But Mr. Blister ignored him, looking at Vargas instead. “Tell your friend to stand down. She will be dead before he pulls the trigger.”
Vargas knew it was true. “Do what he says, Ortiz. Put the gun down.”
“What are you, loco? He’s bluffing.”
“I’ve seen him work before. He’s not bluffing. Do what he says.”
Mr. Blister pressed the point of the blade into Beth’s flesh, drawing blood, and she cried out, the sound muffled against the duct tape.
This was enough to change Ortiz’s mind.
Nodding, he dropped the Glock to his feet, then kicked it aside and stepped away.
Vargas’s heart was thumping. “What now?” he asked.
Mr. Blister smiled again, backing toward the adjoining doorway. “She is my prize, Nick. My trophy. Just as she was before. I considered putting a pillow over her face for betraying me, but now that I see her like this, how beautiful she is, how could I do such a thing?”
The blood from his wrist was rolling down her chest now, snaking a trail between her breasts, working its way toward the dark patch between her legs.
“You’re not taking her with you,” Vargas said.
“Oh? And what will you do to stop me?”
With this, he dragged her backward through the adjoining doorway, moving quickly, Beth struggling against him as they disappeared into the darkness of Vargas’s room.
The moment he heard the door slam, Vargas dove for the Tomcat and scooped it up.
By the time he reached the hallway, he heard another door slam-a fire exit at the end of the corridor.
Vargas ran, Ortiz emerging from the room behind him.
“This puta madre gonna die tonight.”
“Get your car,” Vargas said. “Bring it around to the front. We can’t let them get away.”
Ortiz turned on his heels and sprinted as Vargas crashed through the fire exit, just in time to see Mr. Blister and Beth on the landing below, pushing through the first-floor doorway.
Vargas vaulted the steps, nearly losing his balance as he landed, using the walls to hold him upright as he threw open the door and stumbled into the street.
But Mr. Blister was already on the opposite side, shoving Beth onto the backseat of a Jaguar XJ. Shutting her inside, he moved around to the driver’s door and swung it open as Vargas raised the Tomcat.
But Vargas knew he was out of range and if he fired, the chances of hitting anything significant were slim to none.
Then he heard the squeal of tires and looked up to see Ortiz’s taxi tearing around the corner as — Mr. Blister reached inside and brought out a semi-automatic handgun. He fired at the oncoming cab, decimating a side mirror, puncturing the left front tire, and — Ortiz swerved, struggling to control the wheel, heading straight for Vargas as — Mr. Blister slid into the Jaguar, fired up the engine, and tore away, laying a long patch of rubber on the road.
Jumping clear of the oncoming cab, Vargas ran, chasing after the Jaguar with everything he had, bringing the Tomcat up again, ready to fire But it wasn’t enough.
And as Ortiz came to a screeching halt behind him, the Jaguar careened around a corner and disappeared from sight.
Gone.
With Beth tied up in the backseat.
Vargas stopped in the middle of the street, his chest heaving, his shoulder aching, his head throbbing…
And a cold, dark tide washed through him.
82
“ You must have many questions,” Rafael said.
They were driving along the coast road, several miles out of the city. Beth lay in back with her head against the armrest, staring out at a black ocean lit only by the moon.
She had no idea where he was taking her, but she had managed to quell her panic for the moment. She just wished he’d had the decency to cover her with a blanket. The last thing she should be worried about was being naked in front of him, but she felt embarrassed and humiliated.
And the thought of his blood drying on her body made her sick to her stomach.
“Do not worry, my love. I meant what I said back there. I will not harm you.” He paused. “And if you promise to be good, I will remove the tape from your mouth. You would like that, si?”
Beth nodded but wasn’t sure if he saw her.
“Come closer,” he said.
Beth hesitated, then readjusted her body, doing as she was told, and he reached back, ripping the tape away. She let out a long breath, then immediately backed away from him, returning her head to the armrest.
“What about my wrists?”
She was lying on top of them and her hands were starting to go numb.
“Not yet,” he said. “But soon.”
“Can’t you at least cover me?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be like this, so I am afraid I have no way of granting such a request. You can thank La Santisima for the heat.”
“Don’t you have a blanket in the trunk or something?”
“No,” he said. “But there is no reason to be ashamed of your body, Beth. As I’ve said many times, you are a beautiful woman.”
“You disgust me.”
“There is little I can do about that at the moment. But it will change. I promise.”
They drove in silence for a while, Beth quietly working on the rope around her wrists, trying desperately to loosen it. But he’d tied it too tight, and she wasn’t having much success.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Back home, of course. Where you belong.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been there before?”
“Ahhh, yes. We have many memories together.” He paused. Shrugged. “Well… I have many memories. What happened to you is unfortunate. But those who sin against La Santisima rarely go unpunished.”
“What do I have to do with La Santisima?”
“Much more than you know. You are a child of the Holy Mother.”
“Oh? And what about Jen? Is she a child of the Holy Mother, too?”
“We all are,” Rafael said.
“Where is she? What did you do to her?”
He paused again. “We’ll save that question for another time.”
He was silent for a moment, and Beth stared at his face in the rearview mirror. The entire right side was a mess of mottled, blistery flesh.
He caught her looking at him.
“You must be wondering how this happened. The last you remember of me is our encounter in Playa Azul.”
“How do you know that? How could you possibly know what I remember?”
He smiled. “There is someone in your life, Beth, who is not who he seems to be. He has been apprising us of your progress-although not quite as faithfully as I had hoped.”
“Who? Dr. Stanley?”
He laughed softly. “Your doctor knows nothing about us. No one at the hospital does.”
“Then who?”
Rafael said nothing, letting her turn the question in her mind.
