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 stunned.
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 running down from her split lip to her chin as she finally stood before him. She glared at him defiantly. “It was worth it, you know. Has anyone else ever spit in your ugly face?”
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 planned, Catherine thought. In this moment, she could believe that it would only be a matter of time before Delores would be able to conquer the ravages of death.
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.”
“No!” His lips curled. “You fool. You can’t touch her. I’ll kill your son. Then I’ll kill you and lay you on the floor beside her coffin. You’ll rot there, while she goes on forever. I’ll come and visit here, and Delores and I will laugh.”
“I don’t doubt you’d make the attempt, since you’re completely wacko.” She put her right arm half behind her as she took a step closer to the casket. “But I imagine she’d have problems with changing expressions, wouldn’t she? Did Montez fix that, too? Let me take a closer look…”
“Don’t touch that glass.” His hand grasped her shoulder, and he jerked her back. “Keep away from her.”
“Whatever you say.” She moved her arm so that he wouldn’t touch the dagger in her sleeve. “It sounded as if you wanted us to be best buddies.”
“I don’t want your foulness near her. Not until you’re—”
Kaboom.
The explosion caused the tomb to shake.
Santos froze. “What the hell?”
He grabbed Catherine’s arm and jerked her out of the tomb. His gaze flew up the hill.
Flames. Smoke.
The house that must have been Santos’s residence was almost entirely destroyed, flames clawing the night sky. Pablo was giving orders to the two men with him as he ran up the hill toward the house.
Kaboom.
Another explosion.
The bunkhouse?
“Venable?” Santos screamed. “I’ll kill that bastard, Pablo. He swore he wasn’t followed to the island.”
“Not Venable.” She jerked her arm away from him. She jabbed her elbow in his belly with all her force. He bent double with pain. “And Pablo didn’t lie.” She dove around the side of the tomb just as Santos fired a shot that ricocheted off the granite.
Another explosion down at the beach.
“Come back here, Catherine,” Santos said. “Blow up everything in sight, and I’ll still win. Because I’m taking out my phone. I’m dialing a number … In two minutes, your son will be dead.”
“No.” She let her dagger drop down her sleeve into her hand.
Position. Throw.
Aim for the hand holding the phone.
“You heard her,” Cameron said from the road behind Santos. “She said no. It’s not going to happen.”
He dove forward and tackled Santos, knocking the gun from his hand.
Thank God.
Catherine moved from behind the tomb.
But Santos had his hands around Cameron’s throat. Her hand tightened on her dagger.
Cameron kneed him in the groin, and when his grip loosened, he flipped him over his head.
Santos crashed against the side of the tomb and slid down to the ground. He lifted his head dazedly. Then as he saw Catherine, his face contorted with rage. He reached for his phone again.
She was on him in seconds, her dagger pinning his hand to the ground.
He screamed!
“No way.” She bent down, and her eyes gazed fiercely into his own. “You’re not going to touch my son. Not now. Not ever.”
“The hell I’m not.” He screamed again as he jerked the dagger out of his hand and ran back toward the entrance of the tomb.
“Dammit, get out of the way, Catherine.” Cameron’s gun was aimed at Santos. “You’re blocking my shot.”
“Let him go.” She watched Santos disappear into the tomb again. “He’s not going anywhere. There’s no back door to the tomb. He’s trapped in there with his Delores. I’ll go after him in a minute. Give me your phone. I’ve got to call Hu Chang.”
“Why are you—”
“Now!” He took one look at her strained expression and tossed her his phone.
Her hand was shaking as she dialed Hu Chang. She started speaking as soon as he answered. “I can’t talk more than a minute. Don’t let Luke go to his room. If he’s there, get him out. Dammit, I don’t know where else in the house he’ll be safe. Not near any window. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you. Now slow down and tell me why.”
“No time. A Victorian house over a thousand yards from my house. The attic. A shooter named Lambell. Did you get all that?”
“I’ve got it. Are you safe?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. I’ll call you when I know for sure.” She hung up.
Safe. Luke would be safe.
As safe as she and Hu Chang could make him.
“Lambell?” Cameron repeated.
“A surprise from Santos. His ace in the hole. But I think Hu Chang will be able to block it.” She was trying to catch her breath as she glanced at Cameron, then up at the burning hillside. “It appears you decided to blow up the island. Is there going to be anything left?”