“They’re looking for pretty chicks,” Scabby’s lips thinned into a chilling grin. “The younger they are, the higher price they’ll sell for.”
“How can they sell them? Aren’t they paying customers?” Leanna set the bottle down and gaped at the shakedown artist. Her mouth was dry, despite the beer, and her head swam, like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
“Some haven’t paid or they didn’t pay enough,” Pimply explained. “They’ll pay at the other side of the border.”
“Did Carmelita pay?” Leanna blinked at the stars zapping around her visual field. Had the strobe lights and pounding music made her dizzy?
“No, she’s with friends,” Pimply said. “Why should she pay when a gorgeous thirteen-year-old virgin fetches the most exclusive price from an American collector?”
Horror pinched Leanna’s heart, and beads of sweat popped over her face. She was hot and cold at the same time, and the room spun like mad. The threeamigosblurred together, faces stretching and shrinking.
She put her head down and gasped for air. Black patches crowded her vision, and the thudding of her heart exploded behind her ears. Why was she so woozy?
She needed to leave the cantina. Go outside and get fresh air. Find that asshole Axe and kick his ass.
Why couldn’t she open her eyes or move her arms and legs? What was happening to her?
Rough hands grabbed her, and someone, probably Blue Skull, hefted her over his shoulder. Leanna tried to keep her head above the clouds of black cotton, but she was slipping under fast.
The last thing she heard was Scabby laughing and Pimply saying, “Looks like she didn’t pay enough.”
