Carolyn stopped in front of him, then raised her gaze to Vincent. “If you would, my lord,” she said, her voice low and raspy, though whether it was from disuse or screaming, Lana didn’t know.
Vincent held her gaze for a moment, as if judging whether she could handle the human, but then he tipped his head slightly in acquiescence and took a step back. Lana felt a brief frisson of power, and then Serrana jumped as he was abruptly freed from his restraints. He immediately tried to roll off the bed and make a break for it—as foolish an idea as that was—but it didn’t matter. Carolyn’s hand shot out faster than Lana could follow, grabbing the man’s balls and crushing them in her fist, her fingers tightening until Lana could see the white bone of her knuckles. Serrana shrieked, the sound gaining pitch as Carolyn’s grip tightened, until with a final hard yank, she tore them off completely. Ignoring Serrana’s anguished screams, Carolyn held the bloody pieces of flesh in her hand, eyeing them curiously and long enough that Lana began to wonder if she’d finally lost it. But then, it was as if she was coming out of a trance. Her eyes blinked and her entire body shuddered hard, once. She shifted her gaze from the shredded testicles to the sobbing Serrana and back again, then bared all of her teeth in a vicious grimace, gripped Serrana by the hair, and shoved the bloody bits down his throat.
She turned to Vincent and, speaking in a soft, slow drawl that betrayed her Southern origins, said, “I would be obliged, my lord, if you would keep this vermin alive while I play with him.”
“Consider it done,” Vincent said, as if keeping a man alive to be tortured was something he did every day.
Carolyn smiled for the first time since they’d found her. And Serrana screamed.
Chapter Sixteen
LANA STARED UP at what was left of Albert Serrana and had to swallow hard to contain the nausea roiling her stomach. She couldn’t complain about the gruesome tableau since the whole Silence of the Lambs thing had been her idea, but she hadn’t considered the reality . . . or the stench. It would be even worse when Serrana’s people woke sometime after dawn to discover their boss’s body on display. Most of them would be missing a pint or two of their own blood, too. Vincent had permitted all of his people to dine at will on the unconscious guards, instructing them to leave the neck wounds bleeding. He wanted there to be no doubt as to who it was that had visited them in the night. Serrana’s grisly display was intended as a warning, after all. A warning not to fuck with vampires unless you were willing to pay the price.
But Lana and the others would be long gone by then. Which was one thing to be thankful for, she supposed, that she wouldn’t be around for sunrise. The flies would come then.
She shuddered and turned away, only to run smack into Vincent.
“So what do you think?” he asked, gazing up at the tall iron gates in front of the main door. They’d been propped open earlier, but now they’d been shut in order to better display their new decoration.
Lana forced herself to look once more. Ortega and Zárate had bound Serrana’s bloody and ravaged body to the gate, using some heavy baling wire they’d found in the truck. They’d taken pride in their work, binding his legs and arms outstretched, even wiring his head back so that his sightless, and eyeless, gaze seemed to be surveying the yard.
When she didn’t say anything, Vincent put his arms around her, hugging her back to his chest. “Carolyn needed this,” he whispered, both an apology and an explanation.
“I know. And the bastard deserved every bit of it.”
“So does Enrique,” he growled against her ear.
Lana twisted in his arms to look up at him. “But Enrique’s far more dangerous. Don’t—”
Vincent placed two fingers over her lips. “I’ve no desire to die young . . . Well, young-looking anyway,” he amended with a lopsided grin. “Come on, sunrise isn’t far off and we have to get Michael and the others back to the airport.”
“What about Carolyn?” she asked. The female vampire had all but collapsed in emotional and physical exhaustion after she’d finished dealing with her rapist. Lana had found some clothes in an adjacent bedroom for her. They were men’s sweats, but they were clean and easy to make fit on the smaller woman. Vincent had then spoken to Carolyn, his words soft and for her ears alone, before he’d slit his wrist and let her drink. She hadn’t drunk as much as Jerry or Salvio had, but apparently it was enough. Vincent had caressed her face once and then caught her as she fell into a deep sleep, holding her for a moment before transferring her to Michael who’d carried her to the SUV waiting in the yard. Ortega had retrieved the vehicle before he’d helped Zárate display Serrana.
Carolyn was there now, in the cargo compartment, still sleeping under the compulsion that Vincent had laid on her, one that he’d assured Lana would last until she woke in Hermosillo the next night.
“We have a couple of female vamps in Hermosillo,” Vincent told Lana. “Also a few human women who are mated to vampires. They’ll provide whatever care Carolyn needs. But she’s a vampire, Lana, and she’s mine now. She can draw on me for help and whatever strength she needs to recover. It won’t be easy, but it won’t be as painful as it would be for a human either.”
Lana nodded. He’d told her all of this before, but she still felt responsible somehow.
“You can see her when this is all over,” he reminded her gently.
“I know.”
“You ready to get out of here, then?”
She drew a deep breath. “Definitely.”
The others were already piling into the SUV, which was even more crowded now. Jerry was riding in the cargo area with Carolyn, first because he knew her somewhat, but mostly because he was the most slender of the vampires present, and Vincent still refused to permit Lana to ride anywhere but next to him.
Lana nearly dozed off as they raced for the airport. Vincent and Michael had agreed en route that the jet would depart as soon as everyone was aboard. The human pilots would be at the helm since most of the flight would take place after sunrise, but apparently once in Hermosillo, they’d “daylight”—that was what Vincent had called it—at the airport itself. Lana’s only thought was that she hoped the human guards were trustworthy, but then Vincent had pointed out that the same guards protected the Hermosillo compound every day. And that they were very well compensated. There was also some sort of vampire taboo against attacking your enemy in daylight, because no one wanted to start that particular snowball rolling.
The other reason for their hurry to reach the airport was that Lana and Vincent would not be returning to Hermosillo with the others. They were continuing the search for Xuan Ignacio, which meant they needed enough time to drive to a hotel and get checked in before daybreak. The sensible thing to do would have been to stay in Silao, which was the city nearest the airport, but naturally, Vincent had other plans. He’d insisted on choosing their hotel, reminding Lana rather snidely about the charming accommodations with the broken miniblinds that she’d arranged the last time he’d left it up to her.
That wasn’t altogether fair since there was a world of difference between finding accommodations in the middle of nowhere and in a real city. But she’d held her peace for two reasons. One, Vincent was a pain in the ass when he didn’t get his way; but, two, he was used to the best of everything, and after the last couple of nights in motels that probably rented rooms by the hour, Lana was more than ready for whatever luxury he could find.
Vincent had tapped away on his cell phone, grunted once or twice, then apparently made a reservation, though he wouldn’t share the details. Lana was too tired to care, however. She just wanted to see the others safely on their way and then find her own way into a hot shower as soon as possible.
Michael turned into the airport, speeding past the main terminal and the construction site, and zipping into the private hangar. They’d called ahead, so the hangar door was open, and the jet already prepped and waiting for them. Ortega and Zárate waited until Vincent exited the SUV, then gave him a respectful nod and disappeared up the stairs into the Gulfstream. Jerry popped the cargo hatch and was reaching inside to pick up Carolyn when Vincent stopped him.