Immune (The Rho Agenda #2)(108)

As he stepped off the platform toward the nearest of the marine checkpoints, he stumbled and would have fallen face-first if he had not managed to grab the concertina razor wire with his left hand.

“Shit!”

One of his marines stepped forward, but McFadden waved him back to his post. Right now it was far more important that every marine kept a laser focus on the task at hand rather than act as nursemaid to a commanding officer.

As orderly as they were at the moment, the hunger of the crowd for the juice in the IV bags threatened to explode into a riot at the slightest opportunity. As Captain McFadden stared down at the wound in his hand, watching the skin knit itself back together before his eyes, he fully understood the depths of that hunger.

No doubt about it. The job of killing his fellow man had just gotten one hell of a lot harder.





115


Jorge Esteban Espe?osa’s arrival at his compound brought about a change as radical as Jennifer’s sudden departure from the Bellagio. Suddenly, she was moved from her tiny cell to a huge bedroom on the upper level of the hacienda, and although the door was still locked and guarded, the bedroom and the attached bathroom were even more elegantly furnished than her Bellagio suite.

A maid brought her an entire wardrobe of beautiful dresses, some of which hinted at a long-lost Spanish court, others soft and elegant peasant dresses. The maid spread an assortment of matching shoes and accoutrements alongside them on the bed, then looked Jennifer up and down with eyes that showed no hint of sympathy. It appeared that the Goth look would no longer be an option.

In heavily accented but clearly distinguishable English, the dark, matronly woman spoke.

“Se?orita, my name is Gloria. I am here to make you presentable for your dinner with Don Espe?osa. Please, follow me.”

Unable to get her bearings quickly enough to form a question, Jennifer followed the maid into the bathroom where steam wafted gently upward from the huge, freestanding bathtub.

“Undress, throw your dirty things in the waste bin, and then bathe yourself, thoroughly. Call me when you are done and I will assist you with your clothes and hair.” A frown spread across Gloria’s face as she studied Jennifer’s short black hair. “I will be in the next room.”

For several seconds after Gloria’s departure, Jennifer stared after her. Then a glance at the tub set her into motion. There was no telling how long she would be given, but if this was her last night of comfort in her short life, Jennifer was determined to indulge in the bath for as long as possible. It was remarkable how little emotion remained within her as she tossed her filthy clothes into the trash bin. She felt as if she had been wrung out and hung over a line to dry in the wind.

That changed the moment her small right foot slid into the water. A wave of ecstasy sent a shudder through her body as her naked torso slipped slowly into water hot enough to pink her skin. Jennifer continued to slide down into the tub until her entire head sank beneath the surface, the ripples distorting her view of the beamed ceiling twelve feet overhead.

She didn’t know what the sick old drug lord might have in mind for her, but at least for the moment, she could block out those thoughts and the discomfort and fear that had gripped her so tightly these last few days. In her present world there was only room enough for her and this wonderful tub of liquid bliss.

Perhaps a half hour passed before a knock on the door and Gloria’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Se?orita? Are you ready, or do you need me to help with that too?”

“Just a minute.”

The implied threat that the maid would come help her finish her bath brought forth an annoyance that bubbled into her voice. Something about her sudden anger felt really good. How long had it been since she had shown the least bit of spirit? Christ. One second she had been at the Bellagio, so full of herself and her mental superiority, and in the next she had turned into a sniveling, helpless child.

If she was going to survive, she had to get her shit together and use some of the gifts she had been granted. Most of all she had to use her head.

Jennifer stepped out of the tub and toweled herself dry. Without bothering to wrap herself in the towel, she took a deep breath and stepped out into the bedroom.

“Well, it took you long enough!”

The maid’s eyes swept her body before locking with Jennifer’s. As they did, Jennifer centered, letting her mind attune to what she saw behind those dark orbs.

Despite the number of times she had experienced the sensation, the experience of feeling another person’s mind gave her a rush. It wasn’t that she could hear the other person’s thoughts. It was more like a jazzed-up version of what some twins reportedly experienced, a sharing of feelings, an exchange of desires, longings, fears. Only this exchange was entirely under Jennifer’s control.

Like everyone Jennifer had tried this on, the feelings in Gloria’s head were a complicated mixture at the conscious and subconscious level. The woman was certainly nobody that Jennifer would ever want to establish a friendship with, a burned-out shell filled with frustrations, fears, and petty jealousies that crowded out any of the finer emotions that might have once been there.

Fine. If she couldn’t accentuate the positive, there was always the other side of the coin. Jennifer focused, selecting the maid’s fear of authority, twisting and amplifying it as she held the woman’s gaze.

The change in Gloria’s expression was instantaneous.