I glance at Max’s Explorer. “Can we take Max’s car? I’ll see it gets back to his apartment.”
“I don’t see why not.” The agent grins at me. “Max used to talk about you all the time. Then he stopped. If what broke you up can be fixed, I bet Max would make the effort. I’d never seen a man more crazy in love.”
I feel color flood up my neck. What broke us up is Max seeing something like what happened here—and running away from it as quickly as he could. Some damage can’t be repaired.
Even if Max survives.
The agent sees my discomfort. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He makes a self-conscious noise in his throat and changes the subject. “Do you have the keys?”
I cross to the driver’s side of the Explorer and look in. “Keys are in the ignition.”
“Then we have all the information we need. You are probably anxious to be on your way.” He gives us a two-fingered salute to the bill of his cap and turns on his heels. I think he’s the one anxious to get away, embarrassed he said anything about Max and me.
I gesture for Culebra and Adelita to join me. Hand the keys to Culebra.
“You want me to drive the first shift?” he asks.
“I want you to drive home. With Adelita.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not coming?”
I glance toward the helicopter still visible in the distance. “I’m going to the hospital. Stay in McAllen until I know Max is all right.”
Culebra tilts his head and peers into my face. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you at home?”
“Probably not,” I answer. “I’ll call Stephen as soon as I can.”
“Where are you going to stay? Do you have money for a hotel?”
I wave my wallet. “I’ll be fine.
Adelita steps up to me and hugs me so fiercely, I gasp. Then I laugh and hug her back. “Call me as soon as you get to Beso de la Muerte.”
Culebra watches as she crosses to the passenger side of the car. “You should be proud of what we’ve done today,” he says.
I blow out a breath. “You, too, my friend. Only one regret. Luis didn’t tell us the location of the guns. I saw you looking at the rifles. I should have made him talk before we left Ramon’s hideout.”
Culebra shrugs. “We thought we’d have time. Maybe with Luis dead and Pablo in jail, the cartel will be more involved with fighting each other for control then drug dealing. At least for a while they’ll use the guns on each other. Might give the DEA and Federales a chance to turn up the heat again. Close down some of the growers. Get to the source.”
His words make me think of Esmeralda and her sister. Stolen from their schoolyard while teachers looked on. The cancer runs deep.
Culebra looks around. “I guess it’s time to go.”
Still, he makes no move to get into the car. His thoughts are cloaked, but his feelings once again come through.
“You aren’t responsible for Max being shot,” I say quietly.
He looks reflexively toward the guns, watches a DEA agent as he goes from one to another, noting serial numbers. “You can’t know that.”
“Max wouldn’t hold you responsible. You fought with him. You have been a better friend to him than I have been to you. I am sorry for that.”
He opens the car door and slips inside. The emotion coming through now is mingled relief and sadness, both too deep to be put into words.
“Max has a GPS system,” I tell him, grasping for a way to breach the awkwardness. “Do you want me to show you how to use it?”
He scoffs, grinning at Adelita. “I know how to get home. Yo no necesito ningún apestoso GPS.”
Adelita looks puzzled. “Why don’t we need a stinking GPS?”
I laugh. “It’s Culebra’s idea of joke. A line from a movie, The Treasure of Sierra Madre.”
“Greatest movie ever made,” he says.
“Probably the last movie you ever saw, right?” I say.
“That, too.” He turns to Adelita. “Buckle up. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Adelita pulls on the seat belt. Culebra puts the Explorer in gear and they back out of the hangar. Culebra is smiling and for the moment at least, his mind is at peace. Something it shocks me to realize I’ve never felt from him before.
I wave until the car disappears.
CHAPTER 60
I’M SITTING BY MAX’S BEDSIDE. IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS and his condition has not changed. Loss of blood and the damage done by a jacketed bullet to his internal organs make his prognosis iffy at best.
I can’t leave him. As far as I know, he has no family. No one has showed up to visit except fellow DEA agents. They come to check on him and pay their respects. Capturing Pablo made him a hero.
But at what cost?
I’ve had lots of time to sort through the events of the last few days. Vampire has never been so virulent and aggressive as in that hangar. I don’t regret anything that happened, but I wonder if I’ll always be able to exert control over her. We are two sides of a single coin but one seems to turn up slightly more often. Right now, it’s the human side. But I can’t forget the thrill I felt as vampire, making Ramon pay, chasing and killing Pablo’s men.
I, the human me, was there inside, but I didn’t try to surface. Didn’t try to temper or restrain vampire. It felt too good to let go. Adrenaline and blood make a heady vampire cocktail.
Then there was Luis. I was strictly human when I shot him to make him talk. I was human when I dropped that grenade on the drug truck, knowing there were men inside.
Do I regret doing any of those things?
No.
Should I feel guilty?
I look at Max, as pale as the white hospital sheets. Tubes in each arm.
If I’m honest, no. I don’t regret one drop of blood I spilled—or drank.
My thoughts turn to Culebra. The way he telegraphed an inner peace when he left with Adelita. It strikes me that he may see her as a chance to make up for losing his own daughter. For being responsible for the death of his family.
My cell phone vibrates, telling me I have a message. I turned off the ringer when I came into the hospital. Now I check the display and when I see who the call is from, my shoulders bunch.
Stephen.
We’ve been playing telephone tag since I got to McAllen. I checked into a motel near the hospital and tried to call him right away. The call went directly to voice mail. Then I called his sister in San Diego. I got a very chilly reception from her. “Stephen is in Washington,” she said abruptly. The “as if you care” part left hanging in the air like an icicle.
Since then, Stephen and I keep missing each other.
I sigh and get to my feet. If I call back right now, I should reach him.
It’s time.
I step out into a sunny Texas afternoon and walk to an outside patio area off the hospital cafeteria. There are a few occupied tables but most are empty so I choose one in a far corner and press Send.
Stephen picks up right away. There is a long silence before he finally breaks it. “Anna.”
I let another long moment pass before I get the courage to say, “Hi.”
Hi. Really great.
Stephen’s sigh resonates so much emotion through the phone line that I cringe. Disappointment, sadness, anger, disillusionment. All in one exhalation of breath. All directed at me.
I say the only thing I can. “I’m sorry.”
No reply.
“Are you in Washington?”
“Didn’t you speak with my sister? You know I am.”
Crap. “Well. I just called to tell you I’m sorry. I never intended for this happen.”
“For what to happen, Anna? For you to disappear out of my life with no explanation? For you to go days without letting me know what you were doing or if you were living or dead? You know, it’s been in all the newspapers. How you and your DEA buddy were involved in taking down Luis and Pablo Santiago and dismantling their cartel. Quite a story. I wish I could have covered it.”
“Stephen, I didn’t know it was in the papers. I was never interviewed by anyone except DEA agents. I never spoke to the press. We didn’t dismantle the cartel. You know how impossible that would be. It’s all hype.”