Enemy Mine (8 page)

Selena not only refused to touch her guests, but she didn’t have to. She just had to get into their heads. But this guy had proven to be a challenge. He’d been so brainwashed with fear by Chávez’s watchdogs, his mind was closed. But she had other methods.

She reached past Balderama and retrieved a long syringe from a stainless steel tray in the corner. She held it up and pushed slightly on the plunger. An arc of fluid shot up into the air. She smiled down at the gagged man, who strained at his bindings. “
Amigo
, do you know what’s in this syringe?”

Vehemently he shook his head.

She bent closer and practically cooed in his face, “It’s concentrated
E. coli
. Enough to kill every living organism in Caracas.” His dark eyes widened. “Do you have family in Caracas?” He nodded, grunting against the tape. “I hope you said good-bye to them.” Selena stuck the needle into the IV and slowly pushed the plunger. The man screamed, the sound nothing but a muffle. “The symptoms of
E. coli
poisoning present quickly.” She pressed the plunger farther. “Severe cramping comes first, followed by bloody diarrhea, then vomiting. With a dosage this virulent, death will come quickly but very painfully.” She reached over him and grabbed another syringe. “Do you know what I have here?”

He shook his head, beads of his perspiration flinging onto her clothes. “This is the antidote.” She pressed the plunger and liquid shot into the air. “If it’s administered within minutes of contamination, recovery is immediate.”

She locked gazes with his. “Now. Are you ready to answer my questions and go home? Or do you wish to die here, in a foreign land?”

Her guest’s body contorted against the duct tape. Selena smiled and ripped the wide strip from his mouth. “Did you say you would answer my questions?”

“Sí,”
he gushed. “Give me the antidote now!”

Selena stepped back and tsked. “No, no,
señor
. You tell me what I want to know first. If I’m satisfied, then I give it to you.”

“You will bring my family here?”

When word got out he’d talked, his entire bloodline would be destroyed. “I give you my word.” She meant it.

“My name is Eduardo Perez, I work for Capitán Juan Perot, who is
el presidente
Chávez’s nuclear man. A deal was brokered with the Russians for the cask, but they double-crossed us!”

“Who else wants it?”

He looked at the syringe in her hand, then up at her. “I don’t know.”

Selena stepped back.

“I swear on my daughter’s life!” he screamed. “But—I heard talk of an auction. The Russian, Noslov, would have that information.”

“Where is the cask now?”

“On its way to Russia via Kazakhstan.”

“Impossible,”
el patrón
scoffed.

“It’s true,” Perez insisted. “There are tunnels. Hundreds of miles of tunnels beneath the borders.”

Selena tapped the syringe thoughtfully against her open palm. She knew about the tunnels, but the man’s willingness to tell her about them meant he was probably being honest about the rest. She looked over to Balderama. “
Patrón
, do you have a question?”

“What is the name of your captain’s contact?” he asked the driver.

“I don’t know his name.”

“How do you know he exists then?”

“I—I—for a little insurance, I followed him several times. I never got close enough to hear anything, but I was close enough that if I saw him again, I would recognize him.”

“Who else knows of this?”

“No one. I swear. Only me.”

El patrón
reached over and took the syringe with the antidote in it from Selena. She stiffened when he pushed the plunger, sending the entire contents spewing onto the floor.

Perez screamed. “I gave you what you wanted!” Balderama smiled tightly. “You betrayed your country. You cannot be trusted.”

The doomed man looked to Selena, his eyes pleading for her intervention. She looked calmly to Balderama and said, “
Patrón
, I injected him with saline solution. It’s harmless.” She pointed to the empty syringe in his hand. “That was the same thing but with some food coloring.”

“That is unfortunate,” Balderama softly said, and stepped closer to the driver. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.” In a quick, expert move, Balderama snapped Perez’s neck. Selena gasped and stepped back. She had not been expecting such a vicious act. Not from this quiet diplomat. But then, had he not once told her he had seen the ugliest of what man could do to man?

“Patrón?”
she breathed.

Balderama turned fiery eyes on her. “There is no room in our business to coddle traitors, on either side.”

Selena stood back and nodded. He was right, of course. Too much was at stake to give a known traitor a second chance.

Balderama pressed his hand to her chin, raised it, and looked deeply into her soul. “Trust no one,
mija
. No one.”

Once more, she thought of Johnny. The man who had trusted her and been sorry for it. Balderama stepped back, releasing her. “Our eyes and ears will track down this Noslov. When we have a location, I want you to approach the Russian and convince him to have his auction here.”

“In Miami?”

“
Sí
, in Lost Souls. It is paramount I know who is in the market for such a deadly product. Our world is changing every day,
mija
. To protect our culture, we must broaden not only our horizons but also our borders, so to speak. And now more than ever, we must adopt a strategy American football coaches call prevent offense. We get them before they get us.”

Selena nodded. She understood.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
he Gold Coast at midnight had come alive. Like a living, breathing rock star high on cocaine, it pulsated with vitality and energy unlike any other.

Nikko stood across the street from Lost Souls. Scents and sounds swirled around him, blending into an indistinguishable blob. But he didn’t need to be told Selena was inside. He could smell her. Exotic and sultry, her scent overrode all others. He had thought that learning she was alive, then seeing the proof positive in pictures, had elicited a strong reaction from him at the compound, but the reality of it now created an emotional maelstrom inside him. Longing, hate, and betrayal jockeyed for the top spot in his heart. Worming itself between all of those feelings was the unmitigated desire to hold her again, to make love to her—not the cold-blooded killer she was today, but the innocent girl he’d fallen in love with so long ago, before she—Nikko mentally shook himself. He allowed the hatred and his need for vengeance to take control. That would get him through this mission. Keep him sane as his body, his mind, and his soul continued to evolve into something and someone so foreign to him, he would admit only to himself that it terrified him. He was unpredictable even to himself. He battled impulses he had always had control of. His emotions raged. It was becoming unbearable, this thing inside him. He sneered, wanting to bend her to his will, to—he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to acknowledge the visions of his taking her until she screamed for him to stop.

No, his desire wasn’t simply to fuck her again. Since his arrival in Miami that morning, a new hunger had taken root. For blood. Anyone’s would do, but he craved Selena’s blood most of all.

Nikko struggled for composure. He was Ice, damn it. He would not blow this mission apart. Put this team at risk. Or himself.

“You smell her?” Cross asked from Nikko’s left.

While Nikko did not have the nuances of a vampire that Cross possessed, he had enough of the primal part to make him dangerous. His senses were honed, his strength impressive, and now his desire for blood was driving the vampire in him. Once he had looked at Cross as a freak, one without feelings or humanity. Now, walking in his shoes, Nikko understood what drove him as a man and a vampire and was impressed at how Cross managed to maintain his iron control. Nikko was having extreme difficulty with that.

“Yeah.”

“Marcus and I will go in first and get the lay of the land,” Cassidy said from Nikko’s right.

He nodded, fighting the craving to get to Selena first. Get her alone. At his mercy. The things he wanted to do to her were inhuman. But hadn’t what she’d done to him made
her
a monster? Nikko set his jaw. What he had done to her made him every bit as much a monster.

He had dived headfirst into love with Selena. Given her every part of him. Only to be betrayed in the most heinous way a woman could betray a man. He had reacted viciously. He had paid for it with his soul. Now his only regret was that she was still alive. How long that would continue was up to him, and he wasn’t feeling particularly generous at the moment.

“Cruz, I don’t like that look,” Cassidy said, staring up at him, her face wrinkled in consternation. “Plot your revenge later.
After
we get what we came for.”

Nikko set his jaw. His revenge would be slow, methodical—

“Cruz, if you give in to the bloodlust, it will destroy you,” Cross quietly said. “It’s like a drug. If you don’t control it, it will control you.”

Nikko closed his eyes and only saw red. “I just want to tear her apart.”

Cassidy touched his hand. He looked down into her serious but compassionate eyes. “I know you do, Nikko. I don’t blame you. But if you can’t get a handle on your emotions, millions of lives could be on the chopping block.”

Nikko exhaled. Cassidy was right. This mission was bigger, much bigger than his hatred for the woman who owned Lost Souls.

He calmed himself. “Go ahead,” he softly said. Nikko scowled when Cassidy looked up at Cross in a way that would melt a man’s heart. A blind man could see they were hot for each other and so in sync nothing could sever the bond. Nikko’s scowl deepened as he watched them, hand in hand and dressed to the nines, stride across the busy street, past the triple-deep line that wrapped around the corner of the building, to the two defensive-lineman-size goons at the door. Cross leaned into the closest one and touched him on the shoulder. Magically the bouncer stepped aside and the doors opened. They were in.

“This place is hopping,” Cross said, his voice loud and clear in Nikko’s earpiece.

“It’s crawling with half of the FBI’s most wanted,” Cassidy added.

“Any sign of Guerrero?”

“Give us a minute, Cruz,” Cassidy snapped. Haltering his urge to get inside, Nikko paced back and forth along the sidewalk as Cross and Cassidy scouted the club and got a lock on Selena. Nikko’s gaze never wavered from the club entrance as he paced, trying to restrain his impulse to blow by the bouncers and find Selena himself, and then … He wondered if he could do that mind-meld thing Cross had done to the bouncers.

Nikko crossed the street, striding straight toward the studded, double brass doors and the two goons standing sentry. Selena’s scent intensified. It hit him so hard, his blood raged through his veins. His heart pounded in his ears. He lifted his nose and inhaled.

She was not alone.

His focus shifted.

A heavy male scent swirled possessively around hers. Testosterone-laden pheromones tangled with her estrogen. Selena Guerrero had come a long way in eight years. Red clouded his vision. The L.O.S.T. operative in him told him he was overreacting, that he was putting his team in peril by going in now. The grieving father and broken lover in him told him the only way to heal was to destroy that which had destroyed him. The arrogant vampire blood that raged within told him he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

Nikko strode toward the door. The goons stepped into his path. Nikko shook his head in warning. When they didn’t back off, he shoved them aside as if they were two-year-olds and grabbed the curved brass door handle so hard he felt the screws loosen.

When he stepped across the threshold, Nikko felt as if he had stepped into another realm. One not of the human world. Energy sparked dark and dangerous. Pungent scents swirled around him. Hearts beat at different tempos—some languorous, others quick and jittery, while those of the humans beat a steady, rich cadence. The multistory club was dark, with just enough strategic lighting to cast a sensual glow. The air was thick with sultry body heat, both human and … not. The tension in Nikko’s body amplified. Selena’s scent had intensified to critical mass. She was close. Close enough to touch.

Two goons approached him. Another two came up fast behind them. Nikko stood his ground, refusing to back down but determined not to make a scene.

“Tell Miss de la Roja, Johnny is here to see her,” Nikko said as they circled him. Their arrogance wafted around him. He stared down the biggest one of the four. “Now.”

The bouncer turned on his heel and strode deep onto the dance floor.

“He’s with us,” Cross said from behind Nikko.

The remaining three bouncers looked surprised, but nodded and left them alone.

“You okay, Cruz?” Cassidy asked, coming around to stand in front of him.

Nikko shook his head. “I’m having trouble controlling the primal parts of me.”

“Your body is accepting the vampire blood injected into you, Cruz,” Cross said. “Your human will is weak compared to your vampire will. The vampire in you intensifies the primal human. It can be euphoric when both have a common agenda. It’s hell when they polarize. Especially when the blood comes from a dominant donor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say your blood, or most of it, came from an ancient, one who as a human had self-control issues. It’s not uncommon for a host body to assume some or all of the donor’s characteristics. Good and bad.”

Cassidy snorted. “That explains a lot.” She looked up at Cross and winked. Despite the tenseness of their situation, he cracked a smile.

“You need to find a way to control your temper, and your impulses, Cruz, or it’ll get one of us killed. And I’m not feeling much like dying again.”

“Nikko,” Cassidy said. “Let me make contact with Guerrero.”

Nikko inhaled deep into his lungs, then slowly exhaled. “I can do this. I know Selena and what buttons to push. I’ll get what we came for.”

“Be careful she doesn’t push
your
buttons, Nikko,” Cassidy warned.

“She’s dead to me,” he said, and wondered if they believed him.

“We’ll be along the perimeter. Keep us updated with your position and what’s going on around you,” Cassidy instructed before she walked off hand in hand with Cross.

Nikko closed his eyes and inhaled. Selena was close. Her scent swirled all around him. He turned toward the dance floor and opened his eyes. His heart shuddered to a stop. Stunned, he could only stare, not believing his eyes.

She stood across the dance floor at the rail of the sweeping stairway that rounded three floors up, staring straight at him. She
was
alive. A living, breathing entity. No more than twenty feet from where he stood. And she looked—he swallowed hard, trying to ease the rapid staccato of his heartbeat—fucking amazing. She was all woman; not one vestige of the girl he had fallen in love with remained. Blood coursed through him. Hot, thick, potent.

She wasn’t alone. A brawny
cubano
stood behind her, his lips pressed against the curve of her throat. His hands slipped around her waist, his big fingers splayed across the curve of her hips. He pulled her back against him.

Rage flared white-hot in Nikko’s belly. Selena’s gaze never wavered, even as her lover’s lips traveled down her throat. Her eyes closed halfway and her lips parted. Her nostrils flared and her nipples tightened beneath the translucent white sheath dress she wore. It hugged her curves like a second skin.

Nikko’s gaze dropped from her tits to her taut belly, then lower to the smooth swell of her pussy. He snarled, his rage intensifying, his vision blurring red. Slowly his gaze rose back to hers. A small smile curved her lips, and if lightning had struck him, Nikko would have felt no more of an electric jolt. He wanted her with an intensity that burned.

As much as he wanted her, he also realized she was playing him. Did she think that, after what she’d done, he had a jealous bone in his body? Her lover’s hand cupped her possessively. His reaction to another man’s touching her infuriated him. He didn’t care who touched her!

“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” Nikko mouthed. As the words escaped, his cock thickened to painful. By all that was holy, he
was
going to fuck her.

Her big, feline eyes widened at his audacious statement. He smiled slowly. Yeah, if anyone was going to fuck Selena Guerrero tonight, it was going to be him. And then he was going to demand she tell him where that cask was, whom she worked for, and what the hell she had injected him with.

Nikko’s legs propelled him forward, through the wild mass of slick, undulating bodies. As if he were Moses, the crowd parted. He stopped a foot from her. She stood above him on the catwalk. His gaze swept up from her perfectly manicured toes, peeking out of what he guessed were ridiculously expensive designer stilettos, up her smooth calves to her knees, then higher to her thighs the material did nothing to hide, only accentuated. Yeah, she had changed. The Selena he’d fallen in love with would never have dressed so provocatively. She sure as hell would not have allowed a man to grope her in public as she was allowing the gangster behind her to do now.

Nikko’s nostrils flared. He could smell her hot, spicy sex. He watched in fascination as her body lengthened and tightened before his eyes. Emotions he had long ago forgotten surfaced and pounded in his chest. God, how he had loved to touch her soft skin. Feel her small hand in his. Hear her laugh at his corny jokes. She’d brought out the best he had to give. He’d loved her with every part of him. His chest tightened until he could barely breathe. Her eyes deepened to onyx, just as they always did before they made love. … Nikko swallowed hard and allowed the anger to surface. It had all been a lie! How dare she stand before him seducing him as another man touched her! His heart demanded retribution, but his body wanted something else entirely. His cock ached so painfully he knew of only one way to ease it.

“Cruz,” Cassidy sharply said in his earpiece. “Don’t do it!”

He pulled the button mic from his shirt.

“Damn it!” she yelled. “We need that information!”

He took the small earpiece out and slid it in his trouser pocket. He’d get the information. But he wanted something else first.

He maneuvered his way up the crowded stairway, stepped behind Selena and, subtly to bystanders but anything but to the recipient, nudged her Latin lothario down the stairway. A handful of men emerged from the shadows, ready to take Nikko to task. He stared each one down.

Just as her lover had done, Nikko slid his arm around Selena’s waist. All Nikko, he spun her around and pulled her hard against his chest. His arm clamped around her slender waist; she didn’t resist. Just the opposite. She moved into him, as if she had some right to him.