Mysterious Ways

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Mysterious Ways Page 13

by Christine Pope


  Eduardo got up from the pew where he’d been sitting, and the two of them went to Louisa and eased her up off the ground. She felt very heavy in Rafe’s arms, even though she was slender enough. Maybe it was just that the life force within her seemed as though it had gone very far away, leaving behind only dead weight.

  Despite that, Rafe and his father were able to carry her outside without too much trouble, pausing for just a moment as Oscar unlocked the rear door of his car and opened it wide so they could lay her on the seat there.

  “I’ll follow you back to your house,” Yesenia said. “Then we’ll do what we can to get her comfortable.”

  “What if she stays in the coma for days and days?” Oscar asked, worry pulling at his brows. “Won’t she need an IV or something?”

  “Hopefully, she won’t stay unconscious that long. But yes, if she’s out for more than twenty-four hours, we’ll have to take more drastic measures.” She gave him a reassuring smile, laid her hand on his arm. “I am a healer, but I also have training in these things. I can take care of Louisa as long as her condition doesn’t worsen.”

  “And Malena?” Eduardo asked. He’d stepped back out of the way once Louisa had been safely set down on the back seat.

  “Her condition is the same. Actually, her coma isn’t as deep as I feared, because when I squeezed some water into her mouth, she swallowed. Her reflexes are there.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Cat asked. Her arms were crossed tightly, almost as if she hugged herself, although Rafe had a feeling she wasn’t so much cold as trying to reassure herself that she was actually okay.

  “It’s a very good thing,” Yesenia replied, offering a reassuring smile. “That’s what I told John. If we can keep getting her to drink, then she runs less risk of becoming dehydrated, and we won’t have to give her an I.V. Since Louisa’s condition looks similar, I have to hope we can do the same for her.” She turned toward Oscar, who was now hovering near the driver’s door, the key fob to the Volvo in his hand. “We should get Louisa home. Even if she can’t consciously feel it at the moment, she’ll be more comfortable in her own bed.”

  Oscar nodded, then gave a half-hearted wave to everyone watching as he got in the car. Yesenia murmured a quick goodbye to Eduardo, Rafe, and Cat, then went over to her Ford SUV and climbed in.

  “What now?” Cat asked.

  Eduardo’s gaze moved back toward the chapel. “I would like to say goodbye to Genoveva. José’s people will be here soon to take the coffin away, and since we can’t be there at her graveside when she’s interred….”

  Oh, God. Rafe had almost forgotten about that, thanks to all the tumult. He supposed he should be glad that the demon attack had left his mother’s coffin undisturbed, since that would have made an already horrible situation truly dreadful. Deep down, he had a feeling that they would be perfectly safe going to the cemetery and being there as Genoveva’s coffin was lowered into the ground, since Simon Escobar now had what he wanted — Miranda — but he kept his thoughts to himself. They’d already mentally prepared themselves to not be present, and he didn’t see the point in changing their plans now.

  Besides, even if he thought it might be safe, Rafe couldn’t be absolutely sure. For all he knew, Escobar would go back on his promise to Miranda as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Better that they not make targets out of themselves.

  “Sure, Dad,” he said. “I think I’ll wait out here, though.”

  Eduardo nodded, as though he wasn’t too surprised that his only son would want to excuse himself from such a vigil. “Cat?”

  “You go on inside,” she said. “I’ve — I’ve made my goodbyes. And I really don’t want to go back in there.”

  Although her reply clearly saddened their father, he didn’t try to argue with her. “Of course. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Take as much time as you need,” Cat told him, laying a hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze.

  A resigned smile, and Eduardo went back into the church. Rafe watched him go, hating the slump of his shoulders, the way he didn’t seem quite as tall as he had been a few days ago. Once he was gone, Cat looked up at Rafe.

  “What now?”

  “I don’t have a frigging idea,” he said. God, he hated this feeling of impotence, of knowing that the woman he loved was in Simon Escobar’s hands and that there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it. “I guess we put our heads together and try to figure out where that son of a bitch is hiding.”

  She nodded, gaze moving past him to the street just beyond the church, where cars moved along placidly and people made their way along the sidewalk, pausing here and there to look in a storefront, or to consult their phones. Despite the brisk wind — or maybe because of it — the day was clear and bright, if cool. Santa Fe appeared completely serene.

  Too bad Rafe knew that all kinds of ugliness lurked just under the surface.

  “I think you should come stay with Dad and me,” Cat said. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone in that house.”

  “Miranda put a protection spell on it,” he protested. While he knew that Cat had a point, he didn’t want to go back to the big house where he’d grown up. He’d never liked it, and now, knowing that his mother had died there….

  “I know,” Cat replied calmly. “But there’s also one on our house. And I’d just feel safer if you were with us. Please?”

  He stared down at her, saw the naked pleading in her face. None of this could have been easy for Cat — her mother dead, her two older sisters in strange, magically induced comas. And that didn’t even include having a strange psychic reaction every time Escobar decided to deploy his demons for a new bit of nastiness.

  Of course Cat would want her family around her. Really, it was selfish of him to remain on his own, especially when he knew she’d be worrying about him every single minute he was alone in his house.

  “Okay,” he said, doing his best to keep the reluctance out of his voice. “Just let me get back there and pack some stuff, and then I’ll come over.”

  Some of the tension seemed to leave her face, and she gave him a relieved smile. “Thanks, Rafe. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. It’ll make it easier for us to work on finding Miranda.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  She sounded almost hopeful. Rafe didn’t want to discourage her or make her worry that much greater, but he had a feeling this search would be far from easy. However, as Cat had pointed out earlier, he had been able to track down Miranda before, although at least then he’d had a few leads, nebulous as they might be.

  Now, he had nothing. Sooner or later, though, he’d find Simon Escobar. And when he did….

  I’m going to kill him.

  10

  Gilded Cage

  Miranda

  As soon as solid ground touched my feet again, I pulled away from Simon Escobar, leaving him clutching empty air.

  However, he didn’t seem angered by the immediate distance I’d put between us. Again he wore that almost lazy smile, as though he knew he had the upper hand here. “Welcome home,” he said.

  I took a quick glance around. As far as I could tell, his new hideout looked like a typical pueblo-style Santa Fe house, with high beamed ceilings and tile floors. We stood in the eating area off the kitchen, which was shiny and appeared to have been recently remodeled, all top-of-the-line stainless appliances and polished stone countertops. “This isn’t my home,” I flung back at him, and he shrugged.

  “It is now. You agreed to come with me. Remember what will happen if you change your mind.”

  I swallowed, recalling how Louisa lay on the floor of the church, not moving, how Cat also had appeared to be knocked out, or worse. As much as I hated the sight of Simon Escobar, the sound of his voice, I hated even more the thought of being responsible for the deaths of any more Castillos, especially Cat or Rafe.

  God, Rafe.

  His voice cracking as he called
out to me, the utter despair on his face. The memory tore through me even now, reminding me that, no matter how much I loved him, I had to walk away if I wanted him to live.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere. That doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”

  One eyebrow lifted. “Really? You’re going to play it that way, Miranda?”

  “How else am I supposed to play it? Threatening to hurt or kill the people I care about isn’t exactly the best way to endear yourself to me, you know.”

  For a moment, Simon didn’t reply. He only stood there, watching me carefully. Then he gave the faintest hitch of his shoulders, as though he’d assessed my current mood and realized there was no real way to gain any ground with me. Not right away.

  Not ever, I thought.

  “I only wanted to point out that they weren’t worthy of you, Miranda,” he said. “The prima of the clan, your supposed fiancé, Genoveva’s youngest daughter — none of them mounted any kind of a defense. You were the only one who stood up to my demons, who had any kind of an effect on them.”

  “That wasn’t their fault.” I crossed my arms, even though it wasn’t that chilly in the house. Actually, the temperature inside was almost uncomfortably warm. I would have pushed up the sleeves of my sweater, but I didn’t want Simon to think that I’d been put off balance by my new surroundings. “We’re witches, not demon hunters.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I added, “How were you able to summon those demons, anyway?”

  A careless shrug. “It’s a talent that runs in my family. Supposedly, my brother could perform the same kind of summonings. It’s not so difficult, if you know what you’re doing.” He came closer, and I had to force myself not to flinch, even though he made no move to reach out and touch me. “I’m surprised no one told you about how he once sent demons to your little town in the mountains.”

  Actually, I had heard the story. Before I was born, when my parents and the three Arizona witch clans fought against Joaquin Escobar and the Santiago clan he controlled, demons had attacked on the border of Jerome. Levi, one of the elders — although he hadn’t been one at the time — had driven them back, then done what he could to help ward the town against any further incursions. If it hadn’t been for him, I really didn’t know what could have happened. The McAllister witches and warlocks weren’t known for the defensive magic, and could have been easily overcome. Possibly my parents working together might have succeeded, but they hadn’t come into the fullness of their combined powers yet. At any rate, it had been a scary time, and when Matías Escobar died someplace in the otherworld, everyone had hoped that the ability to summon demons had died with him.

  Apparently not.

  “Ancient history,” I said with a shrug, doing my best to hide the fear that sent icy tentacles to every limb. If Simon could summon demons with what amounted to the snap of a finger, what else could he do? “We didn’t discuss it much because it didn’t seem as though anyone else could call demons to this world.”

  “Short-sighted. Anyway, it’s clear these Castillos aren’t exactly as impressive as everyone thinks they are. You’re wasting your talents on them…on him.”

  I didn’t bother to ask who Simon meant by “him.” “I think your opinion might be slightly biased.”

  “Probably. But just because it’s biased doesn’t mean it’s not accurate.” Once again he moved closer, and this time he took me by the elbow. More than anything I wanted to wrench my arm from his grasp, but I knew I walked a very thin line between attempting to keep my distance and provoking him into a reaction that might bring more harm to the Castillos. “You need to forget about Rafe, Miranda. You’re here with me now.” With his other hand, he reached out touch my hair, push it back over my shoulder.

  This time, I couldn’t quite hold back a shudder. However, I forced a casual note into my voice as I said, “Just so you know, Simon, Rafe and I have already had sex…multiple times. The last time was just last night, so you might want to hold off on making any moves if you don’t want his sloppy seconds.”

  A dark, angry light kindled in Simon’s eyes and his lip curled, although he didn’t step away from me. “Didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  “Why would we? We’re supposed to be together. Nothing you’ve done can change that.”

  Abruptly, he let go of my arm. Still sneering, he said, “‘Supposed to be together’? According to whom? It’s not like you’re some prima bonding to her consort. The only reason you were with Rafe Castillo in the first place is because his bitch of a mother wouldn’t let it go and insisted that you two get married.”

  I almost retorted that having sex with Rafe did feel like that kind of bonding, but refrained. For one thing, that particular detail was just a bit too intimate for me to want to share it with Simon Escobar. Also, his comment set me wondering about the times Rafe and I had made love. Sex with him had felt amazingly intense, to the point where I honestly couldn’t imagine ever having sex with anyone else. Maybe there actually was some kind of bonding going on, something no one could have predicted. For all I knew, this was what Rafe’s grandmother Isabel had seen before she died, why she had made it clear that her grandson needed to marry the daughter my mother had been carrying at the time.

  However, there was no way in hell I was going to tell Simon that. Let him think what he wanted.

  Ignoring my lack of response, he went on, “I will feel a little bad if anything’s happened to Cat. She’s pretty hot. But I sure as hell am not going to apologize for killing that bitch Genoveva Castillo. She deserved it. If she hadn’t made sure you were sent here to marry her stupid son, I could have approached you back in Arizona, and none of this ugliness would have needed to happen.”

  “Nice deflection, Simon,” I shot back. “Putting your predilection for murder aside, do you really think my parents would have let you get within ten feet of me? They would have sniffed out your dark magic and sent you packing.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m pretty good at hiding it when I need to.”

  Again I wanted to argue, but I knew he was at least partially right. He’d been able to hide his magical nature from me over a period of more than a week, had been able to conceal it from a couple of Castillo witches when they’d only been sitting a few feet away from us in a restaurant. There was no reason to think my parents would be able to detect his abilities when he was working so hard to keep them hidden. They probably would have thought he was a member of the de la Paz clan and would have welcomed him, especially if he’d been able to awaken my powers when no one else could.

  He had paused and was watching me closely, clearly waiting for some kind of a response. Since I had none, except an exaggerated shrug, he smiled to himself, then said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say. Come on upstairs so I can show you where you’re going to be staying.”

  Since refusing to do as he asked didn’t seem to be an option, I only followed him in silence, praying that he wasn’t going to put me in his bedroom. It would be just like him to force the issue, and I honestly didn’t know how I could react in a way that would tell him I had no intention of sharing his bed, and at the same time manage to keep the Castillos safe.

  At the top of the stairs was a sort of landing, with a small sitting area outfitted with a love seat and low table, and a couple of those old-fashioned, rustic-looking lamps with the amber mica shades. We went past that and into the first doorway on the right. A bedroom, true, but definitely not the master; it wasn’t large enough, and the bed was a small single, with a painted table serving as its nightstand.

  To my surprise, the duffle bag I’d left behind at the house in Tesuque was sitting on that narrow bed. As I stared down at it, Simon said, “I brought this along. I figured you’d need some of your stuff.”

  I wasn’t about to thank him. All I did was lift my shoulders and say, “I suppose it could come in handy.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my gracious Miranda. The bathroom is across the hall. And my
bedroom is down at the end of the hall, if you should need me.”

  “I doubt that’s ever going to happen.”

  The faintly amused expression he’d been wearing disappeared, to be replaced by an intense black stare I recognized all too well. “Oh, it’s going to happen,” he said. “Not today, or tomorrow, but someday you’ll realize that we were meant to be together, that this infatuation with Rafe Castillo means nothing. In the meantime…go ahead and get settled in, then come downstairs.”

  I didn’t bother to reply as he left the room, his footsteps sounding on the tile staircase a moment later. Instead, I stood there for a moment and pulled in a few breaths, willing myself to stay calm. If I allowed fear to overtake me, I wouldn’t be able to deal with Simon in any kind of an effective way. What I needed to do now was wait and see what he had planned, and do my best to keep him at arm’s length until I figured out how to extricate myself from this mess.

  So I went over to the bed and unzipped the duffle, then began to methodically remove its contents and set them out in neat piles, depending on where they were going to be put away. Underwear here, jeans and T-shirts there, sweaters off to one side, toiletries in a pile that would eventually end up in the bathroom.

  Everything seemed to be present and accounted for — everything except the wedding dress I’d been wearing when I’d first run to Simon, thinking he would be my refuge. I’d had it folded as tightly as I could and stuffed into one end of the duffle, without much regard for the silk fabric. At the time, I’d been so angry with Rafe that I hadn’t cared how I treated that damn wedding gown. But now the dress was gone.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what its absence meant.

  Better to put that worry aside. I had far more important things to concern me at the moment. As it was, I decided to change into jeans and a different sweater, one not so close-fitting. The dress I was wearing had seemed modest enough when I put it on — it came down to just the tops of my knees — but I couldn’t help remembering the way Simon had ogled my legs back at the church. Better to be as covered up as possible.

 

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