At last we were done and headed back into the heart of town to take Cat home. When we got there, I was relieved to see that José and Rosa’s Subaru was nowhere in evidence. While José seemed like a kindly soul, Rosa would have been a bit much to handle after the afternoon I’d put in. I guessed that Eduardo had sent them home, since there wasn’t much for anyone to do except wait for Genoveva’s funeral services the following morning.
Actually, I didn’t see Eduardo’s Mercedes, either. When we went inside, Rafe found a note on the table in the foyer, saying that Eduardo and Louisa and Oscar were all at Malena’s, keeping watch. Yesenia had determined that it was all right for Malena to remain at her house rather than be sent to the hospital, since she seemed stable enough.
“It’s just like Dad to leave a note rather than send a text,” Cat said, setting the piece of paper back down on the table. “But I’m glad they didn’t have to take Malena to the hospital.”
“Well, we all know how well that worked the last time we tried it,” Rafe replied darkly. “They probably didn’t want to risk having her there.”
I thought of how Simon’s magic had killed their cousin Marco, even though he’d been in the intensive care ward at St. Vincent’s. All those doctors and nurses hadn’t been enough to save him. That realization only made the tension knot itself more tightly somewhere in the pit of my stomach, and I swallowed.
Cat nodded, arms wrapped tight around herself. She looked very cold, although the house itself was actually fairly warm. “I guess you two will be going home, then.”
The words weren’t exactly a plea, but I read between the lines. Cat didn’t want to stay in this big gloomy place by herself, and I couldn’t blame her.
Rafe had obviously also picked up on the subtext, because he said, “I think it’s better if we stay with you until Dad comes home. We’ll order some takeout.”
“And have some wine?” she asked hopefully.
“Absolutely,” I replied. I couldn’t speak for the other two, but I definitely needed a drink.
“Perfect,” Cat said.
After a bit of back and forth, we decided on Thai, since none of us had had it for a while. Rafe placed the order, and Cat and I set the big table in the dining room. As she laid down the last plate, she shook her head.
“It’s going to be weird eating in here without Mom, even though we haven’t had a lot of sit-down dinners lately.”
I wished I knew her better, because Cat looked like she needed a hug right then. Maybe she would have been okay with an outward gesture of affection, maybe not. Even the brief time I’d spent around them had told me that the Castillos weren’t the most demonstrative family in the world.
“It’s hard, I know,” I said. The words sounded horribly inadequate.
She shrugged. “What’s bothering me is that it’s not as hard as I thought it would be. Maybe it’s just all this other craziness going on. I mean, I’m sad about my mother, and angry at Simon Escobar, but….” She let the words trail off, then looked up at me, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe it just means I didn’t love her as much as I thought I did.”
This time I did go over and give her a quick hug. She looked startled, but I only said, “I’m not sure that’s it at all. I mean, your mother was a difficult person, so I can see why your feelings would be complicated.”
“‘Difficult.’ There’s an understatement.” Cat went over to the sideboard and got out some silverware, setting it down next to the plates. That silver was heavy and ornate, obviously a family heirloom. Possibly a bit much to go with Thai takeout, but then, maybe it was Cat’s way of feeling connected to her Castillo heritage. “She and Rafe fought more. I mostly tried to stay out of the way.”
“Well, I just think you shouldn’t be too tough on yourself.”
This time she smiled a little, dark eyes crinkling in amusement. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“Which is what?” Rafe asked, coming into the room as he tucked his phone into his pocket.
“That we all need to be a little nicer to ourselves, especially now,” Cat told him. “Food ordered?”
“It’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
Thank the Goddess for delivery. While we were waiting for the food to show up, we went and checked out the wine cabinet, deciding on a pinot noir. We chatted about wine, about Chinese food versus Thai, about anything except the way Malena lay in a coma at her house, or how we’d all be attending Genoveva’s funeral the next morning.
Maybe it was wrong to pretend everything was normal, but I could tell we all desperately needed to feel that way, even if we understood that we were putting on a façade and nothing more.
And even after the food arrived and we were all sitting down, eating cashew chicken and pad thai and chicken fried rice, we focused more on the oddities of the day — that weird pressure Cat kept feeling, Nina’s strange behavior, the possible reasons why my protection spells worked when Malena’s didn’t — than on Rafe and Cat’s losses. It felt better trying to solve puzzles than come up with platitudes for something we couldn’t fix or change.
Eventually, Eduardo came home, looking weary but pleased to see us all gathered there — and, most likely, relieved that none of us had come to any harm. We all went into the living room to hear his news. Malena was stable for now, really more in a deep sleep than a coma, albeit a sleep she couldn’t seem to wake from. And Louisa and Oscar had gone home, satisfied that Malena wasn’t in any immediate danger.
“And we should go home, too,” Rafe said. The table had been cleared, the leftovers put away. I didn’t know about him and Cat, but I had a faint wine buzz going, just enough to smooth down the sharp edges of an extremely rough day. He looked over at his father and sister, who occupied the pair of matching chairs opposite the couch where we sat. “It’ll be another hard day tomorrow.”
Yes, there was still the funeral to get through. At least it would be a quiet ceremony, just the four of us, plus Louisa and Oscar and maybe José and Rosa, although I hadn’t heard for certain whether they would be attending or not. John wouldn’t leave Malena’s side, which I supposed was the right thing to do. All of Genoveva’s other children would be there, after all.
We said our goodbyes and headed back to Rafe’s place. He’d barely shut the door behind us before he was pulling me to him, kissing me. I knew part of his urgent need was only his desire to reassure himself that I was safe, that we were both still okay. I welcomed his touch, because I was feeling the same thing. We needed to be together, to make sure our bond was as strong as it could be.
Upstairs then, to the bedroom we now shared. Our clothing fell to the ground piece by piece, and then we were on the bed, skin to skin, lips locked together even as our bodies joined in furious intercourse. No foreplay this time; no, this was raw animal need, an affirmation of our life forces, the strange bond that connected us even though we weren’t husband and wife yet. That didn’t matter, though. The only thing that mattered was the man who held me, whose body was locked together with mine.
And afterward, we slept entwined in one another’s arms, knowing that here, together, we were safe.
Part of the reason my shopping at Dillard’s had taken a little longer than planned was that Cat and I had both realized I needed to get something to wear to her mother’s funeral, in addition to the everyday stuff required to replace the clothing I’d left behind at the Tesuque estate. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the master suite at Rafe’s house and scrutinized my appearance, hoping that no one would find fault with the modest black dress and matching sweater I wore, or the pumps with the low kitten heels. Growing up in Jerome, I’d worn flats all the time — the streets there were way too uneven to even think about stilettos — and so I’d never learned to walk in anything higher than about an inch heel.
At least I’d been wearing my jewelry when I fled Simon’s hideout, so I still had my tourmaline earrings and silver bracelet and ring. I supposed if I’d had nothing, I could have asked
to borrow a few pieces from Cat, but I was glad I could wear my own jewelry.
“You look fine,” Rafe said, giving me a quick glance. “No one’s going to be paying much attention to what we’re wearing, anyway.”
He didn’t add, Since it was always Genoveva who worried about that sort of stuff, but I got the vibe anyway. True, Eduardo and Louisa would probably be too occupied with their grief to notice much. Even so, I wanted to make sure it looked as though I was paying the proper respect to their late mother, that I understood the customs and rituals of this old, old clan.
Rafe looked pretty proper himself, in a charcoal gray suit and subdued tie in shades of gray and slate blue. In fact, the whole ensemble was so out of character that I guessed his mother must have chosen it for him, or maybe his father. I went over and straightened his tie, then went on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.
“You’re looking pretty fine yourself,” I replied. “I like a man in a suit.”
He shot me a pained glance. “Don’t get too used to it.”
Pure Rafe. However, considering we were just about to leave for his mother’s funeral, I decided it was probably better to hold back any retorts. Instead, I shrugged, then said, “We should probably get going.”
A huff of breath, followed by a reluctant nod. “I wish we didn’t have to.”
“It sounds as though it’s going to be pretty quiet.”
“I know, but even a quiet Catholic funeral is still long. And….” The words drifted into silence, and he jammed his hands into his pants pockets, his gaze avoiding mine.
“It’s so final. I know.” I touched his arm, hoping he could feel how much I loved him, how much I hated to see him going through this.
“‘Final.’ Yeah, that’s a good word for it.” He paused for a few seconds, gaze moving around the room even though I really didn’t know what he was looking for. “Okay, let’s go.”
We headed downstairs, then out to the garage so we could get in his Jeep. Neither of us spoke on our way over to the church. It was a pretty Spanish-style building, much less grand than the chapel where Rafe and I were supposed to get married, but also much friendlier in feel. There were only a few cars in the parking lot — Eduardo’s Mercedes sedan, the Volvo I recognized as Louisa and Oscar’s. I didn’t see any sign of Rosa and José’s Subaru, so I assumed they weren’t coming after all. Possibly José wanted to make sure everything was ready at the funeral home once the service was over.
Soft organ music was playing as we entered the church. Even though the place wasn’t all that large, the ranks of empty pews were somehow intimidating, as if they served to point out how many Castillos should have been here to honor the passing of their prima. Only the very front pew off to the left was occupied, everyone apparently wishing to cluster together rather than scattering amongst all those open benches.
There was just enough room for us to squeeze in to one side, next to Oscar, who sat at the end, shoulder touching Louisa’s, while Cat was on her right, sitting beside Eduardo. He turned his head and gave us a small, sad smile before looking forward again, at the lily-draped coffin that stood on the altar.
That coffin looked far too small to hold someone as formidable as Genoveva Castillo. Still, I remembered that she really hadn’t been all that tall a woman — she just made everyone think she was.
The priest, a slim man of middle height and middle age, came out then, and walked over to Eduardo and murmured something to him I couldn’t quite hear. Maybe he was only getting confirmation that there would be no other mourners. Whatever the content of their exchange, the priest gave a nod at the end and went back up to the altar, then said, “We have come to honor the memory of Genoveva Anna Lorena Castillo, who was taken from us far too soon.”
Even though I certainly hadn’t been a fan of Genoveva Castillo when she was alive, I could feel tears begin to burn in my eyes. Because she was taken far too soon, and all because of Simon Escobar’s spite. It wasn’t fair, and neither was Malena lying in a coma several miles from where we now sat, or Nina going into some weird kind of fugue state and destroying one of her canvases.
Or, come to think of it, Cat experiencing some kind of otherworldly mental pressure so bad that it actually caused her to black out.
As Rafe had said, the ceremony was long. At certain points, Eduardo and Oscar got up to read passages from the Bible. I hadn’t been raised in that tradition, so the words were unfamiliar to me. However, there was a certain beauty in those passages, in words laid down by men who had long since gone into dust.
At last, though, the time to say the final prayer had arrived — the Lord’s Prayer, as we all stood there and began to murmur the words, even me, who had picked them up purely through reading and watching television and movies, not because the prayer was anything I’d been taught in my parents’ house. According to Rafe, this part was usually done at the grave site, but they’d decided it would be safer to have the entire ceremony here now, and quietly bury Genoveva the next day.
“For Thine is the Kingdom,” we said in unison…
…and then all hell broke loose.
Cat gave a wailing cry and clutched her head as she sank to the floor, writhing. Eduardo began to bend toward her, even as the rest of us leapt up from the pew to offer our own assistance. In the next moment, though, her wails weren’t the only thing tearing at the still air of the church.
From nowhere, dark, hideous winged shapes dove toward us. I saw the reddish glare of their eyes, the obsidian gleam of their talons. Nina’s words echoed in my mind…they’re coming…they’re coming…they’re coming…and cold realization swept over me. I knew what these creatures must be, even though of course I’d never seen one, had only heard about the way they’d tried to attack my hometown so many years before.
Demons.
They came so quickly, I barely had time to raise my hands in the same protective gesture I’d used only the day before on Simon Escobar. The magic burned through me, moving outward in a shockwave of shimmering power.
It hit the first group of demons, blowing them backward so they tumbled over and over in the air, yet somehow managed to stay aloft. However, a second wave of the nightmarish creatures roared past them, claws outstretched, screaming toward the pew where we’d all been sitting.
Not at me, though.
At Louisa.
Oscar obviously saw that she was their target, because he pushed her to the ground, covering her with his body. Screeching in frustration, two of the demons dug their claws into his suit jacket and flung him aside like a rag doll. He hit the side of the altar and groaned, but apparently the blow wasn’t strong enough to knock him out, because at once he was on his hands and knees, crawling toward his wife.
Beside me, Rafe growled. I let myself glance over at him, saw his eyes beginning to glow with red fire.
Which meant he was probably getting ready to shift into wolf form.
I didn’t know what a wolf could do against these hellish creatures. Again I sent a shockwave spinning toward the demons, but although it stopped them from moving forward for a moment or two, it obviously wasn’t doing much except making them angrier and more agitated. It certainly didn’t seem to hurt them much, and I had to push back my fear as best I could, even while cold worry flooded through me. What if my magic wasn’t enough to defeat them?
All this had happened in the space of a second or two. The horrified priest stepped forward, raising both his hands in an unconscious imitation of the same gesture I had used to drive the demons back, although his intent was very different.
“Stop!” he cried out, and lifted the large cross he wore around his neck. “This is a house of God!”
They’re not that kind of demons, I thought, but I didn’t have time to warn him. Several of the demons made a screeching noise that might have been laughter, and then the priest was grasped by his cassock and thrown backward, slamming into the wall with a thud that made me wince. For one horrible second, I thought they’d killed him, b
ut then I saw one arm move, painfully beginning to push himself up to a sitting position.
Why the hell hadn’t I cast a spell of protection as Rafe and I entered the church? We’d been in a hurry, the last to arrive, but still —
After that thought flitted though my mind, I didn’t have any more time to spare, because the demons circled back, heading again for Louisa, although one of them split off and grabbed Oscar again, this time hurling him with such force that when he hit the ground, he remained still and unmoving. I wasn’t sure why the demons had made Louisa their target, since clearly I was more of a threat to them; her powers as prima weren’t necessarily the kind that could help her here.
Cursing, I once again sent a shockwave toward the demons. It seemed the most I could do — I didn’t know how to dispel demons, and it wasn’t as though I had a sword I could use to chop off their heads…not that I would have known what to do with a sword even if I’d been holding one. Rafe seemed to realize the same thing, because he hurried toward his sister, then crouched down next to her prone body, teeth bared in a snarl, although he still held to his human form for now.
And then it was as though an invisible hand slammed into my chest, knocking me backward so I fell into the center aisle of the church. The demons made that screeching laugh again, a sound that tore at my ears. As I struggled to push myself upright, a tall form materialized on the altar, standing in front of the lectern.
Simon Escobar, although he looked subtly different now, his usual T-shirt and jeans traded for a black shirt and black pants. Maybe he thought it was time to start dressing like a dark warlock, since we all knew now what he was.
He smiled at me, a mocking smile. His eyes shifted toward the left, over to where Rafe knelt next to his sister’s limp form. One hand lifted.
I didn’t know what he intended to do, but it couldn’t be good. “Simon, stop!” I cried.
His gaze traveled back toward me, and one eyebrow lifted slightly. “You want me to stop, Miranda?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice trembling. Sharp little pains from hitting the floor with so much force had begun to spring up all over my body, but I did my best to ignore them as I staggered to my feet. “Please, Simon. None of these people have done anything to you.”
Mysterious Ways Page 11