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“Whoa,” he said, opening his eyes as she pulled her hand away. He looked at Suki in wonderment. Then at Lund.
“I’m better,” he whispered in shock.
“You feel better?” Lund asked hopefully.
“No, I’m better. Like . . . completely better. Like . . . I haven’t felt this good since . . . well, better not say that here.” He swung his legs off the edge of the bed. Then he started ripping off the IV tape and pulled the needles out of his arms. The alarms went off.
Suki backed away, smiling in surprise.
Then he got off the bed and dropped to a low squat, holding both his arms out. His leg had had a compound fracture. It shouldn’t have been able to support his weight at all.
“Dude!” Lucas and Brillante gasped simultaneously.
Jane Louise grinned.
Lund watched, seemingly stunned into silence, as Jordan began ripping the bandages off his hand. “Seriously, I could do the Tough Mudder, like, right now,” he exclaimed. He was partway through his leg bandage when a nurse came in and gaped.
“What are you doing out of bed?” she said. “How are you even standing!”
Jordan stopped, looked pleadingly at Suki. “Can you . . . can you heal Monica too?”
Suki still felt pretty fresh. With the three of them working together, it had been easy. “I’m pretty sure we can.”
“Better put on your clothes first,” Lucas suggested. “Your butt’s hanging out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JAGUAR TEMPLE
CALAKMUL BIOSPHERE RESERVE
January 10
He should have just let Angélica die in Bozeman. Instead, he’d given her power over him, and she’d betrayed him.
Jacob paced in a circle on the stone platform in the middle of the sacred cenote beneath the palace. The waters were a deep turquoise color, made so by their purity and the thousands of jade stones that covered the floor beneath the water. Larger pieces, some as big as a dish, had been stacked around a stone circle in the middle of the cenote. A bridge made of stone and mortar connected to the staircase leading back to his private chamber. The walls were irregular and thick with hanging stalactites. A shaft of light came from above, a series of glyphs carved in the ceiling so that it was light night and day. It was his private bathing chamber. He’d only recently begun to allow Angélica to meet him there.
He heard the scuff of her bare feet on the steps. His feelings of anger and disappointment were too powerful to endure. She’d hurt him, badly, and not just with her own betrayal. Uacmitun had revolted against Jacob because of her. Others might be tempted to do the same, knowing she’d been to Aztlán. He could not rule his new world if he was always wondering who might stab him in the back with a jagged obsidian dagger.
He paused in the center of the circular platform, his back to the bridge and the stairs, then squatted down low, as if observing something on the ground. He didn’t want her to see the look on his face. Not yet.
He flexed his hands and then closed them into fists, tensing his muscles until they quivered before relaxing them. One deep breath. Then another.
“Jacob?”
It was her voice. There was a note of caution in it. He was supposed to be mingling with the guests at the temple, preparing them for the sacrifices that would begin later. He straightened, wearing the ceremonial garb of his office, master of the Kowinem. He would preside over the sacrifices as he had before. But there was one sacrifice he had to make first.
“Come to me,” he said, trying to keep his voice composed so as not to reveal himself or his intentions.
He heard the tread of her bare feet against the stones of the bridge. The turquoise waters lapped against the stones. It was only eighteen inches or so deep. Similar to the Roman baths of old. Thoughts of Nero had been on his mind because of Mr. Roth. He wanted to smash the author in the face.
Angélica touched his shoulder, and he turned his head. Her revealing Maya dress was provocative, and so was the colorful golden jewelry she wore. Gifts from him. The ink on her cheeks and arms was expertly done. She stroked the curve of his shoulder with her finger.
“Do you want me . . . again?” she asked huskily.
That was the torment of it. He did want her. Even after she’d betrayed him. His pulse quickened, and the throb of desire struck him forcibly. She had power over him, and she knew it. It was time to break that power.
“No,” he said, shaking his head.