I headed into Havana as soon as I had finished breakfast, bringing along my gun and several changes of clothes of various sizes in a duffel bag. The café where I had told Sandro that I would meet him was a good distance away from his territory, in one of the major touristy areas of the city, so I was fairly sure that I wouldn’t attract too much attention there. It also seemed like a safe bet for a meeting spot with the people looking for my family seemingly concentrating on Sandro’s turf at the moment, or in places they might need to go for ‘mermaid’ food and supplies.

It was just before ten o’clock when I rented a room for the day at a nice hotel geared toward tourists, where I could park my very flashy sports car in the parking garage and out of sight. With that done, I went up to my room on the second floor to rest my shifting powers for a bit and then change my look. An hour later, I left the room appearing like a somewhat plain brunette Caucasian woman in her late twenties or early thirties wearing a white blouse, long colorful skirt, and leather sandals, with a large shoulder bag.

I spent the next hour wandering the streets around my destination, keeping an eye out for anyone who seemed out of place while pretending to be interested in the sights. Sandro surprised me by arriving on foot a good twenty minutes before we were due to meet, dressed casually in shorts and a sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscular build. He was looking over his shoulder occasionally to make certain that he hadn’t been tailed and I appreciated his caution. I watched him, and then the slightly crowded streets, but nobody seemed to be taking an undue amount of interest in him or our meeting spot.

Only then did I slip quietly back to the hotel for a quick change of form and clothes, back into my flashy Jessica Danvers persona. I was getting good at these quick changes and managed to return to the meeting spot only five minutes late for our meeting. I probably could have been right on time, but I took several moments pretending to look in the window of a clothing store to be sure that nobody suspicious had shown up while I was gone and might be doing the same thing I was while casing the café. Sure, I was being a bit paranoid, but paranoia had kept us safe until our slip-up on the night that Maddie and I were attacked.

I strode into the café, thankful that it was somewhat cooler than outside, and after scanning the area for any cameras or possibly hidden listening devices, I ordered a bottle of water and headed toward the table where Sandro was nursing a cup of coffee. I casually took a seat across from him and smiled as I quietly said, “It doesn’t look like you were followed.”

“Sí,” he agreed with a subtle nod. “They had someone on my tail, but I was able to lose him in the crowds at the tourist market by taking a few detours. This might not be my turf, but I still know this city better than some foreigner.”

I found myself smiling at his forethought. Sandro was good at this. “Nice. Thanks for the warning last night, Sandro. What can you tell me about these people asking around about us?”

“I’m guessing they’re military of some sort, not mercs like you. They’re obviously trained but act like they’re too good to work with the likes of us. They just want to pay for some information and be on their way so they can track your people down. Cash if we give you up, and subtle threats about what might happen if we don’t. It’s insulting,” Sandro complained with a grimace.

“What do you have your people telling them?” I asked in concern for both our safety and that of Sandro and his people.

Sandro’s grimace turned into a grin as he replied, “The truth, of course. It’s more likely to get them out of our hair sooner, less likely to blow up in all of our faces, and we might get a payoff out of it. Your family came to us, paid to work on our turf, and we helped you pull a few jobs like killing that rich asshole’s bodyguards, but we haven’t heard from any of our regular contacts with you for almost two weeks since helping you make some contacts with the local black market. My people don’t know more than that and what most of your people look like.”

I nodded thoughtfully. That could probably work since none of them knew about us Naethari. Sandro was also the only one who had a direct method of contacting my family, or vice versa. “And what about you, Sandro?”

His grin only got bigger. “Oh, I showed them the number that I had for Jack in my contacts list after talking to you last night. For some reason though, it seems to be for a deli, but then, Jack always struck me as the cautious type and he was the one who always made contact.” That slick bastard had changed the number and I couldn’t help but laugh as he continued to explain. “I also gave them the numbers of a few minor black-market dealers that I didn’t give to Jack since I didn’t figure they would be worth his time. It will make it look like I was giving them good info, but nothing that might lead to your family.”

“What about me, Sandro? Your people have seen me around the garage, and I do attract attention,” I pointed out, beginning to wonder if such a high-profile cover had been a good idea after all.

Sandro shrugged, seemingly not worried. “Naiya, the only one who knows that you came to me from Jack is Luis, and he won’t give you up. As far as the rest of my boys know, you’re just some rich tourist named Jessica who I sold a car to, and who I’m trying to romance.”

“I’m afraid that I’m already taken,” I offered with a smile and a shrug of my own, suspecting that he wasn’t completely serious about the last part.

“All the good ones are,” he replied with a nod before taking my hand and kissing it. “It does give me a good excuse to call or meet with you though.”

I nodded in agreement. It would give us an excuse to meet, and every sense I had available seemed to be telling me that he was being honest with me since showing up. “It does, especially with these assholes after my family and watching for any sign of us showing up. This complicates things and we’re going to need to take some precautions. I might need a favor, Sandro.”

To my surprise, there was no hesitance as he sipped at his coffee and asked, “What kind of favor?”

“With the current situation, we’re going to need weapons, enough to hold off an assault if necessary. None of that Cold War era Russian shit that is all over the local black market, but good, modern, and dependable weapons. We’ll need assault rifles, a few handguns, lots of ammo, and some heavy artillery too if it can be managed, and that’s going to be tough with those assholes watching you and waiting for my family to show up in public somewhere,” I told him seriously, keeping my voice low even though the café was mostly empty.

Sandro’s expression turned pensive, and it was a couple of minutes before he sighed and spoke again. “That’s not my usual type of business, but I do know of one dealer who has, or can probably get what you want. You might want to be prepared though, and definitely be careful. I can help you out with precautions and making contact, but I’m going to need a favor in return.”

I parked the car that I had borrowed from Sandro in the parking lot and looked at the building with trepidation. It was almost midnight, and I was a little nervous about going in there alone. I had spent most of the afternoon shopping and then running the supplies back to the villa and I had barely had time to eat dinner with Kara and the others before heading back into Havana. Then I was in a rush to buy some new clothes for my disguise and pick up the borrowed car from the pre-arranged location so I could return to the hotel to get some rest in my true form before shifting into the form that I had chosen for tonight’s meeting with the arms merchant Sandro had recommended.

The man in question owned the business that I was currently parked in front of and Sandro had given me directions and advice on dealing with the man. Not that I needed much in the way of directions since the bright neon sign of the nightclub had been hard to miss. Sandro told me that the place catered to the tourist crowd, not all that surprising since it wasn’t all that far from the hotel where I had left my high-profile pink sports car.

I could have come as my flashy tourist alter ego and fit right in, but Sandro had suggested that I try to disguise myself, and I couldn’t help but agree with him. If things went bad here, then I didn’t want my only viable identity to be connected to it. Pissing off an arms merchant was something that I was hoping to avoid tonight though.

The form that I had shifted into was meant to be eye-catching, but very different from my Jessica Danvers form. Rather than a beautiful and slightly edgy rich girl, I was going for more of a femme fatale vibe tonight. To look at me, most would think that I was Caucasian and in my mid-twenties at first glance, but a closer look would make people guess half-Asian, it was sort of like a female version of my original human self. I was slightly taller than average, but not near as tall as in my Jessica form, and I had this fit and somewhat dangerous look with my slinky black dress, three-inch heels, and short and spiky black hair.

I walked up to the doors of the club with practiced predatory grace, constantly taking in my surroundings and the people around me using both sight and smell. The line was fairly long but I walked right up to the bouncer and said, “I have an appointment to see Señor Aguila, my name is Xenya Li.”

The bouncer absently gestured for me to go inside as he said, “Talk to the bartender.”

Wasting no time, I stepped into the club, the sudden loud volume and intense bass of the music making me glad that I had dulled my hearing somewhat in this form as I navigated the tables and made my way around the dance floor toward the bar. The club was pulsing, not just with the music but the lights on the dance floor as well, and the bar had a sort of tropical island motif that just screamed tourist trap. The bar was long, and the bartenders were a pair of Latina women who didn’t look much older than my current form, pretty and dressed in short shorts and a crop top that bore the club’s logo on what little material that managed to cover their ample chests.

There was a lineup, so it was several minutes before I managed to step up to the bar and speak to one of the bartenders. The woman behind the bar had barely looked me over before asking in heavily accented English, “What can I get for you?”

“Rum and Coke,” I replied carefully, “and a meeting with Señor Aguila. I’m Xenya Li, he should be expecting me.”

The bartender gave me a price and as she was mixing my drink, I pulled a bill from my shoulder bag and slid it across the bar. It was more than enough for the drink and tip and after I waved off the offered change, she spoke into a phone as I sipped at my drink. The drink was nice and sweet, but with my Naethari regeneration, there was very little chance of me getting so much as a buzz, even if I spent the whole night trying. It was a good thing that I wasn’t here to get drunk.

I had half-finished my drink when the bartender put the phone back in its cradle and gestured to a very large and muscular man approaching the bar. He was apparently the strong and silent type, so the bartender spoke for him. “Enrique will take you to see Señor Aguila, but he’s going to have to search you first.”

I shrugged and nodded, having fully expected this possibility. Sandro had told me that the man was very cautious about who he dealt with and had an eye for the ladies. My purse was too small to carry a weapon and I didn’t have any on me at the moment either since I wanted him to deal with me. Truthfully, if I wanted him dead, I wouldn’t have needed a weapon to kill him anyway. A partial shift to reveal the toxic barbed spines of my vuhac could kill him before he realized what was happening.

I quickly downed the last half of my drink and then followed Enrique, who led me to and then through a door that was off-limits to the general public. There was a hallway with doors to either side that led to a staffroom and a storage room, and at the end of the hall was an office. Enrique stopped before we could reach the latter to look through my mostly empty purse and give me a very thorough pat down.

Having a man’s hands all over me like that made me cringe, more so because he seemed to be enjoying it, but it was a necessary evil to get what I was here for, so I quietly endured it until he decided that I wasn’t carrying an uzi in my panties or something. With it over, I glared at the large man as I controlled the revulsion that I was feeling and got into character. “I hope you enjoyed that because if your hands touch me like that again, I’ll break them,” I told him in a tone cold enough to freeze hell over.

It would seem that Enrique understood enough English for his skin to pale by at least two shades at my threat. Either that or my tone and expression conveyed my message with perfect clarity. He didn’t reply, but instead opened the door to the office and motioned for me to enter. It was time to meet the arms dealer in his lair; I just hoped that this visit would be worth it and that I could handle it. I wished that Maddie was with me as I stepped through that door, she would have been so much better at this kind of thing than me.