metal. Such a small, yet significant piece to an ancient puzzle that could change Earth’s future.
She touched the bracelet that would take her home. If she was half as mission-focused as she’d been when she’d set out on this journey, she’d touch the bracelet and take the medallion forward in time to the lab in Arizona.
As a powerful man, Gunnar was fully capable of taking care of himself, and Imac had promised to release him. What else kept Marisol from completing her mission?
Nothing.
Everything.
Marisol slipped the medallion over her head and tucked it beneath the collar of her dress, having made her decision.
Gunnar blinked to clear the darkness from his eyes. He pushed up on his arms, the cold stone beneath him not that of his chambers in Pachacuti’s palace. Where was he? How long had he been unconscious?
A dark-haired woman with bright green eyes filled his memory and he shot to his feet.
Marisol. Where was Marisol?
Gunnar raced to the wooden door to his stone cell and pounded against its rough-hewn surface. The ground shook beneath him, dust falling from the ceiling. Trapped, frustrated and angry, he clenched his fists and shouted at the ceiling, his voice echoing off solid stone.
After a while he ceased and leaned his head against the door.
The long bar on the other side slid sideways.
His muscles tense, Gunnar stood to the side of the door, ready to pounce on whoever was on the other side and escape.
As the door swung open, Gunnar waited until he could leap out into the hallway at the figure standing in the shadows, coming up short when he realized the figure was that of a woman. A naked, beautiful woman. Pachacuti’s lover, Imac.
He grabbed her throat, searing anger raging through him. “Where is Marisol?”
She clawed at his fingers, her face turning red. “I…can’t…talk,” she gasped, her eyes bulging.
Gunnar released the pressure but not his hands. “Where is she?”
Imac drew in a deep breath. “She’s in a cell on the other side of the compound. She sent me to free you.”
For a long moment, he held her neck, then slowly let her go. “Where are we?”
“Machu Picchu.” Imac rubbed at the red marks on her neck. “Come, we must free Marisol before the Machu Picchu shaman sacrifices her. The ceremony has begun.”
His heart skipped several beats then raced on. He left Imac standing near the cell door and ran down the hallway, unsure of his direction, frightened at what awaited Marisol on the temple’s altar.
Shifting to a jaguar, Imac caught up, slipping past him to lead the way out of the catacombs. When Gunnar emerged, he found himself at the base of the grand altar.
Inca nobles, warriors and citizens had gathered around the temple, their faces turned up to the altar where the Machu Picchu shaman chanted incantations to Inti.
Gunnar gasped when he saw the long dark hair spilling over the edge of the platform. With no doubt in his mind that the woman lying on the altar was Marisol, he pushed his way through the crowd and leaped up the steps two at a time to the top.
“Stop him!” Kentar appeared beside the shaman on top of the platform.
Eagle warriors raced after Gunnar, too far behind to catch him.
Gunnar reached the top long before they did. He threw the shaman down the steps into the mass of soldiers. Then Gunnar lunged for Kentar, blood flushing over his eyes as rage consumed him.
Kentar stepped up to the altar and laid a knife to Marisol’s throat. “Don’t, or the woman dies.”
“Run, Gunnar. Get away.” With her wrists and ankles tied to the altar, Marisol strained to see him. “Please.”
“I won’t leave without you.”
“So touching.” Kentar pressed the knife blade into Marisol’s skin, beneath the leather strap holding a medallion. “Where did you get this?”
Marisol fought to free her hands. “No. You can’t have it.”
“Leave her alone,” Gunnar roared, fear for Marisol urging him forward.
“I’ve been looking for
She touched the bracelet that would take her home. If she was half as mission-focused as she’d been when she’d set out on this journey, she’d touch the bracelet and take the medallion forward in time to the lab in Arizona.
As a powerful man, Gunnar was fully capable of taking care of himself, and Imac had promised to release him. What else kept Marisol from completing her mission?
Nothing.
Everything.
Marisol slipped the medallion over her head and tucked it beneath the collar of her dress, having made her decision.
Gunnar blinked to clear the darkness from his eyes. He pushed up on his arms, the cold stone beneath him not that of his chambers in Pachacuti’s palace. Where was he? How long had he been unconscious?
A dark-haired woman with bright green eyes filled his memory and he shot to his feet.
Marisol. Where was Marisol?
Gunnar raced to the wooden door to his stone cell and pounded against its rough-hewn surface. The ground shook beneath him, dust falling from the ceiling. Trapped, frustrated and angry, he clenched his fists and shouted at the ceiling, his voice echoing off solid stone.
After a while he ceased and leaned his head against the door.
The long bar on the other side slid sideways.
His muscles tense, Gunnar stood to the side of the door, ready to pounce on whoever was on the other side and escape.
As the door swung open, Gunnar waited until he could leap out into the hallway at the figure standing in the shadows, coming up short when he realized the figure was that of a woman. A naked, beautiful woman. Pachacuti’s lover, Imac.
He grabbed her throat, searing anger raging through him. “Where is Marisol?”
She clawed at his fingers, her face turning red. “I…can’t…talk,” she gasped, her eyes bulging.
Gunnar released the pressure but not his hands. “Where is she?”
Imac drew in a deep breath. “She’s in a cell on the other side of the compound. She sent me to free you.”
For a long moment, he held her neck, then slowly let her go. “Where are we?”
“Machu Picchu.” Imac rubbed at the red marks on her neck. “Come, we must free Marisol before the Machu Picchu shaman sacrifices her. The ceremony has begun.”
His heart skipped several beats then raced on. He left Imac standing near the cell door and ran down the hallway, unsure of his direction, frightened at what awaited Marisol on the temple’s altar.
Shifting to a jaguar, Imac caught up, slipping past him to lead the way out of the catacombs. When Gunnar emerged, he found himself at the base of the grand altar.
Inca nobles, warriors and citizens had gathered around the temple, their faces turned up to the altar where the Machu Picchu shaman chanted incantations to Inti.
Gunnar gasped when he saw the long dark hair spilling over the edge of the platform. With no doubt in his mind that the woman lying on the altar was Marisol, he pushed his way through the crowd and leaped up the steps two at a time to the top.
“Stop him!” Kentar appeared beside the shaman on top of the platform.
Eagle warriors raced after Gunnar, too far behind to catch him.
Gunnar reached the top long before they did. He threw the shaman down the steps into the mass of soldiers. Then Gunnar lunged for Kentar, blood flushing over his eyes as rage consumed him.
Kentar stepped up to the altar and laid a knife to Marisol’s throat. “Don’t, or the woman dies.”
“Run, Gunnar. Get away.” With her wrists and ankles tied to the altar, Marisol strained to see him. “Please.”
“I won’t leave without you.”
“So touching.” Kentar pressed the knife blade into Marisol’s skin, beneath the leather strap holding a medallion. “Where did you get this?”
Marisol fought to free her hands. “No. You can’t have it.”
“Leave her alone,” Gunnar roared, fear for Marisol urging him forward.
“I’ve been looking for
Similar Books
