“Hey, get your fucking hands off her!”

Cora snapped awake with a furiously beating heart, blinking in confusion as Angel’s warm body was snatched away from her. The angle of the day’s light had shifted since she’d last been conscious; it looked to be late afternoon judging from the dusty rays sliding through the SUV’s windshield.

Angel briefly struggled against the fist Lars held him with, and then pushed himself into the corner.

She pushed herself up, gently pressing against Lars’s hand until he released Angel and settled back in his seat. Lars gave her a disgusted look, shook his head, and faced forward.

She could understand why Lars was pissed off with her. She’d been snuggling on the back seat with the same man who’d almost blown out her brains. But that wasn’t all. This went beyond simple anger or irritation. She could remember his face, when Angel cocked that gun.

Fear.

Not for himself. Not for the situation, or the mess afterward.

He’d been terrified she would die.

“Lars,” she said, and put her hand on his shoulder. “When we—”

He shrugged away from her, sat forward in a rush and peered out the windshield. “You drive like my fucking grandmother,” he said to Finn. “We’ll never make it anywhere at this rate.”

The men must have stopped to change the tire, because the car seemed to be running smoothly now.

Finn threw him a glance like he knew Lars’s irritation wasn’t his doing, and then pushed down on the accelerator.

“You’re getting us out of the speeding ticket,” he said, as the SUV began eating up the miles of tar stretching ahead of them.

Cora sat back in her seat. Angel glanced across at her when she settled. She reached out, lay her fingers over the fist in his lap, and tried to will calm into him. His other hand, the bandaged one, he held to the side; stiff and open-fingered as if it hurt to close it.

As if that touch had opened a locked door in her mind, memories streamed back. She blinked hard, mind churning.

Angel had been taking her to El Lobo when Lars and Finn had caught up with them. But he didn’t like El Lobo. He may even hate the man. Had he been forced into doing it? Blackmail? What could Zachary West possibly have on Angel that would make him go to such lengths to bring her back?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Angel drew his hand away from hers.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’ll work this out.”

But instead of the smile she’d been expecting, he gave her a look of deadpan introspection, and murmured, “You should have left me to die, La Sombra.”

“He’s right,” Finn said.

She met Finn’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he looked away as soon as their gazes met. Her stomach turned cold, and she gave Angel a brief, guilty look.

Would they believe her if she told them it had been the drugs? Nothing had made sense back there, by Javier’s villa. But some strange intuition had told her she needed Angel by her side. For now, at least.

Because he knows where El Lobo is.

The thought was a chilling one. So what if he knew? What was she supposed to do with that information? Storm the capo of Plata o Plomo’s headquarters and try to take him out? She would have laughed at the thought, if she didn’t feel so disheartened.

On the run. Again.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

There was silence as Finn and Lars exchanged a glance.

“Somewhere safe,” Lars said, just as Finn replied, “To get your father.”

The two men scowled at each other.

“My…my father?” Cora sat forward in a rush. “Where is he? How did you—?”

“I thought we discussed this,” Lars said through his teeth.

Finn slammed on the brakes. Lars caught himself against the dashboard, spots of red on his cheeks.

“Guys…” Cora murmured, reaching a hand to each.

“If you don’t want part of this, then get the fuck out and—” Finn began.

“There’s two of us, Milo.” Lars held up a hand and extended two fingers. “Dos. How many men do you think this guy’s going to have at the drop, hmm? Unless he only brings one fucking soldier, we’re outnumbered.”

“Four,” Cora said, her voice dripping ice. “We’re four.”

Lars threw her a condescending glance. “That’s cute. But no. We’re two.”

Cora twisted her mouth, and reached for the small of her back. But her Taurus wasn’t there anymore. She dropped her gaze, checking the cabin of the SUV.

“See? Dos.” Lars turned back to Finn. “You do the math.”

“Three,” came Angel’s voice.

Cora looked up at him. He held one hand cradled to his stomach, but his eyes burned with a fierce light. “I can help.”

Lars sighed. “Two and a half, and you know how overly optimistic I can be sometimes, Milo.”

“Where is my father?” Cora asked, trying to enunciate every word as carefully as she could.

“Don’t do that,” Finn said. “You sound like Javier.”

“At least he gets answers. Why the hell won’t you tell me—”

“Zachary West has him. He offered a trade for your father and the files.” Finn caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “The ones I assume that are on that necklace of yours?”

Necklace. Cora touched fingers to her breastbone, but nothing hung from her neck anymore. Of course—she’d taken it off on the ride. She dug in her pocket and drew out the chain, letting Santa Muerte sway from side to side. Light caught the pendant in a strange way, making it look as if there was a secret glint in those empty eye sockets.

“So you did have it,” Finn said.

“That thing?” Lars pulled a face. “That’s what everyone’s after?”

“Everyone?” Cora said. “Who?”

“Javier. Zachary. Probably other capos we don’t even know about.” Finn caught her eye in the mirror again. “You know what’s on there, don’t you?”

She shook her head, catching the pendant and laying it on her palm. “Something important. That’s all Papá said.”

“Papá was being a right dick,” Lars muttered. “Papá could have done a hundred more intelligent things with that info than giving it to you.”

“Lars,” Finn grumbled.

“What? Come on.”

“He said he couldn’t take it over the border,” Cora said, but whether in defense or not, she didn’t know.

“We’re dropping you off, and then we’ll go to the hangar to make the exchange.” Finn glanced across at Lars. “Are we in agreement?”

Lars shrugged. “Guess there’s no reason for everyone to die. We had a good run.”

She caught Finn rolling his eyes.

The pendant had warmed in her hand. She opened her fingers and stroked the side of Santa Muerte’s skull. Had she really seen the saint down there in the dark, when her breath had been almost gone? Her life flickering like the last quarter inch of a candle’s wick?

These men were willing to risk their lives—Lars grudgingly—for her father.

For her.

The least she could do was provide a distraction.

“No,” she said, sitting forward.

“No what?” Finn asked, but his attention was on the road, not on her.

“You’re not dropping us off. You’re not doing this alone.” She held the pendant tight in her hand. “All he wants is this information. He won’t hurt me. And he knows Angel. Angel…” she glanced across at the young man. He studied her with big, black eyes and a straight-lined mouth. “Angel’s going to take me to him. Just us. Like he kidnapped me.”

Finn barked a laugh the same time Lars pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a massive sigh. “That’s the worst idea I ever—” Lars began.

“You said we’d be outnumbered,” Cora said. “Let Angel have a gun. He takes me in, says he brought me by himself. I give Zachary the necklace, and I take Papá and leave.” She slipped the pendant over her neck and dusted her hands. “Easy as that.”

“God, you’re so fucking naive, it makes my balls ache,” Lars muttered. “Why would he let any of you live once he has the files?”

“We’re not a threat,” Cora said. “Papá—”

“He’ll definitely kill your father,” Finn said, and then added, “You have to understand that’s what’s going to happen, Cora. Why would he let the capo of a rival cartel—”

“Because my father isn’t part of the cartel anymore.” Cora straightened her spine, giving Finn and Lars as insistent a stare as she could.

“You just tap your heels and wrinkle your nose, and he’s not capo anymore?” Lars asked dryly. He turned in his seat, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “You a magical bunny?”

His sarcasm made her want to slap him again. But she quickly closed her twitching hand into a fist and tried to stare him down.

It would have helped if his eyes weren’t so damn intense.

She swallowed hard, squeezing the pendant.

Lars cocked an eyebrow at her, and Finn’s gaze flashed to the mirror.

“My father isn’t capo anymore,” Cora said. “I am.”