummed with repressed energy, and the adrenaline rush warmed her skin.
Frank continued to climb, and she followed suit. They reached a ledge, and now that she was closer she could see an entrance to a cave behind the cascading buckets of water. Frank looked back and motioned her forward.
She snickered silently. Coward! Pushing her way past him, she carefully picked a path over an extremely slippery rock face. The spray of mist drenched her even more, but she welcomed the purity of its wetness.
As she moved deeper past the edge, she could see a large opening about ten feet ahead. Within seconds they were both inside the cave. It took a few more moments for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, she had no problem seeing clearly. An eerie glow lit the entire area, which consisted of a smallish entrance with a large passageway beckoning to the right.
Frank pushed her roughly from behind, and Libby gritted her teeth, her fingers itching to pull the gun from her side and put a bullet between his eyes. She stumbled forward and entered the passage, glancing around as she made her way deeper into the cave.
What she saw stunned her.
The rock walls were covered in an intricate series of paintings and pictures that she recognized as N’ahuatl, the language of the Aztecs. She was sure of it. She’d seen many artifacts with similar type etchings in Jaxon’s home. She frowned at that, thinking it didn’t make sense. The Aztecs had lived and flourished in Mexico, as least according to Jaxon.
Why was there evidence of Aztecs so far south, in Belize? An uneasy lump formed deep in her gut, and as she continued along, she felt as if she were being allowed to witness a small piece of a very large puzzle. One that had fragmented, with certain key elements remaining elusive.
One overwhelming theme was evident. Most of the drawings depicted large black jaguars and equally large, impressive eagles. They seemed to be at war among each other, and at the center of all of it, a large dark disc appeared to be the prize.
Libby’s attention to the wall quickly fled as the soft glow sharpened. Up ahead she could see that the narrow passage opened up, widening into a much larger room.
As she stepped into the cavern, she was indeed in awe. To say this room was larger would have been a gross understatement. She looked around, her face incredulous as the sheer size of the cavern rose up in front of her eyes. She cranked her head back and calculated the ceiling at well over five hundred feet.
In the middle of the space a huge well of water rippled smoothly as it slid by and disappeared beneath the ground, most likely joining the rush of water that raced down the side of the cliff. Beneath the liquid glass, a beam of soft green shone through, and the entire area was lit in a hazy, luminescent swath of light.
She noted several passageways that jutted out from the large cavern, going God knows where, and as she continued to study the area, she couldn’t help but shiver again. The feeling of blackness that she’d experienced earlier flew at her in a rush, and her eyes frantically tried to find the source. Something evil was here.
And it wanted her.
Frank remained quiet and stood still a few feet away from her, his posture nervous and submissive.
A sound to the right startled them both, and she heard Frank curse behind her as a large bulky man made his way into the cavern. He was tall, his chest bare, the tattoos that proclaimed him a warrior evident as he walked toward them. The man was a wall of muscle, and the sneer that graced his mouth went along with the arrogance that fell from him in waves.
He was not someone to be messed with.
He stopped a few feet from them before Libby recognized him. He had been at the DaCosta compound more than once while she was imprisoned there.
“He’s waiting. You are to leave and not return until he contacts you, Frank.” The large man had a deep, lifeless voice, and his eyes were cruel, devoid of any feeling. He nodded toward her, indicating that she follow him, but Frank had his own ideas.
“Carlos, that was not the plan and you know it. How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re not trying to take the prize that is mine by right?” Frank’s belligerence grew as his confidence began to simmer once more. “You’ve always wanted to be a true DaCosta, but you’ll never be more then what you are. A warrior for hire.”
Frank spat at the ground and while his focus remained on the warrior slowly closing the
small gap between them, Libby began to inch away toward the nearest passage, Frank’s whine echoing along the limestone cavern.
“He asked me to bring him the blonde, and it will be me who delivers the bitch straight into his arms.”
The approaching warrior roared his displeasure and suddenly charged. Libby leapt out of the way and watched in disbelief as he began to transform into his jaguar form. Frank began to shift as well, but she wasn’t planning on watching the fireworks. She took off at a run and headed straight toward the opening. It was only a few feet away, and she disappeared through it without a glance back.
There, the air felt thick, and it was darker. The sounds of battle ceased as a bloodcurdling scream rent the air. Libby stopped, her chest heaving and heart pounding nearly out of her chest. She found herself drawn back to where she’d just come from, as if an invisible string was pulling at her, and the macabre display there almost brought her to her knees.
She crept forward, not even pretending to have control over her impulses, felt the blood draining from her face at the sight that greeted her.