Beautiful Sacrifice

the festivities, you’re welcome to look at whatever you like. Otherwise, I can’t help you. No matter how much I would like to. And cara, I would.”
    Lina wondered what Mercurio wasn’t saying. “I’ll see what I can do about wedging in a visit during my family’s Christmas celebrations. And Abuelita’s birthday.”
    “Sooner rather than later, yes?”
    She made one last try. “If these artifacts are what I think they are, they should be in a museum. Your museum. This is the sort of thing that you and Philip both worked on.”
    “Not anymore. I have my own sites to work and my own problems to deal with. If these artifacts are Kawa’il cult objects, then they’re not mine. I doubt they’re Philip’s either. His salvage dig in Belize is just that. Salvage. The permits run out very soon, after which the Brits are turning the area into a bombing range.”
    No wonder Philip didn’t take the time to call, she thought.
    Lina knew how desperately Philip would be working to save what he could before the destruction began. It infuriated her that history could be so casually thrown away, but it was something that happened with “unusable” land more often than she wanted to think about. Yucatan and Belize—much of Mexico, in truth—was a mound of history waiting to be dug and understood. But the modern world needed space and modern people needed crops to eat, and various militaries needed training ranges.
    Damn it.
    “Have you talked to Philip about this?” Mercurio asked. “It would be like him to hide a significant find of Kawa’il artifacts.”
    “You’re being a bit of a bastard,” Lina pointed out graciously.
    “I learned from the very best. King Philip. My offer and my storeroom are still open to you, should you find yourself in Tulum Pueblo at any time.”
    “Thanks,” she said through her teeth. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but my other line is blinking.” A lie.
    “But of course.” Mercurio’s rich laughter came over the line. “I look forward to seeing you, mi amiga muy hermosa .”
    Lina disconnected and stared at the paperwork on her desk. Silently she cursed her father’s inability to yield even the smallest inch of possible prestige or scholarly credits when it came to his work. It was his and his alone. No sharing.
    Mercurio had recognized that and moved on to a place where the work could be just as much his. To Philip that was unforgivable.
    Mercurio can be a bastard, but he’s right this time, Lina admitted silently.
    She had learned about her father’s limitations and hisbrilliance the hard way. Now she simply kept as much distance as she could, though she intensely missed being on his digs.
    It was the same for her mother. Celia was brilliant in her chosen field of marketing artifacts. She had human manipulation down to a fine art—except for Philip. Lina hated the poison that flowed between the two fonts of knowledge in her chosen field. She could go thirsty or poison herself.
    Pull it out of the past, Lina told herself harshly. No matter how much I wish otherwise, those two won’t change. All I can control is my own reaction to their reality.
    She went back to her work, immersing herself in researching what she could about the artifacts in the photos.
    A knock came on her office door. The loud, impatient sound told her it wasn’t the first time the person had knocked.
    “Lina?” called Hunter’s voice. “You still in there?”
    “Yes.” The sound was hoarse. She swallowed. “I’m here.”
    “You eaten lunch?”
    She realized that she had forgotten the time, not unusual when she was working. “Ah, no.”
    “Neither have I,” Hunter said, opening the door. “Missed breakfast, too. Grab what you need and let’s go. There’s a place called Omar’s. You been there?”
    “I’ve heard it’s great,” she said, shutting down her computer.
    “Never tried it?”
    “Not the kind of place or area that I wanted to go in alone,” she said.
    “Smart lady.”
    Lina looked up. Hunter seemed to fill the doorway. Whatever he’d been doing in the past hours hadn’t left him in a good mood. There was an edge to his mouth and his eyes that made her glad she hadn’t made him mad.
    At least she hoped she hadn’t.
    “Long day already?” she asked.
    “It’ll do.”
    “Know the feeling.”
    “Wait,” he said as she stood up. “Better to do this here than over sloppy enchiladas.”
    She watched as he carefully removed something from the pocket of his