Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long (I seem to be apologizing a lot lately), but this first scene was really awkward to write. But once I took into consideration that my leads would be awkward around each other too, thing came together really fast. In fact, I think I wrote 9 ½ of these 11 pages today! (That makes me happy.) Please, review and let me know how you think things are developing. Am I going too fast, too slow, not developing at all? I'd like to know what you all think.
Any quotes that you want to send in are always appreciated.
Author's thanks at the end.
Letting out a shaky sigh, Sands rolled over and stared at the ceiling, wondering what he'd just done. Tess laid next to him, eyes closed and chest still rising and falling rapidly. Fury was no longer rolling off her in waves, but he wasn't so sure that this was an improvement. Especially if he considered what had prompted this little rendezvous.
Sands sat up on the bed, making Tess moan. She couldn't believe herself. She couldn't believe that she'd let herself sleep with him again – especially after that fight. What had happened to the woman who was so in control of herself, who was able to put her emotions away in little square boxes? Who could go for weeks and months on end without feeling anything stronger than irritation? She'd been like that when she'd first met Sands, and he'd certainly not grown any less prickly or easier to approach. So what had happened?
You got used to being touched, Teresa. It's the fault of those brats you took in. Their grimy hands and sticky fingers have made you sentimental.
The only response Tessa could work up was, Don't call them brats. There was truth in the voice's suggestion though; she had gotten used to hugs from small arms, and to 'grimy hands' pulling at her for attention. To young voices calling out at all times, sometimes for her, sometimes just to be heard. But why did she try to replace such pleasant interactions with Sands? It just didn't make sense.
Sands heard Tessa's groan, and smiled. Not that he was amused – on the contrary, he was pissed at himself for displaying any sort of weakness when it came to this woman.
Unknowingly, his thoughts ran in a parallel to hers as he pulled on his pants and reached for his cigarettes. What had happened to his control? Where had this damned sentimentality come from? Since when had his focused shifted from his job to playing little power games with the woman in his bed? How had he been so able to ignore Tess when they'd been cooped up in the same house, and now he had a hard time getting her out of his mind?
And like Tess, he didn't have any answers. So he settled on finding some answers to other questions, but before he could ask, Tessa spoke.
"The gingham dog and the calico cat/Side by side on the table sat;/'Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!)/Nor one nor t'other had slept a wink!/The gingham dog went 'Bow-wow-wow!'/And the calico cat replied 'Me-ow!'/The air was littered, an hour or so,/With bits of gingham and calico,/But the gingham dog and the calico cat/Wallowed this way and tumbled that,/Employing every tooth and claw/In the awfullest way you ever saw- /And oh! how the gingham and calico flew!/Next morning where the two had sat/They found no trace of dog or cat;/And some folks think unto this day/That burglars stole the pair away!/But the truth about the cat and pup/Is this: they ate each other up!"
Sands turned to her, shaking his head when he saw that she'd laid one arm over her eyes. She never ceased to amaze him with her seemingly endless supply of what most people would consider useless quotes, nor with the way she was able to relate them to situations so that she almost seemed to be speaking sense.
"Surely things couldn't have been that bad," he said mildly, lighting up.
"Depends on which part of this delightful afternoon you're talking about," she groused, still not uncovering her eyes.
"Which part are you talking about?"
"I'm not telling." With a deep sigh, Tess sat up, clutching the blankets around her, not looking at Sands.
Several minutes of silence went by before Sands asked what he'd been meaning to before she'd gotten the jump on him. "What did you want, niña?"
Tessa's eyes darted to him, although her face didn't turn at all. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"Why are you here?"
"Because you told me to come here." She didn't want to explain just how deep her anger at him had been. How deep it still is, she tried to convince herself.
"Carlos' villa is bugged, niña. We could hear your mutterings. I know you were planning to track me down eventually. What was it you wanted?"
To see him.
That's ridiculous.
Since when does truth have to make sense?
Tess didn't have an answer for that. "I wanted some news of my family," she said quietly. "I worry about them."
The words impacted Sands with an dull comprehension. She had a family, one that she worried about even when she knew they were being watched over by his employers. Of course, the fact that those same men had also threatened to deport the kids probably wasn't much of a reassurance. But all the same, she was worried about a small family that wasn't her own.
Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, he remembered thinking. Tess didn't want any of this life. He found it engaging, physically demanding, challenging . . . she saw it as duty at best and a torment at worst. And he'd dragged her into it.
Sands turned his back as Tess got out of bed, reaching for her clothes. He gave her the privacy of getting dressed without his eyes on her, even if it was a false privacy. Just because he couldn't see her now didn't mean he couldn't remember what he naked body looked like.
Snubbing out his cigarette and lighting a new one, he wondered just how much of all this was his responsibility. How much had he coerced Tess into doing. If he had tried, could he have convinced Colton and Strauss that Tess didn't know enough to be any use? Other than being in the house itself, she certainly wasn't doing much to get any information.
He knew his orders of course. Tess had to start digging. It was dangerous work even for someone used to going undercover, and he doubted that Tess had ever done any more digging than what went on in an autopsy bay. He'd argued against it by saying it was too much of a risk, that the operation could roll up. But the Company needed information and Tess was working for them, so that was the end of the discussion.
Small shuffling noises and soft clunks came from behind him. He turned to find Tess cleaning: folding his clothes, dusting with Kleenex, straightening things on his dresser. She was nervous.
Does she really deserve revenge? he wondered, watching her. Yes, she'd hurt him. Yes, it'd felt like betrayal at the time. But when it all boiled down, she was nothing. She was a stay at home mom. Who in their right mind would try to get revenge on a stay at home mom?
Who says you were in your right mind?
That was a good point.
"Come sit down, niña." Tess flinched at the sound of his voice. Sands grimaced – he'd scared her and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. "We still have unfinished business, pequeña. The sooner we get it done, the sooner you get to leave."
Still agitated, Tess muttered under her breath, "Cleanliness and order are not matters of instinct; they are matters of education," but she took Sands words under consideration anyway. He was right, and she wanted out. Drifting slowly in his direction like a cat that comes at the sounds of its name, but would like you to think it had already been considering coming over, she told him, "I'm not little."
"Of course not." Sands watched as she came over to the table, taking a seat after she did. The first thing he did was hand over her necklace – the one with a microphone in it. He'd removed it before things had gotten serious . . . not out of any real consideration for her reputation but for his own.
Tess shook her head as if she knew what had motivated him, but she took it, and fastened it around her neck. Her eyes were fastened on the floor as she tried to regain some measure of composure. Sands overset her so easily.
She heard him sigh and get up. Small rustles came from across the room; Tess imagined that Sands was digging through a pile of papers, looking for something. When his footsteps approached the table again, she couldn't help but tense in anxiety.
Get out, get out, get out, get . . . The urge to run was coming much too late, and Tess did what she could to muffle it. If Sands had 'business' to go over, then she wasn't going to be able to leave until it'd been discussed.
"I know the floor is interesting, but I'm not sure I'd consider it enthralling, niña." Sands was amused and annoyed by the way she stubbornly refused to look at him. He wasn't going to hurt her. He'd had no intention of hurting her earlier, but she'd struck low and hard and he'd reacted. An apology was in order, he knew, but he also knew he wasn't going to give one and she wouldn't believe it if he did. She'd probably had people apologize for hurting her before – it fit the pattern of behavior for most abusive parents – only to have them do it again.
God, I'm turning into such a sap, he growled to himself while Tess still didn't raise her eyes from the ground. If her avoidance was getting to him, he'd definitely gone too soft.
Irritated, he reached over and slipped his hand under her chin, forcing her to raise her face. Her eyes met his briefly before starting to dart around the room; her hands started tapping at the arms of her chair and he let his hand fall away.
"Here." Sands abruptly thrust a folder in her direction. Tess hesitantly took it, idly noticing that there was about a half inch's worth of papers inside. The moment she had it in her grasp, he stood, running one hand through his hair and grabbing his pack of cigarettes with the other. As he walked across the room to a window, he lit up and she looked back down at her lap.
The folder was unmarked, giving her no hints as to what was inside.
Great. Another unmarked package. Don't tell me you're really considering opening it.
How else am I supposed to find out what's inside? Tess asked reasonably. It must be important if Sands gave it to me, right?
Just because something is important doesn't mean you want to know, and with the way things have been going lately, you'd be better off not knowing.
You're such a pessimist.
With reason.
Then you can be reasonable, and I can be curious. Strangely enough, Tess did want to find out what was inside the folder, even if she was already unsettled. How much worse can things get?
Shut your mouth. Never say things like that. You'll tempt fate.
Why should you care? I thought you enjoyed tempting fate.
There were a few soft grumbling protests to the contrary, but the voice finally fell silent. Once Tess was sure she was semi-alone in her own head, she carefully opened the folder. What she saw made tears prick her eyes and her breath go shallow in her lungs.
With hands that trembled, she picked up the first sheet of paper. It was black and had construction paper flowers on it; each piece was segmented, making Tess think of stained glass. Underneath it was a piece of sky blue paper with paper snowflakes glued to it. Both had Ren's name on the back.
Tess quickly sifted through the pile, seeing pictures, and paintings, and letters, and report cards, and progress reports, and photos. So many thing to look at, so much time to catch up on.
"How long have you had this?" she asked softly, directing her words to the silent figure at the window. She was now more grateful than ever for the scant privacy Sands was giving her, but she needed to know.
"It came with a batch of intelligence and reconnaissance reports last night," he finally replied after several long seconds. Apparently our old friend Pauly was trying to hold most of it back and had succeeded until earlier this month. Director Colton found out and had things sent through." Sands knew it was because his superior thought that Tess might be more cooperative if she got some news of her family, some assurance that they were safe. It was a selfish reason for doing a good deed, but Tess didn't need to know that.
Tess was occupied by other thoughts anyway. Looking at the date on one of Marcos' report cards, she surmised that some of the papers dated back to early January. It was now close to the third week of February. There were over a month's worth of correspondence here. Was her family worried that she hadn't replied to any of this yet, or had they known it was all being withheld from her? She glanced up and Sands to ask, but got distracted as she watched him rub at his eyes. They must be bothering him.
"You should take out your contacts," she said quietly, knowing her input probably wouldn't be appreciated. The time when she could make such suggestions was long past.
And she was right. Sands ignored her entirely, switching the topic on her to draw her attention away from his discomfort. "You're going to have to peruse all that here, niña. You can't take it back to the compound with you."
Tess immediately bristled and prepared to protest, but she clamped her mouth shut. Sands was right. If she wanted to keep the kids safe, she couldn't take this back with her. But she couldn't stay here for the amount of time it'd take to look over all this thoroughly either.
"I can't stay," she whispered, more devastated by this than by their argument earlier. "I don't even have the time to look any of this over. I'm in enough trouble for sneaking out as it is."
You're already too late as it is. You should have left before falling into bed with him.
That's a reversal – normally you'd be urging me to stay for that bit.
Sure, if you had the time. You didn't. You're going to catch it for this.
She was, but she'd known that when she'd left. And in the long run, perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. She wasn't the child who'd been so easily quieted all those years before. She was a grown woman now, over three decades old, and more than mature enough to decide when she could come and go. Others had pushed her around for too long and Tess was sick of it.
But that didn't make the decision to break free any easier.
"I have to go now," she murmured, standing. "Don't get rid of this. I'll try to look it over at some other time." Sands turned from his inspection of the street to meet her eyes. "Will . . . will you let them know I got it? I hate to think that they're worrying about me since I haven't replied to any of this."
Sands nodded and picked up a nearby box. In a quick motion, he tossed it to her, and Tess caught it out of reflex. It was a box of tissues. That startled a wet laugh out of her.
She used one to wipe eyes she hadn't known had been tearing, and blew her nose on another, then tossed the box back to Sands. He caught it one-handed and set it back down on the counter.
"There's something else you need to know before you leave," he said, walking back over to the table. He was debating the wisdom of doing what he was about to do, but as far as he was concerned had several good reasons to back him up. Unless he missed his guess, Tess was going to be in hot water for leaving the compound without her cousin's permission and she was going to need something to allay his temper. She might be able to turn a blind eye to Carlos' disposition because of a single act of kindness that was far in the past, but Sands was in a better position to notice the man's manipulation. Tess also needed to start proving to her cousins that she was of some use to the cartel, and the information he had would help her do that. Without their Carlos and Neva's confidence, Tess wasn't going to be much help to the operation, and the Company was starting to run out of patience, even if they hadn't started breathing down Sands' neck yet. His last reason for giving her the info was that if Tessa finally earned a place in the cartel hierarchy, she'd hear the details for the territorial take-over instead of having to creep around to find it. It'd be safer – for her and ultimately for him – in the long run. "Call it a present if you want."
"A present?" Tess was skeptical. "Beware Greeks bearing gifts." Now that she'd remembered that she had to get back, the urge to turn and leave was strong.
"Okay, then I have something better than a present." Reaching into his pocket, Sands pulled out a small CD-rom, one of the three-inch ones that were starting to be used more and more. He handed it to Tess without ceremony.
"What's this?" she asked, turning it over in her hands.
"That," he pointed at the disk, "is all the information we've been able to glean on the attempted hit in Durango." He saw Tess grow both pale and thoughtful. She didn't like to be reminded about her latest near miss, but she knew what having the information meant. "I suggest you use it as a peace-offering between you and your cousin." Her head rose in a startled movement, and her eyes met his without resistance. Sands just shrugged. "We both know you left without permission."
Tess wondered if that was the main reason he was giving her this, or just the first one he'd thought of as a cover for his actions. "There's more to it than that, isn't there?" She knew how the game was played, even if she sometimes forced herself to forget.
Sands shrugged again. "You've got to gain your cousin's trust soon. The big bosses are getting impatient to bring the operation down, but we need more details before we can even start planning. And you're the one that's going to have to get them for us. If you can't get them firsthand, you're going to have to start rifling through papers and listening at doors."
"Which isn't the safest or most efficient way of getting information," she finished for him. Tess looked at the disk again, and sighed. "Just what am I supposed to do with this?"
"All the information has been formatted in a way that makes it look like one of your doubtlessly numerous contacts put it together. That's why you had to go into town today, to pick it up from a P.O. box. You're going to give it to Carlos without looking at the contents. If he asks why you haven't gone through it already, tell him that as el jefe, it should go to him first. He's the one that's going to need to decide what kind of action to take."
Tess nodded her understanding. This wasn't going to get her out of trouble – she'd been gone to long for it to help with that – but it might help smooth things over afterwards. Slipping the disk into her purse, she murmured, "Even with this, I'll be punished for leaving. Carlos has to keep face in front of his men and I've threatened that." Sands didn't say anything, and she was glad she wasn't facing him. "I suppose you'll know how things go."
"I suppose I will."
Typical. Tess crossed to the door and opened it, grimacing disdainfully as the door across the hall closed an instant too late. She wondered how long they'd been listening at the door and why'd they even bother.
As she closed the door, Tess instructed over her shoulder, "Take your contacts out, use your eye drops, and put on your glasses. You're not going to be of much use if you get an infection."
The door shut before Sands could say anything about nosy women and know-it-all doctors.
The black coup was easily recognizable when Tess showed up at the gates of the compound. Enough so that she hadn't been challenged at any of the guard posts she knew existed along the road for at least a mile before getting to the gates themselves.
She was let in without any fuss, although she was made to get out of the car and go straight to the house. One of Carlos' many henchmen took the keys and she assumed he went off to return the car to the garage, but since her own bodyguards (who looked chagrined and severely chastised) hustled her into the house, she didn't have time to confirm that hunch.
Just the speed at which she was escorted through the house and the fact that she wasn't even allowed to go up to her room to neaten her appearance first showed how much trouble she was in. Tess knew what her father's penalty for disappearing had been, and she doubted Carlos' couldn't be worse. She was a little old to be put on bread and water for three weeks and in a blindfold for five.
That just means it's going to hurt more.
Thank you. I'd already figured that out.
The men stopped her in front of what she knew were the doors to the billiard room. One of the men knocked, and Carlos' voice could be heard granting permission to come in. Tess was not encouraged by the total lack of warm and emotion from it. But the doors swung open whether she wanted them to or not, and she stepped through even though her mind was screaming at her to stop. Just because this meeting was unavoidable didn't mean she couldn't resist. Tess knew otherwise; to avoid this was to exponentially increase Carlos' anger.
The doors closed silently behind her.
Tess swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Carlos was ignoring her, but she knew it was to prove a point. He wanted her to knew that he was displeased with her and that he had all the time in the world to teach her the wrongness of her actions. It was a lesson Tess had learned often enough so some of its impact was dulled. Right now she just wanted to get his over with and return to her room to tend her wounds.
"You left." Carlos' emotionless voice scattered her thoughts. He casually took a shot, knocking one of the brightly colored balls into a pocket; the smoke from his cigar filled the room and Tess wondered what it was with nicotine and the men she was around the most. But she forced herself to pay attention. Despite his show of nonchalance, he was expecting an accounting from her.
Knowing that excuses would only earn her more wrath and explanations were unwanted until they were asked for, she simply said, "I did."
"You left your bodyguards here against my expressed wishes."
She swallowed hard and clasped her hands behind her back, standing up straight, her shoulders back. "I did."
"You lied to the men at the gate."
"Yes."
"You look a car without permission."
"Yes."
"You were gone for three hours without contacting anyone to let them know you were safe."
"Yes." By now she was forcing herself to answer.
Carlos must have heard the hesitation in her voice because he turned away from the pool table and walked over to her, cue still in hand. "Your personal guards and the men at the gate have all been punished." She wasn't surprised. "After flouting your disregard for my authority and my wishes like that, you know that I cannot let you leave this room as you came in." It wasn't a question, but it still required an answer.
"Yes."
Her cousin met her eyes and nodded, seeing that she knew what was coming. "You are too old for me to banish you to your room, like my uncle did," he said softly. "I suspect you would appreciate the opportunity to withdraw. Wouldn't you?" She nodded. "Then you have forced my hand in this." Again, not a question.
"Yes."
As the word left her mouth, Carlos lashed out with the cue, hitting her squarely, right on the bullet wound in her side that was still healing. Tess ground her teeth and her eyes squeezed shut, but she didn't cry out even though it felt as if her side was on fire.
Giving her just enough time to draw in and expel a single breath, Carlos drew his arm back again, then let the blow fall. Tessa's body tensed in pain, and she bit her lips, but she still remained silent. Carlos admired her for that, but he wasn't finished yet. She received a third blow, and a fourth, and a fifth. After the fifth strike there was blood on the end of his cue from her wound which had broken open under the stress. Tess had bitten through her lip and there were tears on her face, but she hadn't made a sound.
Uncle trained her well, he thought, looking at her. Very few new recruits in the military would have stood up so well. Carlos knew his blows had been light compared to those his men had received, but then again, he hadn't been exploiting a already existing wound on them either.
"I didn't want to do that, querida, but you know I had to." She nodded, her head ducked to hide her tears. "Tell me why I had to."
"To maintain your control over you men." Tessa's voice was soft and tinged with her pain, but her tears didn't choke them in her throat. But then again, Carlos didn't expect anything less from this woman who had been raised by Armando Barillo. She would make a formidable consort.
With this thought in mind, Carlos took several steps forward and raised her head until he could look into her face, impressed by the strength of character that kept her from so much as flinching at his touch. He examined her for a full minute, taking note that the tears had stopped and her face was composed. Formidable indeed.
Tess felt part of her mind sigh in relief when he released her and turned away. She had grown used to being touched, but that didn't mean she always enjoyed it. When the hand doing the touching was the same one that had just beat her, she distinctly disliked it, but she'd tucked that emotion securely away.
In any other schizophrenic, Tess knew, this little incident would have set off an episode, but for some reason most of her voices considered this to be normal and didn't protest. It was sad, but she was grateful for it all the same. Her childhood had been turbulent enough without worrying about that, and it aided her now. Perhaps part of her was a masochist, because it certainly felt as if the pain were being embraced and pulled deep inside of her. But whether it was rejoiced over or simply disposed of, she didn't know and didn't care.
"You may go." The words came as a shock to Tessa who had almost forgotten there was anyone else in the room. Her eyes found Carlos as he looked out a window at the garden he spent part of everyday toiling in. His posture and position reminded her strongly of Sands, and she had to look away. "Go back to your room and tend to yourself. You will join me for dinner and afterwards you will give an explanation for what you found so important that you risked this encounter."
Tess nodded, even though she knew he wasn't looking, and left the room, her bodyguards falling into line behind her.
"Teresa." Carlos voice stopped them all before they'd gone more than three steps. "If you attempt to leave again without my permission, you'll be beaten and your guards will be shot. Do you understand me?"
"Yes." Whether he heard her or merely read her lips Tessa didn't know, but he finally let her go. As she climbed the stairs to her room, she tried not to feel as if she were retreating.
The wound was an ugly one. It'd only been halfway healed that morning, and now it was angry and oozing blood again. Tess examined it with a mirror and a bright light, wincing as she remembered the pain of peeling off her shirt. Even though it appeared clean, Tess rinsed it first in saline solution and again with a stinging antibacterial wash before taping a large gauze pad over the area. It hurt to apply pressure, but it was necessary to help slow the bleeding, so Tess stoically bore it. Oddly enough, it hurt more to tend to her lip than to her side, but at least that was a faster procedure.
Wearily walking to one of the cabinets in the back of the infirmary, Tess pushed aside several bottles of antibiotics and antitoxins to unearth her own medications. Her mind was spinning from everything that had happened that day, and she needed sleep to help settle it, but there was no way she could sleep at the moment. Not for the first time, she wished she could keep these in her own bathroom, but they'd be too obvious there. There were no guarantees that her room wasn't routinely searched, and she had no desire for these to be found.
After giving herself a little something to ensure a sound – but no long – sleep, Tess moved to her room, trying to ignore the sensation of being watched. Her guards were posted outside the door to this room and the one to bedroom. There was no possibility of her going anywhere until supper. Not that she really wanted to. She was content to lick her wounds in peace.
Tess set her alarm so it'd wake her up roughly an hour before dinner so she'd have time to make herself presentable, then she laid down. The drug she'd given herself was quick to work, no match for the thoughts blazing separate and contradictory paths across her mind. Nothing could keep her eyes open, not Sands, not her family, not Carlos, not memories of her father. However, as a result of her mental unrest, her dreams were filled with the far-off sounds of children's laughter, a sharp pain in her side, long-fingered hands stroking her hair, and a pair of cold blue eyes. It was almost a relief to wake up again.
Dinner had been formal. Most meals after a punishment were, a further challenge for Tess to save face. She'd dressed in an off-the-shoulder red dress, and left her hair down. Carlos was in a navy silk shirt and chinos, and Neva had completed the little group in a sedate white pantsuit with gold buttons. Tess had tried not to look at her female cousin, well aware of the smug look that'd be on her face. Neva had always believed that Tess was too haughty and she enjoyed watching Tess get in trouble. Not that she'd ever tattled like Ajedrez had, but her self-satisfied gaze had been almost as bad. Now Tess could only hope that Neva didn't know any specifics about what had happened.
The meal had passed in silence, and Tess had almost sighed in relief when it'd ended and Carlos had ushered the two women into his private study. This was perhaps the one room in the house that Tess had never entered. It was paneled in oak and furnished with brass and leather, much as one might expect of a male's inner sanctum.
The three had all taken seats around a small coffee table where coffee and tea were already set out, along with several goblets and a decanter of red wine. Neva opted for wine while Tess had tea and Carlos had coffee strengthened with a shot of brandy from a nearby table.
Once they were all settled, Carlos immediately got down to business. "I believe you still owe me an explanation for this morning, prima."
From the look on Neva's face, she'd been briefed on the morning's fiasco and had heard what Tessa's punishment had been. That single look made Tess reluctant to say anything else. So instead of offering a verbal explanation, Tess pulled the small disk out of the pocket that'd convinced her to wear this dress to dinner. Carlos took it from her and looked at it in much the same way earlier, then transferred his gaze to her. "What's this?"
"My explanation. Needed answers. Reconnaissance." She shrugged. "It's only as much as what you make of it."
"A lot of things for such a small thing to be," Carlos observed mildly. "Why don't you drop the riddles and give me a straight answer."
She sighed, wishing she could have gotten away with it. "Two days after arriving here, I sent a message back to Culíacan with one of the supply caravans that had come with my medical inventory. It was to one of my contacts there. I asked them to do some poking around and find out just who was trying to kill me and why." She saw the patient look on Carlos' face and the skeptical one on Neva's. As chief of security, finding out that information would have been Neva's job. "I knew you were probably already doing that, but I needed to do something, if just to purge my own demons of that night. I got a call on my cell phone yesterday from my contact. He said he'd sent the information he'd found overnight to a P.O. box in the town. So impatient to get it, I left this morning with every intension of being gone for no more than an hour. Unfortunately, the cuate didn't take into account that there's more than one post office in Guadalupe, so I had to search around for the right one." Tess shrugged, nothing about her face, posture, or voice giving away the fact that she was lying through her teeth.
Carlos and Neva exchanged another look, and Neva took over the questioning. "And just what information is on this disk, ratón?"
"Neva. . . ." Carlos rebuked his sister for the unkind nickname, but didn't say anything else. He was waiting for Tessa's answer to the question.
"I don't know." That at least wasn't a lie. "I decided just to bring it home and turn it over to Carlos. I figured that if there was anything on it that I needed to know, I would be told."
This had been the right answer, she could see it in their eyes. Carlos had an approving air around him and Neva simply looked less hostile. Tess silently thanked Sands for his advice.
"Very wise of you, querida." Carlos handed the CD to Neva. "I trust you'll look over this and brief me on what you feel is important?" he addressed his sister.
Neva nodded and stood, recognizing a dismissal when she heard one. With one last measuring look at Tess, the other woman left the room, presumably to start sifting though information. Tess suddenly hoped that Sands and his people had had the foresight to include a few dead leads and a bit of misinformation. If it was too accurate, Neva might get suspicious."
"Don't look so distressed, Teresa. I think Neva is finally starting to come around."
Once again Carlos had taken her by surprise. Tess cursed and reminded herself to pay attention. One of these days her wandering mind might get her into trouble. "That would be nice. I'm tired of having to tip-toe around her." That too was the truth.
"And how are you? I hope you weren't too badly hurt?"
Hypocrite. He knows exactly how badly hurt you were. He's the one that did it.
Yes, but this is the apology.
Then why does he sound as if he's inquiring to your health after being in a car accident?
Don't be stupid. You know how it works. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it's going to change. "Not too badly," she blandly agreed. That small bit of rebellion must have come from her other side, because Tess certainly hadn't meant for it to be there.
"You're upset with me?" Carlos' eyebrows rose and he took a sip of his coffee.
Yes. "No. I'm just afraid that I'm tired still. Disagreements tend to do that to me." She played along, making it sound as if nothing had really happened between them.
"Then I'm selfish for keeping you up." He stood and walked to her chair, helping her to her feet. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We really were concerned for you."
As if I'd had a choice. "It was my pleasure. I did owe you an explanation after all."
"And you did admirably. Now, go to bed." He leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. It made Tess uncomfortable, but she stayed still, telling herself it was the kiss and apology of a cousin and nothing more.
Her bodyguards came into the room before she could think about it any more, and Carlos surrendered her to them. "Sueñes de agradable."
Sweet dreams. "Gracias, primo. Y tú."
Quotes: Eugene Field, Benjamin Disraeli, Homer.
Author's Thanks: first of all, I'd like to thank everyone for being so patient with me. Now, on to individual thanks.
normal human being (I know the ending of the last chapter was cruel, but Sands just kinda slammed the door in my face. That was one time he didn't want me to write about anything. And as for his being a bastard? I've got plenty of bastardy goodness left for him before he admits to liking Tess. I'm glad you liked that chapter so much though. It was really fun to write and fun to give Tess the much needed opportunity to blow off some steam.) Isola (I thought it was a good closing line. Discrete, but you knew just what he was going to be doing. And I liked throwing in that little epiphany for him; he likes Tess being stubborn. Otherwise there's no challenge to their game. Thank you for the compliments on my writing – I'm not sure they're really so well earned, but they're encouraging nonetheless, and they remind me not to settle and to fight to get people to do what they're feeling, not what's easiest to write.); Dreamgirl21147 (I'm not sure where that quote is in Lirael, but I'm pretty certain it's Dog who says it. Either at the door of three signs when they're exploring and the Sending tests her blood, or at the end when people finally catch on that Lirael is the Abhorsen-in-waiting, not Sam.); Merrie (hey! That fight was fun! ; ) And of course they can't get along, at least not yet. As for smut, I think that's all being invested in our other little enterprise, so blame Jeffrey, Salida, and Aida. And your Sands.); C.J. Davis (hey, I understand that real life can get in the way of important things like fanfic. Just review when you can and you'll make me a very happy OUATIM writer.); SavvyJackSparrow (Are Sands and Tess ever going to get serious? Hmm, good question. I know the answer of course, I just have to get them to agree with it. ; ) Don't worry, I'm nowhere done with arguing with them yet.); Shannon (Squeals of delight are good. And yes, just because something is repetitive doesn't mean its not heartfelt, so repeat away. As for Sands and his layers, I'm just glad I'm doing good and writing a true version of my view on him. Its not as psychotic as some, but at least it's not OOC.); Tracey6 (I tried to update soon, I really did. But this is what 'soon' turned out to be. I just hope that you don't have any complaints.); Raven (Well, if updates keep getting better and better, I'll have to stop soon because I won't be able to best myself any more. I'm glad you feel special – that's one of the reasons I do these individual reviews. If you can put in the effort to review, then I can put the effort in to reply. And Sands as a gentleman, you're right. He's not at all. He's got his own moral code, but he's not a gentleman by any stretch of the imagination.); dagzer (like I've said, I'm really trying to get these out as fast as I can, but the more complicated emotions and interactions get, the slower they seem to make it from my fingers to your screen. I just hope I haven't lost your interest.)
