The Protected

She looked at Gus. He’s got one of the agents in there, Gus. I know her.

Gus didn’t respond.

At all.

The sound of Nalini’s next scream was almost enough to freeze the blood in Vaughnne’s veins.

Desperate and so full of pain.

Her muscles bunched, tensed. Gus must have sensed what she wanted to do, because his hand came up and gripped her arm, his fingers squeezing with deliberate strength.

She let him guide her over to the building, all but hugging it as she listened to Nalini inside. Begging now . . . She was begging, whimpering, and crying.

Where the hell is everybody? You acted like he’d have a small army here, Vaughnne said, searching the night-dark terrain, but she saw nothing. The buildings were there, but there were no people. Save for those they could hear behind them.

The screaming had stopped, dying away into low, soft sobs.

“Do I start cutting off fingers now, senor? Cutting up her pretty face didn’t do much,” somebody said.

Reyes? Vaughnne wondered. She had to see him. If she saw him, she could get a link in on his mind. That was all it would take.

“Nala, you are so foolishly stubborn. Talk to me, and this can end. Here, we can do something easy; it will not hurt the boy. Just tell me this. How did you manage to send my men away?”

Next to her, Vaughnne felt Gus tense. She was terrified now. Nalini had monsters in there with her, but if Gus thought she’d endanger that boy . . . She won’t say anything, Gus. She won’t.

His long, lean body vibrated next to hers and she could feel him readying himself.

I have to see inside, damn it. I can’t work if I can’t see in there. Her ability was limited that way; the first time she used it, she had to see somebody. And once she saw whoever was torturing Nalini, the bastard was going to hurt.

Slowly, Gus’s fingers uncurled from her arm and she crept forward. Mentally, she reached out to the other woman. Man, Nalini, you landed yourself in a shitload of trouble. How did you manage that?

She didn’t know if Nalini recognized her, and she wouldn’t get much of a response, either. Nalini’s gifts didn’t work like that.

But she couldn’t let the woman think she was in there, alone and left to die, either.

A harsh, low groan left the woman, still hidden by the walls that separated them. The window was a few feet ahead and Vaughnne had to inch forward every damn millimeter, watching where she placed her feet, watching everything around her. Her skin crawled.

Nalini, where is everybody?

“You . . . moron,” Nalini said. There was so much pain crowding her voice it hurt to even hear it. “Haven’t you . . . figured out what I do? I made you send them away. They wouldn’t . . . listen to me.” She broke off for a minute, panting.

There was a whisper of sound and then the man’s voice. “Hold off, Jorge. I want to hear this. This . . . this could be useful.”

Nalini laughed. “Oh, I’m not going to be useful . . . to you. At all. Trust me. Anybody who touches me does it . . . at his own risk. You had your hands . . . all over . . . me. I made you . . . send . . . them all away. They are too scared not to listen. Except Jorge, apparently. He came running . . . back, the jackass. Like a little . . . puppy. I bet . . . if you asked him to suck you off, he’d . . . do it.”

“Puta.”

Ah. That must be Jorge . . . Vaughnne eyed the distance to the window. A foot. She was going to be in range soon. Very soon.

Did you hear?

She glanced back over her shoulder, saw the slow dip of Gus’s head. But something told her that he didn’t buy anything out of Nalini’s mouth; he didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust anybody but he’d never trust something coming from Nalini now. She was being tortured and Reyes thought she knew something about Alex. To Gus, that made her suspect.

* * *

NALINI was almost numb as Ignacio waved Jorge away. “Now, now . . . I’d promised we wouldn’t hurt her if she answered the question. Although, Nala, I do not care for your foul mouth.”

“Yeah?” She sneered at him. “Too fucking bad.”

“This really is your last chance. The injury to your face can be . . . well, it may or may not heal well. If I start cutting off fingers, Nala, you’ll never be able to use that beauty of yours to blind a man again.”

She smiled, the cut on her lower lip splitting wide. He planned on killing her—did he really think she was that naive? “Did I blind you, Iggy?”

Damn it, Nalini. Shut up. The voice . . . Nalini frowned as it came to her mind again and she almost believed it wasn’t wishful thinking. Maybe . . .

Something danced just out of the corner of her eye. A flit of movement, a dark shadow lost to darker ones outside the window.

“Iggy . . .” She sucked in a breath. “Maybe I can help. A little.”

A pleased smile curved his face.

I’ve got a line in now, Nalini. Get ready.

She closed her eyes and wondered just how in hell she was supposed to get ready? “Yeah. Whatever . . .”

In the next second, Ignacio jerked upright like a marionette yanked on his strings.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he clamped his hands over his ears. A rapid-fire spate of Spanish exploded from him, and her pain-flooded mind took a few seconds to translate.

What is that terrible noise? Shut it up, Jorge!

She thought that was what he said.

Jorge answered back, shaking his head. “No, no oigo nada.”

“You . . .” Ignacio whispered, his eyes wide and glazed while he continued to cover his ears. “You are . . .”

He went white.

Jorge fisted his hand in her dreads. “Whatever you are doing, puta, stop it, now.” He pressed the edge of his knife against her neck.

And then, a muffled pop sounded.

It was followed by a thud.

Nalini was only vaguely aware of the fact that Jorge’s hand had fallen from her neck. All she could see was the man—long, lean, and lethal—coming through the window with death in his eyes.

Death . . . in his eyes, in his hands. On his soul.

You . . . she thought, dazed.

* * *

THE woman was drenched with her own blood. Restrained for now, cable ties holding her in place. He didn’t spare her more than a glance because she didn’t matter.

All that mattered was Ignacio Reyes, and the man was all but clawing at his ears. An attempt to silence Vaughnne’s voice, Gus supposed.

“Vaughnne.”

“I’m done,” she said, edging around him.

He stared at Reyes, waiting until the man lowered his hands, until he looked around. His gaze sought out Jorge. When he saw the corpse on the floor behind the other agent, there was only a flicker of his lashes to betray his emotions. No sign of fear showed on his face, in his eyes.

Nothing.

“So.” Reyes kept his body averted.

The man was a fool, thinking that would hide what he was doing.