“When do they come back?”
Reyes shrugged. “Maybe some very late tonight, many others tomorrow. They do not tell me such details.”
“All right. What else can you tell me?”
Reyes gave her a weary look, and Lana thought she’d reached the end of her cooperation, but then she said, “During siesta, there is only one guard on the shack and very few in the yard.”
“Where is this shack?”
“In the courtyard. It is easy to see. There is nothing but dirt—no gardens, no trees.”
Lana shook her head, then spun on her heel and headed for the front door.
“Go home, gringa. You cannot save him. He is the devil’s creature.”
Lana paused with her fingers gripping the doorknob, her jaw clenched. She told herself it wouldn’t do any good to go off on Reyes, that her energy was better spent planning Vincent’s rescue. But then, from behind her, she heard the glug of the water bottle as Reyes took a drink, heard the woman exhale deeply, the sound of a person relaxing after a hard day’s work. Forcing the words out around the anger squeezing her throat, Lana turned back toward the woman. “We’ll be back. And if I were you, I wouldn’t be here. He’ll kill you. And I won’t stop him.”
Chapter Nine
LANA’S FIRST STOP was the motel where she and Vincent had checked in before going to the cantina. There was no telling where this other vampire—the one Reyes claimed was enslaved by the local narco boss—had seen and recognized Vincent. It might have been at the gas station when they’d first pulled into town, or at the motel, or, hell, just driving by. But with no way to know for sure, she didn’t want to leave their things at the motel. Especially since she didn’t know what the day’s rescue would bring. If Vincent was weak or injured, he might need a safe place to hole up for a few hours. It would have been better if she could track and find Vincent tonight, when he, theoretically at least, could help in his own rescue. Theoretically because he hadn’t been looking too healthy when they dragged him out of the cantina. And if Fidelia Reyes had been telling the truth, they sure as hell wouldn’t be giving him any blood to help him heal, either. Lana couldn’t help wondering if the narcos knew just whom they had on their hands. Yeah, the informer vamp had told his bosses that Vincent was powerful, but did they know he was probably equal in power to Enrique himself?
Lana sighed, thinking all that power might not do him any good if they kept him starved for blood, or burning in the sunshine. She rubbed her chest, trying to ease an actual ache in her heart at the thought of Vincent being tortured like that.
When she arrived at the motel, she parked in the lot of the bodega next door, pulling around back where there was little traffic at this hour. Vincent’s SUV was too noticeable, although she’d probably be glad of all that bulletproofing when she broke him out of his prison. Reyes had said the siesta slowdown later today would be her best chance, but obviously, Lana wasn’t going to take that at face value. The sky was just beginning to lighten, but she still had an hour before daylight. She’d drive out there as soon as she picked up their things, park some distance away, then trek in and scope the place out herself before deciding on a plan.
Walking down the alley, she approached the motel from the back, sidling along the building’s outside wall until she could see the motel parking lot and the street in front of it. Standing in the morning shadows, she stood perfectly still for a few minutes, her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Years of hunting bad guys who didn’t want to be found had made her pretty damn good at spotting when things or people seemed out of place. But she didn’t see anything like that. Maybe the vampire snitch hadn’t told them about her. Or maybe he hadn’t realized Vincent was traveling with anyone.
Once in their room, she grabbed the few things they’d unpacked and shoved them back into the duffels. She left the lights on, hoping that if anyone came looking for her, they might at least be slowed down by the possibility that she was still there. Then, slinging both bags over her shoulders, she headed out the way she’d come, being sure to hang the No Molestar tag on the door first.
Back at the SUV, she threw both duffels into the back and, following Reyes’s directions, drove south out of town. It wasn’t long before she saw the rock formation where she was supposed to turn, saw the bright lights still burning against the sunrise and the high wall of the compound in the distance. She didn’t turn, but continued driving until she could no longer see the compound, figuring if she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her either. Then, taking advantage of the SUV’s reinforced undercarriage and four-wheel drive, she turned off the road completely and headed into the desert abutting the compound. She drove until she found a cluster of huge rocks huddled beneath a short rise, then did a 180o turn and backed into the cover of the rocks so that she was hidden from the road, but could still make a quick getaway when she and Vincent returned.
Switching off the engine, she listened to the ping of metal as it cooled, and leaned back, realizing abruptly that the seat was too far back. She was tall, but the seat was adjusted for Vincent’s height and in all the rush and stress of the last hour, she hadn’t bothered to change the settings. Tears pricked her eyes for the first time since they’d taken Vincent. She knew it was partly exhaustion, but she couldn’t turn off her brain, couldn’t stop seeing Reyes slice Vincent’s throat, the blood pouring in a red flood over his chest as his eyes met hers across the room. She sucked in a deep breath and fought the tears back. That was the one thing that kept her going, the look in Vincent’s eyes when they met hers, the certainty that she would remain free, that she’d find him and break him out.
Turning off the interior lights, she climbed out from behind the wheel and hunkered down on the side of the SUV away from the road. It was much colder outside, the morning sun still too weak to provide warmth, but she needed to use her iPad and didn’t want random flashes to give her away. Fortunately, there was cell coverage out here in the middle of the desert, probably thanks to the very bad guys whose compound she was plotting to invade.
She opened her iPad and pulled up Google maps, quickly locating the town, then expanding outward until she spotted the narcos’ compound. She smiled, thinking that while the drug lords were powerful, they weren’t more powerful than Google. Nor did they have the kind of pull that could get their compound blurred out of the map image. She had a very nice bird’s eye view of the forecourt, which was nothing but dirt, just like that bitch Reyes had said.
The compound itself consisted of several buildings, including more than a few which were detached from the main hacienda, but it was obvious which one was the shack where Reyes had assumed they’d keep Vincent. Lana studied the layout and had a single thought. Not good. She’d have to go over the wall, cross a good thirty feet of wide open ground, disable the guard—only one, if Reyes could be trusted, which she’d already proved she couldn’t be—break into the shack, and somehow get a weakened Vincent out of there.
And there her plans stuttered to a halt. She couldn’t break him out of there in daylight! Fuck. Vincent would be dead weight and he was far too heavy for her to carry over a damn wall. But even if she could somehow manage to carry him, the sunlight would kill him.
Damn, damn, damn.
She closed her eyes and tried to think, but she was just so fucking tired. Her brain wasn’t working the way it usually did. So she tried another tack, breaking the operation down to its essential parts. First, she needed to get in there. She frowned down at the iPad and tried to zoom in on the shack itself, wanting details. What was the building made of? Was there a lock on the door? And, if so, could she deal with it? But the resolution wasn’t good enough and the angle wasn’t right anyway. She could see something that looked like the shutters Reyes had talked about, though, which only confirmed what she already knew, that she had the right building.
And then she thought about the other guy, the vampire who’d snitched to his cartel boss about Vincent. Was he in there with Vincent? She sure hoped not. But if he was . . . she’d simply have to stake him. After all, he’d betrayed Vincent. She didn’t owe him anything.
But they’ve tortured him, a little voice reminded her. They’ve kept him a slave. Was he responsible for his actions under those conditions? Was he even capable of defying his masters?
She dropped the iPad on top of the case at her side, then pulled her knees up to her chest, and buried her face in her arms. This was all too much. She wasn’t some kind of special ops super hero—she was a bounty hunter. Yeah, sure, she was a fair shot, and she was a wiz with a knife. But she didn’t know much about planning a tactical assault. She couldn’t shoot her way out of a crowd without getting a scratch, or leap over even a small building in a single bound.
She rested her head back against the warm metal of the SUV and sighed. No, she was no superhero, but somehow, she would figure out a way to rescue Vincent. Because she knew if the tables were turned, he’d do the same for her.
“Okay,” she said out loud, then continued the conversation in her head, remembering that she was in hiding. First, she tallied up the things she had going for her.
One, they wouldn’t expect her, because they didn’t know about her. She had to believe that. If they’d known, they would have taken her in the club or tracked her down afterward.
Two, she had this cool SUV for an escape vehicle, all bulletproof and slick, and fully gassed up to boot.