Dad and Alex run inside, conjuring rain. But they only needed to get one thing. Our Book of Cantos.
Rhett makes his way through the cleanup and stands in front of my parents.
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Rhett says, “but it will be safer for you to let it burn. We’ll take care of the bodies.”
“What will we tell the police?” Mom asks, her eyes flooding with tears that reflect the red flames.
“I’ll stay,” Rhett says, starting to retreat. The shadow boy who watched over me like a dark angel. “I’ll take care of it.”
My mom pulls him into a bone-breaking hug.
“The sun is rising,” Frederik the vampire says. “Some of us must go.”
“I’m starting to wonder how many so-called accidents are actually THA cover-ups,” Alex says out loud. She rests her arm on my shoulder and leans her head against mine.
McKay and others of the THA pile as many casimuertos as they can into the back of a black SUV that pulls into our yard. The Alliance works quickly. Expertly.
When it comes to Maks, I ask them to wait. I take his severed hand and place it on his chest. I press my fingers to my lips and carry that kiss over to his. My eyes sting at seeing him like this. In spite of everything, I loved him, and the last memory I want to have of him is on that bus as he tried to save me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him one last time.
When the bodies are all gone and the fire reaches Alex’s room in the attic, we finally hear sirens.
“That’s our cue to go,” McKay says, adjusting his black baseball cap and hopping into the driver’s seat. He points a finger at Rose. “Be good, little magical hacker.”
I try to thank everyone here. But the Alliance is hard to thank. They brush it off like it’s just another day.
“Got all the weapons?” Rhett asks one of his hunters. They pack up anything that might look suspicious when the NYPD does their sweep.
“I guess a living room full of daggers and machetes was going to raise a lot of questions,” I say.
“We’ll try to replace what we can,” he assures me.
I watch my house go up in flames. This is the place where I was born. I broke my nose sliding down the banister and Rose wore a permanent spot on the carpet in the nook where she liked to read. We celebrated our dead in there. We ate and drank and gossiped in the kitchen. I snuck out the window and broke my ankle. Twice. We saved lives and lost lives, and we laughed and cried and whispered our secrets and fears into every corner we could find.
We lived.
Mom sits on the tree stump that was once a portal, clutching the Book of Cantos to her chest. Dad rubs her back. I hold my sisters’ hands. Nova takes a power nap on the grass but wakes when a car door slams.
A black cop car pulls up on the front yard. We know what to say. Rhett told us to talk about the electricity going haywire, which is true. And the fire, which Alex technically started when she was fighting off a casimuerto. But that’s always been our lives—half-truths and half-lies.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, then sling a string of curse words that feel so good to say out loud.
“Ms. Mortiz,” Detective Hill says as he walks toward us across the lawn. His face is like a melting candle and his leather jacket smells of cigarettes and bourbon. “The fire department is on their way.”
There’s nothing left for them to save.
There’s a fresh gleam in his eyes, like he’s excited about what he might find. When he looks over my shoulder, something he sees upsets him. Someone.
“Mr. Dulac,” the detective says, a scowl on his face. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Rhett. He’s dressed differently. In a plain, long-sleeved shirt that looks soft to the touch and dark slacks. He holds his hand out to Detective Hill, who stares at it longer than is the custom before shaking it.
“I’m sure surprised isn’t the word you really want to use.” Rhett pats the detective on the back and leads him back to the front of the house, a silent understanding between them I can’t fully grasp, but perhaps I don’t need to yet.
For now, I have to be present.
I join my family.
We gather around and watch our home burn.
37
She lives in the glimmer of dawn.
And when the night is weak,
and when the light is gone.
—Rezo for La Esperanza, Goddess of Sighs and All the World’s Goodness, Book of Deos
Graduation isn’t something I thought I’d get to have. After they closed the school early because of the accident, they discovered a pile of dead bodies in the school basement, which the casimuertos used as a hideout, and so, my entire class graduated automatically. I was probably one credit away from failing, but here I am in my cap and gown, sweating under the July sun.
The first half of the evening was a memorial for the students killed in the accident. They wanted me, as the sole survivor, to give a motivational speech. Something that would make people feel hopeful. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And so Dante Ramirez, Ramirez’s little brother, gave a speech he could barely get through.
As I watch our valedictorian give her speech, I can’t help but focus on the knight sigil that’s on the podium and think of the THA and the Knights of Lavant.
When each student walks across the stage, the applause is subdued, respectful. They call out my name, and I go through the motions. I shake the principal’s hand and the hands of local councilmen and women who came to pay their respects. I don’t miss Detective Hill in the audience. Even McKay and some of the THA showed up. They wave at me as I make the walk across the stage.
When I step out of school, I breathe in the midsummer air. It’s over—the casimuertos, Maks, high school. And I let myself bask in this moment of calm. A couple of friends invite me to graduation parties, but I’m not in a party mood. My family and Rishi’s family are in conversation when I find them.
When I get closer, I can see my reflection in Rishi’s sunglasses—my dark curls made unruly by the summer breeze, my red lipstick to match my dress, my scars uncovered and for everyone to see.
“You look beautiful.” She pulls me into a long embrace. While her parents are busy talking to ours, she stomps her feet and playfully slaps my arm. “I can’t believe I missed the zombie romp across town. I feel like Alex needs to take me ghost hunting for winter break.”
Alex laughs and threads her fingers through Rishi’s. “I promise, it was just a regular Tuesday night.”
“What about you, Lula?” Rishi asks, her nose ring catching the bright sunlight. “Are you okay? I know how verbose you Mortiz sisters can be with your feelings. Spare no details.”
I chuckle and look down at my shoes. Am I okay? I feel so many things. Weary. Relieved. Guilty. Free. Sometimes I feel everything all at once and sometimes I don’t feel anything at all. But my family is helping me deal with everything. I just have to ask for help.
My body, on the other hand—there are some things that science or magic can’t fix. In the evenings, when it’s cold and damp, the pain in my hips comes with a side of angry tears. Even now, I have to reach for Rose’s arm for balancing support. My body is different and strange and new to me, and I have to be kind to it. I have to learn this version of myself and love her like she deserves.
But now, I know I’m telling the truth when I say, “I’m going to be fine.”
• • •
Queens Village, Queens, is a strange place.
It definitely isn’t Brooklyn. Our neighbors want to talk to us, which is weird, and the house feels too new. Too freshly painted. Too straight. Too big.
The Knights of Lavant bought the house. They didn’t have any properties in Brooklyn, because Brooklyn real estate is somehow worse than Manhattan these days.
Dad didn’t want to
take the house. But McKay convinced him that it was the least they could do after they burned ours down. I didn’t tell Dad it was Alex who started the fire.
Half-truths and half-lies.
That night, after graduation and the memorial and dinner, we set up our new altar in our new house. Mom ordered a new statue of La Mama from a botánica down in Florida. There’s a built-in shelf in the entrance wall where she fits perfectly. Rose and Nova are in charge of candles. Alex and I string flowers together with white thread.
“What’s Dad in charge of?” Rose asks.
“Finding a good angle for the TV,” I say.
Mom hits me on the back of my head.
“Ma,” I groan.
She strikes a match and starts lighting the sage bundles. Even new houses need to be cleansed. “Let your father be. Nova, honey, set a pot to boil.”
“Actually, Ms. Carmen, I wanted to talk to you guys about something.”
“Did you leave a red sock in the laundry again?” I ask, which garners another smack to the back of my head. Everything is almost back to normal.
We sit around the living room with Nova on the couch across from us. He’s trying to let his beard grow out, and I think he’s trying to emulate my dad. The marks on his hands are getting longer, and we try to act like we aren’t worried.
Ever since that night, I have a mark on my chest too. Just like Nova does on his heart and hands, and just like Alex does on her palms. Mine is in the shape of a star, burned right over my solar plexus, at the center of my scar.
“I was thinking about what Lady de la Muerte said,” Nova says. “About how you’ve been in a realm she can’t reach. I think that might help in getting your memories back.”
Dad sits up on the couch. He smooths his mustache down around the corners of his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ve tried potions and cantos, and nothing works,” Nova says. “But I think we’re missing something from the realm you were in. I can find something that can help us.”
“On one condition,” Dad tells him.
“What?”
Mom and Dad sit closer to each other than they have in the last few months. Dad puts his arm around her and she sinks into him.
“We’ve talked about it,” Mom says. “We want to have a Deathday for you to stabilize your power.”
“I couldn’t,” he says, blue-green eyes glassy and I never thought I’d see the day when Nova Santiago was bashful. “That’s too much.”
“You already live here,” Rose says.
“And you’re already a pain, like a brother would be.” Alex smirks.
“What they mean,” I say, “is you did so much for me. You stayed, even though you didn’t have to.”
“Family isn’t just blood,” Dad says. “Sometimes you get to choose your family. And you’ve earned a place here.”
• • •
The middle of July is scorching. I miss Coney Island. I miss the beach and the noise. But Queens is okay. I sit in the front yard on a lawn chair. Light breaks through the large tree in front of our house and makes patterns along my skin. Alex and Rose lie down on a blanket. Rose reads from The Kingdom of Adas, and Alex tries to find a canto for Nova in a large, unmarked text.
A black car pulls up right in front of our house.
“Here comes your boyfriend,” Alex singsongs.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say calmly because I know they’re just trying to get a rise out of me. “I’m not ready for boyfriends.”
“Hey,” Rhett says, approaching the brick gate. The ends of his dark hair curl at his shoulders, and he blows a strand away from his deep brown eyes. It’s strange seeing him in broad daylight. He’s holding a plant with dark-purple flowers, and it makes him look like a normal guy, instead of a hunter. “I should get you one of those ‘number of days without an incident’ signs.”
“Do not get us that,” Alex says without looking up from her book.
“Right,” he says. “I just wanted to drop by a housewarming present from the THA. Frederik grew it.”
Rose lowers her sunglasses and tells him, “Half-truth.”
Rhett smirks. “Charming. How’s your new power working out, magical hacker?”
She pushes the lenses back up with a dismissive finger. “You can’t call me that.”
“Stay there,” I say, and I get up from my chair to save him from my sisters. Close the distance between us. I favor my left leg, which hurts less, but I’ll always have an ache in my bones. Even now, the scar on my chest burns.
I lean my elbow on top of the brick gate. A part of me likes the way his Adam’s apple ripples when he swallows, the blush that creeps up to his cheeks when I look at him.
“These are beautiful. Tell Frederik thanks.” I touch the gauzelike petals that remind me of butterfly wings. I grab the pot by the base. “Is that it?”
“I wanted to say I’m sorry I missed your graduation ceremony,” he says. “We had to take down this alien cult that was using human sacrifices—it was a whole ordeal.”
“I’m not sure I believe in aliens.”
He scrunches his face, bewildered. “I watched a deity rip what was basically a cephalopod out of your chest cavity, but aliens make you skeptical?”
“We all have our boundaries, hunter boy.”
Garhett Dulac, hunter and Knight of Lavant, actually chuckles. “I could show you proof. Peru’s an extraterrestrial hot spot.”
“And how would we get there?” I cock my head to the side and let my hair fall over my shoulders.
He licks his lip, and his dark eyes flick from my mouth to my scars. “I could steal one of our jets. Break protocol again.”
I scrunch up my nose but smile all the same. “I think I should keep a low profile for now.”
He leans forward, chest pressed right against the brick fence. The way he looks at me sends a jolt through my veins, something I haven’t felt in so long.
“Maybe we could do something sinmagos do. Dinner?”
Say no. I inhale the scent of freshly cut grass and the new flowers in my grasp.
Say yes. He shoves a hand in his pocket and looks down at the ground.
I want him to stay.
I want him to go.
And I know that until I can pick one of those, I can’t go anywhere with him.
“I can’t,” I say. “Not for a while.”
“You know where to find me, if you change your mind.” He flashes a smile that rattles me. “I’ll check in on you guys another time. Make sure the new house isn’t burned to the ground yet.”
“Funny.”
“Bye, Lula.”
“Bye, Rhett.”
I watch as he gets back in his car and drives off, and a feeling I haven’t had in so long returns—possibility.
I return to my sisters and set our housewarming flowers beside me.
“What did Captain Scuba Pants really want?” Alex asks.
“It’s dragon skin,” I say. “And he wanted to make sure everything was okay with the house.”
“You’re the worst liar.” Alex shakes her head. “And you know we could hear you, right?”
“Fifty bucks says he’ll be back,” Rose says. “With more flowers. Hopefully chocolates too.”
Alex grins at me but keeps a wary eye on the road. “Be careful, Lula. That boy looks like trouble.”
“Maybe he is.” I sit back, a wicked smile on my lips, and sunlight kisses my face. “But so am I.”
Epilogue
The Bastard King of Adas wanted it all.
His reign just and true,
his reign is my fall.
—The Kingdom of Adas
The canto to wake Dad’s memory takes longer than we hoped. Nova searched for a seed from the realm where Dad was taken.
The seed is the size of a walnut and is smooth all around except at the top, where a ring of tiny spikes sprouted like horns.
“Do you remember this?” I ask Dad, but he only shakes his head.
We sit in a circle. The entire living room is lit with candles. Mom looks nervous. I think I can understand what she’s feeling. Maybe it’s better if we just keep going forward. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t remember at all. We are happy now, and that’s what matters.
But sometimes at night, I still hear Dad cry while he dreams. There are moments, even when he’s telling old stories or singing his old song, when he’ll freeze and space out. His eyes glaze over like a darkness is overpowering him, and in that instance, it’s like we never got him back at all.
“I’m ready,” Dad says, his hands jittery as he closes the Circle.
When we lock hands, I sit up straight. An image floods the inside of my mind—a place that glitters with gold, hidden behind a forest of white trees. When I see a woman walk through the forest, I know where we are. Her skin is dark tree bark and her ears end in fine points. Her dress is made of hundreds of flower petals, like they cling to her skin with nothing but magic. She’s surrounded by dozens of humans and faeries alike, holding court right at the heart of the forest.
Then, a hideous face blocks our path. His face is like wrinkled leather, and when he smiles, a set of gold teeth shine back.
“I knew I’d find you,” he tells my father. “No one—no one escapes the Kingdom of Adas.”
Author’s Note
Welcome back. As I continue the stories of the Mortiz sisters, their magical Brooklyn keeps expanding. Alex, Lula, and Rose are three incredible girls with the power to do great things or terrible things—perhaps even both at the same time. Bruja Born is Lula’s story. I’m often asked which of the sisters I identify with the most. Authors write bits of themselves into their worlds, and on many levels, that character for me is Lula Mortiz.
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