The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(130)

“I’m not going to let you get yourself killed.”

But at least she was moving as she muttered this, getting her things out from the back of her car and walking them over to the popped trunk of the Mercedes. And as she put the suitcase and the duffel in, she was speaking in a barrage of Spanish—but he didn’t care if she was cursing every bone in his body as long as she gotinthefuckingsedan.

When they were finally back in the back, so to speak, she didn’t turn to him. She pulled herself forward using one of the headrests in front.

“He’s going to die,” she announced to Vishous. “She’s going to kill him.”

“Your grandmother?” the Brother said. “I’ve heard about her—and yeah, I can feel that. Even if she’s in a hospital bed—”

“This is a setup—”

“Marisol,” Assail interrupted, “there is no way, even if this is Benloise’s sister, that she will know it is me. No way. This is a business interaction through proper channels—and besides, even if it is his sister, she will not be of his nature. She’s a female, after all—”

The glare that swung around to him was enough to make him consider cupping his sex in protection.

“Do I look weak to you.” It was not a question. “Do I look like I can’t handle my shit to you.”

Okaaaay, Assail thought. He was probably going to have to recast his rather old-school opinion of the “weaker” sex, wasn’t he. His Marisol was certainly not, and never had been, a fainting flower to be insulated from the most minute of inconveniences.

And P.S., he was getting seriously aroused right now, even though that wasn’t fair to her.

“Well?” she demanded.

“No, you are not weak.” As his voice deepened, he cleared his throat. “You are the most magnificent, powerful force I have ever seen. You can bring me to my knees as no one ever could or ever will again.”

She blinked. Then looked away.

In the awkward silence, he studied her profile and wished there was another way for them. Then he dragged himself out of that black hole of disappointment.

“And as I was saying, even if it is his sister, I doubt she will know what transpired. Benloise’s remains are well disposed of, and Eduardo’s? They were consumed by coyotes, given where we left him. So all is well.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said tightly.

He wanted to tell her that was kind of her, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he switched to the Old Language so she would not understand what he was saying as he spoke to Vishous.

“Pray, if I fall and cannot be revived in this, I ask that you see her safely unto her grandmother and then back out into her world. Strike her memories with care and send her off with a pleasant recollection of all this, something that shall not cause her to suffer any pain. I request this with the utmost respect unto you, and as her bonded male.”

Behind the wheel, the Brother looked up into the rearview mirror. With a single nod, he replied, “It shall be done.”

Appeased, Assail eased back into the seat. The windows were tinted so darkly, he could barely see out, although the streetlamps were light enough to glow as if through fog.

At least he knew she would be okay—

“Vitoria looks like Ricardo,” Marisol said tightly. “You’ll see it in the eyes and the shape of the face. I never met her in person, but there were pictures of her at his house—the two of them were very close. Do us all a favor, if it’s her, just get out of there. Don’t assume she won’t recognize you. You just…you never know.”

Assail turned and stared at the woman—and told himself not to feel any hope given that Marisol seemed so worried about him. “All right. I will.”





FIFTY-NINE


Vitoria went to her brother’s warehouse in as circuitous a route as she could. She was generally no fan of inefficiency, but she had to make sure that none of Detective de la Cruz’s ilk were following her, and it took some time to reassure herself that they were not. When she finally pulled Ricardo’s Rolls-Royce into the facility’s vacant parking lot, however, she was satisfied she was on her own.

That was the only thing she was satisfied by, though—and not just because that detective was proving to be a Latino version of Columbo.

Looking at the passenger seat beside her, she frowned at Eduardo’s journal. Of all the numbers she had called, the man she was meeting was the only one to respond. This was worrisome. She had expected there to be a great hunger for what her brothers had put out on the streets, but she feared that, in the intervening year, the ecosystem had rerouted itself, found other suppliers, and moved on.

Regaining lost business was so much harder than simply stepping into the shoes of a functioning concern.

But she was ready to fight to get back to where things had been.

As she got out of the Ghost, she approved of this location. She had discovered its existence in paperwork on Eduardo’s desk, and she could see why it would be a good place to exchange goods for cash. The building’s floor plan took a sharp corner, one whole wing extending out from a base, and that formation, coupled with an adjacent structure that appeared to be garage space or storage units that angled in, meant that a private courtyard was formed.

And clearly, that had been cultivated. The privacy, at any rate: The security lighting was all trained elsewhere, a dark pit of anonymity enveloping the center area.