Sabrina slowly opened her eyes, but the brightness made it feel like a thousand tiny needles were poking her eyeballs, so she promptly shut them again. What the hell? What would cause the light to hurt like that?
After about a minute, she tried to open her eyes again. This time she kept them open long enough to notice the pale blue color of the walls. This wasn’t her apartment, which meant Jorge must’ve moved them.
She closed her eyes again and tried to remember the last thing that had happened to her. Then it hit her—she remembered Jorge-the-asshole pricking her with a needle, and then nothing. Now forcing her eyes to remain open long enough to look around, she could see she was in a small bedroom with faded pictures on the walls and a small en suite bathroom off to the side. Her best guess was that this was a cheap hotel or a low-budget hostel room.
Her training prevented her from freaking out at waking up in a strange place. She’d been fortunate in the past and hadn’t yet experienced being drugged outside of her training days with the Feiru Liaison office down in Brazil. The feeling was unpleasant, like someone was banging a drum inside her head, but she’d live.
She was more concerned about the meeting with her boss from the Mexico City Feiru Liaison office. She had no way of knowing if Yolanda had succeeded in passing on the message before she went missing.
Yolanda. She didn’t know a whole lot about the woman’s private life, but she’d been putting herself in danger to help Sabrina for nearly a year. If something happened to her, it would be Sabrina’s fault.
She clenched her fists and decided she was done lying around. She needed answers, but in order to do that, she needed to get free. It was time to find out if she was alone or not. She yelled, “Jorge Salazar, I’m awake, so get your ass in here.”
She waited one second, then another. Finally, the doorknob to her room turned and Jorge appeared in the doorway. “So, you’re awake.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I’m awake, asshole. And you’d better hope it’s only the next morning, or I will find a way to hurt you later.”
He merely raised an eyebrow. “Such big words from a lady currently tied to a bed. Have you ever considered being nice to me? That might work better at getting me on your side.”
“Says the man who drugged me.” She tugged on the restraints around her wrists. “Just answer me this: Is it only the next morning? And if so, what time is it?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It is. Why does the time matter?”
Okay, her headache was getting worse. “You know how I told you that I’ve been trying to bring the Fed League down since day one? Well, I have a contact that’s been helping me and I need to meet him.”
He moved toward her bed. “More secrets, Sabrina? What’s his name? And how can this man help you? Answer those questions, and I’ll consider letting you go so you can meet with him.”
“Just like that?” She gave him a skeptical look. “That’s way too easy. Now you’re the one who is hiding something.”
“I have a few other conditions, but just know that I have information on your waitress friend. That should encourage you to start talking.”
“Okay, fine.” Think, Sabrina, think. She’d have to tread carefully here. “His name is Juan Marquez. He has human friends with government connections. Watkins isn’t only on your shit-list—he’s wanted by the Mexican government.”
“And how do you fit into all of this?”
“Well, I know Juan through Yolanda.”
“The waitress? I watched you back in the restaurant before I approached you and you didn’t seem like you were all that buddy-buddy.”
“If there were even the slightest chance someone was watching you from the Fed League, would you want to act all buddy-buddy?”
“Good point.” He took out a small pocketknife from one of the pockets of his pants and opened it. “So, let’s say all of this is true. What are you supposed to meet and discuss with this Juan guy?”
She eyed the knife. She just needed to give him a little more information, and she might get free. “I’m close to getting Watkins, but I can’t do it alone. I need backup, and that’s where Juan comes in.”
“Do you trust him?”
“With my life.”
She swore she saw his jaw clench a second, but before she could blink, his face was relaxed again. He raised his knife and tapped the cloth restraints holding her arms with his blade as he said, “I can use all of the help I can get to capture Watkins, so I’ll let you meet with this Juan guy, provided you agree to my conditions.”
Great. Just what she needed. “They’d better not require me to be naked or for me to turn into your slave, because I can tell you right now that I’ll refuse.”
The corner of his lips twitched. “As much as I’d like you to be my naked sex slave, I was thinking more along the lines of you allowing me to shadow you to your meeting place to confirm your story. If it pans out, then your friend can help speed up our take-down of Watkins.”
She knew she should stay focused, but she couldn’t let Jorge’s lip twitching pass. Before she could stop herself, Sabrina asked, “Wait a second—were you about to smile?”
Jorge had, indeed, nearly cracked a smile at Sabrina’s flippant remark. Truth be told, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the urge.