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But he didn’t.

Silence stretched between them, long and painful. Biting her lip, Ali finally broke it.

“Why did you come back?”

“Not for you,” he clarified, though the sight of her in such obvious pain made him want to gather her in his arms and whisk her away to somewhere safe.

He stomped down that side of him. He couldn’t afford to be lured in by her again. Nor would Santiago give in to the equally noisy side of himself that demanded to scream and curse and shout about everything she’d put him through. There was far more at stake than his own hurt feelings.

“I understand,” she said, looking at him with big black eyes. Despite everything, he still found her beautiful.

It was all so confusing.

Santiago crouched to meet her at eye level.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said. “One question. And I want the truth.”

Ali flinched, but she nodded.

“Was José in on this?” he asked her. “Was he a part of the plan?”

“José?” Ali asked, looking genuinely baffled. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I hadn’t thought twice about the man before you mentioned that he was the one guarding your grandfather’s ashes. As far as I know, he has no connections to Bernardo Torres or his operation.”

Try as he might, Santiago found no deception in her features. He knew firsthand that Ali was a talented actress, but he was fairly certain that this time, at least, she told the truth.

Santiago nodded slowly, relief warring with dread. “Then what he told us in his office was true.”

Ali shrugged and then winced as the action pulled on her wound. “I have no reason to doubt him. It’s why I stopped following Torres’s orders. We both saw the spirits in Cumbemayo. That night in the cave, when I contacted them, I said so. If magic is real, then so is the curse. It will kill millions. I couldn’t let that happen.”

There was something nearly pleading in her voice, and he believed the last of her words, if nothing else. Ali wouldn’t let her sister die.

“All right then,” Santiago said, settling on his knees and opening his pack to find the first aid kit. “We have less than half a day to lay my abuelo to rest before Atahualpa and his men return from the grave to seek their revenge.”

Ali gaped at him in surprise. “We?” she asked. “I mean, yes, obviously I want to help, but…” She let her voice trail off.

Santiago understood. “I am so mad at you,” he said, focusing on the supplies and not on her face. The hope that lit her features was too painful to witness. “‘Mad’ isn’t even the right word to explain how I’m feeling. I don’t think there are words, Ali. Gutted. Humiliated. Disappointed. Betrayed.” From his periphery, he watched her twist her fingers together.

“I know,” she lamented. “And I am so, so—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Santiago interrupted her. “It doesn’t matter now. We need to stop Torres from desecrating Atahualpa’s tomb and, more importantly, stop the curse from destroying our people.”

Ali opened her mouth to reply, but Santiago wasn’t done speaking. “I need your help to do that, Ali. But after today, we’re done. You and I go our separate ways.”

“Whatever you want.” Her voice cracked.

“I never want to see your face again,” he said, knowing it was the greatest lie he’d ever told. He broke their shared gaze before she could read the truth in his eyes.

It didn’t matter that Santiago wanted Ali. After everything they’d been through on this trip, he respected himself too much to accept another partner who made him small.

Santiago removed the sodden bandage from her arm, gritting his teeth as Ali hissed in pain. When it was off, he frowned at what he found underneath. The jagged cut still bled sluggishly. What concerned him more was the skin around it—pink and irritated and hot to the touch.

Infection?

“Why didn’t you re-bandage this last night?” he asked her brusquely.

“I lost my pack in the river,” she said. “But I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” He cleaned the wound as best he could. “This doesn’t look good.” He was angry at how much that concerned him. How much he still cared.