In those early days after the master had sent them to live apart from him, they had been like little children again, running and playing and laughing with delight over each new discovery. It frightened some of the other women, but Tlemi felt she had been given all the gifts she could ever want: a beautiful home, good friends, and being Colotl’s woman. Even the price she had to pay for their new home had not weighed on her, not at first.

That had been a precious time, one that had ended brutally when the master had sent Segundo to them to explain their duties, and Mocaya had been found out.

The steward had come with his brutes and a man they had never seen before, a doctor from America. As soon as it was Mocaya’s turn to go to the seventh house and be examined, she had tried to flee. The men had run her down like a dog and dragged her back, and then the doctor sedated her, making her unable to keep her body changed as it was. That was when the secret she had been hiding had been revealed: she had been born with the body not of a woman, but of a man.

What Tlemi remembered most about that terrible day was how Segundo had smiled, just before he shot Mocaya in the head. He offered the same smile a week later when he brought Pici to Ihiyo.

Pici had cringed as Ihiyo exploded with rage, and then Segundo had pistol-whipped him into silence. As Ihiyo bled on the sands, the master’s steward had leaned over him and advised him to close his eyes while he did his duty.

Fortunately Pici was a petite, helpless girl who cried easily, and had appealed to something in Ihiyo. Or perhaps Ihiyo wanted to live more than he wanted to be with another man. Tlemi knew he didn’t close his eyes when he was with Pici, but every night, after she fell asleep, he wept for Mocaya.

Like many things she knew about their friends, Tlemi had never revealed it to them. Not even to Colotl, who had been Ihiyo’s friend since they were boys. He would have understood, but he already blamed himself for not knowing Ihiyo and Mocaya’s secret. It was why he had been so stubborn about the Americans.

“Tlemi?”

She looked over to see Colotl watching her from the doorway.

His long moonlight hair and silver eyes always seemed to glow against his brown skin, which was as dark as hers was pale. He had taken off his shirt and hung it around his neck, and from the sand still clinging to his ankles she knew he had been walking along his lines, not to check them but to think.

“You are back early.” Then, because she knew exactly why he had come to speak to her, she added, “He has seen to her.”

Some of the tension around his mouth eased. “Did she fight him?”

She shook her head, picking up the knife to finish slicing the mango. Knowing their lives depended on it, she had agreed to watch the Americans, but what she had witnessed troubled her. They were all well aware of why the master had sent them here, and if he discovered what the big man could do . . .

“Can you bring that down to the beach?” Colotl asked. “I need to check my lines.”

She nodded. Once he left, she took out a basket, placing the fruit and smoked fish in smaller containers before adding them and two of the colorful napkins Delores had embroidered.

Colotl met her on the pathway outside, taking the basket from her and lifting the lid. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw the red napkins covered with intricate designs in black thread. “It looks very good. I’m hungry.”

“I think it will please you.” She patted his shoulder twice before walking with him to the sand. Along the way she felt the air around them go completely still, although the trees overhead still swayed gently in the breeze.

A small crab scuttled toward her toes, his front claws snapping, only to encounter something that knocked him onto his back.

“What is it?” Colotl asked as soon as the barrier was in place.

“The American man.” She shook out the big coverlet and placed it on the sand. “He has changed.”

“Changed?”

“Not like Mocaya,” she said quickly. “His gift has changed. He healed the woman’s injuries.”

Colotl stopped by one of the poles he had driven into the sand and knelt down, making a pretense of testing the fishing line knotted to it. Without looking at her, he muttered, “Did he use his blood?”

“No, he used kisses and touching. It is the gift, not the master’s curse. He lives. He walks in the sunlight. He will not turn.” Tlemi felt impatient. “You have to call the others together and tell them what he is.”

His expression turned impassive. “Why would I do this?”

“Colotl, please.” She dropped down beside him. “With the gifts he has been given, the American could help us.”

He made a bitter sound. “Why would he do that?”

“He is still like us.” When he gave her a narrow look, she sighed. “If the master had brought him into his domain, he would be our brother. What does it matter now, anyway? Here we are no different.”

“No different? We don’t even speak the same language.” He stood and began reeling in the line. As it emerged from the surf, fish caught on the hooks knotted to it began flopping.

Tlemi knew exactly how they felt.

“Pici’s time is coming. Soon,” she reminded him. “She is too small and weak. You know what will happen if she dies. They will just bring another woman, and this time I think Ihiyo will go mad. Colotl.” His silence made her sit down on the sand and stare at the water. “Very well. Who will dig the grave for her? You, or me?”

“What would you have me do?” he demanded, taking her by the shoulders and dragging her to her feet. “Kill you to save them? I don’t know them. You are the other half of my soul. I can’t live without you. I won’t.”

“How much time do you think we have left together?” She picked up a piece of seaweed and idly wound it around her wrist. “One season? Two?”

“What are you talking about?”

She eyed him. “The master will not wait forever.”

He said nothing at first, and then his mouth flattened. “If it comes to that, we will give him what he wants.”

Tlemi had been taught to be obedient. She loved Colotl, and she deferred to his judgment in all things. Except this. “No. Never.”

“Do you think it is easy for me to say?” he demanded. “To even think? But if I have to choose—”

“Then Segundo will have to bring you another woman,” she promised him, “because on that day I will go into the water, and I will swim out to where it is dark, and I will not come back.”

“Tlemi.” His voice broke on her name. “I cannot lose you.”

“I will never do it,” she said simply. “Not for him, and not for you. But you know your duty, Colotl. Tie me up. Lock me away. I still have fingernails, and teeth. My veins are not so deep.”

He lifted his hand as if to strike her, but Tlemi didn’t flinch. In all their years together, Colotl had never once touched her in anger.

His hand moved slower than it should have, not to slap her face but to caress her cheek. “If you go into the dark water, so do I.”

All of the fight poured out of her as sobs tore at her throat. “Colotl. Please. This could be our only chance to live. To be free.”

He hauled her into his arms and held her as she wept. When Tlemi had no more tears, he used his shirt to dry her face.

“We cannot do this without the others,” he said slowly. “I will speak to them about the American tomorrow. If they refuse—”

Tlemi thought of Pici’s desperate eyes. “They will not.”

As Samuel brought the tray into the master suite, Charlotte rolled onto her side and looked at him. Although she smiled, her eyes were once more guarded and watchful.

“I was wondering where you were.” She glanced at the fruit salads he’d prepared. “Dinner in bed?”

“On the patio, I think,” he said, scooping up her robe and handing it to her.

She muffled a yawn with the backs of her fingers. “You want to watch the sunset?”

“Not especially.” He waited for her to rise before walking outside with her. “But if you stayed in bed, we probably wouldn’t be dining until well after midnight.”

“Or dawn.” She sat on the edge of one lounge and tightened the robe’s belt around her waist. “Are you a vegetarian?”

He sat across from her. “No.”

“That makes two of us.” She accepted the plate he offered and picked up a slice of mango. “You did notice that there’s no protein in our convenient little pantry.”

“That’s why I’m planning to do a little fishing in the morning.” He set his plate aside to watch her eat, which she did with delicate greed. She also kept her gaze averted from his face, which made him wonder what was going on in her head. “Are you having any second thoughts?”

“Why would I?” She bit into a strawberry and licked the red juice from her lips. “We’re consenting adults, we agreed on this together, and having sex with you will save me a lot of pain and suffering. It’s all good.”

He wondered whether she would feel the same in nine months. “Whatever happens here, Charlotte, I want you to know that when we return to the States, I’ll look after you.”

“That’s decent of you, mío, but I take care of myself.” She stood. “We should look around outside for the source of the electricity. They may have some tools or other things stored in a utility building that we can use.” She went back inside.

To give her some time for herself, Samuel ate and watched the sunset. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of pregnancy, much less discuss it out loud, but he couldn’t keep the speculation out of his head. They would be having sex at least once a day, and he had yet to find any form of protection they could use. If Charlotte had been on the pill for birth control, she no longer had access to it. That meant they could conceive a child together in as little time as a few weeks.

“No.” Charlotte emerged, dressed in two sarongs she had folded and fashioned into an impromptu halter dress.