Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Luna
We unloaded our equipment in tense silence, keeping an eye out for more crocodiles.
Eduardo helped transfer the last of our supplies to shore, then he retreated to his boat with obvious relief. As he prepared to depart, he hesitated, then approached me with something clutched in his fist.
“For luck,” he said, pressing a small object into my palm. “My grandmother was curandera. She made this protection charm from bones of animals that died naturally. No killing, no suffering. The Queen respects such offerings.”
I opened my hand to reveal a small pendant carved from bone, depicting a wolf with its head thrown back in a silent howl.
“Thank you,” I said, forgiving him a little.
For now.
Eduardo nodded once then returned to his boat. The motor sputtered to life, and within moments he had disappeared back the way we’d come, leaving us alone on the muddy bank with our equipment and the watchful silence of the jungle.
“Well,” I said, slipping the bone pendant onto the same cord as Theo’s amulet, “this is a promising start.”
Damien scanned the tree line, his posture tense. Despite his weakened state, there was something undeniably commanding about him, like an ancient predator assessing new territory.
He moved to shoulder both our packs. When I started to protest, he fixed me with a look. “While I still have strength, I’ll use it. That may change soon enough.”
His stark honesty was more alarming than any complaint would have been.
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t waste energy playing the chivalrous pack mule,” I argued, grabbing my own bag before he could stop me. “Save your strength for when we really need it.”
For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then he sighed. “Fine.”
I blinked. “That’s it? No argument about how you’re three centuries older than me and know better than I do?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Would you prefer that?”
“No, I’d prefer honesty. Are you sure you’re okay to go on? Maybe we should camp here, let you adjust to the boundary’s effects first.”
His eyes met mine, something fierce burning in their blue depths.
“There are people counting on us. On both of us, your family and mine. Every hour we delay could be critical. I won’t allow my discomfort to jeopardize their chances.
Besides, I’ve survived far worse than a dead queen’s lingering spells. ”
That loaded declaration struck me hard. Damien clearly cared deeply for his maker. And the fact that he’d included my family in the same breath…
“Right,” I managed, adjusting my pack.
“The path should be this way.”
I peered into the dense foliage. “Uh, what path?”
Damien pointed to subtle markings on certain trees, old notches grown over but still visible to observant eyes.
“The smuggler’s route. They’ve been using these trails for centuries.
I spent some time tracking a particular blood trafficker through Panama in the 1890s. The routes haven’t changed much.”
“Blood trafficking… Well, I learn something new every day. What is it you do when you’re not masquerading or walking into jungle death traps with me?”
“My line of work, you mean?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“You hunt down artifacts. I hunt down people.”
“Like a private investigator hunts down people?”
He opened his mouth and then paused as though considering what I’d said. “Accurate assessment, yes.”
We pushed into the jungle, the air closing around us like a physical presence—hot, damp, and vibrating with unseen life. Despite the oppressive heat, I shivered as we crossed another invisible threshold. The amulet at my neck pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.
“You feel it too?” Damien asked.
I nodded. “Like we’re being assessed. Theo mentioned the boundary wards would determine if we’re threats.”
For nearly an hour we followed the faint trail, both of us hacking through areas where vegetation had reclaimed the path with our machetes.
The deeper we ventured, the more I noticed subtle changes in our surroundings.
The plants here were not like those we’d passed earlier, their colors more intense, their structures altered, as if evolving along a different path.
Birds with impossible plumage watched us from branches, and once I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a snake with too many heads slithering into the undergrowth.
“The boundary between worlds is thin here,” I murmured, recalling Eduardo’s words.
Damien didn’t respond. When I turned to check on him, I found him braced against a tree trunk, sweat drenching his shirt and his normally perfect posture slouched.
“Damien?” I moved quickly to his side.
He straightened with visible effort, a flash of annoyance crossing his features, though whether at his own weakness or my concern, I couldn’t tell.
“The Wolf Queen was thorough,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “Her magic is more potent than I anticipated.”
“Is it getting worse?”
“With every step.” His honesty surprised me yet again.
“Can we counter it somehow?”
He shook his head. “Not unless you happen to have the ability to rewrite centuries-old spells woven into every living thing around us.”
“Fresh out of that ability, unfortunately.” I studied him while I retrieved a water bottle from my pack. “How bad is it going to get?”
Damien exhaled, clearly weighing how much to reveal. “My strength and speed are already diminishing. Soon my enhanced senses will follow. Eventually, I’ll be—“
“Human?” I suggested, offering him some water.
“Vulnerable,” he corrected, shaking his head at the bottle. “And a liability rather than an asset to this expedition.”
“Meaning you’ll be more like me? The horror.” I took a long draw of water.
“Meaning I won’t be able to protect us as effectively if we encounter threats. Which, given our location, is certain.”
The admission—that he saw his role as protective—lifted my eyebrows.
I remembered the good old days when our partnership was purely transactional: my tomb-raiding skills for his financing and connections.
How had we gone from that to “so engaged that we could never take off our damn rings” to protective and stupid fluttery feelings so quickly?
“Well.” I cleared my throat and nudged his arm. “Good thing you’ve got me, then. I’ve been surviving without supernatural powers for years.”
“Yes, you’re right,” he said. “How do you sound so positive about it?”
“Because I’m not dead.” I took another swig and wiped my chin with the back of my hand. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Only you could make me laugh in a situation like this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved away the comment while I stashed the bottle into my pack once more. “We’ve established I’m a unicorn. Now start walking before I have to carry you.”
We continued in silence, the path gradually sloping upward as we moved away from the river. The jungle grew denser, forcing us to take turns clearing the way with machetes. Despite his weakened state, Damien’s cuts were still precise and powerful, though he was pacing himself.
By late afternoon, we reached a small clearing dominated by a massive ceiba tree. Its trunk was wider than a car, with enormous buttressing roots creating natural alcoves around its base. The canopy spread at least a hundred feet overhead, casting the clearing in green-tinted shadows.
“We should rest here,” I said, noting the increasingly labored quality of Damien’s movements. “The light will be gone soon anyway.”
He looked ready to argue, his jaw tightening in that now-familiar expression of stubborn determination. But then he nodded. “Fine. Travel at night doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
“Especially with my human eyes,” I said.
We established a basic camp in one of the root alcoves, without a fire since it would draw both human smugglers’ and supernatural attention. As I unpacked our supplies, Damien prowled the perimeter of the clearing, setting up small devices that beeped as they activated.
“Motion sensors?” I asked when he returned.
“And other security measures.” He leaned against the root wall opposite me, his movements betraying more fatigue than I’d seen from him before.
Despite this, he maintained a vigilant posture, scanning our surroundings.
“You should drink something,” I said, nodding toward the specialized containers in his pack.
Not like I’d been snooping, but I’d noticed them and had tactfully avoided commenting.
His expression tightened. “I can wait.”
“For what? Until you’re too weak to be useful?” I crossed my arms. “That’s not happening on my watch. Whatever you need to do, do it.”
He studied me for a long moment, something complex passing behind his eyes. “Most humans are disturbed by our feeding habits.”
“I’m not most humans, and we’ve already established that I’m not easily disturbed.” I turned away to give him privacy, occupying myself with checking our coordinates against Theo’s map. “Do what you need to do to keep functioning.”
After a moment’s silence, I heard him retrieving something from his pack.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ll be quick.”
According to our position, we were about three days from the crypt’s location, assuming direct travel, which rarely happened in terrain like this. I traced other potential routes with my finger, considering natural barriers and likely areas for the boundary protections Theo had warned us about.
“If we follow this ridgeline,” I said without turning, holding up the map and tapping it, “we might save half a day’s travel.”
“The elevation would provide better visibility as well,” Damien said, his voice already sounding stronger. “You can turn around now, Luna.”
I turned back, noting with satisfaction that some of his color had returned, which wasn’t saying much, but still. He looked better. Stronger. More him.
And then I realized I was staring.
Damn it.
He gestured toward my pack. “You should eat something as well.”
I nodded, my head bobbing jerkily while my cheeks flamed. I ate a protein bar while he studied the map. Darkness descended with tropical swiftness, bringing with it an orchestra of nocturnal sounds—insects, frogs, and occasionally, the distant roar of something much, much larger.
As I settled into my sleeping bag atop my foldout cot, I asked, “Do you need to sleep at all?”
“Less than humans, but yes.” His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness. “I’ll take first watch though. Rest while you can.”
I should have argued, insisted on taking first watch myself, but the day’s trek had taken more from me than I wanted to admit. The jungle’s heat, the constant vigilance, and perhaps something about the Wolf Queen’s magic had left me bone tired.
“Wake me in four hours,” I murmured, already feeling consciousness slipping away.
In my dreams, I ran on four paws through moonlit jungle paths, a sensation I hadn’t experienced in years. The freedom of my wolf form, lost to me since my dad’s banishing ritual felt so real, the scents sharper, the sounds clearer, my body powerful and sure as it navigated the forest floor.
Ahead, a larger wolf waited, its coat silver in the moonlight, its eyes ancient with knowing.
Welcome home, it seemed to say without words. I’ve been waiting for you.