Howard leaned over the case and grimaced. “All I see is a shriveled-up, horrid thing. Why would anyone want to keep something so creepy?”
Zoltan winced as he pocketed the phone.
“Oh no!” Elsa fussed at her husband. “She’s very interesting. If you look closely, you can see all kinds of detail. Like the gown. Another reason why I thought it was a woman, although I think men used to wear long robes, too. But look at her sleeves and the hem of her skirt. See the embroidery? It’s deteriorated over time, but I bet it was beautiful when it was new.”
“But look at that.” Howard pointed at the mummy’s right hand. It reached out, the blackened fingers outstretched like the talons of a bird. “It looks like she’s trying to grab hold of you. How creepy is that?”
“It does look kinda scary,” Elsa conceded, then glanced at Zoltan. “Do you know why her hand is like that?”
He nodded. “She was buried with a Bible under her hand to keep her soul from roaming the Earth and seeking vengeance. Over the centuries, the Bible deteriorated but left her hand frozen in that position.”
“Creepy,” Howard repeated, and Zoltan shot him an annoyed look.
“Why did they think she would seek revenge?” Elsa asked.
Zoltan stepped closer to the case. “She was murdered by the villagers.”
Elsa gasped. “Why?”
“It’s a long story.” Zoltan placed his hand on the glass, where it rested over the outstretched hand of the mummy. “They thought she was a witch.”
“Oh.” Elsa’s eyes widened. “So that’s why you said she’d think it was funny to be here in the chapel.”
“She was executed for being a witch?” Howard asked.
Zoltan sighed. Both Howard and Elsa looked fascinated, so it was obvious they would hound him with questions if he didn’t tell them more. “The villagers couldn’t decide whether to stone her or burn her, so they did both. And then they couldn’t bury her in holy ground in the churchyard, so they stuck her in a cave and sealed it. Years later, there was a rock slide down the mountain that opened up the cave, and the villagers discovered that her body had mummified.”
Howard made a face. “So they brought her out and put her in a glass case? Why would they want to look at something this creepy?”
Zoltan gritted his teeth. “They thought it was the best way to keep an eye on her. So they could make sure she stayed dead.”
“But you knew her, right?” Elsa asked. “Was she really a witch?”
“No. I’ve always believed she was innocent. The count at the time was a merchant who traveled the Silk Road to China. He’d lost his first wife when she gave birth to his son, so I suppose he was lonely. He came back from one of his journeys with a new wife from the East. The villagers didn’t know what to make of her. She didn’t speak Romanian, she wasn’t Christian, and she looked a little different. She converted and took the name Donna Maria, but people still suspected her. When the Mongols invaded and killed most of the villagers, the survivors pointed their fingers at her. She was from the East, so she must have caused the Mongols to invade.”
“She became a scapegoat,” Howard concluded.
“Exactly,” Zoltan agreed. “Everyone had lost most of their families, so they were eager to blame someone. They tied Donna Maria to a post in the village square and decided to execute her.”
“But she was married to the count,” Elsa protested. “Surely he stood up for his wife.”
Zoltan shook his head. “The count’s eldest son was killed by the Mongols. He was so devastated that the poisonous gossip from the village took hold of him. He started to believe that he’d brought home a witch. The thought that his son’s death and all the other deaths were ultimately his fault made him fall into a deep despair. So he did nothing to save his wife.”
Elsa winced. “The poor woman. She must have felt so betrayed.”
“I’m sure she did.” Zoltan regarded her sadly. “But at the same time, I can see why people thought she was a witch. She could communicate with animals and birds.”
Elsa stiffened. “I can communicate with animals. And my aunt can communicate with birds. Thank God we live now and don’t have to worry about being stoned to death.”
“Wait a minute.” Howard lifted his hand and gave Zoltan a pointed look. “Aren’t you able to communicate with animals?”
“What?” Elsa’s eyes widened. “Can you really?”
Zoltan nodded. “Something I inherited.” He touched the glass above the mummy’s face. “Along with the almond-shaped eyes.”
Elsa gasped. “Oh, my God.”
Howard stiffened. “You mean . . . ?”
Zoltan nodded. “That’s why the steward said she’s special to me.”
Howard blinked, then snorted with laughter. “Your momma’s a mummy?”
Elsa swatted his arm and whispered, “Don’t make fun.” She turned to Zoltan. “I’m so sorry your mother suffered like that. I’m sure she was a lovely woman.”
“Yeah.” Howard shifted his weight, wincing. “Sorry about calling her creepy.”
“Repeatedly.” Zoltan gave him a wry look. “I should be going now.”
Howard nodded. “I brought the duffel bag. It’s just outside the door.”
“Thanks.” Zoltan glanced one more time at his mother. He was ninety-nine percent sure that she had come from Beyul-La. It would explain her odd gift. And her secrecy about her past.
Had Neona come with the other women to avenge his mother’s death? Did the arrow on the wall in the armory belong to Neona? Innocent or killer?
He swallowed hard. For the first time in centuries he was falling for a woman. He needed to gain her trust, but she was convinced that men couldn’t be trusted. Was she basing that assumption on what had happened to his mother? For there was no doubt in his mind that his father had betrayed his mother in the cruelest way. When she’d needed her husband the most, he’d turned his back on her. Abandoned her to a horrific death.
That was the main reason why Zoltan had never wanted to avenge his father’s death. He’d always figured the count had gotten what he deserved. But still, he wanted answers.
What had happened that day in 1241? He’d tried to protect his mother, standing in front of her and taking some of the stones meant for her, even some of the flames. But somehow he’d awakened the next day a few miles away from the burned village with no memory of how he’d gotten there. Would Neona know?
But how could he ask her without revealing who he was? Would she ever trust him if she knew he was the son of the betrayer? And a vampire, too.
For the first time, he realized that his courtship of Neona was not going to be easy. It wasn’t a simple matter of seducing her with kisses and chocolate. To choose him, she would have to overcome a mind-set that had been firmly etched in stone for centuries.
With a troubled heart, he picked up the duffel bag and teleported close to Frederic’s cabin.
She was nowhere in sight. Zoltan set the heavy duffel bag on the floor of the cabin and wondered what to do. The strategy he’d used the night before wouldn’t work again.
The worried feeling in his heart grew heavier. What if she was in trouble? How far would the queen go to make sure Neona didn’t leave Beyul-La? He gritted his teeth. He would not give up on her. Once he set his mind on a task, he never quit.
A sound outside drew his attention. Was the cabin being watched? He teleported out and took cover behind some trees. Soon he realized what was making the noise. The snow leopard was wallowing in a pile of fallen leaves.
Cat! he called. Where’s Neona?
Leave me alone. Zhan rolled onto his back. It’s the end of the world.
What? Zoltan ran toward him. Is Neona in trouble?
Doomed. I’m doomed. You might never see me again.
Why? Has something happened to Neona?
They won’t let her leave the valley. So she didn’t hunt today. The cat flopped over and let out a howl of despair. My food bowl is empty!
Zoltan scoffed. That’s what you’re worried about? You’re a leopard, you big wuss. Go kill your own rabbit.
Zhan shuddered, his fur bristling. It might fight back and bite me.
You big baby. Zoltan planted his hands on his hips. Don’t you know you’re supposed to be a mighty hunter?
I am? Zhan gave him a wide-eyed look. Will you show me how?
Not now. I’m worried about Neona. Do you know where she is?
The cat huffed. How can I answer when I’m starving to death?
I’ll bring you some food.
Zhan sat up. Really?
Zoltan teleported back to the kitchen and emptied three cans of tuna into a plastic bowl. Since he might have to search for Neona, he stuffed some plastic containers of blood into a jacket pocket, then teleported back.
Wow! The leopard jumped back a foot. How did you do that? Did you bring the food?
Here. Zoltan set the bowl in front of the leopard, and it immediately started eating. Is Neona all right?
Zhan looked up between bites. The last time I saw her she was by the burial mounds.
I know where that is.
Don’t go up the rope ladder. Or near the waterfall. There’s a guard at the top of the wall. She’ll see you and shoot you full of arrows.
I’ll be fine. An idea sprang into Zoltan’s mind as he watched the leopard eat. He pulled out his sat phone and called Milan. “Any news about the land in Tibet?”
“I’m afraid it’s bad news, sir,” Milan answered. “The land belongs to the Chinese government, and they refuse to sell to a foreigner.”
“I understand. Let’s try this approach. We set the land apart as a wildlife sanctuary for snow leopards. Call Howard Barr at the castle.”
“The were-bear? What can he do?”
“He can put you in touch with Rajiv in Tiger Town. Rajiv’s the head tiger there, and he has Chinese citizenship. If he’ll agree to be our front man, we can channel the money through him.”
There was a pause, then Milan said, “So I call the bear to contact a tiger to save some fictional leopards?”
Zoltan snorted. “The leopard is real.”
“Is he a shifter, too?”
“No, thank God. Let me know how it goes.” Zoltan pocketed the sat phone and patted the jacket pocket containing the watch. Cat, I’m going now. Hide the bowl when you’re done.
Okay. Zhan looked up at him. She cried last night.
Zoltan dragged in a hissing breath.
Don’t get caught.
I don’t plan to. He teleported close to the burial mounds.
Chapter Twelve
Was he waiting for her again at the cabin? With a sigh, Neona settled on the grass next to her sister’s grave. It was impossible to see him tonight. Her mother suspected her, so she had ordered the other women to take turns guarding the rock wall where they kept the rope ladder stashed.
Neona had sent her pet leopard to the cabin with instructions not to let Zoltan approach the rock wall where he might be seen, but she couldn’t be sure Zhan had understood. Even so, he had scampered off in the right direction. She hadn’t dared attach a note to him, since whoever was standing guard might spot it and it would serve as proof that she was indeed meeting someone secretly.
The night before she’d had to endure yet another lecture from her mother on the unworthiness of men. They could never be trusted. They wanted only sex and power. And they could get both from the women of Beyul-La.
The pool of Living Water in the cave’s throne room had enabled the women to fulfill their sacred duty over the course of many centuries. Men would never accept their dedication to duty. All they would see was a way to live forever as the richest and most powerful men in the world. So any man who learned their secret had to be executed. It was harsh, the queen admitted, but it worked. The secret had remained intact.
Over the centuries there’d been only one exception to the rule. Frederic. He’d been near death when Calliope had found him in the mountains. She’d erected a makeshift shelter for them, and in the days it had taken her to heal him, they’d fallen in love. She’d begged Nima to allow him to live in the neighboring valley, and Frederic had managed to convince them that he could help them. The outside world was changing quickly, he’d said, and they would be helpless to deal with it if caught unprepared.
Nima had been doubtful at first, but after Winifred was born and exhibited the gift of communicating with winged creatures, the queen had changed her mind. Freya was born a year later, and she possessed another useful gift—the ability to make crops flourish. Meanwhile, Frederic taught them English and all he could about the outside world. His love for his wife and daughters was so great that he’d been happy to accept his exile from his homeland. But that had changed after the birth of his son. The prison he’d accepted for himself, he could not accept for the boy. When Franklin had turned six, old enough to start school, his father had taken him back to England.
Nima had taken his desertion as proof that all men were alike. Ultimately, they could not be trusted.
But Zoltan insisted that Frederic had kept their secret. He’d remained faithful. Neona wanted to believe that some men could be trusted, for she hoped Zoltan was one of them. He knew too much. She could only pray that he would remain trustworthy and silent.
As much as she wanted to be with him, she knew the best way to keep him alive was to break off with him completely. For how many years would she think of him, dream of him? He would be out there somewhere roaming the earth, while she remained here, forever shackled to their sacred duty.