Beautiful Sacrifice

you come from,” Jase said, meaning it.
    Lina shrugged. “On paper. These days, ‘nobility’ puts tortillas and beans on the table by working just like real people.”
    Jase grinned, liking her. “I’ve met some who don’t look at it that way.”
    “So have I. That’s why I’m in America and they aren’t.”
    “Can you tell us about this Kawa’il cult?” Jase asked, thinking of the basement he and Hunter had seen that morning. But it seemed a little more distant now. Bearable.
    “As you would expect of a transitional religion—” Lina began.
    “Transitional?” Jase interrupted.
    “End of Maya rule, beginning of Spanish,” Hunter said without looking up from whatever he was sketching.
    “Gotcha,” Jase said. He smiled at Lina. “Sorry for the interruption. I’m a cop, not a scholar.”
    Lina smiled back. “Ask whatever and whenever you want. It’s how we both learn.”
    “That’s why you’re a good teacher,” Hunter said. “You know that learning flows both ways.”
    She enjoyed the warmth going through her at Hunter’s offhand compliment entirely too much. She shifted against the desk, trying to fit into skin that felt a little too tight.
    “The end of any culture through war is a violent time,” Lina said, her voice husky, her eyes on Hunter, not Jase. “The cult of Kawa’il reflected that. He was a god of blood sacrifice and death. If my interpretations of the glyphs associated with him are correct, Kawa’il communicated exclusively through blood and sacred smoke.”
    “Didn’t all the Maya?” Jase asked.
    “It’s a matter of degree,” Lina said, looking at him. “Some gods are appeased with corn pollen, flowers, liquor, jade objects, food, that sort of thing. Kawa’il demanded more blood and sacrifice than other gods. Apparently a great deal more. I suspect that nobles who survived the ongoing war with the Spanish and the anger of their own people were in high demand as, er, conduits to Kawa’il.”
    Hunter’s pencil paused.
    Lina saw his bleak expression, and Jase’s, and hurried to explain. “Keep in mind that it was a horrible time for the Maya. War, subjugation, disease, their already declining civilization in pieces around them. They must have been desperate to know the minds of their gods, to understand why such calamities had come.”
    Jase nodded. “So this Kawa’il ruled?”
    “Only after the Spanish conquest, that we know of, and only in a very small part of Maya territory. On Reyes Balam land in Quintana Roo and government land in Belize. Thepresence of a god Kawa’il isn’t accepted by most of the academic community. My father has spent his life trying to prove it.”
    “What do you think of the artifacts you saw in the photos?” Jase said.
    “My gut says Kawa’il. My mind needs proof.”
    “How about this?” Hunter asked, handing her the sketch pad.
    Lina looked at the surprisingly good rendition of a jaguar altar, but it was the second sketch that drew a quick breath from her.
    Hunter waited, savoring the scent of her and the warmth of her breasts swaying so close to him that if he moved his hand just a few inches…
    “How big was the first artifact you sketched?” Lina asked.
    Hunter forced himself to focus on the drawing rather than her tempting breasts. “The table was big enough to hold a man. From where and in what condition we found it, the table was associated with…rituals.”
    “An altar, then. Was there a channel to allow blood to run off into a Chacmool?”
    “The light wasn’t good enough to tell,” Hunter said.
    “Where did you see this?” Lina asked.
    “The other side of town,” Jase said. “One of the barrios.”
    His voice caressed the Spanish word in a way that told her he was fluent in the language, perhaps had been raised speaking it. Not unusual along the Mexican-American border.
    “Is it Kawa’il?” Jase asked, touching the edge of the drawing.
    “It could be. It certainly is patterned after sacrificial altars of the time just before the Spanish came.” She frowned. “You said a basement. Is the altar in private hands?”
    “Not anymore,” Jase said. “We arrested the gangbangerson murder and drug charges. The table will be entered as evidence and stored in someone’s evidence warehouse.”
    “Could I see it?”
    “If necessary,” Jase said.
    “You don’t want to,” Hunter said at the same time.
    “Why?” Lina asked, looking at Hunter.
    “Let’s just say it seemed to be a bloody active