Mysterious Ways

by Christine Pope

  That would all come in time, he supposed…if they were given that time.

  And even though Rafe knew they’d all agreed that these errands needed to be run, and that the four or five Castillo families who lived in this part of town needed to be protected, he couldn’t quite avoid the wave of guilt that went over him at how they’d all left their father behind to maintain a lonely vigil next to Genoveva’s body. True, he wasn’t completely alone, because José would stay with him until the hearse arrived to take her to the funeral home, but still.

  Rafe didn’t know exactly how this sort of thing was supposed to be handled, because he’d only been a little boy when his grandmother Isabel died in California, fighting Joaquin Escobar. Everyone had been very solemn, and the house had been filled with people coming and going, all of them murmuring things he couldn’t quite understand. And then he and Louisa and Malena and their parents had had to leave their cheerful house in the hills, so close to so many trails for hiking and exploring, and come to live in the gloomy hacienda near the center of town. But because Isabel had died so many miles away, they’d taken her straight to the funeral home. He’d never seen her body, except later at the funeral, where her overly painted face as she lay in the casket had only frightened him. That hadn’t been his grandmother.

  But Genoveva still looked like his mother. Whatever dark spell Escobar had sent to kill her, it had killed from within. There was no mark on her. She truly had looked as though she was simply asleep.

  She wasn’t sleeping, though. Simon Escobar had murdered her, and for that he was going to pay…and for what he’d tried to do to Miranda. Not today, because protecting the family came first, but soon.

  Very soon.

  Cat’s Mercedes SUV brought them to a shopping center filled with national chain stores, the kind of place that didn’t really fit Santa Fe’s public image, and so was banished to the south side of town, safely away from the picturesque plaza and the historic buildings at the city’s center. They parked and went into the electronics store, where all three of them bought new phones, enrolled in plans, and were out the door in less than fifteen minutes, despite the salesman’s best efforts to upsell them all kinds of accessories and extra minutes.

  From there they went to the mall itself, where Cat took Miranda by the arm, saying, “I’ll help you with all this, since I doubt you want Rafe haunting the lingerie department.”

  Miranda had laughed at the comment, although she had sounded a little forced, as if she wanted this all to be normal even though she knew it was anything but. Still, as much as he hated to be parted from her — and as much as he feared Simon might pounce from some lurking place in the dressing rooms — Rafe couldn’t help being a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to be included in the selection of every item in her new wardrobe.

  He loitered in the center of the department store, near enough a display case filled with men’s watches that no one would think it odd that he’d be lingering in that particular spot, although he did have to fend off a few over-zealous salesclerks. Eventually, though, Cat and Miranda reappeared, burdened with enough shopping bags that he guessed they’d given the lie to his comment to Louisa that they’d only be getting a few essentials.

  Still, it was done, and had actually taken less time than he’d feared, especially considering how much Miranda had bought. Once they had piled all the shopping bags in the back of the SUV, Cat started the engine and asked, “Where first?”

  “Probably Arthur and Casey’s house,” he replied. “I think they’re closest.”

  She nodded, then gave the voice command to have the car take them to that address.

  “Arthur and Casey?” Miranda asked from the back seat.

  Rafe didn’t like how she had to sit in the back by herself, but it also wouldn’t have been fair to expect Cat to sit up front alone and play chauffeur. He half-turned so he could at least see part of Miranda’s face, then said, “They’re cousins of ours. I mean, Arthur is our cousin. Casey is his wife. She’s a civilian.”

  “Oh.” A pause, and then Miranda inquired, “Do a lot of civilians marry into the Castillo clan?”

  “Not as many as in most,” he said. “Genoveva didn’t really approve of it, even though she knew it was necessary.”

  There, he thought. I said my mother’s name out loud, and it almost sounded normal.

  Miranda nodded. “It gets tough, I suppose. I always wondered why more clans didn’t intermarry, why they kept themselves so separate from each other. I mean, we see a lot of it now in Arizona, but it wasn’t like that before I was born.”

  “Mom told me it was about maintaining clan identity,” Cat remarked. She was facing forward, keeping an eye on the controls even though the vehicle was handling the driving duties, so Rafe couldn’t get a good read on her expression. “It was one thing to marry civilians to keep a clan from inbreeding, but when that happened, the civilians always became part of the clan. They left a lot of their identity behind. But when you have people from two separate witch clans marrying, then you run into the problem of trying to figure out which clan you identify with, where you place your loyalty.”

  That sounded like something Genoveva would have said. God knows her whole identity was wrapped up in being a Castillo, in being part of a witch family that could trace its roots back for more than four hundred years. Even the clans in New England couldn’t quite claim that sort of lineage.

  “I guess I can understand that,” Miranda said, her tone musing. “I know my parents were always careful to make it clear that Ian and Emily and I were equally Wilcox and McAllister, even though Emily was the prima-in-waiting of the McAllisters, and it was pretty clear that everyone expected Ian to be my father’s heir.”

  “What about you?” Rafe asked, genuinely curious. “Did you identify with one clan over another, despite what your parents said?”

  Her mouth curved in a smile. God, she was gorgeous, with those dark green eyes, ever so slightly tilted at the outer corners, and those lusciously full lips. “Well, don’t you dare ever tell them this, but I suppose I always thought of myself more as a McAllister. Not because I didn’t love my Wilcox relatives, or like being in Flagstaff during the part of the year when we lived there, but because something about Jerome always felt more like home to me, like I could really feel my roots more there.”

  There was a wistfulness in her voice that awakened new misgivings in Rafe. Yes, Miranda had told him she loved him, and she’d given no sign that she wanted anything except to stay here in Santa Fe and make a life here together, but he could tell she loved that crazy little mountain town where she’d spent half her life. Was it too much to expect that she might someday love Santa Fe the same way?

  Rafe pushed that worry aside as best he could. They had enough to trouble them as it was. He didn’t need to make the situation worse.

  “I wish I could see it,” Cat said.

  “You should go for a visit sometime,” Miranda told her. “Maybe we can all go…after.”

  The sentence sort of hung there in the air, but Rafe knew exactly what she meant. There was no point in making any plans for the future until they dealt with Simon Escobar. And while Rafe guessed that his mother wouldn’t have looked too favorably on a trip to Jerome, he realized that didn’t matter anymore. Genoveva was gone, and could no longer attempt to control her children with her ridiculous demands and outrageous expectations.

  An odd sort of relief stole over him, even though he wished he could ignore it. He shouldn’t be feeling that way, not when his mother had died only a few hours earlier. But the thought wouldn’t quite go away.

  Now I am free.

  They all fell into an uneasy silence as the SUV turned into the neighborhood where Arthur and Casey’s home was located. Rafe had never even been here before; his cousins were too numerous for him to have personally visited all their houses, and besides, all his relatives flocked to his mother’s house when they came there for the Castillo picnic that was held every July. Th
at had always been more than enough family togetherness for him.

  This part of Santa Fe was much, much newer than the area downtown, the houses no more than five years old. It was a neat, tidy neighborhood of Spanish-style homes on modest lots, just the sort of place where someone with a civilian wife would want to settle, since it looked like just about any other tract of stucco homes in the Southwest. Then again, there was something almost reassuring about the samey-ness of the houses here. It certainly looked like the last place where a dark warlock would attempt to coordinate an attack.

  The SUV turned a corner into a cul-de-sac, and Cat took over the controls so she could pull up into the driveway of the house at the center of the little curved street. The place looked well cared for, the front yard a xeriscape with cacti and other native plants, although most of them seemed to have already gone dormant for the winter.

  The three of them got out of the SUV. Miranda looked a little wary, but Rafe guessed that her expression was simply shyness at having to meet yet more Castillos. He went to her and took her hand. “It’s going to be fine,” he said in what he hoped were reassuring tones. “Arthur and Casey are around my age, and pretty laid-back. I know they’re going to like you.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” she responded. “I just hate being the bearer of bad news.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Cat said, coming up behind them as they went down the front walk. “The word’s already gone out to everyone. Our cousin Ned set up a text alert that goes to everyone’s phone with important clan news. I know it sounds sort of impersonal, but there are so many of us that calling everyone directly would take hours.”

  And clearly the bad news had already circulated amongst the clan, because Arthur was opening the front door before Rafe even had a chance to ring the bell. Dark eyes sorrowful, he said, “Rafe…Cat…I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he responded. Of course it really wasn’t, but none of them had time to sit down and mourn. “We’re actually here about something else. Can we come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Arthur stepped out of the way so Rafe, Miranda, and Cat could enter. The foyer was small, leading to a modest living room to one side and a dining room on the other. A little ways down was a family room, open to the kitchen.

  It was to the family room that Arthur led them. Sitting on one of the couches there was his wife Casey, pretty and with startlingly red hair, which always made her stand out at Castillo gatherings. She was also hugely pregnant, and Rafe belatedly recalled that she was due just about any day now.

  Good, he thought. If she goes into labor, she’ll be safely in the hospital, away from all this mess.

  Then again, Simon had attacked Marco while he was in intensive care at St. Vincent’s, so maybe the hospital wasn’t all that safe a place.

  No, Casey probably wasn’t a target. Simon had only gone after Marco because he’d been about to reveal where Miranda was hidden. He’d have no reason to attack Casey specifically. They were only here at Arthur and Casey’s house because all the Castillos could be at risk.

  “I’m so sorry about your mother,” Casey said. She shifted on the couch, one hand against her distended belly. “And I’m sorry I can’t get up, but — ”

  “But these days it basically takes a crane,” Arthur finished for her, a smile touching his lips despite the gloomy reason for their visitors being there. Despite his sorrow at his prima’s passing, it was clear that he was thrilled about his and Casey’s soon-to-be addition to the family.

  “No worries,” Rafe said. “Actually, we’re here because we want to lay a spell of protection on the house.”

  From the way Arthur nodded grimly, it seemed clear enough that he’d gotten sufficient information about Genoveva’s passing to know why such a precaution was necessary. “Thanks, Rafe. I didn’t know you or Cat did that kind of thing.”

  “We don’t,” Cat said quickly, as if she wanted to make sure that Miranda would get all the credit here. “Miranda is going to do it.”

  A flash of surprise passed over Arthur’s face before he did his best to conceal his shock. Rafe couldn’t really blame him; most people in the clan still had no idea that his fiancée possessed any kind of magical powers at all, let alone ones so strong that they put the Castillos’ resources to shame. Also, it was entirely possible that most of the people in the clan still thought Miranda was missing. Word traveled fast, but today had just been one shock after another.

  “Oh, okay,” Arthur said. He glanced over at Miranda. “Is there anything we need to do?”

  “No,” she replied, giving him a reassuring smile. “You won’t even know the spell is active. But it will be doing its job invisibly.”

  “How long will it last?” Casey asked.

  A slight frown pulled at Miranda’s brows. “I don’t know for sure, but I think indefinitely. So far, when I’ve cast a spell, it just keeps working until I consciously shut it off.”

  Well, that piece of information was useful. Privately, Rafe had worried a bit about how much maintenance Miranda would have to perform to keep all these spells going at the same time, but it sounded as if that wouldn’t be an issue. The amount of energy it required might still be a concern, though. He’d have to ask her about that once they were safely back in the privacy of Cat’s Mercedes. All these spells of protection wouldn’t do much good if they completely drained her to the point where she couldn’t function.

  “Nice,” Arthur said. “Then, um…I guess just do what you need to do.”

  Miranda nodded, then shut her eyes, lashes thick, dark crescents against the fair skin of her cheeks. She stood there in the center of the room for a moment, giving no sign that she was doing anything except breathing slowly and deeply.

  Rafe felt it, though. Maybe not even consciously, not quite, but something seemed to stir along the periphery of his senses, a trace of energy so faint, he doubted he would even be able to explain how he’d managed to feel it at all. That energy had a warmth to it, a sort of reassuring glow, and it seemed to surround them all, moving up and out so it encased the entire house.

  After a long moment, Miranda opened her eyes. “There,” she said. “I think that should do it. Even so, if you see or hear or even feel something that doesn’t seem right, you need to reach out to one of us.”

  “I had to get a new phone,” Rafe put in hastily. “Let me give you the number.”

  He had to call it up from the information screen of the phone he’d just bought, because of course he didn’t have his new number memorized yet. Arthur entered the information into his own phone, then put it back in his pocket.

  “Anything else?” he asked. “I mean, I already took time off work next week because that’s when Casey is due, but — ”

  “No,” Rafe replied. He glanced over at Miranda, and she gave a tiny, somehow helpless lift of her shoulders. Obviously, she didn’t have any more idea of what to expect than he did. “Just — keep on with your regular life. Louisa’s in charge of the clan now, but I don’t think she’d tell you anything different.”

  “Do you know when the funeral is going to be?” Casey asked in her soft, light voice. “With my due date so close, we might not be able to make it, but — ”

  “No funeral,” he cut in, then hated himself for how harsh he sounded. Casey’s eyes widened, and Arthur began, sounding puzzled,

  “No funeral? Why not?”

  “Because we’re not sure it’s safe. Don’t worry — my sisters and I will be able to say goodbye to her. But we’re trying to avoid a big clan thing.”

  Sad comprehension dawned in Arthur’s dark eyes. “Sorry, man. That’s rough. I get it, though.”

  “Thanks.” Since they’d done what they’d come here for — and because Rafe didn’t think he could take much more of the sympathetic looks both Arthur and Casey kept giving him — he went on, “We need to get to the next house. Like Miranda said, if anything feels off to you, let me know. I think you’ll be fine, but….”


  “Better safe than sorry. I get it.” Arthur laid a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, but briefly, just enough to show he was there for him. “Take care of yourself — and you, too, Cat. And thanks, Miranda.”

  Cat offered him a quick flash of a smile but didn’t say anything, while Miranda also smiled, looking almost embarrassed to be thanked for something she wasn’t sure would be all that effective. Something about Cat’s expression seemed even more strained than it had been a few minutes ago, but Rafe couldn’t think of what might have set his sister off. This house was way too new to be haunted; he knew for a fact that Arthur and Casey were its first and only occupants, since they’d bought it from the developer.

  Well, he’d ask her what was going on once they got back in the car.

  After making their goodbyes, the three of them went outside and climbed into the SUV. Cat rattled off the address for their cousin Trey, who lived in a condo less than a half mile from Arthur and Casey’s place. They’d barely turned the corner out of the cul-de-sac before Rafe asked, “What’s going on, Cat? You look like — ” He broke off there, since he’d been about to say “you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” which in her case was entirely possible.

  “No ghosts,” she said, still wearing that tight little smile, one that was more of a grimace than anything else. “Just…something feels weird.”

  “What kind of weird?” Miranda asked from the back seat. Her tone was sharp with worry…not that Rafe could blame her.

  “It’s hard to explain.” Cat’s hands rested on the steering wheel, although it was the vehicle that was doing the driving. Her fingers tightened against the leather. “It’s sort of like…like when we were at the hospital with Marco. This weird kind of pressure.”