I sang to him until the sun began to rise, until we anchored at a small island with forested hills that sloped seaward to meet sandy white beaches. As far as I could make out, there were no buildings on the island, no roads, or cars, or telephone lines.
The men carried Damian from the boat to a small villa hidden among the palm trees. Damian groaned as they lay him on the flamingo colored couch. I was amazed he’d lasted through the night. No one could lose that much blood and survive. Rafael seemed to think otherwise.
“You’re going to pull through, Damian. You hear me?” he said, even though Damian had turned pale and unresponsive. He sent Manuel off on the boat to obtain medical supplies, while he rifled through the first aid kit.
He had the same dark complexion as Damian, but that’s where the similarities ended. Rafael was a few inches taller with light hair and green eyes. He didn’t wear ugly, generic clothes. His t-shirt was made of fine, pure cotton and the seams were zigzagged to lie flat and straight. His watch cost more than Damian’s boat, and his shoes . . . his shoes reminded me of the ones I’d seen on Damian when he’d abducted me. Soft, hand-tooled, Italian leather.
I tried to make sense of what had happened. It occurred to me that Damian had been talking to Rafael when the storm hit. It was possible that the two of them had already planned this meeting point. Rafael had been close enough to intercept us, and this location was too remote to just be chanced upon. When I’d called on the radio, it was set to the channel they’d been using to communicate, but anyone could have tuned in, so Rafael had asked me to switch to the phone.
“He should have finished you off.” Rafael looked at me pointedly as he stitched up the gash on Damian’s head.
“He was taking me to see MaMaLu.” If Damian died, I knew I was in bigger trouble with Rafael. I didn’t know who he was or how they were connected, but I needed to find a way to keep afloat. The one thing I had going for me was the call I’d made to my father. He knew I was alive, and satellite phones use GPS. It wouldn’t take long to trace the number and narrow down the search area.
“Damian was taking you to Paza del Mar?” Rafael’s brows shot up. “He never takes anyone to see her.”
“You know MaMaLu?” I asked. At least I knew where she was now.
“I’ve known Damian since he was twelve. We grew up together. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
“So if something happens to him . . . if he dies . . . you’ll keep his promise? You’ll take me to MaMaLu?”
Rafael finished stitching Damian up before replying. “Do I look like your chauffer?” He took a step towards me. “Your butler?” Another step. “Your fucking concierge?” He spat down at me. “You don’t give a shit about Damian or MaMaLu. So don’t pretend you want to see MaMaLu when all you’re trying to do is save your own ass. You live in your high and mighty castle with your high and mighty head in the clouds. The only person you look out for is you, because you’re nothing but a spoiled brat. Well, guess what?” He pulled out his gun and held it to my temple. “I’m not going to let Damian take the fall. He might have gone soft on you, but your luck just ran out, Ms. Skye and Mighty Sedgewick. We’re going to end this. Right now.” He nudged me towards the door.
“But, I—” My eyes drifted to Damian. He was lost in uneasy sleep.
“He can’t save you now, princess,” said Rafael. “March. Out back.”
We walked through the wraparound verandah, past the coconut palms and into the jungle.
“Stop. Right here,” said Rafael, when we came to a small clearing.
I was facing away from him, looking down at my shadow on the sandy mound. It was long and thin in the setting sun. Rafael stepped behind me. Together we looked like long-limbed aliens, with one ready to zap the other into another galaxy.