by Ann Aguirre
I didn’t think that was likely, but it was also better I didn’t draw attention to myself. As the paramedics helped Jesse from the couch onto the gurney, the lieutenant walking alongside, Jesse cast a desperate look over his shoulder. I smiled at him, telling him wordlessly that it was okay. Since he belonged to a brotherhood, this development didn’t surprise me.
A cop came over to take my statement. I stuck with Jesse’s story, since it made sense. No, I hadn’t seen anything. I was hiding behind the couch the whole time—and how that rankled. Demons I could deal with, but I could do nothing about men with guns. I so needed to learn how to use a weapon.
“We’re all set here,” the cop said at last. “If we need anything else, we’ll call you.”
I’d given him my cell number, since I didn’t have a physical address. “Will it be okay if I take Jesse’s Forester to see how he’s doing? I don’t have my car here.” Or anywhere—I didn’t own one. “What hospital did they take him to?”
“Let me find out.” He got on the phone and a minute later he said, “Doctors Hospital. Need the address?”
“Please.”
Silently, I chafed with the need to find out what had happened at Chuch’s place as well, but I scrawled the address with a murmur of thanks. I snagged Jesse’s keys from the hook beside the door. A crime-scene crew was setting up their gear as I left. Blood spattered the place and bullet holes dotted the wall, testifying to the fact that the bad guys had come in with guns blazing.
If not for Butch, they might’ve caught us on the couch, as we’d been moments before. Easy pickings. Jesse had time to get his weapon and take a strategic position, thanks to the dog’s early warning. I rubbed his head and he nuzzled my hand. Butch seemed just as upset about Jesse and maybe even worried about Chuch, Eva, and Shannon. There was no telling how much he knew or understood. Sometimes I had the feeling it might surprise me.
With lead in my stomach, I punched the address into the GPS. Though I wasn’t supposed to drive and dial, I called Chuch’s cell. No answer—it went straight to voice mail. I fought down the fear. If anything happened to them, it’d be my fault. Escobar had claimed he would protect me, but I didn’t see much evidence of it, apart from the amulet, which offered no aid against mundane attack.
And then I remembered what he’d said: It will drive Montoya mad when his sorcerer fails . . . and fails and fails. He’ll contact you, if I know him at all. I really was bait. Not once or when I removed the amulet. Escobar had fully expected this, so in a way, he was still testing me. If I survived long enough to drive Montoya over the edge, he’d use me—if not, no big loss. I shouldn’t be surprised; Escobar was the coldest son of a bitch I’d ever met.
It didn’t take long to reach the hospital, a blocky gold building designed in modern style. I parked, ran through the parking lot and into the lobby. At the information desk, I asked, “Do you know where they took Jesse Saldana?”
“Are you family?”
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t give you any information.”
I set my jaw. “I was with him when he was shot. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll create the granddaddy of all scenes. Want to find out how loud I scream?”
“Girlfriend, then. That’s close enough.” Her worried smile said she thought I might start yelling anyway. “Ah, yes. He’s being prepped for surgery.”
That couldn’t be as ominous as it sounded. I went up to the waiting room nonetheless and tried Chuch again. He picked up this time.
“Is everyone okay?”
“They didn’t stay.” He sounded weird, subdued. “Just fired a few warning shots. I got the fire department out here now.”
Fire department—
“Oh, no,” I breathed.
“I gotta go. Eva’s crying.” The stark simplicity of his grief hit me like a fist.
They’d burned his house down. A Molotov cocktail would do the job. I could see the scene all too clearly, and it filled me with white-hot rage: everything they’d achieved in their lives, gone, and all the work on the nursery, destroyed.
I could handle being hunted. In one form or another, I was used to it, but when they targeted women and unborn babies, they went too far. I was staring at my hands, trying to figure out my next move, when someone cleared his throat.
Glancing up, I saw Jesse’s lieutenant standing before me. “No organ damage but they have to go in, remove the bullet, and do a little repair work.” He sat down beside me. “I’m his boss, Lieutenant Glencannon. Try not to worry about him.”
I kept my hands laced in my lap, hiding the scars and brands. People always viewed my palms as evidence that there was something wrong with me. And there was, just not in the way they thought.
“Thanks.” I didn’t know what he wanted, but when cops paid attention to me, apart from Jesse, it seldom ended well.
“So you’re the girlfriend?” he asked in a musing tone.
“I guess.” The relationship was too new for me to feel comfortable discussing it with his superior. God, we’d barely agreed to try when Jesse wound up taking a bullet for me. Shit, if I’d ever doubted it, I was poison. Maybe I should aim myself at Kel, because he could survive me.
“You haven’t visited him at the station . . . and he doesn’t have any pictures of you in his office.”
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 retrospe
ct, 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.
