His Princess (A Royal Romance)(132)

“Where do they come from?”

“Many places. Some are homeless, others are runaways. Others answer classified ads looking for models, or offering acting work. Some are here to settle gambling debts or because they needed something they could not afford, and turned to the wrong people. Men are lucky. They are only tortured and killed. Women have something that is always in demand and thus at the end of the day, their bodies are always collateral.”

“This is disgusting.”

“I agree completely.”

“You could do something about it.”

The three men with guns look back at me.

Santiago laughs softly under his mask. “I could. These three I could dispatch before they knew I even meant to kill them, but why should I do this thing? What would I gain by it? It is not by my hand that these unfortunates will be sold, not for me to determine if their masters are pleasant or cruel. Santiago de la Rosa is already the master of death. He has no cares for life. Let them rot. Everyone is rotting anyway.”

“You talk too much,” one of the thugs grunts.

“Begging your pardon,” Santiago says, his voice deadly calm. “What did you say?”

“You talk too much, and her, too.” He looks at me. “Shut the bitch up.”

Santiago sighs. I can barely hear it, muffled through his mask.

Then he whips his whole body in a spin, moving so fast he almost blurs. Something metal flashes in his hand and the guard’s throat opens in a red spray, fanning the wall with blood. I grab the girls and cover their eyes, but it’s too late. The big man falls to the floor in a boneless heap, lying at the foot of metal stairs leading up to a box office overlooking the warehouse floor.

Santiago doesn’t even have a speck of blood on him.

“You two would do well to remember who you are speaking to. Santiago de la Rosa is not a common tough to be ordered about by such as you. Count yourselves blessed if you are alive tomorrow and remember always that it is because Santiago de la Rosa permitted it. Now, up to the office.”

Karen makes a whimpering sound as she has to step over the dead man. I pick up Kelly and carry her, trying to hide it all from her eyes. She squeezes me tight, shaking as she tries not to sob.

The climb up is hard, carrying her. The stairs are narrow and close together and the whole thing is steep, reaching a good twenty feet up in the air.

Some kind of manufacturing used to be done here. This was a control room and foreman’s booth. Santiago gestures for me to sit down in one of three chairs. Karen sits and I lower Kelly to the chair next to mine and hold their hands.

Santiago sits down opposite us, holding his gun in his hands. He looks at the thugs.

“You two, go slop your pigs. Inform your masters I am ready and will be in touch when the quarry arrives. Now get out.”

They leave, pulling the door shut behind them.

“Forgive me the unpleasantness. Santiago de la Rosa is not slighted by some jumped-up thug. I have a reputation to uphold.” He sighs. “Now I have an important question I must ask you, before the festivities begin. Which of your daughters do you love the most?”





19





Quentin





Dale might have left me enough hardware to overthrow the Chilean government, but even if I arm up as a one-man army I can’t take it with me. I could drive straight to the fourth weapons cache he told me to find, or head for the rendezvous with the crazy bitch who tried to strangle me last week.

I know Santiago. He’s a man of his word, if I go to the rendezvous, I’ll be safe enough until they take me wherever it is they plan to torture and kill Rose. I’ll never get the details out of that Lily maniac; last week you could have tortured me to death before I’d give up Santiago. It’s just not done.

Things are different now. I’m going to kill him myself.

The question is, how? He’s got me. I’ll be going to an unknown location with no weapons while my enemy holds three valuable hostages. He’s a man of his word, alright. He won’t hurt me or them until he has us all together, so he can watch us unwind one strand at a time. That’s what he does. He feeds on misery.

I let them go and the monster got them. I choke the wheel harder. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I never should have talked to Rose. Whatever good I deluded myself into thinking I brought into their lives, it wasn’t worth this. God. They’ll die hating me.

Quentin, you selfish f*ck.

Dale said he left me a couple of presents. They had better be something good. I have time. The fun won’t start without me. If I just try to bowl myself right down the middle of the problem I’ll get the girls killed. I can’t let that happen.

I swing off the highway and drive toward Dale’s weapons cache. This had better be worth my time.

Using a key I took from his office, which must have been blown to smithereens by now, I open the storage locker door and roll it up. It hasn’t been opened for a while; leaves and spiderwebs cling to the bottom.

This locker is more of a garage, big enough to house a car. Everything is covered with dusty drop cloths that throw up curtains of grime when I yank them off. It’s all standard stuff, crates of weapons. No help. I can pack it all in the Impala’s trunk and never get it anywhere near Santiago.

Damn it, Dale, tell me you had something.