Virna DePaul - Turned

He tilted his head, his expression almost chiding. “You have a problem with compensation for a job well done?”

She looked away and pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling foolish. Even so, she could still hear the prosecutor’s words from seven years ago, echoing in her head as if he was standing right next to her.

“Money. A few measly dollars. That’s why she did what she did, ladies and gentlemen. It’s why she stole. Sold drugs. Preyed on the weak and elderly. For cold, hard cash. Don’t let this young woman’s face fool you,” he’d said with disgust. “She’s a mercenary through and through.”

“Ana,” the man prompted softly.

She shot to her feet. “Don’t you know el dinero es la raíz de toda mal ?”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Money isn’t the root of all evil. Humans and other monsters have that covered all on their own. Money is just money.”

She ignored the latter part of his statement. “You speak Spanish quite well. I assume you learned in Europe. And your accent is British. So why aren’t you busy protecting England’s soil?”

“I’m half American on my father’s side. As to why I’m not in England? Because the monsters I’m hunting are here, not there.”

“What monsters?”

“Let’s just say that’s on a need-to-know basis. And until you agree to join the agency, you don’t need to know.”

“You know I’m not going to,” she said softly. “Stop playing games and tell me the information you have about Gloria. Where is she?”

Because Ana had no idea. Despite her sister’s clear instructions that she wanted to be left alone after the gang shooting so long ago, Ana had still needed to make sure her sister was okay. She’d worked hard in prison to earn computer privileges, and whenever she got the chance, she’d used her time to search online for Gloria. She’d even put up with one guard’s filthy innuendos and wandering hands for a time, just to make sure she didn’t lose computer access.

She’d combed through hospital records. Property records. Newspapers and gossip rags. Aside from the news stories that had covered the gang shooting itself, she’d found nothing. It was as if Gloria Garcia had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Ana had been forced to accept the truth. Gloria hadn’t just wanted to break ties with Ana—she’d wanted to vanish . Somehow, she’d made sure that no one, including Ana, could ever find her.

Just like always, the thought filled her with pain. Now, however, the pain was slightly muted, simply because the man in front of her required her total attention. He took up so much space, mentally and physically. It didn’t help that he still looked like he wanted to drag her under him and do all kinds of wicked things to her.

She felt her heart racing, in fear and in anticipation. Finally, his lips tightened and he banked the fire in his eyes. Silently, she let out a sigh of relief.

“Accept our offer,” he urged.

“And if I did, my tasks would be … what?”

“You’ll work missions, but you’ll also train other women.”

She couldn’t help it. Her eyes bugged out. The idea of her training women to be super agents was ludicrous. He’d shocked the hell out of her and she didn’t care if he knew. “What makes you think I have anything to teach anyone?”

He looked at her steadily. “The information we gather isn’t the sort people give out willingly. In fact, it’s the kind people kill for in order to protect.”

“So you kill them before they can kill you?” She’d never sign up for something like that. Gang life had been about protection and survival, not war. Not premeditated murder.

Whoa. Scratch that last thought. She had never committed murder, planned or unplanned. She’d never wanted to look too closely, but she’d always known how dangerous some of her fellow gang members could be—even to each other.

“Wrong. We avoid using force, and we avoid doing anything that would unnecessarily call attention to the agency. At the same time, our agents need to be prepared for any eventuality. They need the skills to blend in. To talk themselves out of trouble. And yes, if it’s absolutely necessary, to fight violence with violence.”

“What makes you think I’d risk breaking a nail, let alone my life, for some agency I never even knew existed?”

“Because I know more about you than you think. I know you’d do just about anything to see your sister again. Why not work for the right cause in the process?”

She shook her head. She didn’t believe in causes. Didn’t waste her time with volunteer work and trying to make the world a better place. The world was a minefield. You looked out for yourself or you got blown to kingdom come.

“Even if that’s true—and I’m not saying it is,” Ana said, “I’m not an expert in any of the things you just talked about.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’ve assumed a new identity, quite successfully, I might add. And you managed to make me hurt—and bleed—more than once,” he pointed out.

True, but still … he’d already proven quite thoroughly that anything she’d done to him was probably the result of him having let her do it. She chewed her lip, considering him. Considering what he offered. He seemed like he was on the up-and-up—crazy but legitimate.

Téa had told her often enough that she would get tired of rejecting human contact—but as a coffee shop owner-manager, Ana usually had so much human contact that by the end of the day she wanted to rip up her apron and run away into the Seattle sunset.

It was emotional contact she could use. And work that meant something. Her greatest achievement to date was learning how to correctly foam skim milk for half-caf double-shot supertalls at six bucks a pop. She still lived week to week. There was never enough to consider quitting and giving the search for Gloria all she had. Sure, Gloria had told her to leave her alone, but if Ana could find her, if they could see each other face-to-face, she knew their sisterly bond would take over, giving her a chance to talk sense into the other woman. They were family , for God’s sake.

Ana ached to hold Gloria again. To see the dimple on the side of her cheek when she smiled.

And to find out how everything had gone so wrong that day seven years ago, when her formal jump out of Primos Sangre had turned into a shoot-out.

She wanted her sister, damn it. But there was no denying she wanted more, too.

Ty said Belladonna paid well. What else was he offering?

He smiled at her.

Riiight.

Could she really relax enough to let someone in again? Even if it was simply to work with a team, to work with Ty and be treated with kindness and respect, to maybe even explore the sizzling attraction that flared to life whenever he touched her …

Her instincts fought against the idea. Her aching heart tugged her forward.

“Ana,” he said quietly. He walked toward her, his movements slow. Predatory. Primal. Jesus, he got to her. His strength was a natural part of him, just like his confidence.

“I’ve answered a few of your questions,” he said quietly. “Now I want an answer from you.”

What could he possibly want to know? Belladonna seemed to cross so many of the lines she had created for herself. If she accepted the job, what would she be asked to do? Was he going to ask whether she’d ever killed someone and would be willing to do so again? Whether she’d sold her body for money and would spread her legs for information? Whether she’d—

She stiffened as his gaze zeroed in on her face—one specific part of her face. A split second later, he asked, “Why haven’t you done anything about the scar?”