He stared at her, and she stared back. Finally, he said, “As long as you hold up a promise to keep my shadow-shifting abilities secret and not tell anyone you’ve seen me, then I’ll consider it.”
“Just like that, you’re going to believe me?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say I was going to believe you, but the sooner I get this damn mission done, the sooner I can leave and never have to deal with you again. I’ll agree to most anything to make that happen.”
His words shouldn’t hurt—after all, she had wanted him to forget about her—but they did. Seeing Jorge had given her a small glimpse of her past, and had reminded her that she was not just an undercover agent, but also a person with her own likes and dislikes. More than anything, she wanted to have friends again.
She barely prevented herself from starting at that dangerous line of thinking. Sabrina ‘the person’ didn’t matter during an undercover mission. Only success mattered.
Still, she hoped that something of the old Jorge was still around and he wouldn’t betray her at the first opportunity. Torture made people unpredictable, and while Jorge had only mentioned being restrained and drugged, she had a feeling there was more to it.
Her best bet was to keep her concerns and hurt to herself, so she said, “Then we both agree finishing this ASAP is all that matters.” He nodded and she added, “Then I’ll start being clearer. At the time I turned you in, I knew how you felt about me, Jorge. It was a distraction to both you and me, so I need to find a way to get rid of you. Getting you kicked out had seemed like the best thing at the time, but I am truly sorry for the events that happened afterward. I had never intended for you, let alone your sister, to go through such hell because of one five minute meeting with our old superior. If I’d known he would sell you out to the crazy Collector lady, I never would’ve betrayed you.”
She’d expected some kind of anger or demand of explanation, but he surprised her when he asked, “Why can’t you leave the Fed League?”
This was going to be dangerously close to admitting the truth, but fuck it. Nothing else would work. “Because I only joined the Fed League in order to find a way to take it down.”
Chapter Five
Jorge had expected Sabrina to say something along the lines of, “They’d threatened to hurt so-and-so if I didn’t stay.” The Fed League had something in common with the Collector—they both tended to use people against you to get what they wanted.
Instead, she’d blindsided him and he couldn’t help but blink. “What?”
Sabrina raised her chin. “I know it sounds crazy, but you worked with me long enough to know that I’m good at collecting information.”
“Gathering information is one thing, but single-handedly taking down a semi-crazy organization is another. What were you going to do, charm your way to the top and assassinate someone? Fucking hell, Sabrina. That’s just naive and stupid.”
Her eyes flashed. “Gee, and you wonder why I never told you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Hold on a second. We talked all the time before. And old Jorge was a whole fucking lot nicer than I am. I’m starting to wonder if we were friends at all.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jorge wanted to take them back. He was supposed to hate Sabrina Ono, so why did he care if any of it had been real.
Because, asshole, deep down you’re starting to believe she didn’t turn you in to the Collector on purpose.
No. Screw that. He had a mission to finish before the Collector’s people found him. The longer he argued with Sabrina, the more time he gave them to track him down.
Then Sabrina did something he should’ve expected, but had overlooked, and she bolted toward her cell phone.
“Shit.” He went after her, but she had the phone before he could tackle her to the ground. They rolled, but Jorge managed to pin her through a combination of securing her legs to the ground with his weight and holding her wrists up above her head.
She wriggled and tried to throw him off, but it wasn’t working and he was too angry to let his dick take control of the situation. Instead, he focused on his irritation with both Sabrina and himself. “I know your escape tricks, princess. I tried to be nice and gave you time to explain things, but now we’re going to do it my way.”
She moved again, but it was still useless. Her angry eyes bored into his. “What? Are you going to yell at me some more?”
“No. I have something a hell of a lot more fun in mind."
Harry Watkins scanned Sabrina Ono’s report and then put down his phone. How he would respond depended on what information he could get out of the woman currently strapped to the metal table in front of him.
He had had one of his people follow Sabrina to the restaurant. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about Ono, but the elementary school plan needed to go off without a hitch or his rival—Luis Gomez—would never stop poaching the Feiru with latent abilities in the area. Watkins was this close to claiming the whole Yucatan peninsula as his territory.
He took the woman’s wet chin and forced her to look up at him. “Are you ready to tell me why Sabrina Ono was seen with that man at your restaurant, or do you need some more convincing?”
The woman named Yolanda looked from him to the man standing above her with a wet cloth and back again. “I-I don’t know anything. She’s just a regular customer. I know her name is Sabrina Ono and that she really likes Chaya juice, but that’s it, I swear.”
He released her chin, signaled to the blonde woman standing on the far side of the room, and she came over. He took the paper from her hands and lowered it to the waitress’s face. “The back of this receipt is written in code. I have my people working on it. I suggest that you cooperate now, or you’re not going to like what happens when I find out the truth later.”
The woman had on a strong face, but her voice wavered as she said, “How can I tell you what I don’t know?”
This was getting him nowhere. The easiest way to get the human talking would be to use the special “soldier” the Collector had lent him. The blonde female Siren could sing a command and the human wouldn’t be able to resist; she’d be telling all of her secrets within seconds.
But the Siren had to rest her abilities between uses or risk losing her voice forever. Watkins would rather save her skills for something more important.
Instead, he nodded to his man standing above the woman’s head and said, “Again.”
The man lowered the cloth over the woman’s face and another man brought over a bucket of water. Once the man started pouring, he ignored the waitress’s struggles and turned toward the Siren. “Tell your mistress I’m going to need more soldiers, preferably ones that can help me capture someone with at least half a brain.”
The Siren nodded and exited the room. The Collector was as anxious as he to get rid of Luis Gomez. With him gone, she would have full access to the latent abilities in the area to fill out her army. Not only would it make the bitch happy, it would make Watkins a very rich and powerful man.
He turned back toward the waitress and signaled for his people to stop waterboarding her. Once the wet cloth was removed from Yolanda’s face, she started sputtering. He waited a second to avoid getting spit on before he leaned down, grabbed her hair, and yanked. Hard. “Last chance. Tell me what you know about Sabrina Ono and the coded message, or the next time I’ll let you drown.”
The woman shook her head. “I-I don’t have anything new to tell you.”
He released her hair and leaned back. He looked to his men. “Do what you will with her before you kill her. Report to me what you find afterward.”
The man nodded and Watkins turned away. Maybe once the men had raped her and cut her up a bit, she would start talking.
Sabrina tugged on the cloth restraints tied around her wrists and legs, but they held firm. The restraints were tied to the metal frame holding up the bed. She might be able to get free if she had a few hours, but she needed to get free as soon as possible. Jorge had ta
ken her phone and read her message. Yet the bastard hadn’t shared what the message had contained. If she didn’t reply soon, everything would be compromised.
True, things could be a lot worse. At least she was still alive.
Jorge had changed more than she’d thought. She started to believe what he’d said about the kinder, shyer version of Jorge Salazar being dead. He took what he wanted, didn’t hesitate, and was more straightforward than she’d ever hope to be. The drastic changes should make it easier to distance herself from him and use him as a tool.
But deep down, in a place she barely wanted to admit existed, she kind of liked the changes in him.
Between her time in Rio and here in Merida, she’d had to keep her head down and blend in or risk being discovered. After three years, however, she was getting tired of having to hide what she thought remained of her true personality.
Jorge might be frustrating as hell—and more than a little bit of an asshole—but it’d felt good to get angry and even dish out a few sarcastic quips. He would be able to handle anything she threw his way. Considering she’d irritated the hell out of her sister and parents with her tendency to argue and talk back as a child, standing up to her was quite an achievement.
The noise of shuffling furniture and random objects stopped and Sabrina watched the door. Sure enough, Jorge appeared and leaned against the doorjamb. “Well, at least you’re a smart one. I didn’t find anything remotely personal in the apartment.” He held up her cell phone. “The only real information I could find was on here.”
Remember, showing your anger will only make things worse. She took a calming breath and acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary. That should annoy Jorge. “And when do you plan on sharing that information with me?” She darted a glance to her restraints and back to his face. “I can’t do anything if Watkins sends a reply and I don’t answer.”
He moved to stand beside the bed and looked down at her. From her supine position, it was impossible to miss the strength in his shoulders or the determined look in his eye. This version of Jorge could be dangerous.
“The message wasn’t from Watkins, but some guy named Miguel.”
Okay, she hadn’t expected that answer. Miguel was her contact Yolanda’s boss. “What did he want?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and his knee brushed against her side. She nearly jumped at the touch—in a good way. Jorge didn’t seem to have noticed the way his casual touch branded her skin, and that irritated her. Why should his touch affect her and not him? She definitely didn’t need the distraction.
He brushed her with his leg again and it took everything she had to remain still as he answered, “Yolanda never came back from her break, and he was wondering if you knew where she was.”
Dread started to pool in the pit of her stomach. Yolanda’s disappearance was probably related in some way to Sabrina or her work. “Did he say anything else?”
He shook his head. “No. What aren’t you telling me?”
Time to stick close to the truth without giving it. “Yolanda was helping me with some information. The fact she disappeared right after you showed up tells me that someone saw us together, and my entire participation in Watkins’s assignment might be compromised.” She tugged on the restraints. “I need you to free me so I can try to salvage this situation. If Yolanda gets hurt because of your stupid-ass move, then I will never forgive you.”
“So now you have other people working with you?” He leaned down until his face was only a few inches from hers. “You’re still keeping something from me. Save us both some time and start talking.”
She growled. Screw liking this version of Jorge. “No. I’m not going to risk my friend’s life by wasting my time arguing with you. Let me go.”
Jorge leaned back and stood up. “No. I think you need some time to cool off and reconsider telling me what you know.”
He walked to the door and Sabrina started to feel a sense of panic. “Jorge Salazar, let me go! Whatever may have happened to you, I never would’ve guessed that you’d let someone die just to further your own goals.”
He stopped when he reached the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll look into your friend’s disappearance. I still have contacts in the area who can help.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Nice to see how you really think of me, but I’m not a cold-hearted bastard. Just a determined one.”
He took a step out of the room and she said, “Wait, you aren’t seriously going to leave me tied up here, are you?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? But don’t get too comfy. We’ll be moving locations in a few hours.”
With that, he left her.
Jorge went into the bathroom and shut the door to get some privacy. Sure, he needed to make some calls and check on Sabrina’s friend, but he also needed to work on killing his erection.
He’d never really thought about tying a woman to a bed before, but the image of Sabrina tied up and vulnerable had sent blood rushing to his cock. That woman had gotten one thing right—he was different from the man she’d known before.
Hell, before his time with the Collector, he’d barely had enough nerve to try to kiss Sabrina. Now he imagined taking her tied up on the bed.
Think of something else. If he’d had any chance at all with Sabrina, it was gone now. Especially as he was going to have to treat her more as a prisoner until either she worked with him willingly or they succeeded in capturing Watkins.
That thought kicked his head back into the game. He took out the brand new burner phone he’d brought with him and punched in his DEFEND contact’s number. The phone rang once before a woman answered, “Yes?”
“Santos, I need you to check a few things out for me.”
“Have you gotten anywhere with your assignment?”
“Nearly. I’ve tapped a few people I used to know, but one person has gone missing. I need you to check on a waitress named Yolanda from Cafe Maya. She’s disappeared, and I think it might be because of me.”
“You don’t even have a last name or address for me? I have other things to do, Salazar. Unless you can give me a concrete reason why you need to find this woman, I’m going to pass.”
Jorge clenched the phone. DEFEND had assigned Isabel Santos as his contact here in Merida, but the woman never made things easy. “I’ve got the Collector’s people to deal with, on top of being a wanted ex-Fed League member, and don’t have time for your complaints. If you have any issues, take it up with your leaders. Aislinn is the one who ordered you to help me in any way that you can.”
Aislinn was one of the co-leaders of DEFEND. Jorge might have only had a few phone conversations with the woman, but even he knew you did what she ordered, no questions asked. Santos, who’d worked for DEFEND for years, knew that even better than he did.
The line went silent for a few seconds. When Santos finally replied, her tone was unnaturally even. “Fine. Let’s say I find out information on this waitress. How can I contact you?”
“I have another cell phone I haven’t used and keep for emergencies. Here’s the number.” He gave it and then said, “One last thing. I need a safe house to use.”
“Demanding one, aren’t you?”
“Cut the shit. Just give me an address and tell me where to find the key.”
“Fine, dickwad. You ready?”
“Yes, sunshine, get on with it.”
He jotted down the information and hung up the phone before taking out the battery and tossing it on the ground. After smashing the phone with his boot, he ran his fingers through his hair and decided what to do next. Normally, he’d knock someone unconscious or use his shadow-shifting skills to transport a captive to a new location. Right now, however, he couldn’t do the latter because his powers hadn’t recharged yet, and Jorge had no wish to die trying to use them again before the twenty-four hour mark.
The former he didn’t want to do because of his fucking conscience. How that bastard had survived,
Jorge didn’t know, but he’d already tied Sabrina up. He didn’t want to see how much more uncooperative she’d become if he knocked her out.
But why should he care? Getting her to hate him more would make it easier to force her away once this was over. As long as her friend was possibly missing and those schoolchildren were still in danger, she’d do whatever it took to make both situations right—even if it meant working with him.
Jorge reached into one of the pockets of his BDU pants and took out the little assassin-slash-spy kit he always carried. He flipped it open, grabbed the small needle and bottle of drugs, and laid the case aside. As he filled the syringe with the clear liquid, he had a split-second flash of regret, but then he pushed that motherfucker aside and headed for the room holding Sabrina.
Chapter Six
Sabrina slowly opened her eyes, but the brightness made it feel like a thousand tiny needles were poking her eyeballs, so she promptly shut them again. What the hell? What would cause the light to hurt like that?
After about a minute, she tried to open her eyes again. This time she kept them open long enough to notice the pale blue color of the walls. This wasn’t her apartment, which meant Jorge must’ve moved them.
She closed her eyes again and tried to remember the last thing that had happened to her. Then it hit her—she remembered Jorge-the-asshole pricking her with a needle, and then nothing. Now forcing her eyes to remain open long enough to look around, she could see she was in a small bedroom with faded pictures on the walls and a small en suite bathroom off to the side. Her best guess was that this was a cheap hotel or a low-budget hostel room.
Her training prevented her from freaking out at waking up in a strange place. She’d been fortunate in the past and hadn’t yet experienced being drugged outside of her training days with the Feiru Liaison office down in Brazil. The feeling was unpleasant, like someone was banging a drum inside her head, but she’d live.
Shadow of Temptation (Asylums for Magical Threats #2.5) Page 4