Nightshine (Kyndred #4)

“I haven’t walked the entire perimeter, but I assume so.” Samuel eyed the sparkling sand. “Is it artificial?”

“Yeah.” Drew uttered a pained laugh. “It’s also riddled with gold.”

“Surely you mean pyrite, or mica.”

“Samuel, besides computers, the only thing I’m an expert on is metal.” He bent and scooped up a handful of the sand, stirring it with his fingertip. “Everything that glitters here is the real deal. At least one-sixth of the beach is twenty-four karat.” He poured it out of his hand. “Cagey bastard. He hid it in the one place Cortés’s descendants and the historians would never think to look.” He glanced up. “The vampire is—was—Mote-cuhzoma. Last king of the Aztecs.”

Samuel listened as Drew related what the master and Stanton had told him. When his friend finished the bizarre tale, he grew thoughtful. “That explains the artifacts in the villa. I thought they were reproductions, but they’re simply newly made.”

“You really think he’s the big M?”

“It’s possible,” Samuel said. “Early explorers always brought disease to the Americas. It’s not a broad leap to imagine one of them was dark kyn. He must have turned the Aztec, who viewed his transformation as the process of becoming a god.”

“Maybe that’s what let him survive what he’s been through.”

Drew shook his head. “He’s gone loony tunes, but he’s still smart. He’s been taking over the drug cartels, and he can control anyone else he needs. If he does build this army and uses it to take over Mexico, Motecuhzoma’s revenge is going to have a whole new meaning.”

Of all the objects in the villa, the only ones Samuel had not been able to touch-read had been the strange clubs hung high on the first-floor entry wall. “Come back up to the house. There’s something I need to do.”

Samuel intended to drape the security camera with a cloth to obscure the lens; instead he found the equipment smashed and dangling from a frayed wire. Drew reached up, pulling down the ruined unit and running his fingers along the wires.

“More fiber optics.” He inspected the camera. “Looks like it exploded.”

Colotl joined them and grimaced at the twisted mass of metal. “Charlotte.” He mimed striking something with a club, and then swept his hand toward the rest of the villa.

Drew whistled. “Your lady has a bad temper.”

“She doesn’t want them to know Pici is close to delivering.” Samuel led the men into the living room, where he began taking apart the modules making up the conversation pit. “Grab one of these and bring them out into the hall.”

By stacking the modules, Samuel was able to fashion a small tower beneath the display of the clubs. “You’d better climb it,” he told Drew. “It won’t hold my weight.”

“Just catch me if I fall,” Drew joked as he started up.

With Colotl’s help, Samuel was able to hold the modules steady, and Drew worked one of the clubs free of the hooks holding it to the wall. Colotl reached up to take it from him before he climbed back down.

“Xitlachia,” Colotl said, his expression sobering as he passed it to Samuel. “Micoani yaotlatquitl.”

“Sounds like he’s trying to say ‘handle with care,’ ” Drew said, only half joking.

Samuel hefted the surprisingly heavy weapon. Carved from a single piece of teak, the four-foot-long business end had been fashioned like a squared blade, with deep notches on both sides. Single rows of black, prismatic stone blades had been fitted inside the notches, their rectangular shape as puzzling as the razor sharpness of their exposed edges.

“It’s not a club,” Samuel murmured, turning it over. “It’s a macuahuitl.” At Drew’s blank look, he added, “An Aztec sword.”

Drew’s expression turned skeptical. “Sorry, but in every movie I’ve seen, swords are made of forged steel or iron. That’s just a big wooden stick with some black rocks stuck in it.”

“According to the historical accounts I’ve read, these were very effective in battle. One Aztec warrior used his to decapitate a horse.” Samuel closed his eyes briefly, drawing on his ability, which now provided only a glimpse of a powerful hand streaked with gold fashioning the weapon. “The vampire made these himself. I wonder why.”

Drew made a rude sound. “Maybe he’s into arts and crafts.”

“This isn’t a decoration.” Samuel took a test swing, pitting the stone-blade edge against one of the suspended animal masks. The blade cut through the jaguar’s clay-and-hide visage as if it were made of paper, sending half of it to smash on the glass floor.

“Oh, yeah.” Drew blew out a breath. “That’s a sword.”

“You break that floor, boys,” a tired voice said, “and you’ll be mopping it up for weeks.”

Samuel looked up as Charlotte came down the staircase. “How are the patients?”

“Ihiyo is in and out, but no fever, no signs of sepsis. That’s my good news.” She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. “Bad news is that Pici’s contractions have started again. They’re sporadic, and I’ve given her a mild sedative, but if her water breaks, I have no choice but to deliver the baby. As small as she is, that’s probably going to be by C-section.” She eyed the macuahuitl. “Just what are you planning to do with that thing?”

“Use them to hurt the bad guys,” Drew said.

“We’ll take down the others from the wall,” Samuel decided. “There aren’t enough to go around, but with Colotl’s help I believe I can make more.”

“Can I have a word with you in private?” Charlotte asked, her voice tight.

Samuel led her into the kitchen. “I know you don’t like violence, but we need more weapons.”

“Why? So I can turn this place into a hospital?” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms. “Why don’t you guys build a boat instead?”

“We couldn’t finish it before they come back for Pi-ci’s baby,” he reminded her.

“The vampire could come back with them, too.” Her lips thinned. “Last night he didn’t even touch you, and he still cut you guys down like you were paper dolls. Even if you make a hundred of those sword things, none of you could get close enough to . . .” She stopped and stared at him. “No.”

“My ability to heal means I am the only one who has a real chance of withstanding the vampire’s ability,” he said quickly. “If we can lure him back to the island, and I alone attack him, I could survive his assault long enough to decapitate him—”

“You’re talking about cutting off the head of an immortal monster using a weapon that will probably bounce off him. At which point, he dismembers you with a single thought.” She pushed herself away from the counter. “I’ve got to get back upstairs.”

He caught her hand, tugging her back to him. “He’s not invulnerable, and I know once we talk to Agraciana we’ll figure out how to get to him. I’m not going to die on you. I keep my promises, honey.”

“You’d better.” She curled her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against his chest. “All right, I’m in. What do you need from me? I can spare you some scalpels if you want to use the blades.”

“I’ll send Drew up to have a look at your equipment and see what he can use. He needs some copper to work with,” he added as she gave him a quizzical look, “but Energúmeno seems to have stripped all of it from the island.”

She pulled back and frowned. “How much does Drew need?”

“I can’t say.”

“As much as you’ve got.” Drew came around the side of the doorway. “Sorry; I was eavesdropping. Leftover habit from my scary life as a GenHance mole.”

Charlotte lifted her head. “Vulcan?”

“My Internet fame precedes me.” He grinned before he glowered at Samuel. “Hey. You didn’t say she was one of ours.” He tilted his head as he studied Charlotte. “You’re not Sapphira; she’s Canadian. I’ve met Aphrodite and Jezebel, and I know Delilah’s safely hidden away in the Rockies.”

“What, am I the only one who doesn’t get invited to these Takyn get-togethers?” Charlotte demanded before she sighed and held out her hand. “I’m Magdalene.”

“Maggie? No shit?” Drew whooped and grabbed her in a bear hug before he held her at arm’s length to inspect her again. “And you’re a medic. Damn, girl, the way you shoot I thought for sure you were a Green Beret or something.”

Samuel raised his brows. “She shoots?”

“Yeah, and she scores. Majorly.” Drew tucked his arm through hers. “So, okay, you played through to the end of three, right? Is he still alive? Is the war over or not?”

“They made a hundred and seventy million dollars in one day on three,” Charlotte chided. “Trust me; he’s in cryo until they release four.” She glanced at Samuel. “We’ve played some online games together a few times.”

Samuel followed them upstairs, only half listening to their conversation about gaming together. Drew’s mention of Delilah had sent a fresh wave of guilt through him; he had yet to tell Charlotte how badly he had treated their Takyn friend. Fortunately it was daylight, or she might have plucked the shameful memories straight from his mind.

“I feel a little tingle,” he heard Drew say, and looked in as his friend walked around the treatment room. “Wherever it is, it’s not much. May be some wire fragments inside one of these units.”

“I don’t want to take anything apart if I can help it,” Charlotte told him. “I might have to run some other tests on Ihiyo or Pici.”

Drew nodded. “I can search for it without destroying anything. Although we’d have it made if one of us could mind-forge gold.” He described his discovery on the beach.