I Hear Voices(31)
“Me? Why?” The suspicious look on Derek’s face had me frowning. Hadn’t the poor guy ever gotten a gift just for the hell of it?
“Cuz it’ll show off that manly chest of yours.”
Not like the hideous purple and red shirt he wore now. “You’re not by any chance color blind, are you?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t like my shirts?”
“They are a bit colorful.”
“I like them,” my husband stated firmly.
“They’re not white or khaki.”
Fabian laughed. “They also camouflage his weapons.”
I patted his waist. Hmmm. He was armed to the teeth and after all those years of wearing uniforms, he probably wanted to express his individuality.
Very colorfully.
Derek pulled out another t-shirt which proclaimed, ‘All Men Are Idiots and I Married The King.’ “You’re not wearing this.”
“But it’s funny.”
My husband hurled it out the window.
The t-shirt landed on the head of a big red bull.
It mooed frantically and spun around in circles trying to dislodge it.
“You just wasted ten bucks and traumatized that poor cow.”
“Do I look like I care?”
I met his hard gaze. “Nope, not a bit.”
He yanked out a neon yellow shirt with ‘I Don’t Have A License To Kill, I Have A Learner’s Permit’
stamped on the front. “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”
“Who? Me? Heaven forbid. I just figured if you were going to glow in the dark, I should, too.”
Out the window it went.
“You’re wasting our money.”
Irritation flared in Derek’s eyes. “Our money?”
Fabian choked back a laugh.
“I don’t remember signing a pre-nup,” I answered. “So what’s yours is mine.”
Exhaling a long breath, Derek reached into the bag and pulled out a lavender t-shirt covered in flowers. “This you can wear.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“It brings out your eyes.”
“You say the sweetest things,” I said and pulled off my sticky shirt.
Derek cut the tags off with his Bowie knife, pulled the t-shirt over my head and stated firmly, “Behave.”
I noticed the lines of stress etched in his face and ran a soothing finger over them. “Sorry, when I’m freaked out I turn into a motor mouth.”
“I’ve noticed.” My husband’s mouth closed over mine in a long voracious kiss. “Better?”
“Much better.” I laid my head against his shoulder. God, I was so tired.
Derek’s fingers stroked my back soothingly and my eyes drifted shut.
A shuddering bounce woke me. I blinked and looked up at the wind sculpted cliffs rising up around us.
Johnson Canyon was a symphony of color that dazzled the eye. Milk white monoliths stood like sentries next to towering mesas in ever changing shades of red which contrasted sharply with the turquoise sky.
“Are we there yet?”
“Yes ma’am, we are,” Derek replied.
Fabian brought the Hummer to a stop next to two new silver Airstream motor homes.
Ed parked his black Hummer next to us.
I eyed the Airstreams giddily. “This is our camp site?”
My husband nodded, “It is.”
“We’re actually staying in the Airstreams?”
“We are.”
I threw my arms around Derek’s neck and gave him a hot, open mouth kiss. “That’s my kind of camping.”
“It is our honeymoon.” Scooping me up, he opened the car door and carried me towards the first Airstream. “But don’t get used to this kind of accommodations; at most of my digs all we have are tents.”
“Tents, huh?” His last dig had been in the Mexican jungle. Oh ick! I got all itchy just thinking about the bugs, heat, creepy crawlies and no toilets or showers.
“I’m not leaving you behind, so don’t even bring it up.”
A warm glow formed in my chest. Derek wasn’t planning on dumping me once we found the gold.
The sensation of sudden overwhelming danger screamed through me like an electric shock. “Put me down.”
Frowning, Derek obeyed. “What’s wrong?”
My gaze settled on a metal sign with a large arrow pointing down the dirt road. It said, Caves Lake Canyon miles. “Holy hell, we’re gonna need a lot of salt.”
My husband barked, “Why?”
I pointed to the sign. “Caves Lakes are where those eight thousand angry Aztec warriors reside.”
“Dios Mio,” Fabian hissed. He quickly opened the back of the Hummer, ripped open a large box and tossed Derek a container of salt.
“Bring the whole box,” I said nervously as the skies darkened to charcoal gray, then black. “And where’s my bag of tricks?”
Derek grabbed it from the Hummer. “Here.”
I took it, pulled out two blessed crosses and handed them to Derek and Ed. “Put them on.”
They quickly complied. Derek jerked his head towards Fabian. “Does he have one?”
“Always,” my cousin answered as he poured the salt in a big circle.
The wind rose abruptly and blew the salt away.
Crap! “Everyone inside,” I yelled as ghostly figures appeared in the boiling clouds.
Derek opened the door and all hell broke loose.
Incandescent red lightning bolts arced across the sky and hurricane strength winds slammed us to the ground.
The motor home door banged shut.
“Give me your knife,” I screamed at Derek.
Without hesitation, my husband handed it to me. I met his calm gaze and mouthed, I love you.
Fierce satisfaction filled Derek’s eyes and he mouthed, I… A tree branch slammed into him.
Pieces of flying debris struck me in the face and the shrieks of thousands of tortured souls battered my ears.
Gritting my teeth, I sliced my arm open and used the blood to draw a pentagram on the motor home door.
Fabian grabbed Derek’s arm as he yanked the knife from my grip. “You want her to die?”
“No,” my husband growled.
Using my own blood I quickly drew a pentagram on each man’s chest and then on my own. I reached deep inside me and drew on every ounce
of power I had and yelled, “Tempore, qui corpus, monstrata est quaedam.”
Ribbons of dazzling energy shot from my hands and crackled around us, driving back the Aztec spirits. They weren’t going to hurt my family.
Gruesome skeletal faces screamed their fury and a choking, claustrophobic wave of rain pounded us.
The energy shield sparked and sputtered.
Derek’s hand clamped over my bleeding wrist and the sensation of drowning vanished. His strength joined with mine and the shield held.
Granny Annabel materialized in front of us and chanted, “Tempore est quaedam. Gallice material transferam.”
With an ear-shattering shriek, the spirits dematerialized.
The wind stopped.
The boiling black clouds dissipated revealing a turquoise sky.
My mind spongy with fatigue, I sagged against Derek. “Too close,” I croaked, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Damn straight.” Picking me up, my husband carried me inside the motor home and down a narrow hallway to the bathroom.
I heard Granny tell Fabian and Ed, “Line all the windows and doors with salt.”
Derek sat me on the toilet and wrapped a wash cloth around my still bleeding wrist. “Hold this while I get the first aid kit.”
I nodded wearily.
Granny Annabel popped in. “It is as I foretold.
Your mate bond has increased your strength. You are now more than a match for Sophie.”
“Demon Sophie?”
“Si.”
“Yippee,” I said. The sooner Sophie was forever rotting in hell, the happier I would be.
“Aldo has persuaded the Pope to loan us St.
Nicholas’s Icon and Charlemagne’s Sword.”
“I get the sword. It’ll permanently send Asmoday back to the Ninth Hell but what’s the Icon for?”
“It will allow us to free the Aztec warriors’
souls,” Granny answered.
“Gotcha but it might be a good idea to get a couple of really big mirrors and let the ghosts’ own reflections scare them back to their watery grave.
I’m tired of them trying to drown me on dry land.”
“A wise move; the spirits are very angry.”
Homicidal was more like it. “Did Uncle Aldo get the Vatican to provide him with holy water and blessed crosses?”
“He did. We should have everything in twelve hours.”
Derek walked back in with the first aid kit.
“Twelve hours is too long. I have some contacts that can get them here sooner.”
“I will let Aldo know,” Granny said and vanished.
My husband stuck his head out the door and bellowed, “Ed.”
A very soggy Ed hurried up with a container of salt in one hand. “Yes, sir?
“See if you can track Lanford down and tell him I’m calling in that favor he owes me.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted sharply and marched off.
“Hoorah,” I muttered.
My Tomb Raider kneeled in front of me and growled, “You could use some military discipline.”
“In your dreams.”
“I’ve whipped a lot of sorry recruits into shape.” He cleaned the blood off my wrist and sprayed a disinfectant on the cut.
“You don’t bang your recruits do you?”
Derek grinned and wrapped a bandage around the laceration. “No, ma’am. I’m strictly a one woman man.”