Page 16 of Wait for You

The dance floor had filled with costumed revelers after the band began playing. The upbeat tempo of a salsa shook the wallsall the way to the beamed rafters. Imogen took in the scene, then glanced at his hand and chewed her lip.

Knowing she’d need some convincing, he stepped into her space. Bending down, he buried his nose in the feathers and hair near her ear and spoke, “I have a cover to maintain. Right now, you’re part of that. It needs to look like we’re enjoyin’ ourselves.”

He was close enough to feel her shiver as his breath caressed her neck. Her words might push him away, but her body told another story. The way she responded lit him up from the inside. It was more potent than if he’d snorted a line of coke—or so he imagined. He’d seen the drug’s effects onEl Jaguaroften enough to understand its potency.

Instead of speaking, she nodded. Stepping back, Mat took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. The atmosphere in the room was tense despite the revelry. Everyone knew something was up; this type of gathering was rare, and there had to be news to share. But the Lazcanos wouldn’t like what it was when they found out.

The music shifted into a ballad as soon as his feet hit the parquet. Pulling Imogen close, Mat lost himself in the music. With her in his arms, the world stopped turning. The only thing that mattered was how right it felt.

The night flew by between dancing with Imogen and keeping her out of trouble. Whenever she tried to weasel away to talk to someone dangerous, he swept her onto the dance floor. Minutes or hours later, an agitated shout rang out. Then, a collective hush fell over the gathering.

Mat woke up from the trance he’d slipped into. As if Imogen really were a goddess and she’d transfixed him with the music. “Dammit! It’s startin’.”

Confusion crinkled the paint on her face. “What’s starting?”

“The lieutenant’s scare tactics.” Grabbing Imogen’s hand, he pushed through the crowd. “C’mon.” There was no time to takeher back to her room. Not whenEl Jaguarexpected him front and center. “I’m sorry, Gen,” Mat whispered as he hugged her into his side, where they’d stopped in front of the open French doors.

The partygoers spread out behind them, ready to watch the spectacle. Like the ringmaster in a circus, the lieutenant stood in the center of the courtyard, waiting. A wooden post arranged among a pile of logs towered next to him. He caught Mat’s eye and gestured for him to take up his position.

Understanding it was time to play his part, Mat moved to the corner so that he could watch the cartel as they took in the show. Dragging Imogen with him, he shoved her behind him to block her from view.

El Jaguarbegan to address the cartel members in Spanish. What started with an acknowledgment of Carnival morphed into a warning as he spoke about the tradition of burning an effigy dubbed “mal humor.” But this Carnival, it wasn’t a bad mood they would be dispensing with; it was “el traidor”—the traitor.

A gasp rushed through the masses, and Mat tensed. If anyone got a twitchy finger, he’d have to act. The lieutenant frowned, and the crowd settled as if realizing their misstep. Amidst the studied calm,El Jaguargestured toward the alcove on everyone’s left. Mat knew what was coming. He’d procured a very life-like effigy for the lieutenant to burn as the traitor.

He murmured to Imogen, “Don’t watch.”

But whenEl Jaguar’smen appeared with the effigy, it wasn’t the one Mat had provided. Not even close.

The courtyard became as silent as a tomb. Not a person, nor even an insect, made a sound. Fear strangled everything. Even the stars in the sky stopped twinkling in their horror.

This traitor wasn’t made of wax. It was flesh and blood.

CHAPTER 6

Mateo

Son of a bitch!

If he’d had any idea thatEl Jaguarhad been planning an execution, Mat never would’ve let Imogen come to the party.

Behind him, he heard her gasp and grab the bottom of his costume jacket in her fist. Mat reached back and squeezed her hand without taking his eyes off the spectacle. He’d leave with her right now if it wouldn’t put them both in danger. His heart raced in panic. He felt trapped—useless—but he couldn’t let it show on his face.

Not when the lieutenant watched him as two enforcers dragged a hooded man toward the pyre. His fancy shoes scraped against the flagstones in desperation as he thrashed, uselessly hoping to escape. The man’s cries sounded muffled and unintelligible; he likely wore a gag under the burlap sack on his head.

The group had made it halfway to the lieutenant when the hooded man stumbled, falling to his knees with enough force to topple one of the men restraining him. Before Mat even had a chance to blink, flash bangs rocked the ballroom behind them, and pandemonium ensued. Screams, gunfire, and smoke filled the air.

With the pall over the crowd broken, chaos erupted; he pulled Imogen close to keep her from getting trampled as peoplepushed forward. His ears rang from the explosions, making it difficult to tell where the fight came from. While he tried to orient himself, people rushed the courtyard exits, desperate to flee what could only be some form of law enforcement.

Dammit!

Mat couldn’t afford to get picked up and squander over a year of undercover work if this was a raid. Not when he was so close to finishing it. If he lost his connection to the lieutenant now, he’d never find the Lazcano’s chemist. But how could he maintain his cover to protect the lieutenant and get Imogen to safety at the same time?

He had no idea. Thankfully, he didn’t have to face that problem becauseEl Jaguarwas gone. Searching the courtyard and the sea of people, Mat noted the hooded man and the men who’d escorted him were nowhere in sight either.

Probably fled through his tunnel.

But the lieutenant’s tunnel wasn’t the only one leading out of the house. He’d had plenty of time to find all the mansion’s escape routes, and he was pretty sureEl Jaguardidn’t even know about the one he planned to use.

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