Cult of the Black Jaguar Read Online Free Page B

caught glimpses of feet and fists as the expedition team once more exchanged blows with the natives. Even Harrison seemed to be putting up a fight.
    â€œFather!” Jenny’s voice rose above the general din. Veracruz had her by one arm and was dragging her away from Heathcliff’s side. The white-haired historian lay on the ground, gasping for air.
    â€œEnough! Stop or the girl dies!” Hector had his gun to her head.
    â€œYou’re going to kill us anyway.” Ethan spat out the words through clenched teeth.
    â€œThen perhaps I will merely wound her.” He moved the gun down to her stomach. “She can spend her last hours in agony, because of you.”
    â€œNo.” Ethan couldn’t risk something happening to Jenny. They’d have to find another way to stop whatever madness Hector had planned. He held up a hand.
    â€œAll right. Everybody stop.”
    Popi and Luz pushed Amos against the far wall next to Elton Harrison, who sported a bloody nose.
    Hector passed Jenny over to his men and then trained his gun on the other expedition members. Jenny struggled violently to free herself until Luz slapped her across the face. Ethan wanted to shout as her eyes went glassy and she slumped forward in their grasp, but the pain in his midsection prevented him from taking a deep enough breath. A laughing Popi tore her khaki shirt open, exposing her bra and bare midriff. He pulled the shirt down to her wrists and bound them behind her back with it.
    Ethan felt the blood rush to his face as the two men hauled Jenny towards the door. Her copper hair was mussed and dirty, and streaks of gritty soil showed on her chest and back. The delicate material of her bra did little to hide her bare flesh, and Popi made sure his hands groped her as he pulled her along. Ethan dug his fingers into the hard-packed earth. Despite her condition—or perhaps because of it—Jenny had a wild beauty about her, and he feared what would happen to her once Hector’s men got her alone somewhere.
    â€œEnjoy your last hours, my friends.” Veracruz smiled at them. “Soon the setting sun will call our Priestess from her slumber.”
    The door slammed shut, and the heavy sound of wood-on-wood indicated the brace had been set as well.
    â€œDamn you, Veracruz!” Ethan pounded a fist against the ground, ignoring the throbbing across his ribcage. His body craved one of his cheroots, and darker things as well. His hands wanted only to be around Hector’s neck.
    â€œBoss, you okay?” Amos knelt down beside him, tried to pull Foster’s hand from his wound.
    â€œI’m fine,” Ethan said, turning away and forcing his body to sit up. It took a greater effort than he expected, but he didn’t stop. He knew he only had to deal with the pain until nightfall.
    â€œThen you better take a look at Professor Pascal. He’s in pretty bad shape.”
    Concern for Heathcliff spurred Ethan to push himself to his feet and stagger across the chamber.
    â€œHe’s not breathing well,” Harrison said.
    Ethan lowered himself down next to his old friend. The professor’s bearded face seemed to have aged years over the past few hours. His normally ruddy complexion had gone pale. Sickly dark smudges stained the flesh under his eyes, and his lips had a bluish tint to them. It alarmed Ethan that despite the intense heat in the Ossuary, the professor was no longer sweating.
    The sound of Pascal’s breathing reminded Ethan of a fat man trying to climb a long set of stairs. It wasn’t a sound he’d ever heard Heathcliff Pascal make, not even after the longest of grueling jungle hikes.
    â€œHeathcliff, can you hear me?” Ethan patted one of the professor’s cheeks.
    Blue eyes, uncharacteristically dull and faded, opened. “Ethan, my boy. They have Jenny. I tried to stop them…” Pascal paused to draw in a shaky breath. A tear rolled down his ashen cheek.