Immune (The Rho Agenda #2)(128)

“Mark! Look at me,” she repeated, struggling to her feet.

Ever so slowly, Mark’s head turned back toward her, the rage melting from his face as he stared at her.

Heather stepped forward. “We need him alive.”

Espe?osa’s hand twitched upward.

“I wouldn’t,” Mark said, his grip tightening until the drug lord’s eyes bulged. Don Espe?osa’s hand dropped back to his side.

Mark’s gaze returned to Espe?osa. Reaching the shoulder holster, Mark removed the Beretta and slipped it into his own belt.

“And why do we need this piece of trash?” he asked.

“To take us to Jennifer, for one.”

Heather noted his eyes moving across her naked torso, the awareness bringing a flush to her cheeks, though it was completely hidden beneath a coating of blood. Spotting a rack of clean towels, Heather grabbed two, draping one over her shoulders while she scrubbed at her face and hair with the other.

Mark set the drug lord against the wall, standing over him in a posture that indicated his good luck might not continue to hold.

Heather grabbed more towels, handing some to Mark who began scrubbing at his own sticky body. They certainly weren’t going to come clean, and their clothes were ruined, but it helped.

“Someone will have heard the screams. They’ll come,” said Mark.

Heather bent down to stare into Espe?osa’s dark eyes. “They heard, but they’re not coming. People scream a lot in this room. And you don’t like to have your rough play disturbed, do you, Se?or Espe?osa?”

The visions that filled her mind confirmed it.

Heather studied the drug lord. The rate at which his nanite-infested bloodstream repaired the damage to his body was amazing. Already, he was able to stretch his arms and legs, rolling his neck from side to side as if recovering from no more than a bad crick. The muscles in his chest had worked the broken ribs back into some semblance of their original alignment where they were rapidly being knit back together.

As incredible as that was, a glance to the mess in the room’s center showed that even nanites had their limitations. It was a fact that the look in Don Espe?osa’s eyes showed he was very much aware of.

“Okay, enough recovery time,” Mark said, yanking Espe?osa to his feet, the man’s grimace giving evidence that he had not yet completely recovered.

Heather stepped closer. “Now you’re going to take us directly to Jennifer. Believe me when I say I’ll know if you even consider doing something different than what we tell you.”

Espe?osa glanced at Mark, then nodded. “Then you’re going to kill me?”

“You heard what I told Mark. We need you alive. You just make sure you keep it that way.”

Don Espe?osa turned toward the inner door. “Walk with me. If we pass any servants, pay them no attention. They know better than to ask questions.”

The Spanish opulence of the wide room into which Espe?osa led them made Heather feel as if she had just stepped into a luxury resort, the rich tile floor, high ceiling, and huge windows giving it an openness that, under other circumstances, would have made her reluctant to leave. A tiled staircase led up to the second floor, and along this, Don Espe?osa led them. At the top of the stairs they entered a red-tiled hallway adorned with paintings of the conquistadors and standing suits of armor. Stopping just outside the third room on the left, Don Espe?osa rapped three times.

“Yes?” The familiar voice caused Heather’s breath to catch in her throat.

“I’ve brought you some guests,” Don Espe?osa said.

The sound of soft footsteps wafted out. Then the tall door opened inward.

“Guests?” Jennifer stood there frozen in shock, clad in a beautiful white peasant dress, looking pale and thin but incredibly beautiful.

Mark pushed Don Espe?osa into the wicker chair. “Don’t move!”

As Mark closed the door behind them, Jennifer rushed forward, throwing her arms around Heather’s neck, oblivious to the mess she was making of her beautiful white dress, great sobs shuddering through her body. Heather hugged back so tightly she felt they might become one. And as her own tears mixed with those of her lovely little friend, she felt Mark’s powerful arms circle them both.

“My God, Sis! I thought I’d lost you.” Mark’s voice choked off, his own tears dripping down his cheeks onto their heads.

For the longest time they just stood there, holding each other in an embrace they wished could last forever, experiencing a oneness Heather had feared they would never again share.

Jennifer was the first to release her hold, her eyes finally taking in the drying blood smears that caked Mark and Heather, along with Heather’s towel-draped torso.

“Jesus! What happened to you?”

With Mark keeping a watchful eye on Don Espe?osa, Heather rapidly filled Jennifer in on the day’s events, watching as shock turned to anger in her friend’s gentle face.

Jennifer stepped toward Don Espe?osa. “You did that to my family?”

The don shrugged. “You know what I am.”

Espe?osa stiffened as Jennifer’s eyes locked with his.

“Jen? What’re you doing?” The concern in Heather’s voice caused Mark to step closer.

“Jen?” Heather repeated, reaching out to touch her friend’s shoulder.

When Jennifer turned toward her, Heather released the breath she’d been holding. “It’s okay. Just making sure he wasn’t going to try anything like that again.”