Maybe the fact that it was one of her tormentor’s blood made it less horrific.

From what I gather from the sounds, the men have reached the place where Ramon, Culebra and Max stayed the night. I listen intently but the men don’t appear to be talking. They must be a well-trained gang of thugs, not wanting to give away their location. I imagine them searching the ground, finding the discarded wrappers and the empty water bottles. Now comes the tricky part.

Will they see where Max and I found Adelita hiding in the thicket, or will my more obvious tracks draw them away?

In a moment, I have my answer. They start in my direction.

Good.

A glance at my watch.

All I have to do now is keep them occupied for eight hours.

I wait until they reach the side of the road. I want to see who is leading the hunting party. They gather and stop in the cover of brush, whispering and pointing toward the rocks, the beams of a half dozen LED flashlights crisscrossing in front of them.

Then they step into the road.

It’s no surprise when I recognize the man in front, or when I hear his familiar voice call out.

“Come on out, Max,” Ramon says. “We have Culebra. It will go easier on both of you if you come out now.”

He doesn’t mention me. Either he hasn’t yet been in contact with Maria or he doesn’t want to let Max know that I’ve followed.

I consider my options. I could pick them off one by one with the rifle in Max’s bag.

No. Better to lead them on a merry chase away from the village, give Max more time to get away.

One thing I can do, though. Finish the job I started this morning.

I grab one of the grenades. Pull the pin. Toss it onto the burned-out bed of the truck.

The flash of the grenade flying through the air is caught by the searching flashlights. The men dive back into the brush.

The grenade explodes, flinging bits of wood from the truck’s side panels and charred bodies in a wide arc and reigniting the fuel that was left in the gas tank.

Now not even Horatio Caine could piece together what’s left.

A cry goes up from the group. Excited exclamations in Spanish. Evidently a piece of wood from the truck flew straight into one of the men. He staggers out into the road, flanked on either side by two buddies trying to drag him back into the brush. He’s fighting them. There’s a long, slender splinter no wider than an arrow projecting from his chest in front and out his back. The two trying to get him out of the road give up quickly and leave him to take cover again. The wounded man makes it no more than three or four steps before he collapses.

I don’t know how he keeps going but he raises himself onto his knees, grasps the wooden spear with two hands and pulls.

His scream hangs in the air longer than it takes the blood to drain from his body.

I watch the man die, feeling nothing, my mind a blank slate. No. That isn’t entirely true. I do have a thought.

One down . . .

THERE’S MORE MURMURING GOING ON BEHIND the cover of brush at the side of the road. The gist seems to be an argument between the men who want to continue after Max (or who they think is Max) and the ones who think they should go back for reinforcements.

Ramon is clear what he wants to do. I hear him arguing that it’s only one man for god’s sake. But the counterargument is pretty compelling.

It’s one of their own lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the road.

I don’t wait to see who’s going to win. I grab the duffel and start running away from the rocks and in a direction away from the village. If Ramon wins the argument, I want to leave a trail for him to follow. Tracks and when the ground gets rocky, small branches scattered along the way. I want it to look like a man running for his life.

After about fifteen minutes, I stop to listen.

I don’t hear anything.

Shit.

They aren’t following. My plan to get them going in the wrong direction so I could double back to the village isn’t working. I guess the fear that Max had more grenades in that duffel convinced them they needed to amp up the firepower, too.

Damn it. At least it gives Max and Adelita more time to get away.

I backtrack along my own trail, this time not crossing back into the brush, but continuing along the road, careful to keep out of sight. It doesn’t take long to overtake Ramon and his gang. Ramon is once more in the lead but he walks like a man rigid with anger that he couldn’t convince the others to follow him after Max.

They’re moving along the road, on the opposite side from me. To a man, they keep swiveling their heads and flashlights back the way they’ve come, on alert for an ambush from behind.

I pick up speed. I can easily beat them to the village. If I’m lucky, I can reach out to Culebra, find out where they’re holding him, cut him loose before Ramon makes it back. One vampire can outrun an army of men.

And I do. I reach the outskirts of the village in minutes. It’s very quiet, though something is different from the first time I approached the village. A lookout is posted near the well. He’s in the shadows, but the glowing tip of a cigarette gives him away. I make my way around him soundlessly to the shack where I saw Adelita and the girls.

There’s a guard here now, too. Squatting down with his back against the wall of the shack, rifle resting on his lap. I send out a mental probe.

Culebra?

I’m here.

He doesn’t sound hurt or scared. He sounds pissed. What happened?

Fucking Ramon. Coldcocked me as soon as we got to the village.

How’d he do that? I thought you were suspicious of him?

Not suspicious enough, obviously. Or on my guard the way I should have been. Where are you?

About fifty feet from the shack, in some bushes.

Is Max with you? He didn’t get Max, too, did he?

No. I give him a Reader’s Digest version of what happened. About how I sent him away with Adelita so she would be safe. He’s going to come back, but it will be eight hours at least.

I let a minute go by before asking. I know there are more girls. Are they with you?

No. The anger is back, radiating through his thoughts. They moved them to another shack. He’s with them.

Santiago?

Not the Santiago we’re after. His bastard brother, Luis.

Who the hell is Luis?

A decoy. Culebra’s mind radiates dark anger. A trap set by Ramon.

Why? What happened to protecting his family?

He is protecting his family. Santiago made him a deal he couldn’t refuse. Me in exchange for the life of his wife and daughter.

Santiago wants you? After all this time? You must have really pissed him off.

When Culebra doesn’t answer right away, I get the feeling there’s something more he’s hiding about his past. Something he wants to keep hidden. There’ll be time to find out what it is later.

So, shape-shift. Get yourself out of there. The men heading back for the village will leave again to go after Max. I’ve laid a false trail. When Max gets back, we’ll go in after the girls. I’m not leaving them. I saw what they did to Adelita.

Culebra remains shut down. Whether he’s considering what I said or coming up with his own plan isn’t coming through. Finally he says, I’m staying put. At least for the time being. I might pick up something from Luis or the guards that gives us an idea where his brother is. We’ve got nothing but time until Max gets back anyway. May as well see if I can learn something useful.

What if Ramon comes back and decides to kill you?

Culebra’s dry chuckle resonates in his head, transmits itself to me.