At the edge of the platform, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man in a business suit was urging the nearby women to come with him. A buyer? Why wouldn’t he have run when the shooting started? Raquel held the others back, unconvinced by whatever he was saying. Smart woman.
Travis fired a volley of shots out into the audience area. His weight, combined with sheer terror, was squeezing the air out of Jane’s lungs, and she tried to wiggle out from beneath him, but he told her to stay put.
“And tell the girls to go with Miguel.”
“The guy in the suit? He’s with you?”
“Yes. He has a vehicle. He can get them out.”
“Raquel!” she called. “He’s a friend! Go with him.”
The woman raised her eyebrows, but another series of shots decided her. She and the other three Hispanic women crawled across the stage, keeping low, and slipped off the side with Miguel. Helene and Fritz, however, stayed close to Jane.
“Okay,” said Travis. “On the count of three, we’re out. Everyone ready? One… two…”
On “three,” they all jumped and ran for the side of the stage. They were almost there when Fritz tripped and went down. Jane and Helene turned back, but Travis almost threw them off the stage.
“Stay!” He tossed Jane a gun and grabbed another from his boot, but by the time he went back for the boy, Juan had clambered onto the stage and had him in a choke hold.
“Give me the kid,” Travis said. Juan shook his head.
Helene tried to climb back onto the stage, but Jane held her down. “Don’t distract them.”
“He can’t protect you. You know that,” Travis said.
Juan clung to Fritz. “The boy needs to come with me. I need him.”
Oh, hell. The training. “You don’t need him,” Jane said. “Look at him. He’s just a sick little kid like your brother. He can’t keep the Black away.”
Juan backed up a couple of steps.
“Look at him, Juan. What good is he to you? Velasquez is gone. Hurting Fritzie won’t help you. Velasquez deserted you because he was a coward. He couldn’t protect you, either. You need to face this yourself. Decide whether you want to live in the light or let yourself go into the dark. It’s a choice. Your choice, no one else’s. You can fight the Black. But not by hurting a child.”
Juan looked down at Fritz. As he did, more shots sounded, one hitting him in the shoulder. He curled over, and first Jane thought he was trying to use the child as a shield, but then she realized he was pushing the boy toward the edge of the stage. Helene reached up, and Juan dropped Fritz into her arms just as bullets tore through him, knocking him backward. Helene screamed again, and Travis dropped off the stage next to them and hustled them down a narrow corridor.
“Moving, boss,” he said.
“What?” asked Helene.
“He’s talking to friends,” Jane explained. “He’s got an earpiece.”
They came to a door, and Travis told them to wait, pushing all three of them against the wall while he poked his head outside.
“We’re clear out back. Gonna make a run for it.” He listened for a second, then nodded. “Got it.”
They dashed out into the afternoon’s fading sunlight. Dust rose around their feet, choking Jane, and she saw that they were in an unpaved parking area behind the warehouse.
“Head for the forest,” Travis instructed, “but don’t go in. They booby-trapped a lot of spots, and we’re not sure we disabled them all.”
“Just fucking great,” Jane said.
“Welcome to life with HSE.”
They ran for the trees at the edge of the woods.
Chapter 16
THE HECTIC PACE of the firefight did not give Eric much chance to find Velasquez. Inside, they encountered far more guards than expected. Eric had gone through the front and was dealing with two determined opponents when Mac’s voice in his headset alerted him to the fact that he’d had to back out the side door to escape a three-man shooting team.
“Stay out. If the concentration’s that high in that direction, that’s probably where Velasquez is. Or plans to be.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He worked his way over to the side, knocking over the tables that had been set up for buyers and using them as cover. Up on the stage, one of the men had grabbed Jane and pulled her up in front of him. A second later, a bullet put a nice, neat hole in the front of his head. Thanks, Marco. On cue, Travis jumped onto the stage. Which was all Eric had time to see before a guard required his attention. He slipped around the side of the table protecting him and fired off a few rounds as he dashed toward the next table. The man popped up, looking for him, and Eric put a bullet through his chest.
One down. Now where the hell had Velasquez got to?
He spotted the three shooters who had converged on Mac. Unfortunately, they saw him, too, and bullets shredded the oaken table he’d hidden behind, sending splinters in every direction. For a moment, he thought a hunk of wood had embedded itself in his left biceps, but as the burn set in he realized it was a bullet.
“Now, Mac!” he shouted as he returned fire. The side door slammed open, and the men were caught in the crossfire. Two went down immediately. The third scuttled away and took shelter behind a stack of amplifiers brought in for the auction.
“Where’s Velasquez?”
“He didn’t come by me.” Mac shook his head. “I vote we get jerk-off to tell us.” He aimed at the stack of amps.
“Nothing back here,” Marco said into his earpiece.
“I want this asshole.”
Mac climbed on the bottom amp, then put his shoulder to the next one, sending the stack tumbling over. As their quarry struggled beneath the weight of the heavy cases, Eric stood over him with a pistol. Mac dragged the man from his hiding spot.
“Where’s your boss?”
The man shook his head.
“You have no idea how badly I want to kill you right now,” Eric said in Spanish, just in case the guy hadn’t understood him. “Give me one reason not to.”
“My soul is safe,” replied the man in English.
“What the fuck?” said Mac. “Listen, asshole, if I were you, I’d worry a bit more about my body. You want me to shoot you? Because I’d be happy to do that. Somewhere it hurts but won’t kill you. At least for a while.”
“My soul is safe.”
Mac ground his pistol into the guy’s shoulder.
“Hold up,” said Eric, watching the man’s impassive face.
“Trav, you got Jane?”
“Yeah, we’re at the rendezvous. Where are you?”
“Give us a few. Stay hidden. Put Jane on, will you?” He heard Travis pass over the earbud.
“Eric?”
It was so damned good to hear her voice, even shaky and distanced by the earbuds. But he didn’t have time to tell her. He’d make time for that later.
“Janie, I think we’re facing one of Bryan’s subjects. I need him to tell me where Velasquez is, but the usual tactics aren’t going to fly. What do I do to turn off the programming?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure you can.” Her voice cracked, and guilt bled through.
“Just give me anything. All we need to do is throw him off a little bit.”
“Tell me what he looks like. Any significant features? Any scars or tats?”
“Big fucking snake up the left arm.”
“Okay.” She breathed deeply, and he wished he could reach out and hold her. “That’s Arturo. He has a twelve-year-old sister, Maria Guadeloupe. You need to make him understand that Velasquez is not who he thinks. Give me a second to think about how.”
Jane gave him the words and Eric repeated them, though they made no sense to him. How Velasquez could not protect Arturo because he had become infected by the Black. How the Black devouring Velasquez led him to sell girls no different
from Maria Guadeloupe to men who would abuse them physically and sexually. How if Arturo stuck by Velasquez he, too, would be swallowed up by the Black and no one would be left to defend his family against the encroaching evil.
“How do you know these things?” Arturo asked.
“Tell him you’ve been fighting the Black for years. Tell him you need to know where Velasquez is so you can save him before he is swallowed up completely. He won’t feel as if he’s betraying Velasquez so much that way.”
As she predicted, the man noticeably relaxed when he heard they were battling the Black.
“We were to prevent any invasion,” he said. “Those were our orders. Protect the merchandise and do not let anyone see where Velasquez went. He has tunnels, but I have never been in them.”
Well, fuck. Of course he had tunnels. The cartels loved tunnels. Hundreds of varying sizes and complexity riddled the soil beneath the US-Mexico border.
“We should head for the rendezvous,” Marco said. “Cops will be here soon enough despite any protection they’ve paid. We’ve made too much noise. Plus, you need to get patched up.”
Eric looked down at his biceps, where the stream of blood had slowed to a sluggish ooze. “I’ll be fine.”
“But Jane won’t,” said Mac. “C’mon, man. You don’t want to leave her alone with Travis, now do you? God knows, I won’t leave Callie with him until I get a ring on her finger… and maybe not even then.”
“I hear you.” He heard the subtext, too. They could always come back for Velasquez—and they would.
“Janie, put Travis back on,” he said.
“What’s up?” Travis asked.
“Keep sharp. We’ve lost Velasquez. But we’re coming out. See you in five.”
“Ten-four.”
• • •
“THE GUYS ARE on their way, so we’ll be heading out soon,” Travis said. “But those virginal outfits are going to show like neon in the moonlight. Grab some dirt and muddy yourselves up a bit.”
Jane started to lean over and then realized that would bring the short nighty right up over her ass, so she squatted instead, grabbed a handful of dirt and dead leaves, and began to rub them over both the gown and her pale skin. Helene and Fritz followed suit. Then they helped each other, dirtying up the backs of the outfits. Jane was just rubbing filthy fingers over her face when a prickle at the back of her neck alerted her to Eric’s presence.
He swept her up into a bear hug, and she clung to him, burying her face in his neck. Tears sprouted behind her eyes, and she squeezed them away. His rough hand cradled the side of her face and tilted it up to look at him.
“You okay?” His blue eyes blazed, gas flames in the gathering darkness.
“I am now.” But she didn’t let go. His body, her bulwark against all evil in the world. She wanted so desperately to beg him never to go again, but instead she straightened her spine and stepped away from him.
“What do we do now?”
“We have a car hidden on the other side of this stand of trees. We’ll go get it, then drive to our hotel. Tomorrow, Nash has arranged an appointment for us at the US embassy in Mexico City.”
“But we are not Americans,” said Helene.
“Doesn’t make any difference. At the hotel, I’ll get all your information, send it to Nash, and he’ll fix it with the embassy folks. He’s good at that.”
Helene looked to Jane for reassurance, and Jane squeezed her hand. “He is. He’ll get you home. I promise.”
“And the others? The ones who went with the buyer from the auction.”
“He wasn’t a buyer,” said Eric. “Not really. His name is Miguel, and although he does live here in Mexico and participate in…shall we say shady practices in order to keep his hand in with the Hijos, he will protect those girls. He won’t let them get hurt.”
They trudged through the woods, always alert for followers, but the Hijos seemed to have given up on them—at least for the moment. They arrived at a ratty-looking van, which Marco and Eric checked comprehensively before allowing them inside. The drive was relatively short, and when the back doors opened, Jane almost cried because the motel and parking lot were so similar to the one where they’d been held before the auction. The only real difference she could see was the fact that the “Vacancy” on the roof was blinking out a red neon calling sign to anyone who might pass by.
Eric hustled her inside while Travis and Marco took charge of Helene and Fritz. Mac pulled the van up closer to the front of the hotel and went inside to ask—as a tourist might—where he could find a bite to eat.
“He’s checking out the area,” Eric explained. “He’s the one who took the room, and they think he’s alone. It’s best that way. Tomorrow, we drive to Mexico City. It’s a couple hours away.”
Travis was working at the door to the next room with a lock pick, and a few seconds later he had the door open. “Bingo. A veritable suite.”
“What if they rent that room to someone else?” asked Helene.
“This shithole? Sorry. This place isn’t going to rent out more rooms tonight. Trust me. And we’ll leave some extra cash for the maids. But we didn’t expect to be bringing more people along.” He dug through a duffel and pulled out two shirts. “Here. Take your brother in, shower off, and put these on. They’ll cover you better.” He looked at his fellow operatives. “Anyone got sweats? All I brought is shirts.”
Both Eric and Marco found sweatpants, but Fritz was so small he would just have to wear the T-shirt like a dress, with a pair of boxer-briefs like pants beneath it. Helene and Fritz disappeared into the bathroom.
“Marco and I will stick it out in here,” Travis said. “You take the doc and get her cleaned up in the other room.” He practically shoved Eric toward the door, and Jane felt a blush rising along the back of her neck.
Eric grabbed the sweats and T-shirt he’d dug out of his duffel and carried them in with him.
“Go ahead and shower. I bet you can’t wait to be clean again.”
That was true, but she wasn’t ready to let him out of her sight. “Can’t we share?” Oh, hell. That came out totally wrong. “Not—I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you didn’t mean.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “Trust me.”
“I do.” She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He held her close, stroking her hair.
“It’s going to be okay, Janie.”
She nodded against him. She was so tired. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t. Leave the door open. I just need to make a quick call; then I will be in. Okay?”
“Okay.”
In the bathroom, she stripped off her filthy, see-through nighty and stuffed it in the trash container under the sink. Then she turned the shower on hot, fully expecting the tepid, foul-smelling water from the other motel. But this came out nearly scalding and perfectly clear. Bliss. Absolute bliss. She closed her eyes, letting the hot water cascade over her. It smelled fresh and clean and fabulous, and her muscles slowly began to unknot.
How long she’d been standing there before Eric stepped into the bathroom, she had no idea.
“Right here,” he said, and when she peeked out she saw him settling himself, fully dressed, on the vanity counter, prepared to keep her company. But it wasn’t enough. He was hidden out there, behind the curtain. She slipped her arm through the curtain and beckoned him to join her.
Nothing happened.
She peered out again and met his serious, crystal blue gaze. He waited a long moment but finally nodded. She ducked back into the shower, and a second later he slipped inside. His big body crowded hers and suddenly the space shrank. He reached past her for the soap, still in its wrapper, with one hand while his other arm came around her waist and drew her back against him.
“How you doing?”
“Better.
” She leaned into him, letting his broad chest take her weight.
“Good.” He held her in place while he unwrapped the soap and smoothed the bar over the front of her body, then rubbed it between his hands before putting it back. “Let’s have a look.”
She turned around and he examined her critically. “You’re a mess.” He slicked his soapy hands over each arm, kneading her sore muscles as he did, then up her neck, into her hair. “Rinse.” He reached for the soap again and, dropping to his knees in the small space, repeated the process with her legs.
The muscles in her thighs went loose and loopy, and it wasn’t from relaxation. How did he manage to do this to her, even now? She steadied herself with her hands on his wide shoulders. He looked up at her and winked before sliding soapy fingers between her legs.
“Oh my God. Eric.”
He just smiled and continued his ministrations. She was shaking by the time he decided she was sufficiently clean and turned her around to start all over again on her back. With his hands on her shoulders, he pressed his thumbs to the base of her neck, releasing the tension collected there. He poured shampoo into his hand and massaged it into her head, easing through the tangles and carefully teasing out the knots that had formed despite her braid.
“I love this.”
“I’ll tell my hairdresser you said so.”
“I wasn’t talking about the color. Or at least, not just about the color. It’s the wildness, the texture. It’s so untamed. Like a hidden part of you no one sees behind all those lab coats.” He let the strands trail over his hand as he rinsed out the shampoo.
The words cut through her, cut down to a truth that hurt: she wasn’t what he thought she was. She wasn’t wild. She didn’t do casual sex, regardless of what she’d told him a hundred years ago back in his apartment. There was nothing in the least casual about her feelings for him.
But she couldn’t let him know that. To tell him that was to lose him immediately. He’d warned her as much. So it was time to turn the tables before she fell apart on him.
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