by Ann Aguirre
Now I felt like he was leading up to an interrogation. “I travel a lot . . . and we haven’t been together long.” Massive understatement.
“Well, don’t let tonight put you off,” he said. “While there’s always a certain risk in dating a cop, it’s usually not quite like this.”
No shit. But I finally got it. He was being paternal and protective because he thought my bowed head and silence hinted at shock or traumatic stress.
“I’m just afraid for him,” I said quietly. “You’ll make sure nobody can get to him, won’t you?”
“My word on it. I’ll post guards on his hospital room, and when he’s recovered enough, I’ll oversee his transfer myself.” He hesitated. “You understand, for security reasons, you won’t be permitted any contact with him while he’s in protective custody.”
If he expected me to pitch a fit, he was mistaken. “I understand.”
Whatever else he might have said was forestalled by the arrival of a woman who could only be Jesse’s mother. She looked exactly as he’d described her: small, brown, and round like a partridge. Her dark hair stood on end, and her makeup had smeared from the tears. A tall, lean man trailed in her wake; I saw more resemblance to Jesse in him. I stood as they approached the waiting area.
“Mike,” Jesse’s dad greeted Lieutenant Glencannon. “What news?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“Oh, thank God.” Mrs. Saldana burst into tears and her husband pulled her into his arms as easy as breathing. He stroked her back while talking quietly to Jesse’s boss.
I felt like an interloper and I had just decided to slip away when Mrs. Saldana raised her head. “You must be the girl Jesse wouldn’t tell me about. I’m glad to meet you, but sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
Ironic, I had just agreed to have dinner with them, and here they were. I mustered a smile. I felt vaguely surprised he’d mentioned me to his parents. Jesse was so different from any man I’d ever dated; he made no secret of his emotions or his intentions.
“Me too. I’m Corine, by the way.”
I extended a hand, only to have her tug me into a motherly embrace. She patted my back gently, as if she thought I might break down . . . because normal women didn’t handle gunshots with such aplomb. As I’d known all along, I wasn’t the girl she expected. But I returned the hug, absorbing the warmth. Jesse’s dad put a hand on my shoulder—just that, only that, and it was both awful and enlightening. I’d forgotten what family felt like.
“If you folks will excuse me, I have some arrangements to make.” Glencannon strode away.
A few seconds later, his parents let me go. I’d intended to leave, but it didn’t seem right, now. I sat as Mrs. Saldana asked, “Can you tell us what happened? The officer who came to the house only said he’d been shot.”
To keep Jesse’s story straight, I had to lie. Self-loathing spilled through me. “A while back, Jesse crossed a powerful cartel boss. His partner was dirty, and Jesse found out. Now Montoya wants revenge.” At her intake of breath, I hastened to add: “But Glencannon is pulling him off the street. They’re going to do a sting or something to arrest the guy. Jesse won’t be hurt further.”
Lie after lie after lie. But I found I wanted to protect her faith in a world that worked according to certain laws, where the guilty were punished and good men didn’t die for no reason. Relief etched her features. Mr. Saldana rubbed her back gently; he looked so much like Jesse, just older and more weathered, that it hurt me to look at him. I could have this, if I was brave enough. If I survive.
We waited about an hour before a nurse came to give us an update. “He’s in stable condition. He has some healing to do, but there’s no permanent harm.”
“When can we see him?” Mrs. Saldana demanded.
“You can look in on him now, if you like, but he won’t be awake for hours yet.”
Feeling like an impostor the whole time, I followed the Saldanas down the hall to Jesse’s room. Against the pale sheets, his skin glowed tawny, but it didn’t make up for the lack of life in his face. Attached to machines and tubes, he struck me as fragile for the first time since I’d met him.
I’d made a mistake in turning to my friends in this mess. When I allied with Escobar, I had the right idea. If this vendetta caused him casualties, I didn’t care. I simply couldn’t risk further harm to people who mattered.
“I’m going to sit with him awhile,” Mrs. Saldana said, eyes again wet with tears.
Murmuring a noncommittal nothing, I fled.
As Montoya had known, these attacks closed all the usual doors to me. Part of me wanted to summon Kel, but he had other orders. I’d never ask him to choose between his mission and me.
I hurried out of the hospital and ran toward the Forester. I couldn’t use this vehicle much longer. Montoya’s men knew what Jesse drove; they’d known where he lived too. He might have people watching the hospital as well.
In the dark between parking lot lights, the shadows swarmed. Maybe the sorcerer couldn’t get to me as long as I wore this pendant, but a bullet could. At each sound, each movement, I flinched, and my hands shook by the time I got to the vehicle. The Forester beeped as I turned off the alarm and slid inside. When I started the engine, I half expected the SUV to blow up.
Instead, as I took off, my phone rang. I answered without checking the number. “Yeah?”
“Can you come get me?” Even through the static, Shannon sounded shaky. “Chuch and Eva are going to her mom’s, but I don’t feel like I can tag along.” I heard Chuch arguing that she should go and Shannon’s stubborn refusal.
Never mind that I didn’t know where I was going, or that I shouldn’t be driving this car around. She needed me. “Where are you?”
“I’ll have them drop me off.” She named an all-night restaurant near the mall.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
In fact, I cut the trip to ten. She was inside nursing a Coke when I arrived. Her face lit with relief when she saw me. I dropped a few bills on the table and assessed her physical state. In the fluorescent light, I could see smears of soot on her pale skin. She’d washed her face, but the backs of her hands showed signs of the fire.
“How bad is it?” I asked, sitting down beside her instead of across the booth.
“Bad. They took out most of the front room and couple of Chuch’s cars.”
“The Opal and the Impala?” I guessed.
She nodded. “He’s really pissed.” That made me wince. “No, not at you. I’m afraid of what he’s going to do once he gets Eva settled.”
Shit, that sounded like Chuch. He’d once made it clear what would happen if anyone went after his family. Montoya had rattled a dangerous cage by targeting his wife and unborn child. God knew I didn’t want to wind up on the wrong side of him, but he might bite off more than he could chew, alone.
I gave her a hug and she returned it fiercely. For just a moment I closed my eyes and whispered in my head: Please let me keep her safe.
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” I said, regarding Chuch. “So can I put you on a bus? It’s a long way to Oklahoma City, and you’ll be safer with your dad.”
She grinned, visibly recovering from her shock and fright. “I wouldn’t know what to do with ‘safer.’ Hanging around with you is the most fun I ever had.”
A little whuff of a laugh escaped me. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe. But so’re you.” She made a duh face. “And you get me. You know where I come from. That’s why we’re best friends.”
I’d never thought of it in so many words, but we were—of course we were. And unlike Sara, who had been my best pal in Tampa, I could never leave Shannon behind. At this point, she was the most important person in my life. Though men might come and go, our friendship was forever.
“Okay, then. We have to keep moving.” I led the way to the Forester.
Right now, Montoya’s men were looking for us in places where we’d gone before. I’
d miscalculated in coming to Laredo. That meant I had to break my patterns and develop new habits.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“First, La Rosa Negra.” It was a little dive I’d visited once before with Chuch, full of Escobar’s men. I hoped I remembered how to get there. If the bastard wouldn’t send soldiers to guard me, I’d find them. If luck played a part, I might even find Esteban there. “After that, we’ll see.”
Shannon wrapped her arms around Butch, who had crawled out of my purse and into her lap. “I trust you have a plan?”
“In fact, I do.”
I couldn’t fight. My skills with a gun were indifferent. But I had a good brain, and I wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of me. If they wanted a chase, I’d lead them a merry one. I knew how to be prey, and when they caught me, I’d show them I’d grown teeth.
I just needed one night to prepare first.
The Black Rose
I didn’t find La Rosa Negra on the first try. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t listed in the GPS, and I drove around the backstreets of Laredo before stumbling into an adjacent avenue that I recognized. Bangers and wannabes stared after us, assessing the likelihood of jacking our ride. If only they knew.
After a couple more turns, we arrived at the same crumbling green stucco building, same Corona sign in the window as the last time I’d visited; a line of restored classic cars ran from the front door around the block. A few men stood outside, smoking, the haze curling up toward the sky. Distant city lights dimmed the stars, making it seem as though a gray veil lay over the world.
I recognized Ricardo Arjona playing inside, “Sin Ti . . . Sin Mi.” I loved his voice, mellow, soulful, and full of longing. As I stepped inside, I remembered how Chance had shown me a side of him I didn’t know existed. Yearning and melancholy twisted up inside me; a small part of me wished he hadn’t run from the idea of making a real effort instead of offering empty words, but I’d made up my mind to move on. No more of that. Jesse Saldana defended me with his life; that meant everything.
My gaze touched the familiar features of the cantina: scarred wood floor, mismatched tables and chairs, amber paper lanterns, and neon cerveza signs. Only the oil panting of the lady with the black rose distinguished this dive from any other. Like last time, hard-eyed men studied us with watchful suspicion, and I didn’t see Esteban anywhere.
“You sure about this?” Shannon whispered.
In fact, I wasn’t, but it was the only idea I had. Kel had said, Muster your allies and prepare for war. Not friends. He hadn’t meant Chuch and Eva or even Jesse; I just hadn’t glimpsed enough of the future yet to realize it. In retrospect, I realized he’d told me as much as he could—without risking spoilers. I had to make the decisions on my own, not through his direct intervention.
Knowing I couldn’t show fear or hesitation, I strode to the center of the bar. “Apague la música.”
“¿Por qué?” one of the dancers demanded, even as the bartender complied.
I pulled my pendant outside my shirt and held it up, then spoke in English. “This is why. Who recognizes this?”
As I’d hoped, a little gasp went through the room as I spun, giving them a better look. I’d gambled everything on Escobar’s being too much the egoist not to use his own personal mark on a protective amulet. The mood shifted, and the danger passed.
A tall, dark-haired man with gray at his temples stood up and invited us to join him. From his expression, he was high man present, so I’d do business with him. His skin held the weathered bronze of one who had worked a great deal outdoors, making it hard to judge his age.
“I am Francisco Zaragoza.” He extended a hand to both Shannon and me. No spark, which meant he was a normal human.
“Mucho gusto,” I murmured. “I’m Corine Solomon and this is my friend Shannon Cheney.”
Zaragoza inclined his head. “What does Señor Escobar wish of us?”
I knew only what I wanted. “I’m waging a war against Montoya. I need four of your best men.”
“Best in what sense? The men in this room possess a wide variety of skills.”
My gaze met his. “Destruction of property and, if it comes down to it, killing. Montoya hit a couple of sites today, quite against my interests.”
“I understand.” He surveyed the room with assessing eyes. “Then I will give you García, Petrel, Santos, and Morales. You understand, however, that I must verify your authority?”
“Of course,” I said quietly. “I could’ve stolen the amulet.”
Zaragoza’s eyes flickered. “That would be most . . . unwise.”
“Go ahead. Call it in.”
Beside me, Shannon practically vibrated with tension. It went without saying what would happen to us if Escobar denied me. As Zaragoza went outside with his cell phone, the waitress stopped at the table.
“Something to drink?” she asked.
Given my current endeavor, only one drink would do. “Shady Lady.”
In a place like this, she wouldn’t be carded, but Shannon still ordered a Coke. “Gotta keep my head clear. I’ll be your designated driver.”
She had a point. I handed the server a bill to cover our drinks and murmured, “Keep it.”
The waitress brightened and went to give our order to the bartender. It didn’t take long for her to serve us. Mine was pretty, made with melon liqueur, tequila, and grapefruit juice, garnished with cherry and lime, and it tasted better than it looked. I’d be the first to admit that I needed a drink, after the turn my life had taken.
Shortly, Zaragoza returned, phone in hand. “He wants to speak with you.”
I took the cell and said, “Hello?”
“So you make your first move.” Escobar sounded amused. “I wondered how long it would take.”
“You said I should stay alive. You never said how or using what resources.”
“I know,” he answered. “Which is why I am giving you the soldiers you ask for. This should prove quite entertaining.”
“I’m so glad.” I gave the phone back to Zaragoza, who spoke a few more words in Spanish and then terminated the call.
“It seems you speak the truth,” he said, sitting down once more. “It took four phone calls to reach Señor Escobar, but he knew who you were at once.”
“Excellent. In addition to the men, I need a safe house in the area, something you don’t think Montoya would know about. A recent purchase would be best.”
Zaragoza thought for a moment. “We have a place down in the industrial area. It’s not a good neighborhood, but people are unlikely to notice any strange occurrences there and even less likely to answer the police, if they ask.”
I paused. “You’re not even going to ask how I know him?”
“I have learned the hard way to restrain my curiosity,” he said with a faint trace of irony. “But if I had to guess, I would say you’re his latest brujas.”
Shannon smirked at me. With her black clothing, dyed hair, and heavily outlined eyes, she fit the profile. I neither confirmed nor denied his supposition, but merely smiled. If fear laced their obedience, even better—they’d be less likely to cross us.
“Give me the address.”
He scrawled it on a napkin. God, I could get used to this kind of power. No wonder people worked for Escobar. His name carried serious weight.
“Anything else, patrona?”
“Find me a property owned by Montoya, something it will hurt him to lose. Something . . . expensive.”
Zaragoza grinned, showing a slight gap between his two front teeth. “This mission, I could get to like it a whole lot.”
“Can you get me the info?” I remembered it took a day or two for Esteban to get his hands on a list of properties, but I suspected Zaragoza could get faster results with Escobar’s name lending weight.
“Let me make a few calls.”
Shannon leaned over and whispered, “You can be scary, you know that?”
I allowed a sharp smile. “Good.
We’ll need that.”
For a few moments, I watched the couples dancing. Now Paulina sang “Causa y Efecto”—a more up-tempo song than one would expect to hear in here. It hurt a little watching them twirl and spin. Despite Shannon’s presence beside me, I felt lonely and unsure, but at the same time, a core of pride grew—that I was handling this myself, just like the fall into the river. I’d make Montoya wish he’d never been born for killing two innocent men, hurting Jesse, burning Chuch and Eva’s house, and rendering me homeless.
By the time Shan finished her second Coke, Zaragoza returned. “He’s got a place in Sonterra, far north side of San Antonio.”
“Perfect. I have a sketch here. . . .” I dug it out of my bag; it was very battered, but at least it hadn’t gone into the jungle with us. “Do you recognize this man?”
Zaragoza froze and then crossed himself. “Madre de Dios.”
“I take it you do,” Shannon said.
The breath slipped out of him in a pained sound. “That’s Diego Montoya’s younger brother, Vicente.”
Holy shit. I hadn’t been prepared for that. “Tell me what you know about him.”
“Not much. He’s been out of Mexico for a long time.”
I nodded. “Anything you can share would be helpful.”
Zaragoza thought for a moment and then conferred with some of his men. “He’s always been a hedge wizard, little training. And for a while, he managed their business in Colombia, but lately the word is Diego sent him to the islands after his warlock died to learn the dark magick.”
“What islands?” Shannon asked.
I gave her a nod; I would’ve asked that myself. Leaning forward, I sipped my drink, listening, and considered what this meant. If he had some magickal talent even then, Vicente would have been present for the ritual Min conducted, and he would’ve known it for a true summoning. The Knights of Hell couldn’t be faked. But he must have been sent back to Colombia when she was stalling there at the end, claiming the astrological elements weren’t aligned for curse removal. Otherwise he’d have certainly told Diego that she was full of it. Therefore, the dynamics had shifted, and there was no telling what he’d learned since then. The scope of his power must be considerable since he’d sent Caim after me.