CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

October 3, 12:00 P.M.

Cusco, Peru

ZARA WAS A BEAUTIFUL, brilliant, evil genius, and she had proven the latter fact to Cash and everyone involved repeatedly over the past weeks. He hated to admit she’d been one step ahead of him throughout this whole crystal relic fiasco, or that she apparently knew he had arrived in Cusco, and Diego recuperated in a hospital in Buenos Aires. They were now aware of her general location, but only because she chose to divulge the information. He recited the message over and over in his head.

Sorry to hear about the unfortunate mishap. I’m anxious to meet for lunch at our favorite tavern tomorrow. It’s your turn to buy, so bring Cash, they don’t take credit cards. Make sure to get a table for two. Love, Zara.

The cocky tone of the note scalded him, but it also brought back a flood of memories. The last time he visited Cusco was on his and Zara’s first assignment together. He remembered sitting in this tavern, staring into her intoxicating green eyes. Young, idealistic, and enchanted with his exotic new partner, she exuded danger and excitement and an inexplicable allure he was helpless to resist. He’d been hooked from the moment they met and never hesitated when he broke the rule against getting involved with one’s partner. He had mistakenly thought they shared a great deal in common with the way they approached their jobs and life, and she had clearly been as attracted to him as he was to her, making the relationship inevitable.

“Thinking of the first time I seduced you?”

Cash looked up, trying to hide the emotions flooding through him. He never expected to see her again, and even after learning she was still alive, he convinced himself the past was the past, and he felt only loathing. She must be brought to justice, just like any other criminal, but with Zara nothing ever happened without drama and risk.

For years he carried around the guilt for letting her die without a chance to defend herself. At one time, he truly believed that he loved her. Now, when he thought about the massacred villagers, Ian, and Olivia, he wondered how he could have been so naïve and wished she had stayed dead. This time, her death wouldn’t be an accident. Taking her into custody alive to stand trial wasn’t an option. Like a jaguar, to cage her would be to kill her spirit. She would force him to finish the job.

“You still drink chicha when you’re in Peru?” Cash asked as he motioned for the waiter.

Zara nodded and smiled. “She’s quite lovely and gentle, not your usual type. A shame Mustafa bruised her satin cheek. The nasty lump she got on her head as she hit the floor must hurt a lot.”

Cash ignored her comment, though knowing Olivia had been harmed sent a surge of rage through him, making him contemplate violence as he had never experienced before. When he finally came face-to-face with Mustafa, he vowed to make the man sorry to be alive.

The waiter set two tall glasses of chicha, a traditional Peruvian drink made from fermented corn, on the table. Cash lifted his glass to his lips and glared at Zara, still unable to believe she was alive. She looked the same as he remembered, and sitting across the table from her felt like he had stepped back in time.

“What do you want?”

“You never were big on foreplay, but I’m truly hurt that you don’t want to know how I’ve been since you left me for dead.”

Cash wanted nothing more than to end it now, but if he made a move, one of Zara’s men would carry out her instruction to kill or torture Olivia. Until Zara got whatever she sought, Olivia would be kept alive; though he harbored no illusions she was receiving decent treatment.

“What do you want?” Cash demanded again.

Zara sipped her chicha, the smile fading from her lips. “Very well, if you have no desire to reminisce about old times, I guess I’ll get straight to the point. I hold all but two of the thirteen legendary crystals. I think your little blonde friend found one in Argentina, and if you don’t already possess the last, you have a good idea where the object is located.”

Cash took a slow deliberate drink and stared at Zara, but said nothing.

“You’re a softy for civilians, especially those as pretty as Olivia. So if you want to save her from an agonizing death, you will hand over the relics.”

“I don’t have them.”

“But you can get them. You think one is in Cusco, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Cash shrugged and drained his glass.

“I’m feeling generous. You’ve got twelve hours to find what you came to Cusco for. Meet me back here at midnight, alone, and hand over the crystals, or I give Olivia to Heinrich to do with as he pleases. You met Heinrich in Arizona, I believe. He is quite smitten with the lovely Olivia.”

Cash stood abruptly to leave. He couldn’t listen to any more of Zara’s threats against Olivia without doing something foolish.

Zara followed, grabbing his arm, forcing him to turn around. He flinched, unsure if from the pain of his many injuries, or from her familiar touch, so he pushed the reaction out of his mind. He had no doubt Zara meant every word and with her there was no room to negotiate. Everything always occurred her way, or no way at all.

“Do we understand each other?” She smiled as she poked Cash’s sore ribs.

“I guess the next round is on you,” Cash said as pulled from her grasp and strode out of the tavern, feeling the burn of Zara’s eyes on his back.