Grandmother peered around with confusion, but her gaze sharpened as it landed on the face of the man in whose arms she lay, and she demanded, “Who are you?”
Sarita moved closer, drawing her attention and offered a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, abuela. He’s my . . .” She hesitated and then finished with “friend,” frowning even as she said the weak word. It should fit, but Domitian had already become more than that to her. The problem was she wasn’t sure what that more was.
“Sarita, dear, turn out the light before Ramsey’s man sees it,” Mrs. Dressler ordered.
She glanced toward the woman, and then stepped over to the wall and flicked off the light her grandmother had just turned on. But a vision of Elizabeth Dressler was burned into the back of her eyes as she did. The woman was in a wheelchair, not a seat, and there was a terrible scar down the side of her face. A face that otherwise seemed familiar to Sarita despite never having seen her before even in pictures. While she’d sent pictures every time they were requested by her grandmother—which was several times a year—when Sarita had requested one in return she’d been told her grandmother didn’t have a camera.
“Set me down. I can stand!”
Sarita bit her lip at her grandmother’s cantankerous order and turned to look to where the two had been before the lights went out again, but she couldn’t see a darned thing. She was completely blind now after the intrusion of the bright light. Her eyes needed to adjust again, she supposed, and then frowned as she realized Domitian hadn’t responded to the demand and her grandmother hadn’t repeated it, yet she could hear movement. Guessing he’d used some of that mind control business to soothe her grandmother and prevent further protest, he was probably now carrying her around to set her on the couch. Sarita decided to find her own way back to the couch.
Reaching forward tentatively and finding nothing in her path, she moved forward, sure the back of the couch wasn’t far away.
“Look out the window, Thorne dear, and be sure your father’s man didn’t notice the light going on and off. He might come to investigate,” Elizabeth Dressler murmured and Sarita stilled, her ears straining for the sounds of movement. She hadn’t seen anyone else in the room when the lights had gone on, but she hadn’t really looked anywhere but at her grandmother and Mrs. Dressler.
Something brushed against her arm, and Sarita stiffened and turned her head. She smelled a hint of sea breeze and jungle and then a shadow moved in front of the window to the left of the front door, and she caught her breath at the misshapen silhouette revealed. Instead of a head and shoulders, it looked like Thorne had three heads, or a head and two humps, she thought. She glanced around with surprise when someone touched her arm.
“This way,” Domitian said softly, drawing her to the right and in front of the couch again. He steered her along the couch and then urged her to sit. “Your abuela is on your left.”
“Thank you,” Sarita murmured as she settled on the cushions and then felt a hand on her arm. Knowing it was her grandmother reaching for her, she covered the hand with her own, but glanced back to the window only to see that the silhouette was gone.
“He doesn’t appear to have noticed anything amiss,” a voice as deep as Domitian’s announced near where Mrs. Dressler sat.
“What are you doing here, Chiquita?” her grandmother asked unhappily as Sarita felt Domitian settle on the couch next to her.
“I came for you,” Sarita said apologetically, squeezing her grandmother’s hand in the darkness.
“Oh, such a good girl,” her grandmother crooned sadly and Sarita caught a whiff of roses and then found herself pulled into the soft embrace of a much shorter and rounder woman as she added, “But I don’t understand. Why?”
Sarita hugged her back, closing her eyes as a wave of emotion rolled over her. It had been two years since she’d had the love and comfort of family. Forcing back the overwhelming feelings, she cleared her throat and explained, “Dr. Dressler called and said you fell and hurt yourself.”
“Fell?” her grandmother asked, pulling back as if she were trying to see her face to verify she’d heard her right.
Since Sarita couldn’t see her grandmother, she doubted very much that the old woman could see her, so she said, “Yes. He said he was worried that there could be complications and felt my visiting might help you get through this.”
“But I haven’t fallen,” Maria Reyes said with a confusion that soon turned to vexation as she added, “The old bastardo! What is he up to now?”
“Nothing good, I’m sure,” Elizabeth Dressler said wearily and then asked, “But if he invited you to the island, why did you have to swim from the little island?”
“You were on the little island?” her grandmother asked.
“Si,” Sarita answered, squeezing her hand and then said, “I was here first. When I arrived I was told you were in the hospital and would be back on the island soon and I should wait. But the third day I was here, he knocked me out and I woke up on the little island with Domitian. We think we were supposed to be part of some kind of experiment,” she admitted, but didn’t explain that she thought it had to do with sex. It was her grandmother after all.
“Then you are one of the hybrids,” Elizabeth Dressler growled, sounding furious. “And you were probably privy to what was going on the whole time.”
Sarita stilled, at first thinking she meant her, but then the woman added, “What did Ramsey want you to do to our Sarita?” The question had barely ended before she snapped, “Thorne, restrain him.”
“No,” Sarita barked, practically throwing herself across Domitian’s lap. “He’s not with Dressler, he’s here to catch him.”
“What?” Mrs. Dressler gasped.
There was suddenly absolute silence in the room as if everyone had frozen and Sarita frowned with frustration, wishing there was some light so she could see where everyone was and what they were doing. Especially Thorne.
Hoping the stillness meant they would listen and leave Domitian alone, Sarita straightened to sit next to him again and explained, “People have been going missing from North America. Enough that it was noticed, and a—” she hesitated and then said “—a special policing team was put together to find out who was taking them, why, and where they were taken to. This team tracked the disappearances to Caracas and Dr. Dressler, but by the time they got here, Dressler had taken a sabbatical from the university and retreated to the island. They were able to find out he had an island, but not where it was. Apparently there’s no record of his owning an island.”
“He bought it under my maiden name,” Mrs. Dressler said. “Elizabeth Salter. I didn’t understand why at the time, but it was probably for just this sort of eventuality. The man is always thinking ten steps ahead of everyone else,” she finished bitterly.
“Oh,” Sarita breathed and glanced instinctively to Domitian. She couldn’t see his expression, but when he squeezed her hand, she turned back. “Well, they didn’t catch that, so sent teams out in boats to scout the islands. But eight of their people went missing during the searches and they were no closer to finding the island, so Domitian agreed to accept a job from Dressler to be a chef on the island to help them locate it. The plan was for them to track his phone to find the island, but Dressler didn’t really want Domitian for the chef job. That was apparently just bait to get him here. The moment he got on the helicopter to fly here, he was knocked out. He was then dumped on the little island with me. That was the day before yesterday. Or maybe it was the day before that now,” she added uncertainly, exhaustion slowing her thinking. Finally she stopped trying to work out the day count and simply said, “This is the third morning since both of us woke up on the island.”
There was silence for a minute and then Thorne asked, “This special police force is going to storm the island?”
It was hard to tell if he was glad or concerned, Thorne’s voice seemed to hold both emotions and again Sarita wished the light was better so she could see his face. As the sun rose, lighting in the room slowly got brighter, but it was still full of shadows and Thorne seemed to be in the darkest shadow in the room.