The Bloodgate Guardian Read Free Page B

did she insist on seeking out every little tarnish and ding in any man’s armor? She knew why, and so did Geoffrey.
    Some things a girl never outgrew, let alone forgave, once she finally realized nothing she did would ever win her father’s love.

CHAPTER THREE
    While Geoffrey climbed the squeaky stairs to pack up his things, Jaid headed for the library in the back of the sprawling Victorian mansion she’d inherited from her mother. She set her satchel on top of the massive desk, pulled out her laptop, and immediately turned it on. She’d check in first to see if her father had any last-minute translation requests…
    She clenched her jaws and made herself haul out the composition books. No research tonight. She had to grade at least half before she even let herself peek at the next glyph. Grumpy, she dragged out a brand-new pack of red pens. Pity my poor students , she thought, checking her e-mail.
    Adrenaline sent her heart pounding frantically. Dad had sent a scheduled video e-mail using a new service that boasted fast streaming and secure servers. What the hell is he up to?
    “This is Dr. Charles Merritt at Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, also called the Mouth of Creation.” Her father’s distinctive, powerful voice made her throat tighten. When he’d still taught, his students had always been riveted as soon as he uttered the very first word. The sunset behind him was gorgeous, and she could just barely see the shimmering waters of Lake Atitlan. “My thanks to my daughter, Dr. Jaid Merritt, who made this ritual possible.”
    Her eyes burned and she called, “Geoffrey! Come see this!”
    “Jaid, I know you’re not ready to attempt an experiment yet, but events are whirling out of my control. Beware anyone who works for Venus Star. Don’t let them get their grubby hands on my life’s work, no matter what happens tonight. I used your last translations to set the rings.”
    What? Her palms dampened with sweat. What are you trying to do? Surely you don’t think any of this is…real.
    Nearly a month ago, her father had brought her a fully intact codex he’d found at the bottom of a temple in the new dig. He’d sworn her to complete silence. For the past few weeks, she’d been feverishly translating glyph after glyph, working so hard that she hadn’t actually read the pages he’d requested.
    The codex reminded her of a Maya fairytale with jaguars and priests, portals to other worlds, even the Great Feathered Serpent appearing at Lake Atitlan, the once and future king or Messiah. If her father actually believed any of this…he’d finally succumbed to some kind of jungle madness.
    Geoffrey dropped his hand on her shoulder and leaned closer. “What is it?”
    “It’s Dad,” she whispered, her thoughts racing frantically. “He recorded some kind of ritual. Oh, God, what is he…” Her stomach heaved. That poor goat.
    “Dear God, he’s gone insane. Jaid, you’ve got to call someone.”
    “Who? Who can help him?”
    “Isn’t Sam on site? If they’ve worked together all these years, surely he can stop your father. This is…Jaid, he’s sick.”
    A new voice intruded on the digital recording. She leaned forward, pressing her hand to her mouth to fight back her rolling stomach. She could barely make out a shadowy form on the edge of the screen. Golden lights swirled about him, illuminating the stark lines of his face. Impossibly, she recognized his profile.
    Not by name, of course, but he looked like one of the proud, arrogant portraits carved on a temple wall above the ballcourt. Despite the jeans—although he wore no shirt—that tall slanting forehead and full lower lip marked him as Maya as any statue of a long-dead king of Chich’en Itza.
    She must have blinked or zoned out because he disappeared. Where he’d stood, a massive black jaguar crouched, snarling and growling at her father. Heart racing, she ran the recording back through her mind. Surely he hadn’t…It was impossible…
    Her father