Luisa shakes her head at me, and I fall silent. Xavi taps me lightly with his foot, and I look up. He’s signaling for me to look at the corner of the room. I follow his gaze. Beside the beds is a dark shadow of a man wedged into the corner. His head is bent low, his back straight, and were it not for his bright white hair I’d have thought he was another of the room’s columns.
“Do you ever get to leave?” I stutter, my eyes inadvertently drifting to Ramon.
“Sometimes, for events,” Jan says. “But not of our own free will. We’re not allowed until we’re ready.”
I can’t let this go. “But you can walk out, the same way we walked in?”
“We could,” says Alba. “But it’s frowned upon, and we don’t want to upset the MA.” Her furtive gaze wanders to where Ramon is. “We need the MA as much as they need us.”
So they need the MA to help them with Ramon? Why? I take another drag of the joint and shake my head. It’s strong.
“What kind of events?” I ask.
“Wakes. Meetings. The MA is obsessed with channeling the knowledge and abilities of the deceased,” Alba explains. “We Nox can amplify any ritual. Our combined power is very strong.”
Jan looks over at his brother, who still hasn’t moved from the corner. “Sometimes too strong.”
I swallow, thinking back to the reason we’re here. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to say something, but Jan is nodding at Xavi, who has his hand on Beatriz’s knee.
“So, what’s your deal? Are you a Warlock?”
Xavi looks completely unphased. “Crow Shifter,” he replies, as if that comes up all the time in everyday conversation.
Beatriz tenses, giving the Nox siblings a defiant look as if challenging them to say something. But they don’t. They both smile.
“Cool,” Alba says. “We like crows.”
Xavi sits up, practically ruffling his feathers with pride.
“Crows bring death with them,” Jan says. He laughs. “Hombre, don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean it in a bad way. Historically, crows have always been the messengers between two worlds. They traverse the veil.”
“And they feast on the dead,” Alba adds giddily, making me shudder.
Not sure how anyone would want these guys at a party, unless it was Halloween.
Jan coughs from the joint. “Speaking of the dead, which one of you is here to talk to the other side?”
We all shuffle uncomfortably, waiting for someone to talk.
Jan laughs again. “It’s OK, I didn’t think you came at night to see us just to share your weed and stare up at our pretty fake moon. Who do you want us to talk to?”
I hear Beatriz shuffling beside me, her arms crossed like she’s trying to protect herself from the dark forces in this creepy room. Good to know I’m not the only one completely unsettled by the triplets. Xavi puts his arms around her, and kisses the crown of her head.
I stand up, wobbling on my feet a little as the strength of Rafi’s herbs hits me.
“My sister went missing nearly two years ago, and I’m scared she might be…” I breathe out heavily. “I just want to know that she’s still alive.”
“We can’t communicate with her if she’s alive,” Jan says, earning him an elbow in the side from Alba.
“That’s the whole point, idiota.”
“Saskia needs peace of mind,” Rafi says, turning his charm on Jan. “We would all really appreciate your help.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Alba fiddles with her phone, and the room fills with soft eerie music. I don’t know if this is part of the ritual or if she just wants to drown out our voices, but Ramon in the corner has started making mumbling sounds, so I’m more than happy about the music.
“They are like the Three Fates in Hercules,” Rafi says to me, gesturing at the siblings.
Alba rolls her eyes. “Stop comparing us to those weird sisters; they only have one eye. If I’m going to be compared to anyone in Hercules, it’s Megara.”
“Here.” Jan passes me a bowl of something. I’m expecting it to be full of bones or crystals, but it’s just corn chips. “For the munchies.”
I frown at Rafi, who replies with a leisurely wink, stretching back on the couch and draping his arm around Jan’s shoulders.
I’m still waiting for them to start the séance, but everyone has gone back to smoking and eating chips. Aren’t we going to get the Ouija board out or something? Shouldn’t we at least draw a dayglo pentagram on the floor and chant?
Luisa and Rafi look completely nonplussed, as if they’ve done this a million times before, but I notice Xavi is holding Beatriz’s hand tightly, their knuckles glowing white in the gloomy light.
My mouth is dry, I need a drink, but I’m too nervous to say anything.
Suddenly, Jan sits up and tips his head to one side. Something dark is dribbling from his ears, trickling over his cheek and down his neck. I cover my mouth, stifling a scream, but no one else is reacting. Instead, they are all looking down respectfully.
I keep staring as Jan’s eyes slowly fill up with the same inky substance leaking from his ears until his eye sockets are entirely black.
I turn to Alba. Her eyes are also black, such a contrast against her white hair. Her lips part a little, the same dark blood oozing out of her mouth and down her chin. She breathes out softly, releasing a puff of black smoke.
My stoned head is screaming the words Zombie Apocalypse over and over again.
At the back of the room Ramon’s mumbles start to get faster and louder, until his head snaps sideways, and he stares at a corner of the room.
“Someone is here,” he says.
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s for you,” Ramon says, pointing at Rafi.
I expect a bigger reaction from my friend, but he stays seated on the couch, his expression grim.
“Not interested.”
“You have to talk to him at some point,” Luisa says.
“No, I don’t.”
Jan turns to Rafi. His face is smudged black from the liquid running down his neck, and although his eyes are still a shiny onyx, they appear to soften as he lays a hand on Rafi’s cheek.
“It might help,” he says gently.
Rafi places his hand on Jan’s and shakes his head. “He had his chance when he was alive. Let him spend an eternity waiting.”
Jan leans closer to Rafi, whispering something in his ear, but Rafi pushes him away. “Drop it.” Rafi rolls his eyes and sighs. “Every fucking time. So annoying, wish he'd just stop.”
Ping.
I school my face into neutral. Whoever is attempting to contact Rafi won’t stop, yet secretly Rafi doesn’t want them to quit trying either.
“Someone else is here!” Ramon announces.
Jesus, if he keeps randomly shouting in the corner, I’ll be the one visiting them from the dead next.
“What are you cooking?” Alba asks slowly. We all turn to her. She’s staring straight ahead, smiling.
“Who is it?” Luisa asks nervously.
I sit up with a jolt, trying to think whether Mikayla ever cooked anything in particular. My heart races.
“She’s old,” says Ramon as if he can hear my thoughts. “White hair. Hunched. Cooking.”
I relax back into my seat. No one speaks. Whoever the old lady is, no one appears to recognize her enough to claim her.
“L’escudella,” Jan mutters. “She says she’s snapping chicken bones and adding them to the broth. I can hear her humming a tune.”
“My abuelita!” Xavi is on his feet, running between Alba and Jan. “It’s my grandmother. It’s her.”
“Your grandson is here,” Alba says softly to the person only she can talk to.
Jan tips his head to the side, listening to the silent voice from beyond. He laughs softly.
“He most certainly is.”
“What is she saying?” Xavi says, falling to his knees before Jan. “Is she OK? Tell me she’s no longer in pain.”
> “El meu nen,” Jan says in Catalan, cupping Xavi’s face with both hands. “Tan maco i fort. Estic bé.”
Xavi’s chin trembles as he swipes his eye with the back of his hand. “She always said that, called me her handsome boy. Oh my god, I miss her so much. Tell her I miss her.”
“She wants you to keep flying high,” Jan says. “She’s proud of you.”
He lets go of Xavi’s face, and the Shifter gets back to his feet with a shaky breath. Beatriz takes his hand, and I expect him to start crying, but instead he’s grinning the world’s largest grin.
“My abuela,” he says again, turning to us one by one. “I just spoke to my abuela! And she’s OK. I can’t believe it.”
He turns and kisses Beatriz.
Another silence follows, the only sound is Xavi’s excitable whispers to Beatriz about his grandmother. I can’t help thinking about Mikayla and the way she crumbled away in my nightmares. Was that a sign she was dead? Was the vision I saw of her on the New York subway her ghost? Did she have the baby?
“It’s cold!” Ramon shouts.
I brace myself. This is it. My sister is here.
“I see snow and blood. So much blood.”
Blood. My own runs cold as ice as memories of Lukka clutching his brothers’ beating heart in his fist flash through my mind. I start to shake, pulling my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around my legs. I can’t do this. I can’t have a conversation with Konstantin. This is just like him, to try and control me even through death.
Before I know it, Luisa is by my side.
“Can I help?” she whispers. I nod, and she lays a hand on my knee until I feel the fear ebb away.
“I was in Russia…” I stammer. “Two months ago… There was a Vampire…”
“Vampires have no souls,” Alba says, staring into the distance. “They can’t cross the veil. Who is this?”
I try and breathe, but my lungs refuse to fill. The silence is long, loaded, cold. Then Jan starts talking.
“Ansel says you must stop worrying about her.”
Ansel? My eyes instantly fill up with tears.
“Ansel,” I choke out. “Tell her I’m so sorry,” I wail, burying my face between my knees. “I should have helped her. I could have saved her. Tell her,” I urge Alba. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
Alba doesn’t look at me. “She can hear you through me.”
“She says she’s happy. She’s with the man she loves,” Jan says. “You have to let her go.”
Mascara stings my eyes as I rub away the tears. Poor Ansel. Luisa hugs me tightly, and I sob into her shoulder.
“Tell her I miss her, and I wish everything had gone differently and…”
“It’s too late,” says Alba. “The dead don’t stay long.”
“What about my sister?” I mumble. “I need to speak to my sister?”
“Not all the dead want to come through,” Jan says with sympathy.
I look up. The darkness is draining from Jan’s eyes, although the whites remain tinged with grey.
Alba takes a deep breath and also returns, dabbing at her mouth with the back of her hand. She swears under her breath and mutters something about her job being so messy.
“Is that it?” I ask, swiveling around to look at Ramon. He hasn’t moved and I can’t see his eyes from this far away.
“What more do you want from us?” Alba snaps. “Three visits is a lot.”
“Yeah, sorry, I just… I need to speak to my sister. It’s why I came. Does this mean she’s still alive? Can’t you just tell me if she’s OK?”
Luisa places her hand on my arm, and I sit back down. I know I’m acting crazy, but it’s the only reason I came to Barcelona. It’s the only reason I’ve agreed to help my mother find Maribel.
Wait!
“Have any of you tried to contact Maribel?”
They all laugh politely, and my cheeks prickle at the realization that I just pointed out the obvious.
“She would come through if she was dead,” Beatriz says, her tone matter of fact.
“Unless she was killed by magic,” Rafi cuts in. “In which case, no one can speak to a Mage on the other side until their body is found.”
Beatriz looks uncomfortable with this conversation, so I decide to drop it. Tonight has been emotional enough.
“They can find your sister if you have an object of hers,” Luisa says.
Alba gives her a pointed look, but Luisa ignores her. I turn to Jan, who nods.
“She’s right. If someone doesn’t come through, we can go in and find them.”
Alba sighs. “Fine. I don’t mind giving it one more try. Do you have a ring of your sister’s, an amulet, her purse? Something valuable to her?”
I don’t have anything of Mikayla’s on me, why would I?
“I have a photo of her on my phone.”
Jan shakes his head. “It needs to be something tangible and precious. Digital photos don’t carry the energy of the deceased.”
Of course. I have all of her belongings back in New York, I took them back home with me after she went missing in LA, but I have nothing of hers here in Barcelona.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, you do,” Alba says, pulling me by my arm and turning my hand over. “You have the same blood coursing through your veins.”
Before I can stop her, she runs her sharp black nail over the palm of my hand, then presses her hand against mine.
“Are you crazy?” I scream, pulling away.
Alba silently walks over to Ramon at the back of the room. I run after her, Jan and the others behind me.
“You fucking cut me. With your fingernail!”
Without so much as a glance at me, she rubs her hands together, so my blood is on both her palms, then holds hands with her brothers.
Fuck. This is it. They are reaching out to my sister.
Rafi pulls me back as the Nox begin to mutter illegibly.
Ramon’s eyes are the first to fill with black, leaking inky tears as he shakes, Alba and Jan’s hands in his. Heads bowed, the three of them start to sway, eyes vacant hollows, dark blood dribbling from Jan’s ears and Alba’s mouth once again.
“Mikayla,” Alba shouts, exhaling wisps of black smoke.
Rafi puts his arm around me, and pulls me to him, Beatriz and Xavi stand behind us, and Luisa takes hold of my hand.
Nothing happens. The triplets keep swaying, their faces and white hair now streaked with dark liquid. Ramon remains silent.
“She’s not coming through,” Jan says. “I can’t hear anything.”
I feel my entire body sag with relief. My sister is alive. She’s still out there.
I smile at Luisa, Beatriz and Rafi, who also look relieved. Of course, they do, they knew her.
Rafi takes his arm away from my shoulder and Luisa turns to head back to the couch, but the Nox haven’t finished yet. Ramon is muttering again, this time his shaking is more violent. He looks distressed.
The room begins to fill with the scent of new books and old ink. I know that smell. It reminds me of when I was younger.
No. It can’t be. This can’t be happening.
“Someone is here,” Ramon shouts.
I know who it is, but I’m not ready. I didn’t come here for that.
“Saskia. He wants Saskia.”
I shake my head. I’m not ready, I wasn’t expecting to speak to my father again thirteen years after he died.
“What does he want?” I stutter.
“He says it’s not your place,” Jan says.
I don’t understand. What isn’t my place? The MA? Spain? This basement?
I shake Alba’s shoulder. “What does he mean? Ask him!”
“He says his time was longer,” Jan continues. “Solina is dangerous.”
I turn to my friends. “What does that mean? His time was longer? He chose when to leave us. He killed himself after he got bitten by a Werewolf.”
Luisa gives me a sympathetic look, but
no one speaks.
“Alba, ask him what he means!” I cry again.
She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes shiny like dark pebbles in a stream. “The dead are dramatic,” she says, her voice flat. “They speak in riddles. It’s not our job to understand but to simply impart. They see things we cannot.”
Does that mean they can find missing people? I rub my eyes, still itchy from my smudged makeup.
“Where’s Maribel?” I shout.
The room goes silent. Maribel didn’t come through earlier, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dead.
“Seek the First in the water,” Jan says.
Rafi gulps. “Water? Like she’s having a bath, on a cruise...or at the bottom of the sea?”
Beatriz huffs behind me. “This could mean anything. Anyway, aren’t we here to find out about your sister, Saskia? Ask him about Mikayla. The dead don’t hang around forever.”
Tears stream hot down my face.
“Papa,” I croak, barely audible. “Where’s Mikayla?”
Jan tilts his head, black ooze trailing a line down his dirty neck. “Mikayla has not crossed the veil.”
I breathe out. It hurts. All of this hurts so much.
“That’s good, right?” I ask. “That has to be good. So, my father doesn’t know where she is. That’s OK, at least it means she’s still…”
I’m interrupted by a strangled gurgle. Ramon’s mouth is open and something stringy and white is bubbling from it. It lulls out like a fat tongue then starts to float towards his face, wrapping around his eyes like bubble gum. He begins to shake as the white substance continues pouring out of his mouth, wrapping itself around his face. Alba and Jan’s eyes have cleared, and they’re pulling at the sticky string. Alba is swearing, and Jan has grown pale.
“He won’t let go,” Alba cries, her voice straining as she claws at the strange substance. It’s getting tighter over Ramon’s face, his eyes bulging and his lips twitching, trying to form words.
“We have to cut the connection,” Jan shouts. “He’s coming through.”
Coming through? My father?
“Papa!” I scream. “Where is Mikayla?”
Ramon stops shaking, and his head falls forward.
“Saskia.” It’s my father’s voice. “Go where the wolf meets the bear.”
Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles Book 2) Page 12