Framing Felipe (10 page)

He
didn’t
respond
other
than
to
gently
push
her
hair
back
from
her
eyes
and
tuck
it

behind
her
ear.

That
did
it.
She
let
go
of
his
waistband,
and
loped
away,
cringing
at
her
behavior,
and

mumbling,
“Oh
my
God.
Oh
my
God.”

She
paused
at
the
closet
to
retrieve
the
aluminum
case
she’d
deposited
there
the
day

before,
and
pretended
to
be
very
busy
searching
for
something.
She
strived
for
coolness,

FRAMING FELIPE
–
36
–
Holley Trent

but
with
her
blood
drumming
loud
in
her
ears
and
legs
somewhat
wobbly,
she
wasn’t
sure

if
she
was
modeling
the
desired
effect.

“
Permiso
,
Sarah,”
he
said
in
that
same
low
whisper
as
before.
He
stood
mere
inches

from
her
back,
but
didn’t
touch
her,
thank
God.

With
him
being
so
close,
her
body’s
hyperawareness
of
his
raised
the
hairs
on
her
neck.

Her
sex
ached
at
thoughts
of
the
sort
of
ravaging
she
imagined
him
capable
of.
The
imagery

flashed
through
her
mind—him
pressing
her
against
the
wall,
yanking
down
her
pants,

having
his
fill
of
her
and
leaving
her
breathless.
Eyes
closed,
she
sucked
in
a
bolstering

breath,
and
told
her
body
“No”
until
it
believed
it.

When
she
thought
she
was
in
control
of
her
expression,
she
opened
her
eyes
and

turned
to
face
him.
“Permission
for
what?”

He
closed
the
small
distance
between
them,
but
didn’t
touch.
His
nose
was
millimeters

from
hers,
and
her
pressed
hands
on
the
doorframe
at
either
side
of
her
face.
His

expression
was
placid.
Controlled.

Asshole
.

“Permission
to
touch,
Sarah.”

She
furrowed
her
forehead,
striving
for
a
look
of
incredulity.
“Excuse
me?
I’m
pretty

sure
you
started
this
shit.”

He
wasn’t
buying
it.
His
smirk
said
as
much.
“Yes.
Respeto
.
You
need
guidelines.
Good

little
soldier.
You
follow
instructions.”

Her
face
numbed
at
his
words.
How
did
he
know?
He
shouldn’t
have
known
that.
Was

he
reading
her
the
way
Patrick
did
Dana,
or
was
she
just
that
transparent?

He
switched
to
pure
English
and
narrowed
those
gray
eyes
at
her.
“I
make
it
easy.
I
tell

you
where
to
touch.
And
when.
And
you
will.”

She
didn’t
have
much
fight
left
in
her,
but
Sarah
Miller
wasn’t
a
woman
who
was
easy

to
get.
She
squared
her
jaw
and
put
some
heat
in
her
stare.
“Will
I?
I
don’t
think
so.”

She
didn’t
need
to
answer
that.
They
both
knew
she
would.
She’d
go
along
with
the

playacting…at
least
for
a
little
while.
It’d
be
just
like
working
undercover,
and
she
was
used

to
that.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
37
–
Holley Trent

She
dipped
out
from
under
his
arms
and
carried
the
case
to
the
table
where
she
picked

up
the
keys
to
Patrick’s
truck.
“Let’s
hit
the
road.
You
need
to
give
me
some
information

about
what’s
going
on
inside
that
circus
of
yours
so
Dana
and
Patrick
can
get
the
cats
out.”

“Do
I
have
to
sit
in
the
back
seat
again?
Like
a
dog?”

“You
are
a
dog,”
she
mumbled,
grazing
his
left
side
on
the
way
past
the
coffee
table

toward
the
door.

Before
she
could
make
it
there,
however,
the
sound
of
close-‐range
gunshot,
shattering

glass,
and
Tamara
shouting
in
Romanian
gave
Sarah
pause.
An
animalistic
scream
cut

through
the
air
and
it
wasn’t
cat,
but
not
quite
bear,
either.

“Shit.”
Sarah
shucked
off
her
jacket
and
raced
to
the
door,
her
hand
already
tightened

around
her
gun’s
grip.
“Close
and
lock
the
door
behind
me,”
she
shouted
to
Felipe.
She
ran

out
onto
the
porch
with
her
gun
trained
on
the
addition’s
roof.
She
didn’t
check
behind
her

to
see
if
Felipe
had
listened.
What
kind
of
idiot
wouldn’t
listen?

FRAMING FELIPE
–
38
–
Holley Trent

“
Mujer
loca.
”

The
screen
door
rattled
against
its
frame
as
Sarah
hurled
herself
into
the
firefight.
It

was
as
if
she
were
immune
to
the
feral
shrieks
that
would
have
given
any
sane
person

pause.
The
sounds
were
made
by
something—
someone
—who
was
obviously
not
quite

human.
No.
Not
sane,
that
woman.
She’d
heard
and
reacted,
and
there’d
been
very
little

time
in
between
the
two
things.
It
was
like
some
switch
had
been
thrown
in
her
head.
She

was
off,
then
on—just
like
that.

Crazy
woman,
yes,
but
a
fearless
one.
And
maybe
he
knew
a
little
something
about

crazy,
because
his
impulse
had
been
to
follow
her,
unarmed.
That
was
his
way,
just
like
so

many
times
in
the
past
when
he’d
had
to
intercede
between
Jacques
and
some
troupe

member
at
their
absolute
abuse
limit.
He’d
just
thrown
himself
into
the
fight,
consequences

be
damned…just
like
Sarah
did.

But,
this
wasn’t
his
battle.
He
didn’t
know
these
people.

Footsteps
thundered
across
the
porch
planks,
and
Felipe
moved
toward
the
door,

preparing
to
phase
in
defense.
He
didn’t
need
to.
The
surly
blonde
named
Tamara
streaked

past,
shouting
in
what
he
now
suspected
was
Romanian.
He’d
been
around
the
Gypsies

enough
to
catch
scraps
of
it.
Sarah
passed
right
behind
her,
covering
her
friend’s
back
and

firing
her
gun
into
the
nearby
woods.
Moments
later,
light
footsteps
skittered
overhead.
He

guessed
Tamara
had
climbed
onto
the
roof.

A
grunt,
a
snarl,
one
final
gunshot,
then
silence.
Uncomfortable
silence—the
kind
that

had
always
gnawed
at
his
gut
and
filled
him
with
a
sense
of
overwhelming
foreboding.
The

sense
that
the
shit
would
hit
the
fan
and
there
wasn’t
a
damned
thing
he
could
do
to

contain
it.

“Ugh!
Lavincompáe
.”

Although
it
seemed
irrational,
he
felt
he
did
indeed
have
something
at
stake
in
this

battle:
an
opportunity
which
he
may
never
encounter
the
likes
of
again.
An
opportunity

that
made
his
heart
pound
and
his
arms
ache
to
be
filled.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
39
–
Holley Trent

He
loped
to
the
door,
but
before
Felipe
could
press
his
hands
against
the
screen,
a

man—covered
half
in
fur,
half
in
skin—fell
in
a
limp
pile
from
the
roof
onto
the
ground
in

front
of
the
porch.

Tamara
landed
gracefully
on
her
feet
next
to
the
creature,
and
reached
for
his
wrists
as

she
ground
her
knee
against
his
spine.

He
bowed
up,
snarling,
and
showing
off
pointed
canine
teeth
and
a
half-‐shifted
face

that
struck
Felipe
with
painful
familiarity.

Felipe’s
jaw
slackened
as
recognition
sank
in.
He’d
seen
that
freak
before—or
at
least

one
of
his
kind,
but
his
gut
said
this
was
more
than
déjà
vu.
This
was
this
creature’s
favored

form,
and
if
this
was
the
man
he
thought
he
recognized…

He
threw
his
shoulder
against
the
door
and
shouted,
“
Arpía
,
muéva
!”
as
he
pounded

down
the
stairs.

Tamara
looked
up,
eyes
narrowed
at
Felipe,
but
before
he
could
explain
his
concern,

the
creature
shifted
suddenly,
forcing
jagged
spikes
through
the
back
of
his
now-‐shredded

shirt.
They
pricked
her
hands,
prompting
her
to
release
his
wrists,
and
stabbed
the
insides

of
jean-‐clad
legs.

Somewhere
at
the
side
of
the
house,
Sarah
shouted
an
emphatic,
“Fuck!”

“No!”
Felipe
shouted,
and
gave
Sarah
a
stay
there
gesture
he
was
certain
she
wouldn’t

heed.
The
creatures
never
worked
solo,
and
if
she
walked
out
there,
she’d
be
not
much

more
than
fresh
bait.
They
wouldn’t
care
that
she
was
a
woman
and
that
she
didn’t
pick
the

fight.
They
were
all
about
impulse
and
self-‐preservation.
Perfect
traits
for
mercenaries.

“I
told
you
to
stay
in
the
house
,”
Sarah
snarled,
ignoring
his
warning,
as
predicted,
and

striding
toward
her
struggling
peer.

“Save
the
attitude
for
some
bitch,”
he
said
in
Spanish,
and
stepped
forward
to
put

himself
in
Sarah’s
path.
There
was
another
one
of
those
things
nearby,
and
he
needed
her

to
move
slowly,
even
if
she
didn’t
know
why.

He
could
tell
when
she’d
successfully
translated
his
barb,
because
for
a
moment,
her

eyes
widened
and
jaw
gaped.
Just
a
moment,
though.
Next
came
her
growl
as
a
second

creature
dropped
from
a
nearby
tree
and
ran
toward
the
woods.
They
hadn’t
thought
to

look
up
.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
40
–
Holley Trent

The
injured
mercenary
tossed
Tamara
clear
of
his
back
and
took
off
after
his
friend.
His

gait
was
only
mildly
impaired
by
his
bullet-‐riddled
left
leg.
He
was
a
creature
used
to

manipulating
his
body,
and
was
probably
already
shifting:
expelling
the
foreign
objects.

As
strong
as
he
was,
and
as
fast
as
he
ran,
Felipe
had
him
at
the
advantage.
Fast
Felipe,

the
man
who’d
stunned
circus-‐goers
time
and
time
again
for
being
there
one
moment,
and

seemingly
vanished
the
next.
The
man
who
somersaulted
so
quickly,
he
became
a
blur.
The

man
who
could
use
the
speed
of
the
wind
as
his
own.

He
had
to
make
a
quick
decision.
Take
the
weak
one
who’d
been
too
distracted
to
see

him,
or
try
to
stop
the
strong
one.