The Witches of Canyon Road, Books 1-3

by Christine Pope

  “‘Sorry’?” he cut in, voice trembling with rage. “You’re sorry for me? I have everything I ever wanted!”

  “Except people who care about you,” I said sadly. “That’s not all your fault, but at some point you have to stop blaming everyone else for your troubles. For all our powers, none of us can change the past. Not even you.” I risked a quick glance back at Cat and Rafe, saw her slowly helping him to his feet. Thank the Goddess. Whatever Simon had done, it didn’t look as though it had been enough to cause any permanent harm. Lowering my voice, I went on, “Have you ever stopped to think what might have happened if you’d been brave enough to come to me before I ever left Arizona, had offered to help me with my talents then, told me the truth about yourself?”

  His black eyes glittered. “You would have still hated me.”

  “No,” I replied. “I wouldn’t. Because you wouldn’t have lied. You wouldn’t have concocted a plan specifically designed to hurt the Castillos. You would have only come to me offering an enormous gift, the gift of awakening my talents. But you didn’t. It was more important for you to hurt others than to help me.”

  For one long, terrible second, Simon didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on my face, and I did everything I could to remain where I was, to look back at him with all the truth of what I had just said, to let him know that — just possibly — things might have been different, if only he had come from a place of healing rather than of hatred.

  But then an angry flush suffused his cheeks, and he shook his head. “Pretty words, Miranda. Too bad I don’t believe any of them. I gave you a chance. You could’ve kept all these Castillos from harm. But you thought it was a better idea to tell me everything I’ve done wrong. Now it’s your turn to realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made.”

  Darkness began to swirl around him, a whirling maelstrom of hatred, fury, the throbbing resentment of an entire life misspent. The cold from it reached toward me, and I barely had a chance to stumble away before those icy tendrils began to drift in my direction, implacable as the tide coming in.

  “Get back!” I shouted at Oscar and Tony, who stood a few feet away, eyes wide in horror. “Get back behind the Jeep!”

  In all honesty, I had no idea whether that would help at all. But even turned on its side, the Wrangler offered the best protection I could think of.

  They nodded and then ran, and I hurried over to Cat and Rafe, looping an arm around his waist so the three of us could run after Tony and Oscar.

  Rafe had an obvious limp, and I looked up at him.

  “Think…my ankle’s broken,” he grunted as we stumbled along. “No big deal.”

  “‘No big deal’?” I echoed, trying to keep the worry out of my voice. With his ankle broken, there was no point in him transforming into a wolf or coyote, because his animal forms would also be injured.

  “Yesenia…will fix it,” he gritted.

  I supposed a broken ankle was no big deal for the Castillo clan’s healer — assuming we lasted that long. But did we even have to wait for her? Compared to some of the other feats I’d pulled off lately, fixing Rafe’s ankle seemed relatively minor.

  “Wait,” I said, and Cat looked at me like I’d just gone mad.

  “Wait? That thing’s almost on us!”

  The whirling darkness was moving ever closer, strange sibilant voices seeming to emerge from somewhere within its depths. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted.

  “Just one second.”

  I leaned down and wrapped my hands around Rafe’s injured ankle, imagined a warm, healing glow coming from my fingers, penetrating into the broken bone and healing the fracture. Almost at once, his eyes widened.

  “What did you do?”

  “I healed you,” I said. “Now, run!”

  We sprinted the last few yards to the Jeep, then huddled behind it with Oscar and Tony.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Tony asked. Under his warm-toned skin, he looked pale as death, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “I don’t know for sure,” I said. “All of Simon’s hatred, all his resentment, all the years he’s spent nursing his wounds, real or imagined. All of it wound up together in some sort of monstrous summoning.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Next to Tony, Oscar made the sign of the cross. I wished that might do us some good, but I had my doubts.

  I had a feeling we were on our own.

  “Are you all right now?” I asked Rafe.

  “I think so.”

  “Good.”

  I pushed myself up from my crouch as he stared at me in consternation. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to fight him,” I said. That sounded brave. Too bad I was so knotted up in fear, I worried that I might throw up then and there.

  “You can’t!”

  “Neither can you,” I said gently. I glanced around at all of them, at Oscar and Tony and Cat. “None of you can. This is my fight. This is why Louisa gave me her powers.”

  “Not so you would fight by yourself!” Rafe protested. He got up as well, although he retained enough presence of mind to stay partially bent over so his head wouldn’t rise above the protection provided by the Jeep and provide an easy target for Simon’s malevolent energy. “You fixed my ankle. Let me transform…get the drop on him like I did in Tesuque.”

  I kissed my husband then, a swift kiss…all we had time for. “I know you want to protect me, Rafe. But I’m the prima now. It’s my job to protect you. Your wolf self is strong, but I know it’s not strong enough.”

  He let out a frustrated growl, but I could tell he wouldn’t keep arguing the point. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he knew he was no match for the roiling, hideous presence churning away only a few yards from us.

  Cat was shaking her head. “There has to be another way — ”

  “We tried that. It didn’t work.”

  Before any of them could say anything else, I stepped out from behind the Wrangler. There, just a yard away, was the monstrous spinning form that had engulfed Simon. Or had it been with him all along, and only now showed me his true face?

  His voice echoed from somewhere within, oddly distorted. “You can’t win.”

  “Neither can you,” I replied. My skin crawled as though a million ants marched their way across my body, and my fingers were shaking. Even so, I held my ground.

  That reply elicited a disembodied laugh, one that was echoed overhead by the screeching of the demons. They hung in the air, watching the scene below. Apparently, Simon was confident enough in the eventual outcome of our confrontation that he’d ordered them to stay back and keep out of the fight. “You’re very brave now, aren’t you?”

  “Not brave,” I told him. “Determined.”

  “Determined to die.”

  I summoned the shield, but as he moved toward me, those strange, ghostly tentacles that obscured his form reached out to the protective bubble and shattered it as easily as if it had been a real soap bubble. Cold enveloped me, drew me in, as though I was being pulled down into some strange vortex in arctic waters, freezing me, preventing me from doing anything except stand there.

  Simon’s laughter echoed in my ears. “Not as strong as you thought, Miranda.”

  Those weren’t tentacles holding me now, but his arms. I saw him now, saw him as himself again, while we stood inside the eye of the storm he had conjured and those ghastly clouds swirled all around us.

  For all my fear, I could still feel the prima energy burning within me. It was warm while all else was cold, telling me of the strength I’d been given, the powers that had come down through countless generations of Castillo witches, and which had finally come to me. Those strange gifts told me what I must do now.

  “Strong enough, Simon,” I replied.

  I reached out and cupped his face in my hands. His night-dark eyes widened, and I saw a flare of terrible hope in them, hope that I might finally be succumbing to him.

&nb
sp; That wasn’t why I touched him, though.

  No, I let the prima energy flow through me and into him. His body jerked, but I wouldn’t allow him to pull away. I held on, showing him every crime he’d committed, every person he’d hurt, every piece of his soul he’d given up to summon his dark powers. And as he began to writhe and twist in my grasp, I showed him everything he could have had — love, and acceptance, and a peaceful heart…if only he’d been able to look past his hate.

  He let out a terrible cry, even as the ghostly tornado that had surrounded us melted away like morning mist under the sun’s heat. Hands clutched to his head, he sank to his knees in the gravel.

  In pain, in torment…but still alive.

  “Simon — ”

  He looked up at me, eyes blazing in fury. “You bitch!”

  And his hands lifted.

  I steeled myself for the attack — and startled when once again a shadow passed over the sun. Looking up, I saw great leathery wings beating against the air.

  Not Simon’s demons, though. The Lord of Chaos dove toward us in a terrible dark streak. One hand pushed outward, driving Simon a few steps backward, his balance lost. Free of his grasp, I stumbled and nearly fell to the ground, breath catching in my throat. The demon lord bent toward me and murmured, “Now, young witch.”

  I had this one moment. That was all the Lord of Chaos had given me. I had to hope it would be enough.

  Not out of revenge, but out of sorrow for what he should have been, and never would be.

  “Goodbye, Simon,” I murmured.

  I raised my hands, and the prima energy flared within me, combining with the gifts that had been there since I was born — even if I hadn’t known they existed until a short time ago. A flare of light, golden as sunrise, warm with life…but bearing death with it now.

  The surge of light hit Simon full in the chest. He gasped, eyes widening. For one terrible second, I saw that magical illumination flow through his body, overloading his every vein and muscle and cell. Then the light went dark — and he fell to the ground, limp, a trickle of black blood flowing from the corner of his mouth.

  Above me, the demon horde shrilled in terror. What they planned to do next, I had no idea, because the Lord of Chaos raised both his hands and extended them toward the sky. All at once, the demons who hovered there shivered away into puffs of dark smoke that were quickly carried away by the wind.

  What the — ?

  I stared at the demon lord as he approached me, then, to my surprise, bowed slightly. “You are uninjured?” he asked once he had straightened up.

  “I — ” This had all happened far too fast. Was Simon really dead?

  One glance seemed to confirm that he was. Surely if he had a single breath remaining, he would have tried to come after me, but he hadn’t moved for more than a minute. I was thankful that he’d fallen facing away from where I stood, though. As much as I hated what he’d done to me, to so many others, I wasn’t sure I was ready to see his dead eyes staring at me, accusing.

  The world seemed to spin around and around. I pulled in a breath and said, “I think I’m okay.”

  Oscar, Tony, Rafe, and Cat emerged from behind the Jeep. Both Tony and Oscar were staring at the Lord of Chaos as though they were caught in a nightmare from which they desperately wanted to awaken. Rafe came to me, took my hand.

  “You’re all right?”

  “I’m fine…I think.”

  He looked from me to the Lord of Chaos, who stood a few feet away, watching all of us. “How did you know to come?”

  The demon lord’s gaze moved to Cat, who suddenly seemed very interested in scrutinizing her chipped fingernail polish. “I came because I was asked,” he said.

  “‘Asked’?” I repeated. Then I realized why the Lord of Chaos had made Cat the object of his attention. “Cat, did you call him?”

  She hesitated for a second, then flashed us all a brilliant smile. “Well, you brought me along because you thought I could help with the demons. I tried to control them, or block them, but that didn’t work. So I thought of the one demon I had been able to talk to, and I asked him to come help. And thank you for that,” she added, looking directly at the demon lord.

  “It was nothing,” he said. “Or rather, it was an opportunity to get my revenge on the one who brought me here against my will. I could not raise my hand against him directly, but at least I could give some small assistance.”

  “And — and the other demons he summoned?” I glanced upward again. The sky was clear now, with only a few clouds floating serenely past. “You destroyed them. Why?”

  A negligent shrug of his massive shoulders. “They betrayed me by answering to a different master, so they deserved their fate. Besides,” the Lord of Chaos added, “you would not have much liked having those demons loose in your world, would you?”

  No, I most certainly would not. It still surprised me that the demon lord would strike out against his own kind like that, but I would be the first to admit that I didn’t know much about demons’ codes of conduct.

  “But with Simon dead, how will you get back to your world?” Cat asked. She sounded genuinely concerned. “Aren’t you stranded here now?”

  The Lord of Chaos gave another of those careless lifts of his shoulders. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. He cannot have been the only warlock in this world with the gift of summoning demons.” A pause, and then he went on, his tone quieter, “It is better for your prima not to have that death entirely on her conscience.”

  How he knew I was now the Castillos’ prima, I had no idea. Possibly his otherworldly nature could detect such things when ordinary mortals — or not-so-ordinary witches and warlocks — couldn’t. There were so many things I still didn’t know. I knew one thing, however.

  I couldn’t have defeated Simon if the Lord of Chaos hadn’t given me that little bit of an assist.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A flash of those terrible fangs. Was that the demon equivalent of a smile? “You are most welcome. But now I must go.”

  His enormous wings flapped, stirring up dust and dead leaves. He hung in the air for a second, and then he was gone.

  We all looked at one another. I couldn’t help but glance over at Simon’s lifeless form. Someone would have to come out here and take care of him, I supposed. I could worry about that later, though. For the moment, I was only aware of a bone-deep weariness.

  My hand slid into Rafe’s. His fingers locked around mine, strong and warm.

  “Take me home,” I whispered.

  18

  Homecoming

  Rafe and Oscar and Tony managed to tip the Jeep over so it sat on all four wheels. The passenger side was horribly dented, but to all our surprise — Rafe’s included, I thought — the Wrangler started right up when he pushed the ignition button.

  “That’s my baby,” he said with an affectionate pat on the dashboard.

  Other than that, none of us seemed inclined to say much. I could tell that Tony and Oscar were still trying to wrap their heads around the notion of a demon lord loose in the world, and I couldn’t really blame them. Even though I’d known such beings truly did exist, since the McAllisters had had a run-in with them before I was even born, it was one thing to understand something on an intellectual level and quite another to be confronted with it in the flesh.

  But the Lord of Chaos had given me the opening I’d needed, and in doing so had possibly been just as responsible for saving us as I was. I’d wounded Simon when I’d shown him the truth of his existence, but it hadn’t been enough. Somehow I’d known all along that it would have to be my hand which brought him down, even if I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. Despite my seeming lack of magical powers growing up, I’d been wanted and loved and accepted by my family, while Simon had only been an outcast. Yes, he had done terrible things, had killed and lied and used magic that had been forbidden for centuries…but he was also someone I’d laughed with, had shared meals with. Simon had given me my magic. True, h
e’d only done so because he wanted to use me just as he used everyone else he encountered, and yet….

  I didn’t want to feel guilty. No one in the world could blame me for taking Simon’s life, not when he’d presented such an obvious danger to the Castillo clan, and very likely all the other witch clans as well.

  A witch wasn’t supposed to use her powers to harm another, but what if by harming that one person, she could save so many more?

  I pulled in a breath, watched the golden landscape pass by outside the car window, and told myself it would be all right.

  It had to be.

  Just as we were pulling onto the 599, Cat got a text. She dug her phone out of her purse, looked down at the screen, and let out a happy little sigh. “Dad just texted me,” she said. “Malena woke up about ten minutes ago. She can’t remember much of what happened to her, but she seems to be fine.”

  “Just like Louisa,” I commented. “Do you think she came out of it because Simon — ” I stopped there, letting the words hang on the air. It had probably been exactly ten minutes earlier when the Lord of Chaos pushed Simon away from me and I had sent the prima power into him, ending his life.

  “Maybe,” Cat said. “Although that doesn’t explain why Louisa woke up so much earlier.”

  No, it didn’t. Then again, magic wasn’t an exact science. Whatever dark spell had sent the two sisters into their comas, it didn’t necessarily have to have worked on them both in exactly the same way. Louisa was the stronger witch all on her own, and when she’d fallen into the coma, she’d still possessed her prima powers. For all I knew, that was why the spell hadn’t weighed on her as heavily.

  I said as much, then paused as a thought suddenly came to me. “What if — what if I can give Louisa her powers back, now that Simon isn’t a threat any longer?”

  Because I knew I really, really didn’t want to be the Castillo prima if I didn’t have to be.

  Oscar replied almost at once, “I don’t think that’s how it works, Miranda.” His tone was gentle, as though he knew he was giving me unwelcome news. “Even if it was physically possible, I doubt Louisa would agree to something like that. She gave you her powers because she knew you were stronger, were the one best suited to lead our clan. What if she took her powers back, and then a threat just as bad as Simon Escobar — or worse — appeared? The prima talent isn’t something that should be passed back and forth like a football.”