Cassidy didn’t note what was missing until it struck her that there were only men in this bar, no women in sight. The drug runners all were white Americans, and Cassidy saw no white Americans here. Everyone was native, and no one looked up when she swept her gaze around the cantina.
Very odd. Cassidy should stand out like a sudden wash of water in a desert.
She left the first cantina without pausing and walked on down the street toward the second, and larger, one. Her Shifter senses were very aware of Diego, Xav, and Shane in the shadows, watching. The three men were too wound up for this. Eric would have been a ghost.
Cassidy’s personal plan was a bit different from the one the males had discussed. She’d find the dealers all right, but she’d make them pay for what they’d done to Diego in a more basic way. This town was far from human law courts and rule books, which was why criminals tried to hide out here, and so, Cassidy would apply Shifter law.
The men they stalked had killed Diego’s best friend plus shot Diego and left him for dead. Cassidy’s mate bond was building for Diego, and these men would learn what happened to people who hurt a female Shifter’s mate.
She walked casually into the next cantina. Men in this one lifted their heads and watched her, but they looked more worried than curious.
Strange. Cassidy was a young woman alone, obviously way out of her territory, and they looked worried.
One of the drug runners Diego sought was sitting at the bar. His skin was sunburned, and he’d grown a scratchy beard, but she recognized him from his photo. He was a big man, almost as big as Shane, and much of the skin his biker vest showed was inked.
The man saw Cassidy and gave her a hard stare as she approached the bar.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said to her in English.
Cassidy ignored him, rested her arms on the bar, and spoke to the bartender behind it. “Do you understand English, señor? Do you have a phone I can use?”
She smiled at him, trying to look like a clueless tourist who’d taken a very wrong turn while heading for her beach resort. The bartender looked blank. The man in the biker vest spoke to him in rapid Spanish.
The bartender shook his head. “No, señorita. No teléfono.”
Cassidy turned her smile on the biker. “Do you have a cell phone? Can I borrow it?”
He was supposed to smile back at her. Leer, actually. Suggest he let her use the phone outside or somewhere more private. Instead, the man clutched his bottle of beer.
“You should get out. Out of here, out of town. Fast.”
“Why?” Cassidy asked, sitting down. “I like this place. So festive.”
“Cassidy…” came Diego’s whisper in her earpiece.
“Maybe you could take a look at my car,” she said to the biker. “See what’s wrong with it?”
The man perked up. “You have a car?”
“Yes. It broke down. I’m so happy I was close to this town. The map I had made no sense at all…”
The biker abandoned his seat with amazing speed and closed beefy fingers around Cassidy’s arm. His grip was hard, but the look in his eyes was the wild one of a man who’d abandoned hope and then suddenly found it dangling in front him.
“Take me to your car. Hurry. I’ll fix it, and then you’ll need to get the hell out of here. But only if you promise to take me with you.”
Cassidy looked him up and down, pretending to be a silly rich woman contemplating giving a ride to her auto mechanic. “I don’t know. I had it detailed before I drove down here.”
“Please.”
The man was big, taller than Cassidy, but she smelled the fear on him. Waves and waves of fear.
She likewise scented fear on the second biker who came into the cantina, another of the gang Diego hunted. The second man frowned at his friend, then at Cassidy. “What are you doing?”
“She has a car,” the first man said to him.
“Yes, and I need help fixing it,” Cassidy said. “Does this road go back to Mazatlan?”
The second man gave the first a warning look. “You sure he didn’t send her?”
Cassidy blinked. “Sure who didn’t send me?”
“I don’t think so, man,” the first biker said. “Look, she needs to get out of here, and so do we.”
The first man started steering Cassidy out of the cantina. Cassidy nearly gagged on the smell of his fear, but she guided him down the street, toward the jeep waiting with Diego in the darkness.
Both men walked fast, propelling her along. She noticed they also made sure to stick to deep shadow, letting no stray light from any of the crumbling buildings touch them.
“Maybe I should stay here for the night,” Cassidy said. “Is there a resort anywhere nearby?”
“No, sweetie,” man number two said. “I’ll drive you to a resort. Any resort you want. Promise. Now, where’s your car?”
“There.” Cassidy pointed to the jeep, waiting alone.
Both men rushed for it, and Cassidy had to run to reach it with them. The first man jumped into the driver’s seat. “Keys?”
“Here somewhere.” Cassidy pretended to fumble in her pockets.
“Never mind.” The man reached under the steering wheel, ready to break his way in.
And found Diego’s shotgun in his face.
“I knew it,” the second man said, his voice a terrified whisper. Shane and Xavier closed behind him. “It was him.”
The first man was just as terrified, but not because of Diego’s gun. Both men were looking straight at Shane, and the fear in their eyes was boundless.
Diego cocked his weapon. “Do you remember me?” His voice was quiet.
The first man stared back at him, first in mindless panic, then in recognition. “Shit!”
His friend swung around, saw Diego, swallowed. “Aw, man. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.”
The first man put his hands on top of his head, in perfect position for someone being arrested. “No, man, it’s OK. He’s a cop. He’ll arrest us and get us out of here. We surrender, all right?”
Diego exchanged a glance with Cassidy. Cassidy shrugged. “Something’s scared them bad,” she said, “and it’s not you.”
“I’m hoping it’s me,” Shane said.
“Come on, let’s go,” the first man said. “Before he finds out.”
He, again.
“Where are your friends?” Diego asked, not moving the gun. “My intel said there were four of you down here. I want you all.”