Your Next Breath

Panic raced through her. Oh, God, and the fact that they’d told Hu Chang to keep Luke inside had actually set him up for the shooter.

Don’t let Santos see the fear that was tearing at her. He was waiting for a reaction. Don’t give it to him. “And I thought that you and Dorgal were soul mates. Both tarred by the same brush.”

“Delores never trusted him. Why should I? She’s the one who hired Lambell in case I ever had to use him to take Dorgal out if he becomes too troublesome.” He smiled. “So you can see, Lambell is my ace in the hole. If Dorgal’s men can’t make the hit, Lambell will do it. I called him last night and told him to be ready for the kill. So all your safety measures are going to be for nothing. As soon as I give the word, he’s going to blow your Luke’s handsome head off.”

Catherine felt sick. He was so terribly certain.

And he could see what she was feeling in spite of every effort to keep it from him. “Yes, that’s what I want from you. Horror. Your worst nightmare. No more photos. I might just let you get a Skype shot when he pulls the trigger. What a terrible feeling. And you wouldn’t be able to give him his chance to live, as I gave Delores. No Dr. Montez for your son. No chance for him. No chance for you. It gives you a different perspective, doesn’t it?”

“It makes me wonder if there’s a hell that’s horrible enough for God to send you to.” She swallowed. “It won’t happen. You’ll fail, Santos.”

“Shall I take out my phone and give the word?”

She didn’t answer.

“You’re frightened. I like that. But I’ll wait until we’re with Delores to kill the boy. She was always one to appreciate the turn of the knife.”

“She’s dead, dammit.”

“Only in your eyes. But you may change your mind when you see her.” He gestured up the hill. “You see that granite tomb? Isn’t it splendid? The finest black granite, the doors crafted of Italian bronze. Everything about it is meant to be a frame for a queen. My queen. You were so interested in Montez and what he was doing for me. Now you can see for yourself.”

“Montez is here?”

“Of course. I would have had him killed in Guatemala if I hadn’t wanted him as an insurance policy for Delores.”

“And for you.”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “But I have no intention of needing his services.”

“Neither did Delores.”

“But she was always more cautious than me. I went along with her, and I’m glad I did. For her sake. I intend to live for a long, long time before I need Montez. But when I do, he’ll always be here … waiting. Just as he’s doing now. You see him standing there by the door of the tomb? I thought you should see that you’d failed with him, too. He came to me last night and told me that he wouldn’t cause me any more trouble if I spared him and his family.”

“Poor bastard.”

“He’s learned his lesson. Now it’s time you learned yours, Catherine.”

They had reached the tomb, and the sheer massiveness of the structure was overwhelming, Catherine thought.

Weapons.

Had Cameron managed to hide her gun and knife?

Gardenias. The scent of the ivory-colored blossoms drifted heavy and fragrant on the air.

She could see the large, oval, granite tray before the ornate bronze door, and heaped on it were the bouquets of gardenias. She couldn’t tell if her weapons were stashed beneath them, but she had to assume that they were.

Or pray that they were.

How to get to them?

“Hello.” Eduardo Montez stepped forward. “I told you that what you were doing was useless, Catherine. I couldn’t fight against him, and neither can you.”

Did he mean it? Cameron had been sure he’d influenced him, but she couldn’t be sure. Had Montez finally caved to the pressure?

“Speak for yourself,” she said jerkily. “I’ll fight him until there’s no breath left in my body.”

“Which will be very soon.” Santos chuckled. He took her arm and shoved her toward the tomb entrance. “Let’s start the process right now. I guarantee seeing Delores will take your breath away.”

“No.” She stopped before the door and then spun around to stand defiantly in front of the gardenia tray. “I won’t go and pay some kind of sick homage to that bitch,” she said fiercely. “If you want to kill me, do it here.”

“You will go in that tomb.” Santos’s face was flushed, and his eyes were glittering with rage. “You’re going to know that you failed.”

“The hell I will.” Push him just a little more. “Screw you, Santos.”

She spit in his face.

He made a sound of pure animal rage.

He backhanded her across the face with all his strength.

Pain.

Ignore it.

Use it.

She cried out, spun away, and fell.

Straight down into the granite tray of gardenias.

The scent of flowers was overwhelming as her face buried itself in the soft blossoms.

Dizzy. Her head was whirling from the blow. For an instant she couldn’t move.

That was okay. He had struck her with such force, he would expect her to be stu

Her hands reached out blindly beneath her.

Where was it?

Cool metal …

Her right hand closed on the butt of her Luger. Too big. Too risky. She wouldn’t be able to hide it in her jacket.

Her dagger …

She found it!

She flipped it under her jacket sleeve.

“Are you all right?” Montez was kneeling beside her, his expression concerned. “I told you not to fight him.”

“Get away from her,” Santos said harshly. “Get on your feet, you stinking whore.”

“In a minute.” She made a show of struggling to get to her feet. While pushing the bouquets of gardenias back over the gun.

“Call me whatever you want.” She could feel the blood ru

He drew back his hand, then dropped it to his side. “I think you must want me to kill you. Do you? That would avoid having to admit that you’re responsible for my butchering your son.” He opened the bronze door. “But I’m not going to let you get away with it. You have to experience it all. Come in and see my Delores.” He pushed her inside the dim interior. “And you’ll see why I permitted Montez to stay alive.”

She glanced at Montez over her shoulder. If she expected some sign of encouragement, she was disappointed. His face was without expression.

“You’ll excuse the chill. Delores requires it. But it doesn’t interfere with the décor. All the mechanics are in an underground room.” Santos was turning on the gothic torchlight beside the door, and the dimness suddenly came alive. The flickering bulbs revealed a room that was magnificent in every detail. It looked like a cross between an Egyptian temple, with stately, gilt chairs and statues on malachite pedestals, and a Persian palace, with thick carpets that covered the cold stone of the floor. There were dozens of photos of Delores in gilt and bejeweled frames on the walls. “The lowered temperature cuts down on additional power needs.”

And then Catherine saw Delores lying on what appeared to be a glass-enclosed pedestal in the center of the crypt. She was dressed all in gold, like an ancient pagan empress, her dark hair shining on her bare shoulders. She looked vibrantly alive and wonderfully beautiful. So alive that anyone might have expected her to open her eyes at any moment, sit up, and step out of that coffin.

And that’s what Montez had pla

And then all the evil and ugliness that was hidden behind that beautiful mask would return and come alive again.

“I told you.” Santos’s gaze was raking Catherine’s face. “Now you know that you couldn’t destroy her.”

“I know that Montez did a fantastic job. I saw the Lenin exhibit and studied Stalin’s embalming. This far exceeds the skill they used.” She turned to look at him. “But I did destroy her, and if necessary, I’ll do it again.”