Words of Love - By Hazel Hunter Page 0,35
He glared at the man with the rifle.
Hurry.
• • • • •
Jesse convulsed under the blade yet again but felt the room start to spin and darkness begin to take over her vision.
“No, no, no,” Frederico said, a warning tone in his voice, just as water hit her face.
She sputtered and coughed but her eyes opened at the sudden sensation.
He stood there with a metal cup in his hand.
“Where is the Red King?”
“Please,” she managed to breathe. “I don’t know.”
As the blade slapped into her, she grunted, without the energy to scream.
Was Brett with the Red King?
Her head swam.
“The Red King,” said Frederico.
And the blade came down again.
Oh god, it hurt. It burned and stung and each swing hurt more than the last. But as the pain rose, an image blazed into her mind.
The Red King. The Blood Gatherer. The confession. And the pain. It hurt but…hurt was the key.
The glyphs began to circle, slowly at first. The word for hurt sounded like the word for the spine of a cactus. It was the spine of the cactus that symbolized repentant bloodletting. The confession was a bloodletting and the prospective king needed to bring the cactus spine and let blood.
She had been right.
The Red King would have his blood.
Again, water was thrown in her face and the haze of pain returned.
“You leave me no choice,” said Frederico. He moved the machete in front of her face so she could see it. “The tip can also be effective.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Finally, the looter was almost within reach. He’d stopped looking from side to side and was completely focused on the stone tablet. Brett crouched low, ready to spring.
Just then, Jesse screamed with a blood-freezing wail that made his teeth grind and even made the looter look.
Brett leapt at him.
At least six inches taller than the man, he easily tackled him as the rifle discharged into the air. As the adrenalin coursing through his system finally found a release, Brett jammed his shoulder into the man’s solar plexus and took hold of the rifle. As the smaller man grunted and hit the ground, the air was knocked out of him and his grip went slack. Brett quickly ripped the gun from his hands.
But the little man was tough. Even though he was on his back, he immediately began punching and landed two quick blows, one on the jaw and one in the eye. As Brett backed up and got to his knees, the looter tried to crawl backwards, crab-like. With one eye closed, Brett swung the rifle but he was off balance.
The butt of the gun glanced off the man’s head and then hit the ground with a loud crack, as the wooden stock flew apart. It had been enough to stun the man, though, and Brett still held the barrel of the gun. He swung it backhanded and it thudded into the side of the man’s head with a crunching sound.
Though he’d never so much as slapped anyone in his life, Brett knew with certainty that the man would not be getting back up. Without so much as a backwards glance, Brett sprang to his feet. He grabbed the jade tablet and sprinted for camp.
• • • • •
Frederico tisked. As he watched blood trickle from the bottom of the woman’s foot, he realized he should have made the foot straps tighter. He’d barely started when she’d screamed and jerked and actually been able to move her foot.
Suddenly, a rifle shot rang out.
That would mean one of two things: Ernesto had found the man and couldn’t follow orders or the man had found Ernesto. Both were bad and suddenly the hair on the back of Frederico’s neck stood up. Without thinking, he sheathed the machete, took out his pistol and positioned himself at the far end of the tent. Then he heard the heavy boots over the sound of the generator. He’d been right to move.
Suddenly, the tent flap opened and the gringo appeared.
“Jesse!” he screamed and started toward her just as he realized Frederico was there.
• • • • •
Although Jesse’s eyes were open and she was panting, she didn’t seem to see him. As though his mind were in overdrive, Brett took in everything.
Even as one part of his brain catalogued the large red welts on her midsection and the blood at the foot of the bed, another part of his brain silently screamed.
She’d been tortured.
Tortured.
He slowly swung his glare on Frederico as the pistol and machete were quickly added to