Empire of Shadows (Raiders of the Arcana, #1)

by Jacquelyn Benson

Friar Vincente Salavert had never imagined that he would await holy martyrdom while covered in hives.

At that tender age, it had never occurred to Ellie that the life she wanted was an impossibility—that no amount of intelligence and determination would ever overcome the handicap of her gender.

Marriage would mean the end of any occupation for her besides managing the household—a fate even less desirable than being eaten alive by a boa constrictor.

The Mesoamerican region was not a part of the world that received nearly as much academic interest as Egypt, Rome, or Ancient Greece.

Apparently, British Honduras was afflicted with an entire cohort of Tuttle’s fellow rebels, who had fled here after the war to re-establish their plantations. Though slavery was illegal in the colony, as it was in all British holdings, Tuttle bragged about the benefits of cheap South Asian indentured labor in a way that made Ellie wonder whether there was really much difference.

Centuries of cultural conditioning couldn’t be overcome on a whim—not even if he meant her well.

She slipped a bit on the tiles. Adam caught her. She fit against him nicely. He set that thought firmly aside and jumped down to the far side of the fence.

“I don’t like pretending to be something I’m not,” he finally replied, his tone short. “I don’t like looking for ways to take advantage of people. When I get to the end of my day, I don’t want to worry about what connections I should be making or which of my friends might be out to get me. I just want to take off my boots and watch the sky change for a little while.”

“My buddy Fairfax—he can sit down for hours just tearing through pages. Doesn’t even need to take a note. It’s just all there in that weird head of his. I can’t do that. I try to pick up a book, and after maybe five or six minutes, I’m thinking about something else—what they’re gonna serve for dinner, or that my leg itches, or that I left a lamp lit somewhere. And I’m slow,”

Books were like breathing for her—an extension of her being. She hardly had to think about the fact that she was reading when she did it.

“You think the guys at the top care about a bunch of bones? And I don’t know that it’d be much better if they did. The only people who do excavations around here are rich types with the connections to pull government strings, and they’re all just looking to add to their collections. Maybe if you’re lucky, some of the stuff ends up in a museum somewhere on the other side of the world.”

From what I’ve seen, they’re not too particular about how the artifacts they show off in their fancy cases got there.”

“I guess maybe it’s occurred to me that if the museums weren’t so happy to buy whatever trinkets turned up on offer without asking the right questions about where they came from, there wouldn’t be so much of a market for looted antiquities.

The cave wasn’t timeless. The world outside had found its way in, and it had left a terrible mark.

“Fight with me,” Bates abruptly ordered. Ellie looked up with surprise. “What?” she blurted. “Fight with me,” he repeated, calling out the words over the relentless cascade. “Tell me why we should keep going.”

“Your offense against my language is forgiven—but we don’t have an alcalde here.

In his experience, a great deal of money sent you scrambling for as much more of it as you could possibly acquire, and to hell with anyone who got in your way in the process.

“If I’m going to take you… every perfect, infuriating inch of you,” he elaborated as his eyes moved over her in a way that felt as intense as a touch. “I’m not going to do it like this.” “Every inch?” Ellie echoed roughly.

“Stay perfectly still, Mr. Bates.” “I’ve had my tongue in your ear,” Adam cheerfully reminded her. “Pretty sure we can drop the ‘mister.’”

“Bates…” Ellie protested. He tossed the other boot at her and she caught it awkwardly as he moved away. “Adam!” He paused, and then turned back to catch her by her belt and haul her closer for a sudden, firm kiss. He smiled at her through the dark. “That sounds nice,” he concluded, and then dropped below the surface.

“Adam, do you have any idea how terribly dangerous knowledge can be?

“I have become inordinately fond of you, you know,” Ellie abruptly admitted. “Well, then, we’re gonna have to do our damnedest not to die,” Adam replied as he gazed down at her warmly—very warmly.

Ellie was suffused by a sense of the past threading itself through the present, even as so much had very obviously changed.