Shadow of Temptation (Asylums for Magical Threats #2.5) (7 page)

He didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing to not have any messages from his contacts, but he did notice the time. He only had twenty minutes before he could shift again. It was a good back-up plan to have if things went wrong during Sabrina’s meeting with this Juan guy, but he hoped he didn’t have to use it. He’d much rather use it later today to finish this damn mission so he could run as far away as possible from Sabrina and her warm, smooth skin.

Sabrina knew it was ridiculous, but she swore she could feel Jorge’s eyes on her as she wandered the outdoor section of the market.

Ever since he’d caressed the underside of her wrist and massaged it, she’d become hyperaware of his presence. They had walked in near silence to this location, only speaking to lay out the basics of what would happen and their plans for any unexpected complications. But he’d bumped into her twice—once against her shoulder, and the other time against her hand—and both times she’d barely prevented herself from drawing in a breath. This part of Mexico was warm year-round, but her temperature had definitely knocked up a few degrees when his hand had brushed hers.

Her body had a hell of a way of noticing who was attractive. Considering he’d tied her up twice and drugged her, Jorge Salazar should be the last man she wanted. Well, except for maybe Watkins or any of his Fed League lackeys.

She swept the area with her eyes, determined to focus. She needed to find the clothing stand run by an elderly woman with her hair in a bun and dressed in a white Mayan-style loose top with blue and yellow embroidered flowers.

She and Juan rarely met in person, but each time it was at a different market and a different stall. The main thing was to pass on her information without looking suspicious. Someone else working for the
Feiru
Liaison office had previously confirmed that the elderly woman spoke no English—the language she and Juan usually used to communicate—so that wasn’t the issue. No, the concern was always that someone might be watching either Juan or herself. Juan was retired from the field, but like any agent who’d spent years undercover on different assignments, he’d gained a few enemies over the years who’d like nothing more than to kill him.

It was a risk anyone from the office took when they agreed to go undercover.

She spotted the elderly woman she was looking for a few stands down, so Sabrina stopped at a spice stall in front of her and pretended to browse. She couldn’t move to the clothing stall until she spotted Juan.

She made a token purchase of a small package of chili and moved to the next stall. That’s when she noticed Juan, dressed in jeans and a blue polo shirt, walking down the main walkway toward her location. They briefly made eye contact, and then she moved to the clothing stall first.

After holding up one of the Mayan-style embroidered blouses and asking about the price, Juan sidled up beside her. As he pretended to browse, she put down the shirt and picked up another. She held it high above her head to pretend to study the embroidery as she whispered, “There’s been a change in plans. I have an additional helper for the final play, but I want some officials there to arrest our target.”

“Who is this new helper?”

She shook her head. “No names. But he wants our target as much as we do.”

Juan gave her a sideways glance. “You want me to risk my people on your word?”

She put down the shirt and picked up another one. “Yes. I may have to move up the date for my plan, but since my contact at the restaurant is missing, I’ll need a new person to pass on the details.”

Juan picked up one of the small purses embroidered with flowers and paid for it. He turned and managed to whisper, “We’re looking for her. In the meantime, use the emergency phone number to contact me. If it’s too dangerous to call me to get details, even in code, I’ll find a way to give you the new contact’s location. I’ll start setting things up within the hour.”

She nodded and Juan left. Sabrina put the shirt down, picked up the first one she had admired, and then paid the woman with a smile before she headed to one of the nearby stalls that sold shoes. She wanted to run straight to her meet-up location with Jorge, but she wasn’t a rookie; she needed to keep shopping for at least another five or ten minutes to keep up appearances.

Still, things were looking good. While Yolanda might still be missing, Sabrina really had a shot at finishing this undercover stint in a day or two. She should feel happy at finally giving up this double-life of doing horrible things in order to help the greater good, but finishing the assignment meant that Jorge would leave and she’d never see him again.

She tried to convince herself that she didn’t want him to leave until she could persuade him that she’d known nothing about him being passed on to the Collector. But deep down, she wanted more. She wanted the familiarity and ease they’d once had.

In short, she wanted to have a friend again.

And not just any friend—one who also made her skin heat with a touch and who could probably make her weak in the knees with a single kiss.

Ridiculous
. Jorge would toss her to the wolves before he’d kiss her. Not that she could blame him. Her actions had killed his former feelings for her.

No, the best thing for her to do was to finish the job and send him on his way.

Sabrina moved to another stall and was about to buy some chopped fruit when she felt something slither around her bare ankle. She’d changed into the more civilian-looking clothes Jorge had provided before coming to the market—shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt—but when she glanced down, there was nothing. Yet it felt like a whisper of silk was brushing against her skin.

Careful to keep her face neutral, she tried to take a step, but something tugged at her ankle before changing directions. There was another tug, and Sabrina was forced to move her legs in the direction of the tugging or fall over. Another brush of silk on her other leg and she was soon being forced down the row of stands to the street. She tried not to look around, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

No, she only needed to get the attention of one person. She clenched her fingers into a fist and pointed her thumb downward—the signal that something was wrong.

She only hoped Jorge saw it.

Chapter Seven

While Jorge had been a prisoner under the Collector, his life had depended upon him learning to blend in, and today that skill was coming in handy at the crowded marketplace. His clothes were nondescript, and since he’d grown up near Merida during his childhood, even his accent wasn’t noteworthy.

Still, it took some effort to keep an eye on Sabrina without deliberately staring at her. It had been a long time since he’d seen that much of her smooth, tan skin.

He’d been an idiot to choose jean shorts and a tight-fitting purple t-shirt from her apartment while she’d been unconscious. He should’ve gone with the jeans or one of her long flowing skirts. Then maybe he could concentrate on more than how the denim hugged her fine ass or how her shorts displayed almost every inch of her long, golden tan legs.

His thoughts had started to venture into more dangerous territory—such as how it’d feel to grab that soft, bare ass with his hands—when Sabrina finally approached the clothing stand she’d described as the meeting place.

This was it. Time to watch for this Juan guy and see what happened.

As she pretended to browse, a man with light brown skin and short black hair approached the same stall. Once Sabrina lifted up a shirt over her head as if to inspect it, he could see her lips moving. He didn’t have supersensitive hearing or the ability to read lips, but from their interactions, he could tell they were at least somewhat familiar with each other. An average person wouldn’t notice, but their mutual shared glances told him that they’d done this before.

He did a sweep of the surrounding market stalls to check for anything suspicious. He started to wonder just how well Sabrina knew this Juan guy when Jorge’s eyes locked onto a face he’d seen once before. He didn’t know the woman’s name, but the long, red hair curling around her shoulders was unmistakable—the redhead was part of the Collector’s army of
Feiru
with latent abilities.

Fuck.
He wished he knew what sort of power she had, but he’d only glimpsed her once inside the Collector’s facility. For good reason, the coerced soldiers hadn’t been allowed to socialize.

He didn’t want to break eye contact with the redhead, but he needed to check to see if Sabrina’s meeting was over. Then he could start thinking of how to get her out of here, and preferably without the other woman following them.

He glanced back to the clothing stall and saw that Juan was already gone. Sabrina had just paid the woman running the stand when he noticed her foot move off to the side in an unnatural fashion.

He frowned when it happened again. Sabrina was hiding it well, but there was definitely something off about the way she walked—she lacked the slight sway of the hips and confidence to her strut. Instead, she was barely managing an uneven stroll. He glanced back to the redhead and saw her lips whispering something. He also noticed the motion of her thumb rubbing against her forefinger and middle finger. Those two actions told him what latent abilities the woman controlled.

The redhead was a Night-Weaver.

No matter how tight the Collector’s security, people tended to talk with one another during missions. Most of his assignments had been solo kidnapping attempts, but during one multi-person kidnapping stint, he’d been forced to work with a man who’d been a Night-Weaver. He’d learned that they could weave strands as strong as steel yet they felt as soft as silk and the Night-Weaver could direct the strands to whatever target they chose. The bitch of it was that you could only see the strands at nighttime, when they’d glow a faint white from the moonlight. During the day, they were invisible to the naked eye.

If that weren’t bad enough, there were probably other
Feiru
with latent abilities hiding in the market, waiting to take him down. If they managed to trap him and Sabrina in the midst of the crowded market, it could be game over. Even if he safely made it away from the prying eyes of humans, all the Collector’s people needed to do was shoot him with some kind of tranquilizer and he wouldn’t be able to use any of his shadow-shifting tricks to escape.

The Collector’s soldiers had to be here, targeting Sabrina, because of him. He’d been careful, but someone had seen him, and he needed to do something. He wasn’t about to let someone else be used against him again. Just the thought of Sabrina being tortured made him sick to his stomach. She might still be hiding some truths from him, but no one deserved the sort of abuse the Collector’s people would inflict on her.

First things first, he needed to break the Night-Weaver’s concentration long enough to get Sabrina to some of the nearby shadows. Once there, he could use one of his tricks to escape. But the question was: How?

He scanned the surroundings and saw a fruit stand off to his left. He quickly purchased a pineapple and moved closer toward Sabrina, careful to keep to the crowded edges of the vendor stands. By now, Sabrina was nearly to the street. If she reached it, a car could squeal up, snatch her, and take her anywhere. He needed to make his move before that could happen.

When Sabrina was less than five feet away from the sidewalk and the street, he lobbed the pineapple toward the Night-Weaver. A few people near him made some noise, but he ignored them. He watched closely because the second she stopped whispering and moving her fingers, he would make his move.

The Night-Weaver finally saw the incoming pineapple and stepped back right before it would’ve hit her.

With the redhead’s concentration broken, Jorge grabbed Sabrina’s upper arm and whispered, “We have to run. Come with me.”

He didn’t even wait for her to nod before he pulled her down one of the rows that split from the main walkway. He needed to reach the edge of the nearest building, preferably out of sight, where he could use the shadows to his advantage.

There was some shouting in the distance and Jorge knew the Collector’s people had stopped trying to be inconspicuous. They had shifted into “capture at any costs” mode.

He shouldered his way through the throngs of people and made another turn, never easing his grip on Sabrina’s arm. He could see a type of alley on the side of the building. At this time of day, it was all in shadow.

As soon as they reached the alley, Jorge shoved Sabrina up against the wall and caged her between his arms. “Whatever happens next, I need you to relax and not panic.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, I’m about to show you one of my tricks and get us the hell out of here.”

She glanced behind him and back. “Then hurry up. I can hear them coming.”

He didn’t have time to ponder the significance of her accepting his word so easily. Instead, he imagined the cells of his body breaking down, getting smaller and smaller. After two seconds, a familiar shock of pain flashed through his body and he became a dense shadow cloud.

Even though he no longer had eyes or ears, he was still aware of his surroundings. The Collector’s soldiers were nearly upon them. He was going to have to pull his shadow-transport trick faster than he’d ever done before if they were to get away.