Obsidian Butterfly (ab-9) (61 page)

I'd read enough of the conquest of Mexico by the Spanish to doubt that Christ had much to do with it, no matter how many things had been done in His name. "Don't blame Jesus Christ for what the Spanish did to your people. Our God gave us free choice, and that means we can choose evil. I believe that that's what happened to the men who conquered your people."

He looked down at me, and he was puzzled again. "You believe that. I can tell you believe that."

"With all my heart," I said. "No pun intended."

He sat up, sitting across my waist. "Most of the people I have taken as offerings did not believe in much of anything. The ones who did believe, did not believe in your white Christ." He touched my face. "But you do."

"Yeah," I said.

"How can you believe in a god that would allow you to be brought to this place and sacrificed to a foreign god?"

"If you only believe when it's easy, you don't really believe," I said.

"Is it not ironic that you, a follower of the God that destroyed us, will be what allows me to come into my power. When I have taken your essence, I will be strong enough to make the precious liquid, and I will be free of this place at last."

"What do you mean, take my essence?" I'd stopped being afraid because we'd just been talking so long, or maybe I just can't sustain fear for that long. Eventually, if you don't kill me or hurt me, I stop being afraid.

"I will but kiss you and you will become as light and dry as the aged maize. You will feed me as the corn feeds men." He began to lie down beside me on my right side, near my free hand.

I was suddenly scared again. I hoped I was wrong, but I was pretty sure I'd already seen what he meant to do to me at the Obsidian Butterfly. "You mean you'll suck the life out of me and I'll end up looking like a dried mummy."

He stroked a finger down my cheek, his eyes sad now, regretful. "It will hurt a great deal, and I am sorry for that, but even your pain will go to strengthen me." He leaned his face towards mine. I had a free hand and a knife in my pocket, but if I went for it too soon and failed, I was out of options. Where the hell was Ramirez?

"You're going to torture me. Great," I said.

He drew back from me, just a little. "It is not torture. It is the way all my priests waited for my waking."

"Who brought your priests back?" I asked.

"I wakened Tlaloci, but I was weak and I had no more blood to give the others. Then before we could raise the others the man you call Riker disturbed our place of rest." He stared off into space, as if he were seeing it over again. "He found what you called the mummies of my priests. Many were torn apart by his men, searching for jewels inside them." Anger darkened his face, stole the peacefulness from his eyes. "The Quetzalcoatl was not yet awake or we would have killed them all. They took things that belonged to my priests. It forced me to find a different way to give them back their lives."

"The skins," I said.

He looked
down
at me. "Yes, there are ways to make them give life."

"So you hunted down the people who desecrated your ... sleeping place, and the people who bought the things that belonged to your people."

"Yes," he said.

I guess from a certain point of view it was fair. If you had no ability to feel mercy, then it was a dandy plan. "You killed and took the organs from the people who were gifted," I said.

"Gifted?" he made it a question.

"Witches, brujos."

"Ah, yes, I did not wish to leave them alive to hunt us before I came into my power." He was touching my face again, stroking it. I think he was getting back on track to give me his "kiss".

"What exactly does coming into your power mean?" I asked. As long as I could keep him talking, he wouldn't be killing me. I could think of questions all night long.

"I will be mortal and immortal."

I widened eyes at him. "What do you mean mortal?"

"Your blood will make me mortal. Your essence will make me immortal."

I frowned at him. "I don't understand what you mean."

He cupped my face in his hands like a lover. "How could you possibly understand the ways of gods." He held out his hand, and the skin-man handed him a long bone needle. Maybe I didn't know what he was going to do.

"What's that for?"

He held the needle, maybe four inches long, twirling it slowly between his fingers. "I will pierce your ear lobe and drink your blood. It will be a small pain."

"You keep saying you want me to believe in you, but you're the only one who never seems to be in pain. Your priests, the people who stole from you, all the sacrifices, everybody hurts but you."

He propped himself up on one elbow, his body snug against mine. "If my pain will convince you of my sincerity, then so be it." He jabbed the needle into his finger, deep, deep enough to touch bone. He drew the needle out slowly, making it hurt as much as he could. I waited for blood to come to the surface, but it didn't. He held the finger so I could see the hole the needle had left, but the hole was empty, no blood. As I watched, the wound closed like water smoothing, perfect once more. The knife wasn't going to do me any good, not against him.

"Does my pain make your pain less?" he asked.

"I'll let you know," I said.

He smiled, so patient, so kind. So full of it. He started moving the needle towards my left ear. I could have fought him with my free hand, but if all he was going to do was pierce my earlobe like I'd seen at the nightclub, then he could do that. I didn't like the idea, but I wasn't going to fight him. If I fought now, they might chain my hand back up. I wanted the free hand more than I wanted to keep him from sucking on my ear.

Truth is, I don't like needles, not just doctor needles, any of them. I have a phobia about small pointed things in my body. Knives don't seem to bother me, but needles do. Go figure. It was a phobia. To keep from struggling, I finally had to close my eyes because otherwise I'd have fought. I just couldn't help it.

The pain was sharp and immediate. I gasped opening my eyes, watching his face lean over me. For a second I thought I'd blown it. I thought he was going straight to the kiss, then his mouth passed by my mouth. He turned my face to the right, gently, exposing the ear, and the long line of my neck. It reminded me of vampires, except that this mouth licked my ear, one quick movement. He made a small sigh, as he swallowed the first blood, then his mouth closed over my earlobe, mouth working at the wound, tongue coaxing blood from the wound. He pressed his body the length of mine, one hand cupping my turned head, the other playing down the line of my body. Maybe it was just blood, but I never stroked my steak while I was eating it.

The line of his jaw was pressed to my face. I could feel his mouth moving as he swallowed. I'd had vampires take blood without me being under their spell, so it had hurt. This didn't hurt nearly as much. It was more like an overzealous lover with an ear fetish. Disturbing, but not really painful. His hand moved from my face to slide inside my bra. That I didn't like.

"I thought you said you weren't offering sex."

He drew his hand out of my bra and drew back from my ear. His eyes were wide and unfocused and drowning in turquoise glow like the eyes of any vampire when its bloodlust is up. "Forgive me," he said, "but it has been so very long since I felt life in my body."

I thought I understood what he meant, but I was asking every question I could think of tonight. Anything to keep him talking. "What do you mean?"

He laughed and rolled on his side to prop himself up on his elbow again. He jabbed the needle into his finger again, and gasped. Blood welled up from the wound, crimson blood. He laughed again. "Your blood runs through my body, and I am mortal once more, with all the appetites of a mortal man."

"You need blood to have blood pressure," I said. "You've got your first hard on in centuries. I get it."

He looked down at me with drowning eyes. "You could have it." He moved so that his body was pressed against mine, and I could feel him pressed against my jeans, eager, and ready.

I started to say my usual, no, then stopped. If my choices were being raped or being killed, when I thought that help was on the way ... I debated, and I really don't know what I would have said, because another of the skin-men ran in from behind us where the silent flayed ones waited.

I heard the man's running footsteps and turned to watch him push his way through the flayed ones. He dropped to one knee in front of the Red Woman's Husband. "My lord, armed strangers are approaching. The little brujo is with them, leading them this way."

The Red Woman's Husband looked at him. "Kill them. Delay them. When I have come into my power, it will be too late."

The skin-men got weapons out of a chest and went running. I turned my head to watch the flayed ones trail after them. Only Tlaloci the priest stayed behind. It was just the three of us. Ramirez was coming. The police were coming. Surely, I could delay a few more minutes.

Fingers touched my face, moving me to look at him. "You could have been the first woman in centuries for me, but there is no time." He began to lower his face towards me. "I am sorry that I must take you as an unwilling sacrifice because you have not harmed me or mine."

I slipped my hand into my pocket. Fingers closed on the pen. I turned my head to the side so he couldn't kiss me, but I was really looking to see where Tlaloci was in the room. He'd moved back to the altar. He'd thrown Paulina's body off to one side like so much garbage. He was cleaning the altar, preparing I think for his god's death.

The Red Woman's Husband stroked my face, trying to turn me gently towards him. He whispered, breath warm against my face. "I will wear your heart on the necklace of tongues, so that all my followers may remember your sacrifice for all eternity."

"How romantic," I said. I started easing the pen out of my pocket.

"Turn to me, Anita. Do not make me hurt you." His fingers closed on my chin and began to turn my face slowly towards his. I felt his strength in his fingers and knew he could crush my jaw with only a flexing of his hand. I couldn't keep him from turning my face up to him. I couldn't stop it, but I had the pen in my hand now. I had my finger on the button that would release the blade. I just had to make sure it was over his heart.

Gunfire sounded from outside the cave, and it sounded close as if the entrance wasn't that far away. Then there was a sound like a roaring, and I knew what it was because I'd heard it before. The police had brought flame-throwers or found some National Guard to join the party. I wondered whose idea it had been. It was a good one. I hoped they all burned.

I stared up at him, his fingers keeping my face looking at him. "Does your heart really beat for me?" I asked.

"My heart beats. Blood runs through this body. You have given me life, and now you will give me immortality."

The Red Woman's Husband leaned over me like Prince Charming about to bestow the kiss that would make everything all right again. His mouth hovered an inch above mine. The memory of how Seth's body had dried, died, was too vivid. I must have rushed to get the pen in position just above his heart. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, eyes questioning. I hit the button, and the blade took him through the heart.

His eyes flew wide, all that turquoise fire fading, leaving his eyes human looking. "What have you done?"

"You're just another kind of vampire. I kill vampires."

He rolled off the stone, fell to the floor. He held a hand out to Tlaloci. The priest rushed over to him. I didn't wait to see if there was a cure for the "god." I undid my left wrist and reached down for my ankles.

The Red Woman's Husband collapsed to his knees, and the priest collapsed with him. He was crying. "No, no, no." He pressed his hands around the hilt, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. His "god" fell into convulsions on the floor. He tried to hold his hands over the wound, to staunch the blood.

I got my ankles freed and rolled off to the other side of the stone. Call it a hunch, but I thought that Tlaloci would be upset with me.

He rose to his feet, bloodstained hands held out in front of him. I'd never seen anyone look so horrified, so desolate, as if I had destroyed his world. And maybe I had.

He never said a word, just drew the obsidian blade at his waist and stalked towards me. But the rock I'd been chained to was the size of a large dining room table, and I kept it between him and me. I kept the distance between us even, and he couldn't catch me. The gunfire was coming closer. He must have heard it, too, because he suddenly rolled over the stone to slash at me with the knife. I ran away from the stone, out into the open, which was what he wanted.

I turned and faced him. He came for me in a crouch, knife held loose but firm, as if he knew what he was doing. I'd left the blade in the vampire. I faced him hands out from my body, not sure what to do, except not get cut. I thought of one thing. I screamed, "Ramirez!"

Tlaloci rushed me, blade slashing. I turned, feeling the rush of air as the blade passed. There were screams from the stairs, the sounds of in-close fighting. Tlaloci slashed at me like a madman. All I could do was keep backing up, trying to stay out of reach. I was bleeding from both arms, and one cut on my upper chest, when I realized he'd backed me up by the altar.

I tripped over Paulina's body about the second I started looking for it, to avoid it. I went down on my side, her body trapped under my legs. I kicked out at him without looking to see where he was, anything to keep him at a distance.

He grabbed my ankle, pinning my leg against his body. We stared at each other, and I saw my death in his face. He tossed the knife one-handed so that the grip changed from slashing, to a downward stab. He had my left leg pinned, but my right leg was still on the floor. I braced my upper body with my arms, leaned my shoulders downward and drew back my right leg. I lined up his kneecap. Tlaloci started the downward stroke. I kicked the downward edge of his kneecap with everything I had. I saw the kneecap slide sideways, dislocated. His leg crumbled, he cried out in pain, but the blade kept coming.