Author's Note: hey, I am very pleased to see this chapter out before a month passed between postings. I swear, I'm getting worse and worse at this. I'm just glad that I still have a few reviewers. ^_^
Author's thanks at end.
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Even the biggest rooms grew small if one was forced to spend too much time in them. Tess paced back and forth, through the bedroom, small study, and bathroom that made up her suite. She was getting cabin fever – she'd read about that in Treasure Island – and it was interesting. She was starting to hate the sight of her room and everything in it. Not that there was much to see in the murky twilight. Her instruments had been confiscated, the power to her room cut, the windows covered and there was a man in the courtyard below watching to make sure she didn't creep close to any of them. She hadn't seen another person for five days, hadn't eaten in three, and hadn't made any sound at all in two.
What had she done wrong this time? The grown Tess couldn't remember. It could have been anything. A missed note at a private recital. Something less than perfect on a worksheet. Drawing attention to herself at the wrong time.
Invisible, she thought. I was invisible. And she was still invisible for the most part. Carlos saw a cousin who had something he needed. Neva saw a girl who'd been too terrified to talk to her own family without permission. The men in the compound saw the girl who was the bastard daughter of their deceased leader. The government saw an invalid that they could bully into doing their will. Sands . . . she wasn't sure what Sands saw in her. He was too complicated. A past threat, a current tool, and a semi-agreeable diversion. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps she was way off base.
In a fit of desperation, in an act to gain some sort of attention, young Tess picked a table up off a lamp and threw it against the front door to her room, an angry scream muffled in her chest. This was wrong. Why did they treat her like this? What had she done wrong?
The crash had been satisfying, but it wasn't enough. Twirling, the twelve year old ran to a nearby wall, one that was occupied by an enormous mirror. She was poised to bring it crashing down in a spill of silver glass splinters, but she caught sight of herself. It was something she avoided doing most of the time, but this time she couldn't, and she was horrified by her appearance. If Father saw her like this, she'd pay for it dearly. Her hair was a wild bush around her head, her clothes hanging loosely off her body, her eyes wide and desperate in a small face . . . and as blue as the sky outside must be. "No," she whispered at those eyes. "I never asked for you either."
The disapproving image of her father appeared in the mirror over her own reflection. The only thing his likeness didn't obscure were those eyes. "You're in my house now, Teresa Adame. My house. My rules. You will listen, or you will suffer. That is how it's always been, that's how it will always be . . . ."
As he spoke, the reflection shifted, and mercifully the eyes changed. But despite the new face, and the new eyes, the voice was the same.
". . . listen or risk your life. I am the one in control. I call the shots. I throw shapes and set them up . . . or if they don't listen, I watch them fall. And if you ignore me, I'll leave you here to rot, niña. I'll leave without a second glance."
"But I gave you your eyes," she whispered in her defense. "I saved you, helped you, returned you to your home."
"No," Sands disputed. "You gave me Tess. And I'll use you as I see fit, in the field or in my bed. You owe me. You will listen to me. You will obey me." He frown at her. "I don't hear you agreeing with me, azúcar." Sugar.
What choice did she have? "I will listen. I will obey," she whispered. And with that, the dream ended.
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She woke with a start, unable to breathe. There was a gloved hand over her mouth and nose, suffocating her. She struggled to free herself, but sleep and a lack of air fogged her mind and her hands were soon caught. Unable to do anything, she tossed her head, feeling the room go black. It was too soon. She'd just gone through this, she didn't want to do it again.
The hand shifted, and she found she could breathe through her nose, and while this wasn't enough to satisfy the demands of her body, it was enough to keep her alive and to help her mind clear. And once she could think straight again, she realized that someone was talking to her in a voice quiet enough to be drowned out by the rustling of bedclothes.
"Just calm yourself, sugarbutt. The last thing I need is for you to scream and bring the guards outside your door in here. That would definitely crash the little party I'm trying to plan.
Sands. Tess collapsed into the bed, relief soon swept from her veins by anger and irritation. What the hell is he doing here? If he's caught he'll end up dead, and possibly me as well. But irritated though she was, she couldn't help being a tiny bit glad that he was here. He was a constant in a world of ever-changing variables, and she appreciated that more than she'd imaged a few weeks ago.
Why don't you just admit that you're hot for him, and pull him into your bed. It's not your childhood bed, but it's good enough.
Bite me, she told her voice impatiently. She didn't need him. She couldn't let herself need him. Not here. It was too dangerous here.
Sands noticed when Tess relaxed under his hands. "Good girl. Now, don't say anything when I let you go. Don't even get up. I need to get a chip out of your computer and install a few things, and then I'll be out of here. But I'd prefer it if your guards didn't hear two sets of footsteps." His mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath stirring the loose hairs against her neck. "Savvy?"
She nodded, and he let go of her. But when he turned to get to work, she grabbed his arm.
Sands frowned, and turned back to Tess, anticipating some sort of silent
female drama, but he let her pull him down so she could whisper in his
ear. "What are you installing?"
He shook his head, then
mimed making a list, then pointed at her laptop. She nodded, understanding that he'd sent an
untraceable e-mail to her private account.
The account had been set up by some of the best in the business so that
if someone tried to open it without the right password, every message would
immediately be erased and the part of the hard drive that back-ups were
normally stored on would be locked.
Lost in these thoughts, several seconds passed before Sands cocked an eyebrow at her, looking down at the hand on his arm. I need to get to work and get out of here, he was telling her.
Reluctantly she let him go, watching him as he moved around the room. In his dark clothes, he melted into the shadows. As he worked, she found herself reminded of the fantasy that'd over taken her as she'd watched him – then a black-clad stranger, dying and fighting in the streets . . . She could have sworn he was one of the ancient Olmec shamans, a man who could change into a jaguar at will; a human, but more cat than man. The ease which he now moved in the shadows did nothing to dispel that imagery, neither did the fact that he'd snuck into the compound and her room without one of the many guards noticing. She'd never seen a man who had such natural grace, and that this man did, only added to his allure. His forbidden allure. She had to remember that, and let the past be the past.
Sands was acutely aware of her eyes on him, and he cursed. He didn't even know why he was here. He shouldn't be. He was risking more than could be ventured at this point in the game. He should still be concentrating on setting up his pawns to support his queen, not playing the errant knight. The best way for him to keep her from being captured was to stay a long way away from her. And that it would keep him from being captured as well went without saying.
But here he was, in her bedroom, tinkering and puttering with things that didn't need tinkering or puttering. Installing redundant fail-safes and backups. Performing a job he could have very well given to the "cleaning woman" they'd placed within the compound. And why? To reassure himself that Tess was safe. Whole in mind and body. And as he thought that, he stopped cursing Tess, and started cursing himself for being weak. Tess wasn't his to protect. He didn't want her to be his responsibility. It was too much. She was too fragile. She was good for an occasion diversion, but anything past that was foolish.
Finished, Sands turned to leave. Tess saw that he was gathering his empty bag and getting ready to leave, and her hand twitched, catching his attention. She met his eyes, not saying a word, relieved and tense as he stayed away from her. It's best, she told herself, trying to convince herself of the truth of that statement. And failing miserably. She wanted him to hold her and let her forget about situation she found herself in. It was a dangerous need, but no more dangerous than letting herself need him at all. No more dangerous than they night they'd spent together in San Antonio.
Sands saw her struggle in her eyes, even across the darkened room, and he hated. He hated her for falling so easily, and himself for the need to make her fall. She might not realize it – because if she did, she'd be fighting tooth and nail, not staring at him with such vulnerability – but she was in the palm of his hand. She was perfectly situated for him to manipulate her . . . This time he cursed under his breath. Tess was perfectly aware of his penchant for manipulation. If he was right . . . .
Stalking silently across the room, Sands came over to Tessa's bed and grabbed her chin, making her look in his eyes. Now that he was closer, he could read the expression that had caused him so much unease, and he resented her for it. And in his resentment, he did what he could to make her hurt, because in her eyes he'd seen that even though he was whole and independent, even though he no longer needed her aid, she was still willing to give everything she had to help him. Even if that meant letting him manipulate him . . which wasn't manipulation at all.
Tess shrunk against the bed as Sands' mouth took her lips in an angry kiss. The contact was brutal and demanding, but her body responded, and that's what scared her. That she could still find herself softening to man that could use passion and anger against her. Like her father.
Struggling now, she managed to bring her arms up and push Sands away. Panting, she stared at him, saw how he was tensed, as if waiting for her to cry out and alert the house to the intruder in her room, but she couldn't. She couldn't turn on a patient like that. He might be able to see again, but he wasn't healed. He was still wounded, and it was still the fault of her family, and still hers by default.
"The same blood flows in my veins. The same weakness," she warned him, certain that by some trait that had been spread to her through her blood, she'd betray and hurt him. "Convinced myself, I seek not to convince." Turning her head away, she softly whispered, "Go. Some traits breed true no matter how diluted the blood," she mocked him with his own words. "I don't want to kill you, but . . . but what if I'm not able to help it?"
There was silence for a long time. Long enough that she became curious.
By the time she looked back, he was gone.
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Carlos rarely slept these days. Most of his nights were spent planning and strategizing how to squash various rebellions within his ranks. Tonight his time was being spent making arguments to convince Tess to join with him. Now that he had her, he had to get to the money that was held in her name. With that money, he could pay his increasingly belligerent workers and finally get his plans for the takeover of the territory north of Guadalajara. He was getting sick of Culíacan and the house here. It was too moist so close to the coast. Too hot. He wanted to move back to his house in the Zacatecas province, where the mountains provided relief from the heat in the winter. It was dry and hot in the summer, but that's why he'd kept the Culíacan house . . . to avoid that.
The house outside of Guadalupe was less well known. It would be a place to find relief from the pressure of maintaining the cartel, a place where planning a drug-oriented coup would be safer. Besides, he'd seen the look on Tessa's face over dinner – she hated it here.
Going to his window, he looked out over the nighttime courtyard. To his surprise, there was a light shining on the balcony of Tessa's room. When she'd retired earlier that evening, he assumed she'd sleep the night through. She hadn't just looked tired – exhaustion had weighed down her words as well. But if she was up, perhaps this was a good time to talk to her.
He went to the door of his study and left, dismissing the bodyguards who started to follow him. He hated that they were necessary, but was practical enough not to do away with them altogether.
The walk across the compound took some time since Carlos decided to take the outdoor second floor walkway instead of cutting across the courtyard. The night was pleasant, and he saw no reason to hurry on his way. Tess would still be in her room when he got there, and if she was still awake, they'd talk. If not, that was fine as well.
A few minutes later he was standing in front of Tessa's door. He nodded to the guards he'd had placed there – both to ensure her safety, and to make sure she wouldn't bolt in the middle of the night – and knocked on her door.
"Come in." She didn't sound upset to be interrupted, but she didn't sound as if she relished the thought of company either. Not that this was going to stop him.
Opening the door, Carlos stepped into the room, looking around in the dark for Tess. There was a single light turned on by her bed, but it wasn't enough to chase away all the shadows. It was enough to see that Tess wasn't in the room. Walking through the cool room, he made his way to the balcony, where Tess was wrapped in a blanket and sitting in an Adirondack chair.
"Can't sleep," she murmured, not bothering to look up. She knew who it was. Only two people wanted to see her these days, and Sands had just left.
"Why not?" He took a seat on the railing across from her.
"Night has patterns that can be read,/Less by the living than by the dead," she replied cryptically. She rubbed her face with both hands, then said in a normal voice, "Just restless, I suppose. This isn't exactly what I thought it would be."
"What do you mean?"
Tess shrugged. "Nothing. Everything. It's harder than I thought it would be, and easier than I thought it would be. I don't know what I mean . . . I just know that things weren't supposed to be like this."
What are you talking about, Teresa? Coming home or Sands? Because I can assure you that men like Sands are always this difficult, and you know what they say . . . only birds can go back to the nest.
Shaking her head slowly, Tess tried to pull her scattered mind together. Sands' visit had greatly disturbed her – not that she quite knew why – and scatterbrained was not a good mindset to be in when talking to someone who was your enemy by default. "I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time really waking up, I suppose. Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Carlos examined his cousin, sure that something other than sleep was the cause of her restlessness. "I saw your light on and was a bit surprised. I thought you might sleep better if you had someone to talk to."
Tess smiled at that, a wry smile full of self-condemnation. "Remember that time I broke my arm, falling off that horse?"
It was Carlos' turn to smile wryly. "Yes. It was the straw that broke Uncle's back. Not that military school wasn't worth making sure you saw Guevera."
The smile on Tessa's face faded. "I've fallen off another horse, primo. And I'm broken inside . . . but I don't think you can help me this time."
How much are you going to tell him, Teresa? Are you going to let him know that your mind is held together with chewing gum and hope?
"What happened? A man break you heart? Do I need to send out a hit man?"
She laughed dryly. "Yes. A man broke my heart. But he's been dead for over a year now. And I've been broken almost as long as you've known me. I just thought . . . I thought that perhaps I was getting better. But I come back here and I'm the lost five year old who doesn't understand why her father just smacked her." She gave her cousin a sad smile, then looked back out over the night-darkened landscape. "I thought I could come back here, but it's hard."
You idiot! You're letting him in. You've already let Sands in! You can't afford to let another in. It'll destroy you. Your loyalties are too wide spread. Tell him to leave or hand over Sands. For the sake of your own sanity.
No.
Carlos reached over and took Tessa's hand. "As soon as I get business wrapped up here, I promise I'll take you away from all this. We'll go to my home in Zacatecas."
This was one of the opening she was supposed to be looking for. And she needed to take it, even if she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. "And then what, Carlos? What am I going to do? Sit around, a pretty decoration? I've gotten used to being of some worth, having something to do with my time other than study and the quiet occupation of staying out of everyone' way."
"Join us, Tessa. Uncle had a dream of all of us – of you, me, Neva, and Ajedrez – working together. He knew we would be unstoppable. And while I don't deny that he went about things the wrong way, he was right." Seeing that he had her close to folding, Carlos moved to sit at the end of her chair, one of her hands now wrapped in both of his. "I know we're not technically related, but you have always been a cousin to me. Without you, I wouldn't have passed biology. I needed you. I still need you. Whether we like it or not, you were taught and developed to fulfill a role, and currently, I'm without a chief physician. And that's what I need from you. Even more than the bank accounts I'm sure you're aware of. I need you at my side, giving me advice along with Neva."
Who am I to give advice? I can't even follow my own. "Neva doesn't like me. She's never liked me. And she won't like that I'm staying."
"Neva will get over it. She knows we need you." Carlos pressed his advantage while he could. "Join us, Teresa, and I promise I will have you out of here by the end of the week. I promise you whatever medical equipment you want. Clothes, jewels . . . whatever you want, I can give it to you."
What's your price, Tessa? At what price are you going to let him buy your soul? Your conscience? Your sanity?
"I've never wanted anything more than family, Carlos. Nothing more than acceptance." Her voice was silent, disgusted at what Tess was doing. "Everything else in life I can get for myself. Everything else I've been given. Familia is the only thing that's ever been denied me."
Carlos was quiet for a moment. He was divided about how to proceed. Part of him said he was using Tess, but another part – a voice that had been long quieted by the absence of hope that Tessa would ever be back – told him that he could give her what she wanted. "You are family, prima. I've never denied that, and I'm not going to deny it now."
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Ten miles away, Sands was listening in on the conversation over a radio. There were other people in the room – some delivering reports, some picking up surveillance equipment or developing film, some making a transcript of the conversation he was currently listening to – but they all faded into the background. He was busy listening to the conversation between cousins . . . and trying to convince himself that he wasn't jealous. She was simply doing her job – taking advantage of her opening to get into the cartel's hierarchy.
And after all, why should I be jealous of a woman who doesn't even know what being in her right mind is? So she's a good lay, and she helped me out in the past. Things change. But he knew there was more to it than that. After all the hell they'd gone through the year before, after the hell his employers were putting her through . . . he'd though he'd at least had her loyalty. And either she was a damn good actress, or she was struggling with her loyalties out there. And that was dangerous.
You're still not telling yourself the whole truth, Sheldon.
The truth is dangerous. Be content with what I've admitted.
You've got to kill her or claim her. There's not going to be a medium where she's concerned. You've invested too much in her. Too much trust, too many thoughts, too much lust . . . Just too much, period.
"I've never wanted anything more than family, Carlos. Nothing more than acceptance. Everything else in life I can get for myself. Everything else I've been given. Familia is the only thing that's ever been denied me."
There was silence. As much as he tried not to, Sands imagined the close quarters the two cousins who weren't cousins would be in.
"You are family, prima. I've never denied that, and I'm not going to deny it now."
Sands' hackles rose at the tone in the man's voice. What the hell? Is he staking a claim to her, or trying to get to her bank accounts?
Why does it matter? You shouldn't care either way. But then again, you risked your neck just to see her tonight.
His conscience was right. He shouldn't care. Or if he did care, it should be because he was still trying to get his revenge on the irritating woman. He cared too much, and he'd trusted too much, and she'd burned him. She'd left. That's why I'm upset. I need her to be dependent on me, so that when I eventually ditch her, she'll feel as betrayed as I did. That's the only reason I don't like this guy – he's a threat to that dependence.
It made sense.
So why did it sound so empty?
Sands turned his attention back to the two cousins as he tried to put the whole matter out of his mind.
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"You are family, prima. I've never denied that, and I'm not going to deny it now."
Tess stared at her cousin, wondering if he was telling her the truth. And if he was, could she accept it? The logical answer was of course not. She couldn't belong if she was simply going to hand her family over to the authorities. Because if she did belong, she wouldn't be able to do it. And if she couldn't do it, then she'd loose the kids and her freedom. So she shied away from actually accepting his offer.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked instead.
"Well, if you're going to be the head physician for the cartel, I'll need you to draw up a list of supplies and people you need. And if you want to truly help make us strong again, I need you to transfer the off-shore accounts to me. Or at least give me power of attorney over them."
Tess nodded, feeling guilty for the thousands of lives she was affecting just to bring down a select group of people. "We'll go the bank in the morning," she whispered. "Right now I just want to be alone."
Carlos nodded, content that he finally had her firmly in his control. "I will see you at breakfast, querida. Sleep well." He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss just above her forehead.
Tess waited in
silence as he left. When she heard the
door shut behind him, she slumped in her chair.
"I hope you heard that," she muttered to whoever was at the other end of
the microphone in her necklace.
Shaking her head, she got up and went
back into her bedroom, climbing under the covers. She was suddenly feeling exhausted and extremely
maudlin. Wanting to do nothing more than
to sleep, she arranged her pillows more comfortably and settled against them,
the blankets pulled up to her chin. But
even as her eyes started drifting shut under the weight of her fatigue, her
mind asked one last impertinent question.
If you're wearing a bugged necklace, and glasses that have tiny video cameras in them, then why the hell did Sands feel the need to but up surveillance equipment in your room?
Tess had no way of knowing that Sands had asked himself the same thing.
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Quotes: Tolkien, LotR; Edgar Allen Poe; and Dean Koontz, The Book of Counted Sorrows.
Author's Thanks: this time around many thanks go to . . . .
dreamshadow13 (I'm trying to update, update, update, but it's hard because I have to build a lot of character interaction and such in here. Carlos is giving me a hard time, because I'm trying to built this cartel kingpin that is ruthless, and underhanded, etc., but who's still human and a bit likeable. But I think I'm getting into the swing of things.); C.J. Davis (Oh, he fell a long time ago, but he's a stubborn b*****d, and is fighting it tooth and nail. And Tess is once again struggling to keep her head above water. It's fun to write her internal conflicts. I just hope I'm not getting too repetitive.); CaptainJackSparrowsGirl (One of these days indeed. I want it to be a long time coming, but he's making it difficult for me.); Merrie (Keeping up? I don't know about that. We're writing 20+ page chapters for that one in a matter of days. It took three weeks to write eight pages of this. Of course, that's not counting the two chapters of FS I also wrote. I like Carlos too. I've definitely got plans for that guy.); Cayenne Pepper Powder (true romance? I don't know about that. Romance as far as they're capable? Perhaps. Eventually. Like in the last chapter or something. : P); Isola (wow! I'm glad to hear from you again. I'm glad you find it so entertaining. I work hard to make it so, and I'm glad it's working.); nimwin (Yes. Carlos is complex. I want him that way. I want him multidimensional, and faceted, and contradictory. Makes things ever so much more interesting.); normal human being (did I really? I'm sure I didn't mean it. I do so love my cliffies. } ) I just got really confused because I got a sense of dejá vu reading your review. I don't know why. But yes, I can't imagine Tess immediately knowing how to deal with this. She'd be able to slip into her emotionless mask, but it'd be so obvious that everyone would notice. And that she's real is a really nice complement, but I struggle to keep all my characters that way. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don't. It's nice to know that I did this time.); amberlin (glad I've gotten you and your sister hooked. ^_^); Gia_Jolieuk (engaging. That's a very nice word. I'm glad you saw fit to use it for me. I hope you enjoy this bit as much as the rest.); Dreamgirl21147 (lol. Wow. I think you're my first reviewer who's ever tried rehab. Some of the others that needed it aren't reviewing so much anymore, so perhaps that's where they are.); Scarlett Burns (Yeah, I can't wait to see the effect either. All I know is I'm preparing to tear the poor woman in two . . . and it's fun. } ) And yes, Sands is very sexy. You're not the only one with issues.)
