“Do you one better. I’ll go. Figure it’s about time I get to know your future wife.” Satan flashed him a grin.
Demon blew out a long breath. “Not going there yet. One thing at a time. Later.”
Sister Helen hit him over the head with a pot the second he walked through the doorway and into what served as some sort of pantry.
He had to wrestle the nun into submission and came within spitting distance of serious damage to his stones before relieving her of a wooden rolling pin.
Once he had her hands locked above her head and her legs pinned between his knees, he growled, “Simmer down.”
“Pig. Bastard. Let me go.” She spat the words.
“You need to listen to me. Jacinta needs you.”
The woman halted her furious struggling and squirming on a dime. “She’s okay?”
“No injuries. I’m betting once the shock wears off, she’s going to fall apart. That little bomb Nunez dropped will take some time to digest.” He studied the nun’s thin face, her pale complexion, and the tendrils of light hair peeking out from the habit concealing her hair. Her Irish-accented Portuguese clearly spoke of her heritage. How in hell had an Irish woman ended up a FARC guerilla?
“She won’t.”
Demon didn’t agree with the nun, but now wasn’t the time for that discussion. “Can I let you up now without risking a concussion?”
Sister Helen nodded. “Where is she?”
“In a boat by the jetty.” Demon freed her wrists and stood.
“She shouldn’t be alone.” The nun adjusted her veil and habit and dusted her hands before lurching to her feet.
“She isn’t, and I want her out of here pronto. So we need to do this fast.”
“Who are you?” Sister Helen folded her arms and met his stare.
“The man who’s going to end Pedro’s time on this earth. Father Lawson rescued me from Pedro decades ago. I believe you know Father Lawson well.”
The belligerence and wariness evaporated from the nun’s stance. She squinted at him, her hazel eyes unfathomable, but the spray of freckles dotting her nose paled.
“Take off your shirt.”
Not many people managed to shock him, but this wiry nun had him reeling. “My shirt?”
“I’ve learned the hard way not to trust a man’s word. If you are that boy, your back will prove it. Show me.”
He tugged the T-shirt over his head and turned around.
“I’m satisfied. You are he. The boy who became a Navy SEAL. What do you want?”
“I need to know what Pedro had planned. Why he brought all of you here.”
She shrugged. “Revenge. Greed. Insanity. Mostly because before he killed Rosa, all his money vanished.”
Demon blinked. “She stole his money? How? Why?”
“Because he found out about Jacinta and had started searching for her. I told Rosa not to do it. Warned her what would happen. She wouldn’t listen. She figured a fortune would keep Jacinta safe.”
“This is going to have to wait. Jacinta needs to hear it too. It’ll take me a couple of hours at least to wrap this up. Can you keep Jacinta at bay for that long?” He had no choice but to trust the nun could, so the question was moot and he knew it.
“Before I agree to anything, you need to answer three questions.” She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“Fire.” Demon aped her stance.
“How did she end up in your company?”
Demon recounted their first meeting.
She shook her head. “I should’ve listened to my gut, but Emilio and Elvira had lived in Europe for so long that I figured it was safe to send Jacinta to the boarding school. Elvira poisoned that boy, and he has too much of his father in him. He’s as insane as Pedro. He should be institutionalized.”
“You won’t have to worry about Emilio anymore. Second question?”
She shot him a hard stare and then nodded. “Thank you. Jacinta needs to be free to finally live, and she wouldn’t be safe with Emilio walking this world.”
Demon raised a brow but kept his trap shut. Sister Helen not only knew what would happen to Emilio and Pedro, she also approved. Completely. Interesting.
“Are your intentions honorable?”
His jaw dropped. His palms dampened. How to answer that one? “Depends on your definition. Have you ever heard that saying that if you love something, set it free; if it comes back to you—”
“I’ve heard it. You’ll do.”
Demon took a step back. The damned woman gave him the heebie-jeebies. He had a hunch she never lost a battle or an argument. All of a sudden, he couldn’t wait to get out of her presence. “Third question?”
“Where’s Mother Superior? And let me warn you that if you’ve wrecked her nerves, you will be doing penance for a good, long time.”
“I’ll locate her pronto. We done?”
“For now. I’ll go with you.” She squared her shoulders and elbowed past him.
He clenched his jaw and followed her into the narrow hallway.
“You should know Father Lawson is dead. Pedro discovered that he’d lied about the baby.”
Demon stumbled and had to lengthen his stride to stay at her side. “When did this happen?”
“After Pedro killed Rosa, he had the grave where we’d supposedly buried the baby dug up. We’d buried a mongoose. Pedro killed him before he captured me and Mother Superior.”
Demon hadn’t seen Father Lawson in years, but it dawned on him at that moment why the nun’s features seemed so familiar. “He was your brother.”
She nodded, and the set of her mouth changed. “Pedro’s end should not be easy.”
“It won’t be.”
They walked through the kitchen and picked their way across the catastrophic dining room without encountering anyone.
As they entered the foyer, an armed guard approached him. Demon raised a brow. “Problem?”
“The other nun keeps fainting. We took her outside. Satan’s with her.”
“I was afraid of this. It’s going to take hours to get her calmed down. And we’ve the long journey back to the school ahead of us. Where’re you sending us? And how are we journeying?”
A tepid evening gust swept the bay. Sister Helen’s habit flapped to one side.
“By boat. To La Abatapo, a resort on a tributary.” Demon eyed the scene on the jetty. The men not on guard duty had set up temporary lighting. He glimpsed Xavier. Jacinta sat beside him facing the river. She still had the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“We cannot stay there long. We found Father Lawson’s body two days ago, and I evacuated the cloister. Mother Superior refused to leave until she had freed her doves. That’s how Pedro captured us. The woman is more stubborn than our mule.”
Demon shot a glance at the nun whose set expression shouted
stubborn
. If she spoke the truth, Demon doubted he could predict the winner of a stubborn competition between Jacinta, Sister Helen, and Mother Superior.
He turned back to the soldier. “Carry Mother Superior to the LCAC Xavier’s piloting. I’ll leave you here, Sister Helen. The rest of us will be back by dawn.” Demon hesitated, then added, “I’m sorry for your loss. Father Lawson was one of the good ones.”
“I know.” She met his gaze, and her eyes glistened.
Demon spun around, embarrassed on behalf of the nun who obviously hated to show any soft emotion. One of the men standing guard at the foot of the stairs gave him directions to the rooms where Emilio and Pedro were being held.
Adjacent rooms.
Symbolic and a typical Satan move. One would hear the other die. Both would pay.
In the end, he didn’t have the boiling anger to draw out either man’s death. Revenge tasted bitter and released none of his repressed rage. Demon washed up at an outside sink but knew from experience that the stench of blood would fill his nose for some time.
He wanted nothing more than to be inside Jacinta.
Satan stood on the first plank of the jetty, bare-chested, arms folded, and spoiling for a tussle. Exactly what Demon needed. He shed his shirt.
A good thirty minutes later, they called a draw.
“It’s been a long time since you and I sparred.” Satan sported a swollen eye, and the lip that Sister Helen had battered was now split. He swiped the perspiration coating his ribs with his T-shirt.
“I forgot about that right uppercut.” Demon fingered his aching jaw.
“Feel any better?” Satan picked up his discarded weapons.
“Not much. Let’s head out. Where’d you find five fucking LCACs?”
“Fredo is one amazing, bad-ass dude. Wouldn’t leave Lucia’s side and wanted to make sure that we got Nunez ASAP.”
“You could’ve radioed in the info.”
Demon and Satan ambled down the jetty. The lone raft left bobbed as an early morning gust rocketed across the river.
“We were on our way back to the resort when one of the men I’d left guarding Jacinta called with the news that you’d both been taken. You’re slipping in your old age.” Satan hopped into the boat.
Demon untied the rope mooring the raft and jumped in. “I made it back early from the cloister, checked on Jacinta, talked to the men, and decided to join the patrol. Hadn’t had anything to eat. Went to the bar and ordered a juice and a sandwich. The waitress there must’ve heard my name, put two and two together, and figured out who I was. Jose put a price on the Demon’s Seed head a couple of days back. Sat outside to eat, and next thing I know, I’m hog-tied in a boat and heading downriver. Food must have been drugged.”
The sun peeked over the horizon when they turned into the narrow tributary leading to La Abatapo. Shadows from the trees lining the river slivered and slipped long narrow leaf blades over the muddied waters.
“The nun tell you much?”
“Not as much as she knows.” Demon related what he’d learned from Sister Helen. “I want Lucifer to do a complete backgrounder on the woman.”
“Why?” Satan geared down the engine when the resort’s jetty came into view in the distance.
“Curiosity. She’s a tough woman, and she did right with Jacinta. I figure she’s going to want to see Sister Helen often.” No way Demon intended to give Satan any ribbing ammunition. If he even suspected how blasted scared Demon was to pop the question, there’d be no stopping him. And then the whole squad would find out. Not going to happen. In truth, he wanted the nun on his side before he asked Jacinta to marry him.
They landed, moored, and headed up to the hotel.
Was Jacinta asleep? Had her shock abated? What had Sister Helen told her? How the heck would she handle Pedro being her father? What it must have done to Rosa—being forced into an incestuous relationship. She must have been consumed by self-hatred toward the end.
He knew the emotion from the inside out. If he’d succumbed to the self-destructive drive fueled by Pedro’s abuse, Pedro would’ve won. That realization had finally turned him around. Denying Pedro victory and the discipline of the navy and then the dogged determination to become a SEAL had saved his sorry ass.
What could he do to help her through the coming months? Keep her barefoot and pregnant? The notion held an overwhelming appeal. Setting her free to experience the world held none, not an iota. But it was the honorable course of action. Fucked if he did, fucked if he didn’t. Definitely not a win-win situation.
Demon and Satan parted ways in the lobby. He went straight to the front desk and inquired about the nuns. Both Sister Helen and Mother Superior shared a room on the second floor. The resort’s on-call doctor had paid them a visit and, according to the manager, had declared both healthy.
Further questioning offered one telling tidbit. The waitress who had worked the bar and given him the drugged sandwich had not turned up for her shift. One less issue to deal with. He couldn’t put off facing Jacinta any longer. Footsteps leadened by the dread of the unknown, he trudged down the hallway, inserted the key into the lock, and entered the room.
A strong predusk breeze lifted the parted transparent drapes. He glimpsed her spiky hair dusting the back of the wicker chair that faced the far tree line. Was she thinking about Pedro? Rosa? Him?
He shut the door quietly and treaded lightly to the balcony, but she must’ve sensed his presence for she stood, turned around, and he wanted to swallow her whole. She didn’t have bloodshot eyes and wore the pink glow of just-scrubbed skin on her face. He’d always dated women who wouldn’t dream of setting foot outside without a full makeup job. The idea of Jacinta piling all that crap on her beautiful skin proved abhorrent.
As always, his dick reacted to the sight of her, the smell of her, going rigid and twitching hopefully.
“Are you okay?” She walked right to him, pressed her cheek to his sweaty shirt, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Craning her neck, she met his gaze, those turquoise irises a halo around her dark pupils. Pupils no longer dilated, her gaze clear and bright. “I’ve been sitting here praying for you to return safely to me.”
“How’re you holding up?” He caressed her back, searching for any tenseness, and studied her intently, checking for any other signs of shock. Capturing her wrist, he glanced down at her and then kissed each fingertip, relieved to find them warm and not icy. No sign of shock.
“I’ve been counting my blessings as ordered by Sister Helen.”
“And Sister Helen is…?”
“Comforting Mother Superior. She has a horror of violence of any sort. A result of her childhood on the streets of São Paolo. I always found it ironic that the only one who can comfort her is Sister Helen.”
“Your guerilla nun mentor is formidable.”
“She told me about Father Lawson. Him being her brother and his death. Does my uncle still live?”
Chapter Fourteen
Jacinta knew the answer before Demon spoke.
“There were a few casualties. Pedro and Emilio were two of them. So were Hugo and Brio.” He met her stare without blinking.
“The world is a better place. Sister Helen will never admit this, but she will be grateful to you for avenging her brother. She may have devoted the rest of her life to God, but in her heart she will always be a rebel.” Jacinta cupped his jaw and smiled when her fingertips grazed the soft stubble.
“What blessings have you been counting?” He kissed her palm.
“Many. The top of the list is that you love me.” It had taken a half dozen armed men, two with their guns pointed right at his head, before he uttered the words, but never would she forget that moment.