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“Why is she going to Brazil? Better yet, how do you know she’s going?”
    “None of your bus…” Phillip’s last word was eaten by another groan as Rafe jerked the twisted hand a few inches higher, increasing the pressure even more.
    “Try again,” he growled in Phillip’s ear.
    “Just do it and you’ll see half of your debts vanish,” Phillip choked out. It sounded more like a desperate plea.
    Rafe’s mind raced in search for a plausible justification not to take the new assignment, but nothing came up. He had to agree, to play along until he had enough time to pay off his debts.
    At his last encounter with Yara, he came out with a winning ticket – a box full of a strange type of bullet that Rafe had never seen before. But from the degree of destruction the vampires left behind and the amount of C4s invested in destroying the factory in London, Rafe would bet his left hand that the bullets were worth millions. He was close to his freedom, he could almost taste it. But for now, he needed to pretend it all was “business as usual”.
    “When is she leaving?”
    Phillip’s lips curved up in a smirk. “Her plane leaves tonight.”

Chapter Nine
     
    After 15 hours of travelling and a stressful stop at Miami Airport, Yara landed in Manaus, Brazil. Unfortunately, she would still have a couple of more hours before she could actually take a breath and rest her feet properly.
    She pulled her large backpack off the luggage belt and went through customs. It always astounded her how Brazilians were so relaxed, even when it came to airport security. The customs’ guards were strict when questioning but were not even a whiff of the Americans.
    As soon as she crossed through the sliding doors leading to the street, a wave of hot, stuffy air hit her. Ai, Mighty Soartas! She had forgotten how stinking warm it was in this part of the world. It felt like she had just gone into a sauna.
    Opening a few buttons of her blouse, she made her way to the taxi stand. Manaus was the closest international airport to the Amazon, and one of the busiest in Brazil, but nonetheless, it was quite nondescript. The standing area was packed with tourists and businessmen coming and going. The sign “Taxis – Queue Here” was obscenely ignored by the mob for whom the cabs stopped anywhere they felt like it – off the walkway, in the middle of the tarmac, in front of a moving bus. Yep , I’ve arrived home, Yara thought. Her home, once upon a time; and like the human saying commands – when in Rome, do as Romans do, right? She pushed her way through the mob of waiting visitors, put both index fingers strategically on the sides of her lips, and blew. In less than a second, a yellow cab parked in front of her on a ridiculous 45-degree angle, blocking two lanes of traffic, all because of her un-ignorable whistle. Hehehe.
    Ignoring the incredibly creative curses from the other clients waiting on the curb, the driver rushed out, grabbed Yara’s backpack off her hands, opened the trunk of his old Chevrolet Cruze and placed it carefully inside.
    “Where to, miss?” the man asked with a wide grin.
    “Are you ready for a long drive?” Yara asked.
    “Osh! Always!” he answered, as he opened the passenger door for her.
    “Good, take me to…”
    A chill whooshed down her spine making her stop mid-sentence, halfway between getting into the car and out. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted, her panther snarled inside.
    Something was wrong. She was being followed.
    Yara paused by the open car door and looked around, searching for… what? She perused the thick crowd for a familiar face but found none. She didn’t know how or who it was, but she was definitely being followed; her instincts had never let her down. Damn the Soartas.
    She jumped in and slammed the door. “Take me to the edge of the Amazon, as fast as you can.”
    The driver followed her order to the tee. In no time they had left the main city and merged onto the