The Witches of Canyon Road, Books 1-3

by Christine Pope

  He expelled a breath, then said, “Well, we’ll stay focused on La Cienega for now, and if that doesn’t turn up anything, we’ll start looking at other options. It’s probably best not to have Daniel scatter his resources too much anyway.”

  “True.” Cat reached into her backpack purse, which had been hanging off the ladder-back chair where she was sitting, and pulled out her new phone. She went to the list of her recent messages, then typed out a rapid-fire message — to Daniel, Rafe presumed, to let him check the property records in La Cienega and environs for any recent sales.

  It was probably a long shot. Even paying cash, you just didn’t buy a house overnight, which was basically the timeframe they were working with. Unless Simon had been planning for a backup hideout all along, knowing that the situation in Tesuque wouldn’t last forever. Although Rafe hadn’t had a chance to ask Miranda all the questions he’d wanted to — so much had been going on, they’d barely had a spare moment to catch their breaths — he knew that Simon had been watching Miranda for a long time. The chances of him plotting all this out well beforehand were fairly high.

  “Ask Daniel to check the records going back a year,” he said, and although Cat arched an eyebrow at him, she didn’t miss a beat, just kept on with her texting.

  “Do you really think Simon Escobar might have been planning this for that long?” Eduardo inquired after taking a sip of his cinnamon tea.

  Rafe shrugged. “At this point, I’m not willing to dismiss anything out of hand, just because I know that Simon has been obsessing over Miranda for a lot longer than I really want to think about.” If he’d been speaking only to Cat, he might have added, “the fucker,” but he knew the profanity wouldn’t go over too well. Eduardo was far more patient and relaxed than anyone who’d been married to Genoveva Castillo for more than thirty years had any right to be, but even he had his limits.

  “That’s troubling.”

  There’s an understatement, Rafe thought. “Yeah, it is. I guess he started thinking they were supposed to be together because they’re both children of a prima and a primus, some weird kind of soul-mate situation. To someone with Simon Escobar’s twisted logic, I suppose it makes some kind of sense. But of course Miranda doesn’t feel that way — could never feel that way.”

  “You love her very much, don’t you?”

  The question made Rafe pause. He was uncomfortably aware of his sister sitting next to him. Yes, she appeared to be busy with her text convo with Daniel, but still. Although he knew that Cat must be aware of how he felt about Miranda, it was hard to come out and say it so baldly. They weren’t a family that was comfortable with showing emotion. A lot of that had been due to Genoveva’s iron rule, but still….

  And she’s not here anymore. You need to mourn her, but you also need to recognize that she doesn’t control you anymore. You, or anyone else in this family.

  “Yes,” Rafe said, hands cupped around the glass of water in front of him. “I love her a lot. And that makes me an even bigger jerk, because I spent so much time trying to figure out how to get out of being married to her. Now all I want is for her to be my wife.”

  “She will be,” Eduardo replied, his voice strong with conviction, his expression far more serene than it should be. “You will find her, and you will make a happy life together.”

  Rafe wished he could be that confident. At the moment, all he could think about was how it would be so easy to hide Miranda away somewhere obscure, a place where none of them would ever bother to look. And they didn’t have Marco anymore. There was no one else in the Castillo clan with the ability to find missing people.

  Unless…unless they reached out to another clan. The McAllisters were completely off limits, thanks to the dark spell Simon had cast to keep them all penned in New Mexico’s borders, but what about the Montoyas? After all, their prima had said to ask if they needed any help with their missing “cousin.” And Miranda was still missing, even if this was a different circumstance than the one that had sent Rafe and Cat to San Antonio, looking for any leads that could help them find his vanished fiancée.

  It would be taking a hell of a risk, though. He supposed someone from the clan could simply attempt to inch their way across the border — even if they crashed into a barrier, they wouldn’t cause too much damage beyond a dented bumper at those low speeds. But….

  He sat up suddenly, an idea racing its way across his brain. “Dad, are there any Castillos near the Texas border — maybe in Clovis — who have civilian spouses? I can’t keep track of everyone.”

  Eduardo’s head tilted to one side as he stared up at the ceiling, obviously pondering the question. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, your cousin James’s wife is a civilian. Lorena.”

  “Perfect. Can you call him and see if Lorena would mind driving over into Texas? Just across the border and back.”

  For a moment, Eduardo stared at him, mystified. Then he said, “Ah — you want to find out whether the barrier Simon put up will keep out civilians as well, or whether it’s somehow keyed to our witch blood.”

  Even as Rafe nodded, Cat set down her phone and said, eyes shining, “And if Lorena can get across, then she can go into Texas and see if any of the Montoyas will help us.”

  “Exactly,” Rafe replied.

  “A good plan,” Eduardo said, although he frowned almost immediately afterward. “But won’t the barrier keep the Montoyas out?”

  “That’s what we need to test next, if it turns out that a civilian can get through. Maybe the spell is sort of like a membrane, permeable on one side but not the other.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Eduardo pushed back his chair and stood up. “All the contact information for the clan members is stored on Genoveva’s computer.” Sorrow flickered in his dark eyes, but his voice was firm enough as he continued, “Luckily, I have the password. Give me a moment to look up James’s phone number and make the call.”

  He went out of the kitchen, leaving Cat and Rafe alone. She didn’t exactly smile, but he could tell she was hopeful that maybe they’d come up with a way to make an end run around Simon Escobar.

  “Do you really think the Montoyas will help?”

  About all Rafe could do was lift his shoulders. “I hope so. I mean, it’s in their best interests to make sure that a dark warlock doesn’t set up shop in the territory next to theirs. It’s the same reason why we Castillos got involved in the fight more than twenty years ago.”

  “I hope this one will turn out a little better,” Cat replied, suddenly looking much more subdued.

  Considering that their mother was dead and their two sisters were currently in comas, Rafe wasn’t sure how it could get much worse. But then, Cat was still all right, and so was Eduardo. It could get a lot worse if Simon took it into his head to go on a rampage. About all Rafe could do was hope that, whatever might be happening with Miranda and the dark warlock, she was cooperating enough that he would have no reason to lash out.

  What if that cooperation includes sleeping with him? he thought suddenly, blood going cold. Are you still going to think it was all worth it?

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Having sex with someone you hated would be terrible, but it wasn’t as horrible as murder…not by a long shot.

  But he trusted Miranda. She was smart and strong and capable. If it came to that, she might capitulate, just to make sure no one else was sacrificed, but Rafe thought she would do everything she could to keep stringing Simon along, to make sure she never completely extinguished his hope but also never gave her body over to him. They just had to make damn sure they found her before the situation reached that boiling point.

  “I hope so, too,” he said, realizing that Cat was watching him, clearly waiting for him to reply. “Simon is strong, but his father had years to practice his craft, to hone it into a horrible weapon. Simon’s not that experienced.”

  “True.” She paused as Eduardo came back into the kitchen, looking relieved. “Well?”

&nbs
p; “Lorena is heading out now. I told her that she had to go very slowly when she came to the border, and she assured me she’d be careful. It’s about twenty miles from their house to the Texas border, so we should know within the half hour.”

  Eduardo wasn’t the only one who was relieved. Not that Rafe really thought that James and Lorena would refuse to make the test, but still, this way they would know very soon whether they could count on the Montoyas to help out.

  And in the meantime….

  Cat shot him a curious glance. “What is it?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about the differences between our situation now and the one the Castillos faced back when Miranda’s parents came here, asking for help.”

  “They must be good, judging by the expression on your face.”

  Rafe nodded. “I hope so. That is, I was thinking about how Simon isn’t as experienced as his father. But that’s not the only thing going for us.”

  “What is it, then?” Eduardo inquired, sitting back down and reaching for his tea.

  “Miranda herself,” Rafe replied. “I don’t know everything her powers can do, and neither does she. I think Simon still underestimates her. And I think that makes her our secret weapon.”

  “Fingers crossed,” Cat said, although, judging by the way her mouth pursed slightly, it looked as though she wasn’t entirely sure whether Miranda’s talents were up to the task.

  They all went quiet for a moment, probably because there really wasn’t much they could do right then except wait to hear back from James’s wife Lorena as to whether she had been able to cross over into Texas, or whether she’d crashed into the same barrier that was working to trap all the witch-born Castillos in New Mexico.

  “I’m going to go outside, get some fresh air while we wait,” Rafe told Cat and Eduardo, then pushed his chair out from the table. They both nodded, and Cat had a look on her face that told him she’d thought about asking him whether she should come, too, but then thought better of it.

  Good. Most of the time Rafe was perfectly happy to have Cat around, but right then he wanted to be alone.

  He went out into the chilly afternoon air and walked aimlessly down one of the garden paths. It was too bad that everything was so dry and dead right now; he’d hoped that by going outdoors, he’d be able to regain some equilibrium, but there was little about the landscape around him to offer any solace. He’d always hated this time of year anyway, with the color and flash of autumn gone and the knowledge that more than six months of cold awaited before the land became green again. In other parts of the world, spring might come sooner than that, but winter always liked to keep northern New Mexico in its grip for as long as possible.

  It felt strange to think that his mother would never see the return of her beloved flowers, would never see these lawns stretch green and smooth again under a canopy of fresh leaves. She’d always taken such care of these gardens, but now he supposed it would be Louisa’s job — assuming she ever came out of her coma.

  Rafe’s mouth thinned to a flat line. Simon Escobar had a lot to answer for.

  As he drew closer to the casita where Miranda had stayed so briefly, Rafe made himself turn away and head back in the direction from whence he’d come. He didn’t want to look at the casita, didn’t want to think about what could be happening to Miranda at this very moment. True, she was smart and resourceful, but was she really strong enough to hold off a warlock as powerful as Simon?

  Hands jammed in his jeans pockets, Rafe came up the steps to the kitchen door, only to have Cat open it and say, “She got through!”

  “What?” he asked, not quite able to track what she’d just said.

  “Lorena! She went through the barrier like it wasn’t even there, which means it doesn’t affect civilians. Dad’s talking to her now.”

  Oh, right. That had to be good news, didn’t it? They could all use some good news about now, that was for sure.

  Rafe followed Cat into the kitchen, where Eduardo was still seated at the kitchen table, cell phone held to his ear. “Yes,” he was saying. “I need to get the information off Genoveva’s computer, but I know that Lupita Montoya, the prima of the clan, lives in San Antonio. So it is a journey that will take some time.” A pause as Eduardo apparently listened to Lorena’s reply, and then he said, “It’s urgent, but I understand if you need to make arrangements. And obviously we don’t want you driving all through the night. Yes, that should work. Thank you, Lorena. I’ll text you the address.” Eduardo swiped his finger over the screen to end the call, then laid his phone down on the table.

  “Well?” Cat said.

  “She’ll do it, of course, but she wants to leave in the morning. It’s already past four, and so even if she left now, she wouldn’t reach San Antonio until midnight. We are already asking a favor of her, and so I thought it better to tell her it was all right to start tomorrow.”

  “A favor that benefits the whole clan, including her,” Rafe growled.

  “True, but she has young children, and James can’t take off work at such short notice without it causing problems, so she will have to arrange for someone else to watch them. But this way she can set out early in the morning — she hopes no later than seven-thirty — and get to San Antonio by mid-afternoon. We may have help as soon as tomorrow night.”

  The thought of so much delay made Rafe grind his teeth, but he managed to say levelly enough, “Only if the Montoyas can get in from their side.”

  “True.” Eduardo fiddled with the handle of his now-empty mug and said, “I know this is not the kind of delay you wanted to have happen. But it will be all right. You must have faith.”

  Rafe wanted to ask his father how he could have faith when their enemy had already killed his mother and put two of his sisters in comas, but he realized that arguing with Eduardo wasn’t going to change anything. His father was probably hurting even more than he was. And really, Lorena was doing them a huge favor. She might have married into the Castillo clan, but she wasn’t a witch herself. She probably didn’t fully understand what they were facing here.

  “Okay,” he said at last. “I get it. But I’m going to be climbing the walls until then.”

  “I know,” Eduardo replied, his expression one of sympathy. “And I don’t know what to say, except that we need to be patient.”

  “In the meantime,” Cat said. “I’m going to make us all a big batch of chicken enchiladas for dinner. It’ll destroy the kitchen, but it’ll keep me busy.”

  In response to this suggestion, Rafe could only offer her a weak smile. Still, he understood her motivation. They all needed to do something to keep busy so they wouldn’t go completely crazy. In fact —

  “I’ll help,” he said.

  12

  A Summoning

  Miranda

  I should have known this would be Simon’s endgame — to use his insanely powerful magical talents to sweep away anyone who might challenge his authority, and to take over the clan whose prima had once given her own life to make sure his father died before his plans for domination could come to fruition. And who would stop him? Louisa had already shown that she really wasn’t strong enough to be prima. Maybe during peacetime, when there wouldn’t be anyone to contest her authority or question her powers, but going up against someone like Simon Escobar?

  She didn’t stand a chance.

  And neither did anyone else in the Castillo clan, unless they were hiding some insanely powerful witches and warlocks in other parts of the state. Rafe had a fairly amazing — and rare — talent, but I didn’t see how changing into a wolf, coyote, or even a bear would be enough to take down Simon.

  After I’d stared at him in shock, not sure I’d heard him correctly, he’d smiled at me and said, “Give yourself some time to think about it, Miranda. Maybe get some air — it’s a nice day.”

  He’d been flaunting his control over me, I was sure. Letting me know I would be free to walk the grounds, but that I didn’t dare try to escape. I hated the whole
charade, and yet I’d taken him up on the offer. At least that way I could get out of the house, away from him, and see if some fresh air might allow me to figure out a way to stop his terrible plan.

  So here I was, walking the grounds, pretending to be looking at the trees and the bare flowerbeds and the clear blue sky overhead, but really doing my best to figure out how I could prevent him from taking control of the Castillos. It did feel good to be outside, although I’d had to stop and put on a jacket before I went out.

  This property was more extensive than I’d thought. Maybe not quite as big as the Tesuque compound where we’d been holed up previously, but still at least four or five acres. Unfortunately, the trees kept me from seeing very far, and besides, I didn’t know New Mexico nearly well enough to even start to guess at my location. I figured we were next to Cienega Creek, but that didn’t tell me very much, since it could wind along for miles.

  It was very quiet except for the sound of the wind shuffling some fallen leaves along, and the occasional cawing of a raven. I knew it had to be a raven, because the sound was hoarser, throatier than that of a crow.

  Weren’t ravens supposed to be harbingers of death? I couldn’t remember, because I’d never studied up on that sort of thing, had sort of avoided some of the more woo-woo aspects of being a witch. I might have been born with magical blood in my veins, but it had taken its own sweet time manifesting itself, and I’d never wanted to compensate by playing with crystals or trying to pretend there were signs and symbols in the most ordinary, everyday things.

  Even so, the sound of that raven croaking off in the distance made the skin at the back of my neck prickle.

  I went down to the shore of the creek and stood there for a long time, watching the water move slowly past. At this time of year, after the monsoons but months before the snow melt would return, it was running low and languid. I could see the rocks in the bottom, saw a quicksilver flash that might have been a fish, or only my eyes tricked by the angle of the sun. Even at its current low point, the creek was still probably at least two feet deep, with a rocky, treacherous bottom. Despite that, I might have attempted to wade across, except that I knew I wouldn’t have gotten very far. Simon would have been at my side in an instant, and I didn’t want to think about the consequences such an escape attempt might invite.