I sigh. “Yeah. Let him know what?” But I know Max is right. I dig my cell out of my pocket and ring Stephen. He picks up right away.

“Anna? Where are you? I’ve been worried.”

“Sorry, Stephen. The job is going to take longer than I expected. I’m going out of town. I wish I could tell you how long, but I’m not sure.”

“So, David and Tracey are going with you?”

Uh-oh. Something in his tone gives me pause. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re not with them, are you?”

Ice is forming through the phone lines. To make matters worse, I feel Max’s eyes on me. Fuck it. “No.”

“Well, at least this time you’re being honest. I talked to David an hour ago. Why would you lie to me? Why would you let me think you were with them?”

“I didn’t lie to you. And if you’ll recall, you hung up before I could tell you who I was with.”

As soon as I say it, I know I’ve sunk myself deeper into the pit. Sure enough, Stephen counters with, “Well, here’s your chance to set the record straight. Who are you with and what are you doing?”

From outside, the sound of the plane engine roars into life. I grab at it like a lifeline, an excuse to cut the conversation short. “I’m sorry, Stephen, I have to go. I’ll call you when I can.”

This time, before Stephen can respond, I disconnect. I look over at Max. He’s giving me one of those “I told you so” looks. I give him one of those “fuck you” looks and narrow my eyes. “Don’t say it. Not a fucking word.”

CHAPTER 19

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF RESCUE PLAN CULEBRA and Ramon have in mind, or how Max and I will be involved. At this moment, it doesn’t matter. Ramon’s story compels me to help him.

Even the turbulence we hit as the small plane is buffeted by wind blowing off the hills doesn’t bother me.

The acid churning my gut is not from the prospect of danger or the choppy ride. It’s caused by the thought that I don’t know if Stephen will be waiting for me when we get back. Why in the world didn’t I tell him what I’m doing? It’s like I have a chronic aversion to telling the truth even when there’s no need to lie. Is it because he’s human? Is it because Max is an unhappy reminder of what happens when I’m honest with a mortal partner?

I rest my head against the seat, close my eyes. My scorecard with boyfriends is pretty bleak. Human or supernatural, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. I either piss them off, scare them away or kill them. Stephen deserved better. Of all of them, he was the best. I really liked him.

Liked him. I’m already thinking of him in past tense.

“Anna?”

I open one eye. Max has taken the seat next to me. I pull myself upright. “What?”

“We’ll be landing in about thirty minutes. Are you all right?”

“Peachy. I’ve probably lost the nicest boyfriend I’ve ever had.” I give him the fish eye. “Present company included.”

He shrugs. “Maybe you have, maybe you haven’t. Won’t do you any good to obsess about it. We’re going into a dangerous situation. Best get your head straight.”

I bite back the sarcastic “no shit” comeback that almost springs from my lips and ask instead, “What’s the plan?”

“My guess? When we land, we’ll go straight to the safe house where Ramon has his family. We’ll figure the rest from there.”

“Does Ramon know about me?”

“That you’re vampire? I’m not sure. He and Culebra have spent the flight talking but I get the impression it’s more catching up than anything else. Those two were close once upon a time. There’s a lot of history.”

Max gets quiet for a moment. “You were thinking about Trish when Ramon spoke of what happened to his son, weren’t you?”

Max was around during the time Trish came into my life. He knows what happened to her. He doesn’t know what happened to me—not all of it—not about the rape that resulted in my becoming vampire. We were dating then and I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him about it. I still can’t.

I simply nod.

“I was, too,” he says. “Is she doing well now?”

So well it makes me smile. “Yes. She and my folks were just here for a visit. They’re selling the La Mesa house. France agrees with them.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I know you’ll miss them, but I’m glad it’s worked out.”

Silence settles around us. Well, silence in the sense that Max and I no longer talk. The drone and throb of the plane’s twin engines fills the cabin with noise and vibration. This is a bare-bones transport plane. Six seats jammed together in an empty cargo space. Empty now. Since the pharmaceutical smell of cut cocaine and the earthy smell of marijuana lingers, there’s no doubt that this plane’s primary purpose is running drugs.

I look out the window, but even with vampire vision, I can’t see much. There’s no moon to cast even a shadow on the terrain below. It’s a dark blur of black on black. Occasionally we pass over a cluster of lights from a village, but nothing that resembles a city. I think the pilot is purposely avoiding well-trafficked air space.

I remember from the map that the route was a straight shot across Mexico and that Reynosa was on the Rio Grande. I also remember from newspaper articles that it was a hotspot of cartel killings. Reynosa is like an 1880s Tombstone. I have the feeling we’re heading right into our own gunfight at the OK Corral.

“Do you really think you have a chance of getting close to Santiago?” I ask Max after a minute.

He lifts his shoulders. “Depends on how badly he wants Ramon. He may send some men to do the actual killing but if he’s really pissed, he may want to be there to make sure it gets done right.”

“Are you going to alert your DEA buddies when we land?”

“Not right away. Not until I know we have a chance to get Santiago.” He grins. “Besides, I have the best backup I could hope for. Culebra and a vampire with a hatred for people who abuse kids.”

I snort. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Well, don’t let it go to your head. It’s probably the last nice thing I’ll ever say to you.”

Yeah. Before this trip is over, I’m sure I’ll piss him off again. He’s so easy to piss off and I’m so good at it.

IT’S NOT UNTIL WE COME IN FOR A LANDING THAT I realize how close to the ground we’d been flying. First a bright orange flicker appears suddenly out of the darkness in front of us. Then, we’re descending, and the next moment, the wheels are scraping dirt. A cloud of dust rises like a ghostly fog, obscuring my view out the window. I assume the low altitude was to escape radar detection but frankly, I’m glad I didn’t know how low we were flying. And doubly glad we had a pilot who knew the terrain.

We deplane while the engine is running at a dirt airstrip surrounded by dense brush. Dust hangs in the air and at the far end of the field, a second orange flicker dances in the darkness before it’s quickly extinguished. A boy has thrown a tarp over what I can see now is a burning barrel of—I sniff. Oil. The boy is running back toward us now and the pilot waves a hand.

There’s a building with open hangar doors and after we jump out, the pilot waits for the boy to climb aboard and then turns the plane toward the hangar.

Culebra and Ramon are walking to a battered Jeep parked a hundred yards away from the airstrip. Max and I follow. Ramon motions us inside and cranks the engine over.

I look toward the hangar. “The pilot isn’t coming?”

“He’ll wait for us here,” Ramon answers.

It’s a quiet ride. No conversation from the front seats or back. I glance at my watch. Ten. Max catches the gesture, mimics it.

“It’s two hours later here,” he says, slipping off his watch to adjust the time.

I do the same. Midnight. The witching hour.

We travel for thirty minutes down dirt roads with no discernable signs of life. We must be a good distance from Reynosa. No glimmer of city lights. I do catch the scent of water and hear the rush of currents. The Rio Grande is somewhere behind the thick curtain of vegetation we’re skirting.