Chapter Nineteen
“When vultures surround you, try not to die.”
“Did you just come up with that, Parker?” Angélica asked as she led the hike to the sunken ruins, keeping Quint at the front of the pack by her side.
She’d played off wanting him close by saying it was because he was her “loverboy,” as her dad had teased. The truth was she needed to hear what Daisy had told him—or rather, the message from whomever had used Daisy as their microphone.
And after hearing Quint’s recap about him being watched over by the vultures, along with a warning about something waiting in the great darkness, a ritual, and potential sacrifices, Angélica was scratching her head even more.
Who in the hell was delivering these warnings if not her mom?
And the part about not descending until Ixchel was in her full glory …
well, Ixchel was the goddess of the moon, so did that mean to wait until the moon was full?
Once she knew the details about Daisy’s channeled message, Angélica then filled him in on what KuTu had prophesied when he’d caught her alone before leaving camp to join the others.
“It’s an old African proverb I once heard on a job,” Quint answered while dodging a low-hanging vine.
“Were you working in Africa?”
She had no idea of all the places he’d traveled, something she wanted to learn about after they returned to Cancun.
If they returned.
No, she was not going to think that way.
They would make it home safe and sound, and then she would dig in and try to immerse herself in his world as much as he’d done in the Maya civilization.
If this relationship was going to make it—and she really wanted to build a love as strong and lasting as what her parents had shared—it needed to be a two-way street.
“Actually, I was in Everglades National Park at the time. An old park ranger said it when we saw several vultures circling overhead, and the words stuck with me ever since.”
“Wise words.” She glanced back to check on the others.
Behind them, Daisy walked alongside Angélica’s father.
She’d claimed to want to keep an eye on him and his ankle, which he didn’t seem to mind at all.
Never mind that he’d given Angélica nothing but trouble for “coddling” him after leaving camp, telling her she needed to find something to obsess over besides her “dear old dad.”
Angélica had been in the midst of bickering with her father about who was the more hardheaded of the two when she’d caught sight of the king vultures gathering around Quint. The scene was just as KuTu had foretold not a half hour before.
“Did KuTu know how many of the vultures would show up?” Quint asked quietly, walking so close to her they were bumping shoulders now and then. “Or was he just spit-balling his prophecy?”
“He was off by one,” she told him, double-checking that the others were far enough away not to hear.
Esteban was about twenty feet back, swatting at bugs as he walked, although not as wildly as Dr. Fernel had yesterday.
Bronko followed next, his focus shifting to the left and right of the trail, lingering now and then on the shadowy jungle.
Once a sicario, always a sicario, she thought, gazing beyond him to where her father and Daisy were lagging in spite of his insistence that Angélica was not to slow the pace due to his ankle.
Raul was acting as a third amigo, playing tour guide by pointing out plants and their purposes along the way.
At the rear was KuTu, who kept peering up at the king vultures circling over their heads, his expression unreadable.
But Angélica had an idea what was on his mind.
It started with Quint and ended with this site not being what it seemed on the surface—which was some kind of prison or cult-like sacred site or …
hell, she didn’t know. Maybe today would finally deliver some answers.
If not, she would just have Quint ask his damned vulture buddies.
“It’s like I told you after we ascended the wall,” she said. “KuTu claimed that according to his dream, you’d be visited by thirteen king vultures that were carrying a message from the Maya gods.”
Quint snorted. “Did I speak in vulture-guese and flap my wings during the conversation?”
In spite of the unease still spinning in her gut about the sight of all those vultures focused on Quint, Angélica grinned. “Probably, in between preening and showing off your tail feathers.”
“Hey, I only fluff those up for you.” He bumped her shoulder on purpose. “Especially when we’re rubbing beaks.”
“I sure like the size of your caruncle,” she flirted, bumping him back.
“Oh yeah? Wait until you see the wiggle in my wattle next time we’re alone.”
She giggled, but reality quickly returned with its wet blanket in tow.
How had KuTu really known about the gathering of the king vultures?
She’d witnessed his gaze locked onto Quint several times since that first day when they’d come across the pile of skulls and the vulture on the wall.
KuTu had told her then that the Lord of Death sent his messengers to travel with the “tall man.” She was having trouble buying that it was simply a dream.
“Could KuTu understand what I’d been saying to the vultures in his dream?” Quint asked, easing back a step as they weaved through a narrow section under a grove of young sapodilla trees. “Or what the birds were telling me?”
She waited until the path widened enough for him to walk beside her again. “All he said was that the vultures had been sent to act as protectors during the rebirth.”
“Whose rebirth?”
“He didn’t know, but he thought maybe you might have that answer.”
Quint cursed. “Let’s just hope it’s not any of ours.”
“Yeah.” She caught his hand and squeezed it.
“I’m worried about you, Quint. About what all this means.
” She glanced behind again before adding, “I shouldn’t have brought everyone to this place.
If anything happens to you or Dad or anyone else …
” She paused to duck a thorny branch dangling in the way.
“This is all my fault for being so obsessed with honoring Mom’s reputation and trying to elevate it to new heights. ”
“You love her. It makes sense that you want to make the world see how wonderfully smart and amazing she was.”
She sent a smirk his way. “Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you think Mom might be listening in and you want to earn some brownie points?”
He chuckled. “Listen, I get that you have lasting resentment for some of those in the archaeology field who tried to discredit her theories and smudge her reputation. With Marianne gone—well, sort of gone—you and your father are the only ones to take up a sword in her defense.”
“Does that mean you forgive me for lying about needing to cancel our trip due to work?”
“Mostly.” He pulled her his way to avoid a pair of wasps meandering past. “But I do wonder why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you lied.”
“For my mom, like we just discussed.”
“Yeah, I get that part, but why didn’t you tell me the truth about wanting to come here and find evidence to support her theory on the place? I think this goes deeper than that.”
He was right, it did, but now wasn’t the best time to go into that. The ruins were just ahead, and she didn’t want to bare her soul in the middle of the jungle in case tears came leaking out in the process.
“I think you don’t trust me,” he added, letting go of her hand.
“Quint, it’s not—” she started, only to be interrupted by the ruckus of something crashing through the thick vegetation to their right. Something much larger than a lizard or rat, from the sounds of it.
She stopped in her tracks, her heart taking off at a gallop. After the ghost stories of which she’d recently partaken in one way or another, it was a wonder the beating organ in her chest didn’t just keel over in a dead faint.
“What was that?” Quint asked, his machete out as he took a step toward the web of thorny brush and ferns cloaking the ground. “Did you hear any whispering?”
Whispering? What? She caught him by the elbow with both hands and tugged him back away from the brambles. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Then why are you trying to wring out my arm like a wet towel?”
“Sorry.” She let go. “I guess I’m spooked by the vultures and what they might mean.”
“You and me both, boss lady.”
Esteban and Bronko caught up with them.
“What’s going on?” Bronko asked, his hand on the butt of the pistol holstered at his waist.
“We heard something,” Quint said. “It sounded big.”
“Like human big?” Esteban asked, backing up a step.
“It was probably just a cat,” Angélica told him.
Bronko hit her with a squint of disbelief, which was no surprise. Clearly, he knew as well as she did that no other animals besides snakes, birds, and a few lizards had been seen so far inside the wall.
Esteban licked his lips nervously. “How much farther until we reach the ruins?” he asked in Spanish.
“Not more than five or ten more minutes,” she guessed, since they’d already passed the butterfly mound and the patch of dead vegetation.
He nodded quickly, scanning the jungle on both sides of the path. “Bueno. I don’t like the feel of this place.”
“What’s the holdup?” Angélica’s dad called from about twenty feet behind them.
Raul jogged up to where they were congregated. “Everyone okay?”
“They heard something in the brush,” Esteban explained. “Something big. Probably with sharp teeth and spiky claws.”
Angélica turned away so he didn’t see her scowl. The last thing any of their imaginations needed after the king vulture show was a wild notion about a jungle terror.
“Was it a jaguar?” Raul’s face lit up. “I’ve been watching for signs of them.”
“What signs?” Esteban asked, chewing on his knuckle.
“Clawed tree trunks, bits of chewed-up prey, and scat.”
Scanning the surrounding trees, Bronko sniffed a few times. “Have you seen any?”
Raul shook his head.
Daisy caught up. “Did I hear you say you saw a jaguar?”
“No,” Esteban said. “But they heard one.”