Zoltan swallowed hard. According to Neona, Frederic had fathered two daughters with Calliope. But if the two girls were born in the 1920s, they would be elderly by now. And all the women of Beyul-La looked young.
A chill ran down his back. Was the myth of Shangri-La based on fact? Was Beyul-La a valley where no one grew old?
He recalled the words Neona had said about her sister. The sentence had seemed odd at the time, but he’d figured it was her grief that had been coloring her words. Now he wondered if her grief had actually caused her to be honest.
You don’t understand how long we were together, how long we will be apart. Was Neona facing an eternity without her twin? Was that why she sat crying by her sister’s grave in the middle of the night? And how long had they been together before her sister’s death?
A memory flashed through his mind of his first sighting of Neona. She’d been dressed in armor, looking like an ancient Greek soldier sacking Troy.
“Good God,” he whispered. How old was Neona?
Chapter Nine
The next evening after sunset, Zoltan quickly showered and dressed. He was eager to see Neona but nervous about asking her about her age. Normally that would be considered rude, but in this case, it might be cause for murder.
She’d tried to kill him the first time they’d met, and she’d mentioned several times that men were not allowed there. So he assumed the women were guarding a secret they couldn’t trust with anyone else. Eternal life would fit the bill.
Was that what Master Han and Lord Liao were looking for? As vampires they already enjoyed the possibility of eternal life, but maybe they thought the women’s secret would enable them to live during the day. That would give them a huge advantage over the Vamps who were dead and vulnerable during the day. If Master Han possessed the secret, he could rule the vampire world.
It would also give him a tremendous amount of power over mortals, since he could decide who received the gift of eternal life and who didn’t. He would be a god among mortal men.
Zoltan walked into the kitchen for a quick meal and found Howard seated at the kitchen table, polishing off his box of donuts.
“You’re going back to see your girl, right?” Howard pushed a sat phone and a knife across the table. “Neona was her name?”
“Yes.” Zoltan dropped the sat phone into his pocket but ignored the knife. How could he win her trust if he arrived with a weapon?
“I e-mailed a report to Angus. He agrees with us.”
Zoltan finished his glass of blood. “Where is Angus now?”
“Still in London with Emma.”
Zoltan walked over to the fridge while he considered. “Can you ask Angus to check on something for me?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“I want to know what happened to a guy named Frederic Chesterton. He may be dead by now, but his son might be alive and remember something.”
“Remember what?” Howard asked.
“Something from the first six years of his life.”
Howard frowned. “Does this Frederic own the cabin Russell mentioned?”
“He lived there for eleven years.” Zoltan slipped a plastic bag of blood into one of his jacket pockets and zipped it shut. “I should be going now.”
Before Howard could object, Zoltan teleported back to the clearing where he’d first met Neona. She was almost four hours ahead of him, so midnight would come soon. He levitated up to the tree branch to retrieve the arrow Russell wanted back, then hurried down the mountainside to Frederic’s cabin in the valley.
It was an idyllic place. Green meadows, forested hillsides, a gurgling mountain stream, and the waterfall shooting out of Beyul-La. He could see why Frederic Chesterton had stayed for eleven years. Especially if he’d been in love with one of the women.
As Zoltan approached the cabin, his heart beat faster. No woman had ever intrigued him as much as Neona did. She was such a fascinating mixture—tough but innocent, fierce yet tender. Beautiful, but totally unaware of it. He’d never met someone who needed love as much as she did. She was a lonely soul like him and, he suspected, an old soul as well.
Somehow their paths were connected. He’d felt that from the beginning. She held the answers to the mysteries from his past. And he was becoming more and more certain that she was his future. He just needed to convince her.
He would hold her in his arms and woo her with kisses. He would gain her trust. And her love. The prospect made his heart pound with anticipation.
He strode into the cabin. “Neona?”
His heart sank. The cabin was empty.
Was he waiting for her? Neona glanced up at the moon, which was three-quarters full in the clear starry sky. Zoltan had said he’d meet her at midnight, but she didn’t have a way to know the exact time. Her contact with the outside world was so limited that she’d never needed to keep track of time.
She’d seen a clock before. Frederic had owned a pocket watch that he’d given to Calliope before leaving. Freddie was the proud owner now, even though the watch had broken years ago.
Neona wandered over to the grassy mound where Calliope was buried. Moonlight glistened on the long grass, lending it a silvery hue. A breeze blew down the mountainside, rustling the trees that flourished higher up the hill.
“I miss you,” Neona whispered to the other healer.
Calliope had died six years ago when the new cycle had started. Her death had devastated her three daughters. The oldest daughter, Farah, fathered by a Persian long before Frederic’s arrival, now lay buried next to Calliope. Farah had died two weeks ago in the battle that had claimed five of the women of Beyul-La. Only Winifred and Freya remained from Calliope’s line.
Neona paused in front of Farah’s grave, bowing to pay her respects before moving on to the mound where her sister was buried.
“Minerva.” She sat next to the mound. “I had the dream again last night.” It seemed like the memory should have faded with time, but she could still see the injured boy so clearly in her mind. He’d remained unconscious the entire time she’d treated him. He’d taken some harsh blows to the head, some gashes to his shoulders, and a nasty burn down his back. “Why do I keep dreaming about him? And that terrible day?”
No answer.
Neona sighed. “It must be a reminder of what happens when one of us shirks our sacred duty to follow a man.”
She gazed up at the stars. As much as she wanted Zoltan to be different, she couldn’t allow herself to trust him. If she continued to see him, she would be putting the secrets of Beyul-La at risk. She could end up destroying everything if she wasn’t careful.
“I know I mustn’t go to him.” But what if Zoltan was waiting for her?
She imagined him pacing in front of Frederic’s cabin. Would he become angry, like he had last night? Would he feel betrayed when she didn’t come?
The thought made her heart ache. She didn’t want to cause him pain. By nature, she was a healer. She took pain away; she didn’t cause it. But because she was one of the guardians of this valley and its secrets, she’d also been trained to be fierce in battle. She knew how to be ruthless when her own life was hanging in the balance.
Now it was her heart that was at stake, so she had to be ruthless where Zoltan was concerned. And she had to be honest with herself. She was hopelessly attracted to the man. It would be far too easy to fall in love with him.
“Why am I so drawn to him? I hardly know anything about him. Where does he come from? Why is he so curious about me?” She mentally ticked off what she did know about him. Handsome, brave, quick, strong, intelligent, honorable, charming, sweet.
She winced. How could she not fall for such a man? He’d tried to save her life when he’d thought she was in danger from Zhan. Noble and protective, she added those to her list. Then she smiled, remembering how offended he’d been when she’
d told him men were unnecessary. There was a vulnerability to him in spite of his strength. He seemed to need love as much as she did.
“Did I tell you that he kissed me again?” Neona whispered, then closed her eyes, letting the memory of last night’s kiss flood over her. He’d been so sweet, so tender, and incredibly exciting because beneath it all she had sensed a fiery passion ready to burst into flames and consume her. He’d pulled her tight against him, and she’d felt his swollen manhood, large and straining against the confines of his pants.
If she went to him tonight, she might end up in bed with him. Skin touching. Arms embracing. Legs entwined. The images racing through her mind made her heart pound, made her yearn to give in to desire.
But it was too dangerous. She knew deep inside that bedding Zoltan would change her irreparably. He would take her heart along with her body.
She couldn’t let that happen. For both their sakes. How could she live with herself if she encouraged his affections and he was killed because of it? Each time he invaded their territory, his life was in danger.
“I mustn’t go to him.” She pulled her knees up and hugged them. It was the right decision. The wise decision. So why did she feel like screaming in frustration?
A twig snapped behind her, and she instantly pulled the knife from the sheath strapped to her calf, then turned to look.
It was Zhan, emerging from the forest.
“Oh, it’s you.” She slipped the knife back into its sheath. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”
The snow leopard drew closer, moving from the shadows into the moonlight.
She sat up, noticing the arrow gripped in Zhan’s mouth. It looked like the arrow that had pinned Zoltan’s note to the tree branch.
Her eyes narrowed on the folded piece of paper stuck on the arrowhead. “Did you just come from Zoltan?”
Zhan dropped the arrow at her feet, and she huffed in indignation. “You rascal. Whose side are you on?”
Zhan sat, curling his tail around his front paws as he gazed intently at her.
She nudged the arrow away with her leather slipper. “I don’t want this. And I can’t believe you went to see him.”
Zhan continued to stare at her.
Her gaze drifted to the note. Blast that man. He knew her curiosity would get the better of her.
“Fine. I’ll read it.” She pulled the note off. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll go see him. My mind is already made up. He can beg all night, and it won’t affect me in the least.”
Zhan blinked at her slowly.
“Traitor,” she muttered and opened the note.
Neona,
I have taken over this valley and the cabin. This territory is now mine.
“What?” She read the first two sentences again to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. “He can’t take over our territory!”
No women are allowed here. If you attempt to invade my territory, I will attack. I advise you to stay away.
Zoltan
Neona scoffed. The gall of the man! “He advises me to stay away? From my own land!”
She jumped to her feet, wadding the note up in her fist. “How dare he! I’ll show—” She stopped with a sudden thought, then gave Zhan an incredulous look. “He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he? He knows this will make me come to him.”
She jammed his note into the drawstring pouch that dangled from the sash tied around her waist. “The fool. He thinks to manipulate me? This ridiculous game will get him killed! If any of the other women catch him in the neighboring valley, they will execute him on the spot.”
Leaving the arrow behind, she stalked toward the ridge where the rope ladder lay in waiting. And to think that just moments ago, she’d been listing his finer points. Ha! She would add stubborn, manipulative, and sneaky to the list.
“I will not fall for this outrageous ploy of his. I will force him to leave, even if I have to tie him up and haul him like unwanted baggage to the nearest village.”
She dropped the rope ladder over the ridge.
Zhan scampered down the rock wall, then ran toward the cabin.
As she started down the ladder, her heart pounded so loudly that it thundered in her ears. It was only anger, she told herself. She was not excited about seeing him again. The tightness in her chest was annoyance, not yearning.
When the cabin came into view, she stopped, her heart lurching at the sight of smoke curling from the chimney. He had made himself at home. As if he belonged here. With her.
Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly blinked them away. She mustn’t let him know how badly he tempted her. If he knew, he would never leave. And he had to leave before he was captured and killed.
Did you bring the food? the young snow leopard asked as it darted into the cabin.
Yes. Zoltan set the plastic container on the floor.
Smells good. The cat started eating. Mmmm.
Is she coming? Zoltan asked as he peered through the open door. The cat made a noise he interpreted as affirmative.
After pacing about an empty cabin for thirty minutes, Zoltan had finally acknowledged that Neona wasn’t coming. Luckily, he’d heard her pet lurking nearby, so he’d made a deal with it. Deliver a note to Neona, and he would supply the cat with a delicious meal. When Zhan had scampered off with the arrow and note, Zoltan had teleported home and raided the kitchen pantry for several cans of tuna. He’d tossed the tuna into a plastic container and teleported back.
Anger battled with apprehension as he waited for Neona. Part of him was afraid of losing her. Another part was furious that she’d refused to see him. Was he that damned easy to reject?
He spotted her in the moonlight, moving quickly along the stream, determination in every stride.
He stepped just outside the door and glanced at his watch. “You’re forty-seven minutes late.”
She halted a distance away from him, eyeing him with a wary look. “I have no way of telling time.”
Of course. He should have realized that. “I’ll bring you a watch tomorrow.”
She scoffed. “I don’t intend to see you tomorrow. I wasn’t going to see you tonight. I only came because of that stupid note—”
“I’ll bring you a watch tomorrow,” he repeated. “Is there anything else you would like? Some books, perhaps?”
A pained look flitted across her face before she shuttered her expression, but it was long enough to verify that he’d made a good guess at something she secretly yearned for.
She shook her head. “I cannot accept presents from you. How would I explain it to the other women?”
“Don’t explain it. Hide them under your bed. You’re good at keeping secrets, aren’t you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “So are you. I have no idea where you come from.” She walked toward him. “You’re not Chinese or Tibet—”
“Don’t come any closer.” He held up a hand to stop her. “This is my cabin now, and women are not allowed.”
“That is ridiculous! Men are not allowed, and that includes you. Do you really think you can steal our cabin by simply saying it is yours?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done? Can you prove this land is yours? Just because your people have lived here for a long time doesn’t make it yours. Do you have a deed?”
Her eyes widened with a look of alarm. He made a mental note to check the legal ownership of this land. If the women didn’t own it, he would make sure they did. It would be a good way to earn their trust.
She lifted her chin. “I did not come here to argue with you. I want you to leave. Immediately.”
He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “No.”
She made a sound of frustration. “If any of the other women see you, they will not hesitate to kill you. You must leave tonight and never come back.”
“Are you t
rying to protect me?” He straightened. “Is that why you’re rejecting me?”
“I’m rejecting you because you’re insufferable!” She leaned down to whip the knife from the sheath strapped to her leg, then pointed it at him. “Leave now.”
“Make me.”
She glowered at him. “Fine.” She threw the knife, and it spun through the air before lodging with a thunk in the door frame beside him. “Take that as a warning. Next time I aim for your chest.”
He glanced at the knife. She’d missed his shoulder by less than a foot. After a few seconds of alarm, he’d realized her trajectory was off, so he’d stood his ground.
He gave her a wry look. “Now you see why I can’t allow women here. One small disagreement, and you become violent. Obviously women can’t be trusted.”
She huffed. “It is men who cannot be trusted.”
“You let Frederic live here for eleven years. I try to stay one measly night and you throw a knife at me?”
“I’m trying to save your life, you fool!”
“Now you’re calling me names.” Zoltan heaved a sigh. “Poor Frederic. Did he suffer abuse like this?”
She gritted her teeth. “Men cannot be trusted. We thought Frederic was different, but even he betrayed us in the end.”
“He didn’t betray you.”
“He did! He broke Calliope’s heart when he left.”
“He never betrayed you. He told everyone he had no memory of where he had been or who had given birth to his son.”
Neona’s eyes widened. “How do you know about his son?”
“That’s the reason he left, isn’t it? He didn’t want his son forced to live here as a prisoner to your damned secrets.”
“We-we’re not prisoners,” she whispered, then shook herself visibly. “How do you know all this? Do you know Frederic?”
“I saw it on the Internet.”
She frowned. “What is that?”
“Information. What I really found interesting was that Frederic returned in 1933. About eighty years ago. And yet you claim he taught you English.”