The Witches of Canyon Road, Books 1-3

by Christine Pope

  I really didn’t have an answer to that question, mostly because I hadn’t been acquainted with the Castillos long enough to even begin to know who they all were, what their individual talents and strengths might be. Despite that particular lack of knowledge, I couldn’t believe that Simon thought he alone would be able to prevail against them, even with a bunch of demons under his control. They’d mounted a fairly serious attack, true, but Simon had only had seven or eight demons fighting on his side. It would take a lot more than that to beat a clan made up of hundreds of witches and warlocks.

  “You tell me,” I returned. “You’re the one who’s made such an in-depth study of the Castillo clan.”

  “They have a few powerful witches and warlocks,” he allowed. “But not enough. Their new prima is a joke. And now that they can’t bring in outside help — ”

  “Yeah, how did you manage to do that, anyway?” I cut in, genuinely curious. Just because I didn’t approve of Simon’s methods — to put it mildly — that didn’t mean I wasn’t eager to learn something of the spells he’d deployed.

  His mouth curled slightly, as though he was amused by my question. A wicked light in his black eyes, he said, “Trade secret.”

  I should have known. No way was Simon going to tell me anything that might allow me to subvert his efforts — at least not until he was sure of my loyalty.

  And that was never going to happen.

  “But Miranda,” he went on, moving closer to me. My entire body stiffened, although I refused to retreat. I didn’t want to give him that power over me. “You want to know what I want out of all this? That’s easy enough. I want you, of course, but you at my side, not some kind of hostage. Like I told you before, we’re two of a kind. There are no other witches or warlocks like us in the world.”

  “That you know of,” I said, my voice sounding shaky even to myself.

  He didn’t appear put off by my comment. Instead, his smile only returned, wider this time. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we would have heard of it, even as isolated as the clans tend to be. I know word about my father’s exploits — ”

  “Crimes,” I cut in.

  “ — went everywhere in America, maybe the world,” Simon went on without missing a beat. “People knew, because he was so out of the ordinary. Which means if there was anyone else like him out there — or me, or you — then we would have heard about it, if only for word to get out in the clans that people needed to keep their guard up.”

  I supposed he had a point. However, since I really didn’t want to admit that he might be right, I only shrugged and said in grudging tones, “Maybe.”

  “Anyway, it makes much more sense for us to work together, rather than being at odds. I have no idea why Isabel Castillo thought it was so important for you to be here with her grandson, because it’s so obvious that you don’t belong with him. You belong with me.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said. “If you think I would ever agree to go along with your horrible plans, you’re crazy. And you’re just as crazy if you think I’m going to suddenly switch off my feelings for Rafe and transfer them to you.”

  For a second, Simon’s expression clouded. Then he shook his head, clearly doing what he could to shrug off my protests. “I don’t think so. You’ll figure it out soon enough. Rafe can do nothing for you.”

  “Except love me.”

  This time, the frown that twisted Simon’s features lingered, and once again he moved toward me, this time so less than a foot separated us. More than anything, I wanted to turn and run away, although I knew that he could catch me easily. Besides, even teleporting out of here wouldn’t do anything except make him so angry that he’d probably send his demons after me, or, worse, after the people I cared about — Rafe, Cat, Eduardo.

  “You think I don’t love you, Miranda?” Simon asked. Fear held me still, because I was worried that if I tried to move away, he would only reach out and grab me, pull me toward him. “Everything I’ve done has been for you.”

  There was no mistaking the intensity in his voice, his expression. He really did believe he loved me, which only made him that much more dangerous.

  “No, Simon,” I said carefully. “I think you’re obsessed with me, which isn’t the same thing. If you love someone, you don’t want to hurt them, or the people who are important to them. But all you’ve done is prove how much you enjoy hurting the Castillos.”

  “Maybe it’s more that they’re so easy to hurt,” he replied. Eyes still glittering, he reached out and took my hand. As much as I wanted to snatch it back, I knew I didn’t quite dare. “Weak, all of them. Neither Malena nor Louisa should have fallen into comas like that, but their spirits weren’t strong enough to handle the backlash from my demon-summoning spells. Is that my fault? A true prima — hell, even a true prima’s daughter — shouldn’t have succumbed that easily.”

  Was it true? I didn’t know what to believe, and yet, strangely, I thought Simon was being honest with me here. “As opposed to the spell you sent against their mother,” I said.

  His mouth twisted. “Oh, yeah, I already told you I wanted that bitch dead. And I wanted her to drop dead in front of her family members. That was why I sent the spell when I did, rather than waiting until she was asleep, or at least alone in her house. I wanted all of them to know how vulnerable they were.”

  “But…why?” I asked, still wishing I had the courage to pull my arm from his grasp. “What twisted reason could you have for making them all afraid, when it was Genoveva you had a vendetta against?”

  He let go of my arm, but I couldn’t be all that relieved, not when he lifted the same hand and used it to brush a tendril of hair away from my face. Still wearing that twisted smirk of a smile, he replied, “I thought that should be obvious.”

  “Well, it’s not.”

  His gaze moved from me toward the window. The Sangre de Cristos were much farther away from this vantage point but still recognizable, which was how I knew he was staring straight into the heart of Santa Fe.

  “It’s because I plan to take them over, just as my father took control of the Santiagos.”

  11

  Reaching Out

  Rafe

  He hated this. He hated having to be here in his house, packing enough stuff for a time away of indeterminate length. He hated the thought of having to go stay in the home where his mother died.

  Most of all, he hated the thought of Miranda in Simon’s clutches, with absolutely no idea of what might be happening to her.

  Unfortunately, Cat was probably right. It would be safer for them to be together. Rafe didn’t really know what either his father or his sister could do to protect him, but he figured if he was in wolf form, he might be able to rip out the throats of a few of those miserable demons if they dared to show their ugly faces anywhere around here.

  That is, if he didn’t completely choke again. He still couldn’t quite figure out what had prevented him from shifting into wolf or coyote form and going after Simon, despite the odds stacked against him. Was it some strange kind of worry about having Father Francis see him make such a transformation?

  Possibly. Cat had been able to bald-face her way through an explanation of the demons, but watching the son of one of his most prominent parishioners turn into a wolf before his eyes would have needed a lot more explaining. Even Cat probably couldn’t have convinced the priest that there was nothing strange about that kind of a display.

  Whatever the reason, there wasn’t much Rafe could do about it now, except vow that it would never happen again. Unfortunately, he very much feared he might not get a second chance to prove himself to Miranda.

  Scowling, he went out to the garage, threw his two duffle bags in the back seat of the Wrangler, then opened the garage door and backed out. The house had come with a security system, but he never used it. Not much point, when pretty much everyone in Santa Fe knew to leave the properties that belonged to the Castillos severely alone.

  Would Miranda’s spell of protection keep
out ordinary civilian burglars? For that matter, was the spell even still active? Since Rafe wasn’t the one who’d cast it, he couldn’t feel the thing, couldn’t sense it working. Miranda had made it sound as though it was the sort of spell that would keep working until she nullified it, but he didn’t know for sure. She could be so far away that the energy which kept it alive had been attenuated to the point of uselessness.

  No, somehow he knew that wasn’t the case. For whatever reason, Simon Escobar seemed compelled to hang around in the greater Santa Fe area. You’d think that now he had his prize, he would have taken off, but if he did that, he wouldn’t be close enough to carry out his threats of revenge should Miranda get out of line. The dark warlock was holding her hostage with those threats, and that was yet another aspect to the situation that Rafe really hated. Simon wanted to hurt the Castillos, or else he could have just grabbed Miranda and taken off. She must know that as well, which was why Rafe feared she might bend to Simon’s will, just to protect her new family.

  By now it was mid-afternoon. Cat had texted him a few minutes ago that Genoveva had been interred without incident at Rosario Cemetery, the same place where generations of Castillos had been buried. Rafe couldn’t even feel anything about that particular piece of news, except to experience a certain weary relief in knowing his mother’s body was safely buried. There hadn’t been any interference. No one had known who’d gone into that hole in the ground, because of course the headstone wouldn’t be ready for several weeks. Eduardo had sent instructions to make sure the flowers that had rested on her casket were placed on her grave, but that would be the only marker to show that Genoveva Castillo, former prima of the Castillo clan, now rested there.

  Rafe pulled up into the driveway of the big house and parked the Jeep; he no longer had a remote to open the garage door. No matter; even a Castillo might get a parking ticket if their vehicle remained on the street overnight, but the Santa Fe police couldn’t ticket people for leaving their vehicles out in their driveways, even if the cops might want to.

  After pulling his two bags out of the back seat, he locked the car and let himself in through the garden gate, following the path that led through the dry and dreary gardens to the door off the patio. As he went along, he tried not to think of how he had walked here with Miranda, how he had done his best to push her away. Thank God he hadn’t been successful.

  Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. If he hadn’t allowed Miranda McAllister to enter his heart and soul, maybe he wouldn’t be hurting so badly now.

  A touch on the handle of the French door that opened onto the back patio, and he let himself into the living room. Voices came to him from the direction of the kitchen, so he turned that way, even though some part of him wanted to head upstairs and put his things away before he had to face his father and sister.

  Cat and Eduardo were sitting at the kitchen table, both of them with mugs clutched in their hands. From the sweet-spice smell in the air, Rafe guessed they were drinking the strong cinnamon tea that Genoveva had liked so much. She’d drunk that tea all through his childhood and youth, and breathing in the aroma seemed to take him back years, to the time when the only thing he had to worry about was his next argument with his mother. He wished he could go back in time and apologize to her for being such an ass. Unfortunately, the time for such apologies was now past.

  “Hey,” he said as he came in.

  “Hi,” Cat replied.

  Eduardo responded, “Rafe. I’m glad Cat convinced you to come stay here. Do you want some tea?”

  “No, thanks.” While he appreciated the scent of the tea, it was too sharp and spicy for him. Right then, he thought what he could really use was a beer, although he knew better than to ask for one now. Maybe later, if he and Cat had the opportunity to talk alone.

  Instead, he went and got a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge — no one in the house had ever trusted the stuff that was piped through the refrigerator door — and then came over and sat down at the table, across from his father and next to Cat.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Not really,” he replied tightly. Then he added, “Is everything else quiet so far?”

  “So far,” Eduardo replied. His fingers tapped against the creamy stoneware of the mug he held. “Yesenia made sure Louisa was home and safe. Her condition hasn’t changed, but Yesenia is still hopeful that she’ll wake up soon. In the meantime, their children are going to stay with Rosalie and Luis down in Corrales. They always enjoy visiting there, and it will be one less thing for Oscar to worry about.”

  “And Malena?”

  “The same,” Cat said. “Although John doesn’t want to send Elenia to stay with relatives, even though Yesenia said she thought it might be a good idea. I guess if the situation continues for much longer, he’ll have to decide if he really wants to keep running after a two-year-old while watching over his wife, but we’ve all decided to stay out of it for now.”

  Which was probably a good idea. John could be prickly, although he was a decent enough guy. Right now, it didn’t seem as though Malena needed a lot of care, and John was probably more stressed at the idea of not being able to watch over his child than at the thought of having to keep up with her.

  “But nothing else is going on.”

  “That we know of,” Eduardo said. “The word has gone out, so everyone knows to get in touch with me if they encounter anything out of the ordinary, but so far all seems to be quiet enough.”

  Good. That meant Rafe and Eduardo and Cat could focus on tracking down Simon Escobar. He said as much, and Cat nodded.

  “I already called Daniel and asked him to look into anything in the La Cienega area that might have been rented in the past few weeks, anything that could have been offered on Airbnb or one of the other vacation housing sites,” she said, then sipped at her tea. “He’s on it.”

  “Maybe more than that,” Rafe replied. “I’d have him look into recent sales of property in the area, too.”

  “You think Simon would have bought a house there?” Eduardo inquired, looking vaguely surprised. “He’s very young.”

  “I don’t think that makes a difference if his money is good,” Cat said dryly. “Knowing him, he could’ve stolen a chunk from somewhere and is using it to finance all his activities.”

  “Probably using faked identification and any other paperwork he needs to cover his tracks,” Rafe added. “You know he’d make sure his real name didn’t show up on anything that could leave a trail.”

  Eduardo frowned. “Which will make it harder to track him.”

  “Well, we knew this wouldn’t be easy.” Even as he spoke, however, Rafe sensed a glimmer of hope within himself. It felt good to have Cat approaching this so methodically, like a puzzle that needed to be solved, rather than being panicked and running off in all directions. That was what Rafe had felt like doing ever since Miranda disappeared with Simon, even though he knew such an approach wouldn’t have helped at all.

  “No,” she said. “On the upside, I know Simon isn’t going to hurt Miranda, Rafe. I saw how he was looking at her.” Rafe winced, and she went on quickly, “I’m not saying that to pour salt in the wound or anything. But if he’s trying to work on her, trying to convince her he isn’t the bad guy — ”

  “Seems like a waste of time,” Rafe cut in, annoyed. “Since we all know he’s the bad guy.”

  “True, but….” She trailed off for a second, then said, “You know that old saying about how everyone’s the hero of their own story? Well, I’m sure Simon feels the same way. He’s probably trying to convince her that the world has wronged him somehow, and he’s just trying to get his own back. I’m not saying Miranda is going to fall for it, but if that’s his approach, it means we should have some time to figure all this out.”

  “And then we will catch up with him before anything can happen,” Eduardo said.

  That all sounded hopeful. Maybe too hopeful. Still, Rafe could see what Cat was drivin
g at. Simon wanted Miranda to love him, and so he would be careful about what strategies he employed to bring her around to his side. The last thing he’d want to do was alienate her…although he’d already made a pretty good attempt at that, considering the demon attack in the church and its aftermath. Then again, Simon would probably be quick to explain that he hadn’t killed anyone else, which was true enough. Cat was fine, and while Louisa and Malena definitely weren’t, neither were they at death’s door.

  “You could be right,” Rafe allowed. “That doesn’t mean we should drag our feet on this. Besides, even though we’re focused on La Cienega, there are other places that aren’t too far away where he could have gone.”

  “Not a lot,” Cat said. “I mean, there are plenty of isolated properties in Santa Fe County, but if you and Miranda thought he’d also be looking for a place that backed up to a river or a creek because it would be more defensible, then that narrows it down a good bit.”

  True. La Cienega sprang to mind first, but there was also tiny Cerrillos, where the Rio Galisteo wound its way through the old mining town. But no, that didn’t make a lot of sense. In a place that small, the arrival of someone like Simon would be sure to attract attention. Maybe Pecos? It seemed a little too far out, but if they were going to start casting their net that wide, then they’d also have to consider possibly Española, or farther upstream, in one of the little hamlets that clustered along the banks of the Rio Grande as it wound its way down from Taos…Velarde, or Dixon, or Embudo.

  No, none of those possibilities felt right to him. Maybe downstream, in Rio Rancho, or the northern semi-rural part of Albuquerque, where wineries had sprung up in the last few decades or so. He knew there were properties that backed up to the river in that part of the world. Problem was, once you started looking outside Santa Fe proper, there were just too many places where someone like Simon Escobar could have gone to ground.