Mayan Inferno: End of Days, #3

By A.S. Fenichel

Robyn has waited years for her chance to gain revenge on the demons responsible for her enslavement. She’s molded herself into a warrior, and with The Lord of the Dead on the move once again, her time has come and she’s ready to strike—until a band of survivors and their enigmatic leader make her rethink what she’s fighting for.

Breandan has kept the people of his ranch safe from the wrath of The Lord of the Dead. His gift of always knowing what everyone is feeling is instrumental in protecting those around him. The instant connection with Robyn takes his talents to another level.

Passion simmers between them. Neither can avoid their connection, but any distraction could mean disaster. The fate of the world rests on their shoulders, and their lust could be the deadliest distraction of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.S. Fenichel
• Release date: Oct 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519903433

A.S. Fenichel

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic, and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story. The author of The Forever Brides series, the Everton Domestic Society series, and more, A.S. adores strong, empowered heroines no matter the era, and that’s what you’ll find in all her books. A Jersey Girl at heart, she now makes her home in Southern Missouri with her real-life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing, she enjoys cooking, travel, history, puttering in her garden and spoiling her fussy cat. Be sure to visit her website at asfenichel.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.

Book preview

Chapter One

Robyn left her pinto near a long-dead mesquite tree. The movement she’d seen in the desert brush had stopped, but she pulled the long knife from her right boot, briefly touching the hidden pocket she’d sewn into the leather.

You stay here, Calypso.

The horse nudged her with her soft nose and snorted.

Before her, the desert stretched for countless miles. Buttes and mountains filled her view and rolled to the Rio Grande. Beyond that, the mountains of Mexico lay shadowed in the late-day sun. Spring had brought rain and flowers bloomed red, yellow and orange, filling the usually dry land with vibrant color.

Robyn focused her attention on the brush. A jackrabbit would make a good meal. Calypso could survive on the grass and the new pads of the prickly pear cactus, but she needed some meat if she was going to accomplish her goals.

She climbed down into the dry creek bed and circled the brush slowly, careful not to make a sound. The low ground left her exposed, but it had been weeks since she’d seen either a human or a demon. The rabbit’s fur was nearly the same color as the desert surrounds, but her heart beat faster when she spotted its back and tail.

Robyn jumped forward, grabbed the jackrabbit by the ears, and sliced its throat with her knife. Her movements were as smooth and fluid as a dancer’s.

She turned back to Calypso, smiled and held up her kill.

The smile died instantly when a demon, who used to be a man, snatched the rabbit from her fist. The sight of his rotting smile filled Robyn with fury that started in her belly and spread outward. He must have been waiting for her behind the thick row of brush at the edge of the depression.

When the demon spoke, his voice gurgled wetly. Look what a pretty I’ve found. And she hunts too. You will make a fine slave for my lord.

At his word slave, Robyn’s rage blinded her. All she could think of was the kill. Her heart beat faster, her eyes narrowed and all of her senses grew sharper. The scream that fell from her lips was more animal than woman. She spun her long knife once as if it were a baton before charging forward.

The demon backed up, his damp cackle filling her ears.

A second, taller demon rushed in from the left. The new demon was not of this world. He hadn’t been converted from a human and seduced into following The Lord of the Dead. This creature had been brought from the depths of hell to serve Mictlantecuhtli.

Robyn let her instincts guide her. Her feet left the ground as she spun around and sliced the head off the larger attacker, only seeing his bloodshot eyes for an instant before the bulbous head tumbled across the sand.

The creature still clutching her rabbit started to run away.

I don’t think so. She pulled a short dagger from the belt at her waist and sent it sailing through the air. It came to a thudding stop in the demon’s back.

The rabbit dropped to the ground only an instant before the demon crashed to the sandy soil.

She looked down at her condition. Black blood from the now-headless demon splattered her arm. She reached down and tore off half his shirt and wiped both her arm and the long knife before crouching down to get a better look.

The one who had spoken had once been a man, but the thing brought to Earth from someplace evil surprised her. Mictlantecuhtli had summoned the creature to do his bidding. That kind of magic took a lot of energy. How did these two end up here in the desert? Were they sent to look for her? Probably. Damn.

All the years Mictlantecuhtli, The Lord of the Dead, held her captive flooded back to her. Pain and forced pleasure was all she’d known. She’d lost her humanity for a time and that she could not forget. Her body was stiff with rage and a knot formed in her throat. Soon she would have her revenge. She touched the pocket in her boot again.

Robyn retrieved her dagger and rabbit.

Nicely done, one of two men, standing above her at the edge of the creek bed, said. He smiled, but there was no pleasure in his grin. He stood a foot taller than his companion, who was probably over six foot.

Robyn looked down at the gun clutched in his beefy hand, then back at his ruddy, unshaven face. He reminded her of the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. He wore brown, tattered pants and a long, forest-green tunic that looked as if it was made of thick wool.

The second man had shaved his head smooth. His face was clean and his blue eyes reminded her of the way the sea had looked in the winter, growing up in Georgia— dark, gray and bottomless. He didn’t say anything and he had no weapon she could see. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, but stood out in his quiet way, even while standing next to a hulk of a man.

A hundred thoughts ran through her head. The demons had chased her horse off. Calypso wouldn’t go far. Robyn had a gun, but it was in Calypso’s saddlebags. The men were armed and standing above her just close enough so that running was not an option. She’d have to go in the opposite direction. She couldn’t leave without the horse.

The blue-eyed man watched her so carefully that she began to wonder if he was reading her mind. These were not demons. At least that was a good sign.

I’m willing to share the food, she said reasonably.

I’m thinking you have no choice in the matter. The giant looked down at his gun and then back at her.

Robyn spun her long knife around in her hand, attempting to show her skill and perhaps frighten off the men.

The giant’s eyes widened. The other man watched quietly, but she thought she’d seen just the hint of a smile.

Pretty fancy with that knife, girly, but I’ve got a gun. Way I see it, you’re outnumbered and outgunned. Best if you just hand over the bunny before I make it my business to hurt you real bad.

I don’t like it when people threaten me.

The giant shrugged.

Robyn made a point to not kill humans. She’d learned that since End of Days, the survivors were few and they usually had redeeming qualities. Most of the really bad folks who survived ended up serving the other side. Still, she wasn’t willing to explore the giant’s kinder, gentler side. She lifted her dagger and aimed for the giant’s gun hand.

She heard a slight shuffle behind her, but too late. Pain seared the back of her head. For an instant, she’d thought she heard a man holler no then everything went black.

* * * *

A throbbing headache gave Robyn her first hint—she was still alive. Years of captivity had taught her to keep her eyes closed and assess the situation. While her captors thought her unconscious, she could listen and find out many things. The room she was in gave few clues. It was dimly lit and a wood fire burned, keeping her comfortably warm. A very soft bed cradled her. The absence of voices or movement told her she’d been left alone.

She opened her eyes.

Walls covered in white plaster, a bed made up with white linens and a soft, warm comforter surrounded her. A fire burned gently in the small fireplace built into the corner of the room. Cream-colored curtains shaded the windows, but sunlight slipped through the edges.

She moved her head slightly to get a better idea of the layout of the room. A large wardrobe, desk and chair completed the furnishings. A door to the right was open, with a bathroom beyond. A large candelabrum with six new candles stood on the desk and two small candles with holders had been placed on the bedside table.

What is this, a hotel? she said out loud, to herself.

Actually, it’s an old guest lodge.

Robyn flipped to her other side at the sound of the soft Irish brogue. Her head throbbed in protest.

The man with the blue eyes sat in a wingback chair, in a shadowed corner, watching.

She jumped to her feet, but her vision blurred and the floor felt as though it moved beneath her. Her knees buckled, but strong arms kept her from collapsing and a hard chest braced against hers.

His warm voice comforted her. Not so fast. You’ve been down for over an hour. Cerise clocked you pretty good.

She felt her head and found an egg-sized knot on the back of her skull. Who’s Cerise and why’d he hit me?

He took her hand away from the bump and lightly brushed her hair back away from her face.

She looked up and immediately his eyes arrested her. Her heart thumped hard and not from the pain in her head. Her eyes flicked to his perfect mouth. Her tongue automatically poked out to wet her dry lips.

His head bent just slightly and his lips grazed hers.

Robyn reached for the knife in her boot.

We’ll give you back all your weapons when you leave here. For now, I thought it best if you were disarmed. He didn’t move his mouth away from hers.

No problem, she whispered.

Her hand shot forward and grabbed him between the legs.

His breath caught and a high-pitched squeak emerged from his mouth as he stumbled away from her.

A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed. He backed away slowly.

No. She met his gaze.

He continued to talk as if the incident hadn’t occurred. Cerise is the fifteen-year-old girl who hit you on the head with a rock.

Why’d she do that?

You were threatening her father with a knife.

You? She could hear the surprise in her own voice. Why should she care if this man had a child, a wife or a dozen wives, for that matter?

He smiled, as if he once again read her mind. Not me, Baker.

She was sure that her eyes were as big as saucers. The giant? I wouldn’t have killed him. I was aiming at his gun hand.

He laughed and the sound rumbled deep in his chest. She could almost feel the vibration. Cerise didn’t know that.

Robyn stumbled back.

He was too much of a presence. He took up the entire room and she was swallowed up by him.

Sit down, before you fall. His voice was soft yet full of command.

Who are you?

Once she was seated on the bed, he sat back down in the chair, but pulled it out of the shadow. Breandan Conroy.

Why did you bring me here?

Wait just a moment, little girl. I told you my name. In a proper introduction, you must now tell me yours.

He spoke as if they were meeting in a park or at the beach, rather than after he’d taken her captive. Robyn Jones. I’m no little girl.

His toothy grin almost made her forget about the incident with the rabbit. Almost.

Well, Robyn Jones, you’re here because one of my people injured you and I couldn’t leave you in the desert to die.

Very noble, she said before thinking.

His short laugh filled the room. Sarcasm is a good indicator that the thump on your head did no damage. Can I assume you were a quick-witted sort before Cerise whacked you?

She shrugged, then got up, more slowly this time. I want my horse, my belongings and then I want to go.

His grin disappeared so quickly, she almost regretted her words. Robyn imagined that before the End of Days, a smile from Breandan Conroy would have melted most girls’ resolve. She had only been fifteen when almost all of humanity had been destroyed, but she was sure, even at that age, she wouldn’t have been immune to his appeal.

I think you’d be better off if you stayed with us for a few days, until you’re feeling better.

Where’s my horse? She stepped forward and reached for her knife, but then remembered she’d had it in her hand when she was captured.

She’s safe and fed. No harm will come to her or to you, Robyn. You’re safe here.

Nowhere is safe as long as the demons walk the Earth, she countered.

He sighed. You won’t solve the problems of the world today on an empty stomach. Why don’t you have a meal and stay the night? In the morning, you can decide if you still wish to go.

"Why should you care what happens to me, Conroy? I’m nothing to you. A girl wandering in the