by Nell Stark
“Alexa.” The syllables of my name had never sounded so comforting. Unlike Olivia, Karma didn’t have to say anything else to show me exactly what she was feeling.
“Thank you,” I said around the lump in my throat. “She...she did it for the money.”
If Karma heard the need for reassurance in my voice, she made no indication. “I agree. What do you want to do?”
“I want to find the Tear of Isis. As soon as possible.”
“I did some research last night, while you were still four-footed. Most of the vampire activity in Argentina over the past century has occurred in and around Buenos Aires. Many of the most prominent landowners in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the estancieros, made alliances with a small group of vampires in order to consolidate their political interests in the region.”
I drummed my fingernails against the lacquered wooden table top. “But isn’t Buenos Aires hundreds of miles from Ojos del Salado?”
“Yes. It will be impossible to tell whether there’s a connection unless we investigate.”
“I’ll book a flight within the hour.”
Karma sighed softly. “I can’t go with you. Not right now. Not when Malcolm is still in a coma.”
I had suspected as much, and oddly, I felt relief. Alone, I could push as hard as I wanted and take as many risks as I needed. No one would be watching my back, but no one would hold me back either.
“I know. You’ve done so much already, Karma. Please don’t feel badly.”
“You should have company. Maybe—”
At that moment, the waiter returned and I jumped at the excuse. “My dinner just arrived. I’ll call you later.”
Part of me felt guilty for brushing her off so quickly, but my conscience quieted as I focused on making travel arrangements in between bites of my steak. By the time I’d finished eating, I had booked an open-return airline reservation to Buenos Aires. My departing flight left in fifteen hours. That didn’t give me much time to put my affairs in order and my clothing in a suitcase.
And to drop out of law school.
The thought gave me pause, but only for a moment. I would finish, eventually—once I had brought Valentine back from wherever her soul had fled to or I had exhausted every lead trying. When I did return to school, I could pick up precisely where I had left off. I wouldn’t look a day older than I did right now.
I spent the subway ride home daydreaming of racing over the grassy plains between Buenos Aires and the Andes. The earth would be alive and warm under my paws, the air redolent with exotic scents. Crystal clear rivers would assuage my thirst, and the light of unfamiliar stars would guide my path. I would shed the bonds of my grief and glory in the thrill of the hunt.
And then I turned the corner to find Olivia sitting on the stoop of my apartment building. She was hunched over her phone, a steaming cup of coffee from the cafe across the street at her side. She looked freezing.
“How long have you been here?”
Her head jerked up and I watched her take in my appearance. I wondered what she saw when she looked at me—whether my grim resolve showed in the planes of my face, and whether the soul-wrenching sorrow was buried deep enough not to.
“A while. I knew you’d have to come home eventually.” She moved her cup so I could sit beside her, but I stayed on my feet.
“Thanks for your message.”
“I know you’re going to South America. I’m not letting you go alone.”
I shook my head. “You’ll slow me down. You’ll get in my way. And you very well might get hurt.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m being honest.” I sat and wrapped my arms around my middle to stave off the chill of the air and stone. “If Karma hadn’t come to get me when she did, I would have found out about Valentine and Sebastian while I was in a public place—maybe even our Starbucks. I would have shifted, and I probably would have killed. That’s how little control I had in that moment.”
Olivia’s expression never changed. “When are you leaving?”
My sigh of frustration clouded as soon as it hit the air. “I have no idea what I’ll encounter down there. I might be walking into the territory of a very hostile and very powerful vampire.”
“All the more reason for you to have backup. What flight did you book?”
For a moment, I thought of lying to her. But if I did, she would discover the truth and come after me anyway. My panther snarled as our daydream of running under the hot Argentinean sun shattered, but the all-too-human part of me felt comforted that I wouldn’t be alone in my quest.
“Val brought Abby back from the brink of death,” Olivia said. “I owe her. And right now, repaying that debt means helping you.”
Tears burned behind my eyes at her words, and I stood quickly, unwilling to let her see the tears fall. “I’ll forward you my flight confirmation. Pack lightly.”
“Thank you,” she called after me as I let myself in the front door.
I was left wondering whether, when this story had played itself out, she would still feel gratitude.
Chapter Six
Olivia and I argued for much of the eleven-hour flight. We had a row to ourselves in first class, and after I filled her in on Karma’s findings and the details of Marilla’s research, we debated how to proceed once the plane landed. I wanted to get to Ojos del Salado as soon as possible to begin my search for the flower. She wanted to stay in Buenos Aires long enough to determine whether there was some kind of connection between the vampire-sponsored estanciero families and the region near the volcano.
“You want us to look for a needle in a haystack,” she had said, balling up her cocktail napkin in the palm of her hand.
“You want us to drag our feet,” I’d shot back. The prospect of cooling our heels in the city, hundreds of miles from where we knew we needed to be, made my panther pace in a tight spiral. She never felt comfortable in claustrophobic airplane cabins, but on this flight, the strain of holding her back had given me a wicked headache.
“With just a little investigation, we might be able to narrow down the search area.” Olivia rested her hand on my arm, and I didn’t know whether to shy away from her touch or accept it. “I have a contact at the U.S. Embassy. Let me talk to her. She might know someone who could help us.”
I pulled back and massaged my temples. Beneath my fingers, I could feel the deep throb of my pulse. My panther was picking up on my ambivalence about Olivia, and her anxiety contributed to the tension in my shoulders and neck. I needed a long, deep massage to coax the tautness from my muscles. Valentine had actually taken a few massage classes, and she could read my body so well that she always used just the right amount of—
“Damn it.” My stomach flipped as the memories shattered.
“What?” Olivia’s face registered alarm, and I wondered whether she was concerned that I might shift mid-flight.
Unwilling to explain, I shook my head and focused back on our debate. If I needed to give a little ground to gain some peace and quiet, then so be it. “I want us to get to the Andes as soon as possible, but we’re going to need provisions. While I find them, you touch base with your contact. But if you don’t turn up anything by the time I’ve secured our supplies, I won’t wait.”
Olivia opened her mouth to protest but apparently thought better of it. “I hope you do finish school,” she grumbled. “You’re going to make one hell of a lawyer.”
I ignored her and reached for the English to Spanish dictionary I’d brought along. My backwoods Wisconsin upbringing was about to come in useful. We were going to need tents, sleeping bags, dried food, iodine capsules, and canteens. I’d had two years of Spanish in high school, but all I remembered at this point was how to count to twenty and ask for the location of the bathroom. At the very least, I needed to write out a proper shopping list before the plane landed.
*
We touched down as the sun rose swaddled in wispy clouds the color of cotton candy. I
breathed in as I stepped onto the jet bridge, and my panther relaxed ever so slightly at the hint of fresh air. But by the time we had cleared Customs and rented a Jeep, my impatience had returned full-force. When Olivia moved toward the driver’s side, I reacted instinctively, narrowing my eyes and releasing the low growl that had been simmering in my throat since boarding the plane in New York.
She stopped in her tracks. “Jesus, Alexa. What the hell?”
“I’m driving.”
She didn’t speak again until the Buenos Aires skyline filled the view through the windshield. “Why do you keep pushing me away when I’m only trying to help?”
“I didn’t ask for your help,” I retorted, giving my anger and frustration free rein. To answer her question honestly would mean confessing that she reminded me of Valentine in some ways. And that I found her attractive. Sometimes.
Her jaw tightened and she glanced away. Guilt followed quickly on the heels of my outburst.
“I’m sorry. I’m tired, and my head is throbbing.” I reached over to brush my fingertips across her jeans-clad knee. “Look...let’s splurge on a hotel, okay? We may as well have one night of luxury before we head for the hills.”
A smile flitted over her lips. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’re the one with the map.”
After a few minutes of study, she raised her head. “The Four Seasons?”
“Why not.”
My olive branch seemed to have worked, because between issuing directions, she chatted to me about the Recoleta District, where the hotel was located. It sounded like the Upper East Side: full of high-end boutiques and galleries.
“Have you been here before?” I asked as I turned off the main highway.
“No. I just like to do my homework before I travel.”
I didn’t reply. It worried me that Olivia was treating this trip like some kind of quasi-vacation. I had no interest in cultural attractions besides the shard of clay that had led us here, and no desire to shop for anything that wouldn’t help us survive our wild goose chase.
When we pulled into the semicircular drive, my stomach began to churn. The hotel was a converted turn of the century mansion connected to a modern tower. The ambiance, both outside and within the lavish lobby, was decidedly romantic. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, setting the air afire as their light reflected off the polished mosaic floor. Beside me, Olivia was regarding our surroundings with cool appraisal where Valentine would have been exuberant. I could so easily picture Val’s broad smile and feel her warm hands clasping my waist as she spun me in an exultant circle. Gritting my teeth against the aching hollowness in my chest, I walked briskly toward the counter.
“How may I help you?” asked the young man behind it, clearly recognizing an American.
“We would like a room for tonight, please. Two beds.”
Within minutes, I was pulling aside the blackout curtains over our windows to reveal a stunning view of downtown Buenos Aires, tree-lined streets giving way to the glinting spires of a cluster of skyscrapers.
“Which direction is the ocean?” Olivia mused, hovering at my elbow.
“East.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed away from the wall. “No sightseeing. I get it. What’s the plan?”
“We’ll find a place that sells disposable cell phones and then we’ll split up. You go meet with your contact. Check in with me at six unless you discover something earlier.”
“You’ll be careful?”
“I’ll be fine. But that reminds me, if you’re going to be vampire bait, then we’re going to need to find you a gun.”
Disbelief widened her eyes. “Vampire bait? Is that what I’m doing here?”
“Unless they’re very new or very stupid, vampires know better than to prey on unwilling shifters. Just be prepared to defend yourself.”
“With a gun? Bullets work against them?”
I couldn’t help it; I was enjoying her confusion. “They’re really quite fragile,” I said, patting my pocket for my wallet and room key. Elation swept over me. We were finally on the move. There would be no more waiting now. As I passed Olivia on my way to the door, I found myself smiling. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”
*
The late afternoon sun was hot on the back of my neck as I piled boxes of supplies into the trunk of the Jeep. A dry breeze drove dust devils across the patch of dirt and asphalt that doubled as the parking lot for the warehouse of a local mountaineering company. This facility wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, and I was deliberately allowing my panther to stay close to the surface. The stocky man who had helped me pick out the items on my list had regarded me with a predatory leer until he glimpsed the feline presence behind my eyes. After that, he’d been positively meek.
I had purchased enough provisions to last a month. Dried fruit, nuts, couscous, and rice would be the staples of our diet, which I could supplement by hunting wildlife. We would set up a camp near the base of the volcano and make forays into the mountains from there.
The unfamiliar ringtone of my phone startled me, and the panther nosed her way forward to test the mental walls that held her. I took a long, deep breath before answering.
“How soon can you make it to the National Library? It’s in the same neighborhood as our hotel.”
“You found something?”
“Possibly. We were able to enlist the help of the Director of Special Collections.”
Apprehension shivered down my spine. “We?”
“My contact—a consular officer at the embassy. She has very kindly taken a personal interest in our research project. Apparently, it’s a lot more interesting than spending the afternoon processing visas.”
Faint laughter emanated through Olivia’s mouthpiece—her contact responding to the gibe. I closed the trunk harder than I’d intended. I didn’t want other people knowing the details of our mission, not even if they thought it was some kind of academic enterprise. Everyone in New York was preoccupied with Brenner’s movements, but I didn’t dare relax my guard. Since her transition, Valentine had not only accepted the mantle of the Missionary; she had also claimed her human birthright as the scion of one of the wealthiest families in America. There was little doubt in my mind that Helen would stand in the way of anything that might threaten her perfect protégé. And if this escapade proved fruitful, Val would be mine again. Not hers.
“I can be there within the hour,” I said.
Driven by my worry over what clues Olivia might inadvertently drop to her friend, I made it in just under forty minutes. The Biblioteca Nacional de la República Argentina overlooked a verdant courtyard, but I didn’t pause to admire the view. When I told the security guard in my halting Spanish that I was looking for two Americans who were in a meeting with the Director, he ushered me down a side hallway and up two flights of stairs before letting me into a windowless room. Three women were clustered at the far end of a large rectangular table. As I stepped into the climate-controlled environment, Olivia smiled broadly. Had she actually found something in a matter of hours?
“Alexa, hi. Allow me to introduce Katrina Mason, my contact at the embassy.” She indicated the statuesque brunette to her left, who murmured a hello even as she inspected me shrewdly.
“And this is Dr. Julia Esperanza, who has charge of Special Collections.” Olivia gestured to the petite, silver-haired woman to her right. “We’ve been examining documents that are almost two hundred years old. Apparently, the estancieros left detailed property records to avoid inheritance disputes.”
Dr. Esperanza looked to Katrina, who spoke a string of Spanish words that I assumed to be a translation of Olivia’s speech. She nodded once before replying.
“Dr. Esperanza has spent the past few hours glancing over the wills and deeds belonging to the six greatest estanciero families in the hopes of connecting their landholdings to the region discussed by Señor Marilla,” Katrina translated. “The likeliest prospect see
ms to be the Carrizo family. Their last surviving will makes mention of a substantial holding in the foothills of Ojos del Salado, north of the town of Fiambala.”
When Dr. Esperanza spoke again, faint frown lines materialized across Katrina’s forehead. “This may prove especially interesting for your research. Dr. Esperanza has just informed me that this particular family is...cursed.”
“Cursed?” I worked to school my expression in the hopes that everyone would attribute my reaction to American naiveté. A legend of some kind of curse could easily point to vampire or shifter involvement.
“The story is told in one of the deeds of the Vargas family, who annexed most of the Carrizo property in the late nineteenth century. Apparently, some kind of ‘monster’ or ‘ghost’—both words are used in the text—slaughtered almost the entire family in their villa.”
I braced my palms on the table to disguise the surge of adrenaline that had set my hands to shaking. “Almost the entire family? Someone survived?”
Katrina relayed the question and Dr. Esperanza bent over a tattered document for several long moments. The anticipation was excruciating.
“One woman may have survived—the family matriarch, a woman named Solana, whose body was never recovered,” Katrina said. “The other families conducted a search for Solana, but it was fruitless.”
“Was it unusual for a family to have a woman at its head?” Olivia asked.
“Very. As far as Dr. Esperanza knows, Solana Carrizo is the only documented female estanciero.”
“So maybe this crime was perpetuated by one of the other families,” Olivia said. “Because they didn’t like a woman being in a position of power.”
I nodded, not because I believed that interpretation of events, but because I wanted to steer the conversation away from monsters and ghosts. It seemed far more likely to me that this Solana Carrizo had run afoul of the vampire who sponsored her family.
“The piece of property in the mountains is called ‘Rancho del Sombra,’” Katrina translated as she looked at the text over Dr. Esperanza’s shoulder.