Beautiful Sacrifice

garage into traffic. Christmas lights sparkled everywhere in storefronts. Lina felt like she was dreaming.
    Must be shock, she told herself.
    “Your apartment is closer,” Hunter said.
    Lina shivered. “Yes.”
    “Cold?”
    “No.”
    “Hang on, sweetheart. I’ll get you home.”
    “No,” she said tightly. “I can’t go there. Those men were after me.”
    “What?” Hunter said, giving her a fast look.
    “They were speaking in a Mayan dialect. They wanted me.”
    Hunter’s eyes searched surrounding traffic and the driving mirrors with quick glances. “You sure?”
    “I grew up with Spanish and English as my primary languages. The Mayan dialect those men spoke was my third language. My great-grandmother prefers it, though she speaksSpanish very well. In case you didn’t catch it, the driver only spoke Spanish. He knew Jase was a cop.”
    “I got that.” Hunter wove through traffic, checking mirrors, watching for any vehicle matching his maneuvers. “What did the others say?”
    “They screamed at the shooter not to hurt me or El Maya would eat their balls and tear out the heart of every living relative they had.”
    Hunter’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that a usual curse?”
    “No. They yelled variations of the threat and made it clear that they wanted to…take me. El Maya wants me intact and unharmed.” Tears welled from her eyes and silently streaked her face, shining trails in the streetlight. “It’s my fault. All that blood, Jase’s blood, my fault.”
    “You weren’t holding the guns. The blood is all on the shooters’ ticket. Did you tell the PD?”
    Silently she shook her head while the city’s petroleum-scented wind turned tears cold on her face. “No. Was that wrong? Should I have told them?”
    For an instant Hunter’s fingertips slid down her cheek, bringing warmth to the cool flesh. “You did good. Right now I don’t trust anyone. Narcos have ears in every police department that is important to them. Houston is real important.” He put his hand on the wheel again. “You need to disappear.”
    “Narcos? Is this about drugs, not the artifacts?”
    “I don’t know. All I know is that anything we give the police will end up in places that it wasn’t meant to be.”
    “Corruption?” she asked unhappily.
    “Even if ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the Houston PD is on heaven’s short list, that still leaves plenty of people to pass information on down to hell.”
    “God, we’re turning into Mexico.”
    Hunter’s attention never left the traffic around them. “We’re as human as Mexicans are. Corruption happens. In some cultures it’s accepted, even admired, and certainly exploited just like any other business opportunity. Mexico…” He shook his head.
    Lina watched Hunter’s stark profile while he told her what she didn’t want to hear.
    “Mexico is circling the toilet,” he said bluntly. “Everybody knows it and nobody talks about it. The narcos are in open warfare with the federales . Silver or lead, take your pick. Bribery or blood. I don’t judge the civilians who only want to survive. The cops and politicians, well, I wouldn’t mind flushing those corrupt bastards before the rot goes any farther.”
    “I know. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off.
    “Yeah. When that greasy corruption takes a slice out of your honest life, it’s a shock.”
    More silence, night and time flowing by.
    “Anyone following?” Lina asked, her voice catching.
    “Not that I’ve caught,” Hunter said. “Ease down, sweetheart. It’s going to be a long night as it is. No need to waste energy worrying about things you can’t control. Deep breaths. Slow. Long.”
    Silently Lina practiced breathing while Hunter wove through traffic, making unexpected turns, sometimes going around whole blocks and ending up in the same place. She let herself drift, sliding down and down, back to where her heart wasn’t beating double time and screams weren’t clawing at her throat.
    “Is your passport at your apartment?” he asked.
    She looked at his face, dark planes and angles slashed by city lights. He looked as forbidding as any stone statue carved in reverence to forgotten gods.
    “No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I always carry it with me. Same for Mexican travel documents.”
    Hunter almost smiled. “Same here. Need anything from work?”
    “My computer.”
    “Can you access it through an outside portal?” he asked.
    She closed her eyes. “Yes. I have all the