Your Next Breath

“Not without me,” he repeated. He looked her in the eye. “Absolutely not.”

 

 

And if she didn’t accept that help, he’d go in after Santos himself. His entire being was poised, ready, glittering like the dagger with which she’d stabbed Santos. “Okay, I won’t shut you out. But it probably won’t be in the way you might prefer. Give me a couple minutes to get my breath, then I’ll tell you what I need.” She gazed at the bronze door of the tomb. He was in there waiting for her. She could feel his waves of hatred, the frustration, the bloodlust.

 

Well, she had a bloodlust of her own.

 

I’m coming for you, bastard.

 

 

LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY

 

“Lambell?” Caleb shook his head. “Dorgal gave me five names and locations here in Louisville. None of them was Lambell, Hu Chang.”

 

“Then he lied,” Hu Chang said. “And it doesn’t matter. Catherine says that he exists and is a danger.” He headed for the door. “A Victorian house that’s at least a thousand feet from this one. Do you recall such a house, Sam?”

 

“Two blocks away. Three-story. Green shutters and trim,” Sam said. “It’s the only one within that distance.”

 

“I’m on my way,” Caleb said as he headed for the door. “Call me if you hear anything more from Catherine.”

 

“She called and asked my assistance,” Hu Chang said. “I do not appreciate being told to monitor the phone.”

 

“She told you to take care of Luke,” Caleb said. “How can you do that if you’re busy cutting that bastard’s throat? And Sam’s got to protect the house. I’m the outsider. Much better that you leave Lambell to me. I was getting restless anyway.”

 

“How could we tell that? Just because you’ve been prowling like a panther since you arrived here?” Hu Chang said. “Outsider. Yes, that describes you.” He shrugged. “Very well. I’m disappointed, but I yield to logic if not to your selfish desire to indulge yourself.” He stared him in the eye. “But do not fail her, Caleb. You do not want me to be displeased with you.”

 

“You won’t be.” Caleb smiled recklessly. “I’ve got it. Victorian house. Green trim. One shooter soon to be deceased.”

 

The door slammed behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER

 

16

 

 

 

“I’ll give you four minutes.” Cameron pushed Catherine back against the tomb. His face was taut, his eyes glittering as he stared down at her. “And that’s cutting it close. Then I’m coming in after you.”

 

“Whatever.” She met his eyes. “It should all be settled by that time anyway.” She smiled faintly. “Or it will be two minutes later.”

 

“Not funny.”

 

“No, you’re very serious. Not like you at all. You usually have a lighter touch.”

 

“I’m having a problem with watching you walk into that tomb when we don’t know what’s waiting for you.”

 

“Santos’s gun is lying there on the ground. He has my dagger, but he’ll have a tough time using it with that wounded hand.” She held up her Luger. “And I have a gun, and I’ll have no trouble using it.”

 

“Santos may have run back into that tomb for a reason.”

 

She shrugged. “Maybe he feels safe with his Delores.”

 

“Or maybe he’s setting a trap for you.”

 

“Possible.” She knew it was more than possible that Santos might have other weapons in that tomb. But she’d tried to distract Cameron from dwelling on it. Obviously not with any degree of success. “But I won’t know if you keep me pinned to this tomb instead of letting me go inside.” She pushed him away from her and slipped away. “It’s going to be all right, Cameron. It’s not as if we didn’t know this was going to happen. It was always in the cards. Now stop treating me as if I don’t know what I’m doing.” She moved quickly toward the bronze door. “Four minutes.”

 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get yourself killed before that,” he said roughly. “You be careful, you stay alive. Do you hear me?”

 

“I hear you.” She gave him a faint smile over her shoulder. “I’ll do my best to obey. Now get out of here and do your job.” She pressed to one side of the door and drew a deep breath.

 

Throw the door wide.

 

Go in low and fast.

 

Count to three.

 

One.

 

Her hand closed on the bronze handle.

 

Two.

 

Position.

 

Three.

 

She threw the door wide, bent low, and dove through the doorway! She rolled on the floor behind the shelter of one of the gilt throne chairs.

 

And a bullet splintered the wood next to her head!

 

Santos did have a gun.

 

“Welcome, Catherine, I’ve been waiting for you. You took long enough.” Santos’s voice was mocking. “Were you afraid?”

 

“Of whom? You? That corpse?” She moved to the side. “You’re cornered like the rat you are. Your Delores is nothing, nonexistent.”

 

“Liar. Stupid bitch. She does exist.”

 

Another shot, this time striking the floor beside her leg.

 

The shot had come from somewhere behind that glass coffin. Make him speak so that she could judge the exact direction.

 

“Where did you get the gun, Santos?”

 

“Delores. Do you think I’d put her to rest without her favorite weapon? She loved this gun. I bought it for her in Paris, then gave her a target to practice on. She made him last four days, almost tore him apart.” He paused. “She had it the day you killed her. It took Dorgal weeks to negotiate that gun away from the police. But I placed it in a pearl-and-gold case on the table by the coffin.”

 

From the sound of his voice, Santos had to be near the foot of the coffin.

 

“Touching. Very touching. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your using it as she would.” She got off a shot.

 

He muttered a curse.

 

She must have been close.

 

She heard him moving. To the left, perhaps beside that oak table …

 

Bring him out in the open.

 

“Let’s see how durable that coffin is,” she said. “How does it withstand bullets?”

 

She fired four shots in rapid succession at the coffin.