Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel (8 page)

Blanco’s features hardened. “Don’t speak to me that way. And to answer your question, the pilot reported engine trouble. It should be taken care of in a few hours.”

“I don’t have a few hours. I want to slit the woman’s throat, Luis.”

“And how will you do that?” Blanco said coldly. “You haven’t even uncovered her true identity yet.”

“No, but now that we know Morgan was involved, it shouldn’t be hard to find her.” He paused. “And I think you should consider my suggestion—postpone your main event, Luis. If Erica was working for the government—”

“Then agents would have attempted a raid days ago,” Blanco said with a careless wave of his hand. “She must have been after me, and not the merchandise.”

Devlin was about to argue, but then thought better of
it. Let Blanco have his misguided sense of invincibility. Devlin would recapture the woman before she could do any damage anyway.

“I shall take my leave, then,” Devlin said, stalking toward the French doors leading into the house.

Blanco’s voice stopped him. “And may I ask what you plan on doing to the woman when you find her?”

He turned and gave a humorless smile. “What I do best, of course.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Noelle demanded, her beautiful face glittering with anger and disapproval.

Abby stood her ground. The fact that she was several inches taller than Noelle should’ve helped her cause, but Noelle had always seemed much larger than her five feet three inches. Especially when she was furious.

“I know. I fucked up.” Abby sighed. “I had the chance to kill him but I chose not to, okay?”

“I don’t care that you didn’t kill him—I care that you nearly got
yourself
killed!” Noelle’s blue eyes flashed, but the hand she laid on Abby’s arm was oddly gentle.

When Noelle had stormed onto the terrace a few minutes ago, she’d looked ready to throttle someone. She’d coldly dismissed Kane, banishing him to the kitchen, yet Abby could feel his eyes watching them. Noelle had spun around, moved closer as if she wanted to embrace Abby, then stepped back and started tearing into her. Abby didn’t blame her. The people who’d hired them had spent a great deal of money to ensure that Blanco would meet his demise, and she knew Noelle would need
to do some serious ass-kissing to smooth out the situation.

That Noelle claimed not to care that Abby had failed in her mission came as a shock. They’d known each other for more than seven years, and this was the first time Noelle had come close to showing genuine concern for Abby’s well-being. Abby knew she cared, but Noelle didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve. Never had.

“I was fine,” Abby said defensively, leaning one elbow on the railing that ran around the stone terrace. “Blanco didn’t want me dead.”

“You don’t look fine,” Noelle snapped. “Your face is every color of the rainbow, and I can see you’re having trouble breathing—don’t bother denying it.”

“Okay, I’m a little beat-up, but I’m alive, and I would’ve stayed alive.”

Noelle leaned her lithe frame against the rail, her blond hair falling down her shoulders. “Why?” she asked sharply.

“Why what?”

“You blew your cover. I want to know why.”

Abby let out a breath, wincing. Noelle was right—it hurt to breathe. Damn rib injuries. A bullet or knife wound she could handle, but taking a hit to the ribs was always a bitch. “About two weeks ago, Inez Alvaro, Blanco’s housekeeper, stormed into the dining room screaming like a banshee, accusing Blanco of kidnapping her daughter.”

Noelle frowned. “All right.”

“Inez’s husband, Rubio, is one of Blanco’s drug runners. They live in a village a few miles from the compound. I went there a few times with one of the servants.” Abby swallowed. “I met Lucia. She’s a beautiful girl,
thirteen years old and unbelievably smart. She wanted to learn English, so I offered to help and I swear, she picked up the language so fast—”

“I see where this is going,” Noelle said with a groan. “Damn it, Abby. What is it with your need to play mommy to every fucking girl you meet?”

“He’s
selling
her.”

Noelle blinked. “What?”

“After Inez’s outburst, I spoke to Luis and he actually gloated about it, saying he took Lucia because he found out Rubio was stealing from him, skimming from the drug profits. The daughter’s suffering was the father’s punishment.” Her chest ached again, and this time it had nothing to do with her sore ribs. “At that point he trusted me, and he told me he had a surprise, something he thought I would enjoy. He took me to the prison, to a trapdoor that led to the tunnel system under the compound. There’s a bunker down there.”

“Where he’s holding Lucia,” Noelle finished.

Abby shook her head viciously. “Not just her. There were others. About a dozen of them, Noelle. Between eleven and sixteen years old.” Bile clogged her throat. “He told me to pick one out. So we could play with her together.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck is right. Blanco is impotent, but he gets off on power, and he wanted to see me screw one of the girls.” She fought for breath. “I made a big thing about how I’m not into women, how they disgust me. So he locked up the bunker and took me back to the main house. Made me screw one of his guards instead.”

She felt dirty just saying the words out loud, but it had to be done. Noelle needed the details—
all
the details—
before she agreed to get involved. And at this point Abby needed her boss on board.

“I did some snooping and managed to fill in the blanks,” she continued. “Blanco’s holding an auction. Apparently he’s done it before, sold off young girls to interested bidders. They pay a price to attend, and the girls are paraded in front of them like pieces of meat.”

“And you couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Noelle mumbled.

Abby stiffened. “No, I couldn’t. I found out that the only way down to the bunker is through the prison, but I couldn’t get Blanco to take me back there again. He had guards on me at all times. So I decided to get caught.”

“God, Abby, that’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. How could you be certain he wouldn’t kill you outright?”

“I dropped enough hints to convince him I might be government and that I’d been checking in with my supervisor.” She shrugged. “He wanted Devlin to interrogate me.”

“And then?” Noelle asked darkly. “What did he plan for you?”

“He was going to put me up for auction.” Abby gave a humorless smile. “He figured some of the prospective buyers might want a female with a bit more maturity.” She paused. “I know you were worried about me and that’s why you sent Morgan and his team, but damn it, I wish you’d given me more time.”

“So Blanco and Devlin could slit your throat?”

“So I could rescue those girls.” Desperation crept into her voice. “I have to go back, Noelle. Please, you need to help me find a way back.”

A short silence fell between them. Abby could see
Noelle’s shrewd brain working, going over all the information that had just been fed into it.

Abby waited patiently. Her boss didn’t like to be rushed.

The nape of her neck suddenly tingled, and she slowly turned her head to find Kane standing by the glass door separating the kitchen from the terrace. His green eyes were stoic, his handsome jaw set in an uneasy line as he watched her.

Again, that burst of heat ignited in her belly. She couldn’t seem to stop noticing how gorgeous he was. He was a big man, with a lean, muscular body that hadn’t been sculpted in a gym. He radiated strength, and it wasn’t hard to picture him soundlessly creeping through a jungle or hanging off a helicopter.

Why was her body responding to him? She had no problem using sex to achieve her goals, but she derived no pleasure from it. Sex was just another form of violence. And she already had enough of that in her life.

“I think this is a suicide mission,” Noelle said frankly, jerking Abby out of her thoughts. “And I’m not a crusader, honey—you know that. Those girls… Fate has given them a bad deal.”

“They’re being sold as sex slaves,” Abby said through clenched teeth.

“Luck of the draw. You can’t save everyone, hon.”

Somehow Noelle’s callous attitude didn’t surprise her. It did, however, annoy the shit out of her. Fine, so maybe those girls had been dealt a crappy hand, but if someone had the opportunity to save them, shouldn’t they try to alter fate?

“What if Jeremy had decided not to save
me
?” she said softly.

“Then you would have saved yourself. You’re a warrior, Abby.”

“But Lucia and the other girls aren’t like me. They’re fragile and innocent and I can’t let this happen to them.” She curled her fingers over the edge of the railing, her body tight with desperation. “Please, help me save them. I know there’s still some shred of humanity left in you, Noelle. You act tough, saunter around like a coldhearted bitch, but I know you remember what it’s like to be helpless.”

Noelle’s shoulders tensed.

“You remember how it feels to be at the mercy of someone more powerful than you,” Abby went on, her voice quiet. “So for fuck’s sake, help me.”

“She’s pretty.”

Kane turned his head as Lloyd came up beside him. Lloyd’s gaze was focused on the two women on the terrace, though Kane wasn’t sure which one the compliment had been directed at. Probably Noelle, who once again wore all black, with her golden hair streaming down her back. Abby was in the sweatpants and T-shirt Kane had dressed her in back in Bogotá. He’d thought about sending Ethan into town to buy her some clothes, but Noelle had beat him to it. She’d dropped three shopping bags jammed with clothing on the kitchen floor before marching out to the terrace to give Abby a piece of her mind.

The two women hadn’t even embraced, he’d noticed with perplexity. Noelle had simply ordered Kane to leave, then unleashed what looked like a vicious reprimand on Abby. What kind of relationship did they have? Boss-employee? Nah—they looked a lot closer than
that. Mother-daughter, maybe, though Noelle couldn’t have been much older than Abby. But there was a definite bond between them—anyone could see that. Even now, with their eyes blazing at each other and the muffled angry voices he could make out from behind the glass, it was evident the two women respected—even cared about—each other.

“Abby,” Lloyd clarified when Kane didn’t answer. “She’s very pretty.”

Kane shifted his eyes. “Ex–Mafia thugs aren’t supposed to use words like
pretty
, Lloyd.”

The giant of a man gave a clumsy shrug. “Would you prefer I said
smokin’ hot
?”

He laughed. “Don’t let that red hair and sweet face fool you. The woman is a tiger.”

“Probably awesome in bed, though,” came Luke’s drawl.

Luke entered the kitchen wearing a pair of faded jeans and a New Orleans Saints jersey with the sleeves cut off. Bear was scampering on Luke’s heels, making a beeline for the door. The dog pressed his nose against the glass and began to whine, his gaze focused on Abby in such concentration that Kane shook his head in bewilderment. He’d never seen the mutt take such an immediate liking to a person.

Luke noticed it too, and frowned. “I think I need to teach him the word
assassin
,” he remarked wryly. “Though he does have impeccable taste. Don’t you, Bear?” Luke’s dark eyes twinkled with pleasure as he zeroed in on the two women. “Who do you think is hotter?”

Kane rolled his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I say the redhead,” Luke announced as he went to the fridge to grab a beer. “Even with that black eye she’s
totally hot. And, like I said, probably crazy good in the sack.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be vulgar.”

Luke hooted. “Oh, come on. We all know you were thinking the same thing.”

Fine, so maybe he kind of was. It bugged him, this inexplicable attraction he was feeling toward Abby Sinclair. She wasn’t even his type, damn it. Luke might be willing to screw anything in a skirt, but Kane was very specific about the women he chose to spend time with: bold, laid-back, and flirty—chicks he could have fun with, then walk away from without dealing with any clingy, please-love-me shit. Abby might be bold, in a scary, dangerous sort of way, but she sure as hell wasn’t laid-back. She was wound tighter than a drum, and he had a feeling she could kill him without blinking an eye.

Oddly, that was kind of a turn-on.

“I want to meet the rest of them,” Luke said as he twisted the cap off his beer bottle.

“The rest of who?”

“Noelle’s chameleons. Think they all look like Abby?”

Kane sighed. “You have a one-track mind, Lucas. Do you ever
not
think about sex?”

The other man grinned. “Nope. And I don’t just think about it—I
have
it too. Lots of it. Which is more than I can say for you.” Luke slanted his head. “When was the last time
you
got laid?”

“What can I say? I’m pickier than you are,” Kane said with a shrug. “I don’t have sex just for the sake of having sex.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet. You like
intimacy
.”

Intimacy? Uh, no. The last thing he enjoyed doing was opening himself up to the women in his bed. He got off,
and got out of there. Maybe he didn’t share Luke’s jubilant, anyone’ll-do mentality, but he was on Luke’s side when it came to commitment. Definitely overrated, in his opinion.

He opened his mouth, ready with a comeback, when his ass started vibrating. Reaching into his back pocket, he fished out his cell phone and glanced at the caller ID screen. Unknown number. Wrinkling his forehead, he flipped the phone open and said, “Yeah?”

A faint British accent greeted his ears. “Why, hello there, Kane. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Every muscle in his body coiled tight. “Devlin,” he said in a lethal voice.

Beside him, Luke’s grin faded, his face hardening with menace.

“How did you get this number?” Kane asked.

Devlin chuckled. “Aren’t you going to say hello to an old friend? No ‘how are you’? No ‘how’s life been treating you’?”

“We’re not friends.”

“We were once.”

Kane ignored the reminder. His fingers tightened over the phone. “What do you want, Devlin?” he demanded.