“If they did that, there would’ve been more chance of someone noticing them taking Danica and Roslyn to it.” He shifted slightly, and Caitlin realized he was getting his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I email my mother, send our ideas along? For all I know, Miguel’s already thought of it, but….”
“No, please, go ahead,” Caitlin broke in. If nothing else, at least it would show that they’d done something today besides spin their wheels. Not that going out to the studios with Alex hadn’t been fun, but it hadn’t exactly gotten them any closer to finding Roslyn and Danica, either. On the way back into town, she’d closed her eyes for a bit, tried once again to empty her mind of everything and let the visions pour through her. It hadn’t worked. Nothing came to her at all, and she could only hope that Alex had thought she was merely resting her eyes instead of proving what a crappy seer she was turning out to be.
While she sipped at her sangria, Alex tapped out an email, fingers moving with surprising dexterity on the tiny screen of his phone. Maybe it had really good auto-complete software. She wouldn’t know, because she tended to get by with bargain-basement Android phones, not the gleaming silvery iPhone Alex currently held.
“All done,” he said, then slid the phone back into his jeans pocket. “Here’s hoping that’s an angle they haven’t thought of yet.”
She nodded, but the memory of her failed attempt at forcing another vision still nagged at her. “Alex, what are we doing?”
“Having dinner?” he joked. But when she didn’t smile, he told her, “We’re doing what we can. It’s like I told you earlier today — beating yourself up the whole time isn’t going to help your friends. And awful as it is, thinking about what might be happening to them, they’re still alive. Matías needs to keep them alive for that magic he’s performing.”
Just the mere memory of the strange circle and its unnatural symbols, the way Roslyn’s blood had dripped onto it and made that horrible mist rise into the air, curdled Caitlin’s stomach. Ignoring the sangria, she picked up her water glass and took a large swallow. It helped a little.
“What do you know about that, anyway?” she asked, pitching her voice low and shooting a wary glance at the couple sitting at the table next to them. Luckily, it looked as if they were on their first date or something, as they seemed to be doing the standard “what shows do you watch? Oh, you liked that movie, too?” sort of thing people tended to do when they were getting to know one another. At any rate, they didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her or Alex, or to their conversation.
He obviously didn’t miss that quick, sideways darting of her gaze. Lowering his own voice, he said, “Not very much. I mean, we all have slightly different flavors to our magic — the de la Paz clan came here from Mexico, so we use some rituals that are different from yours, just as you came from Scotland and follow a more Wiccan tradition. But dark magic, blood magic — it was outlawed everywhere centuries ago. We might be descended from the guys who used to throw human sacrifices off pyramids, but I promise we haven’t done anything like that lately.”
Caitlin couldn’t prevent herself from smiling at that remark. “No, I guess that would be kind of conspicuous, wouldn’t it? The problem is, that makes us fly even more blind, really, since we don’t know for sure what they were doing, or why they needed blood for their spell.”
His gaze didn’t quite meet hers. “Well, we may not know, but I can guess.”
She crossed her arms. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Not that I know firsthand or anything, but there are witches and warlocks in our clan who do know something of that kind of magic — not because they practice it themselves, but because it’s important to know what your enemies might be up to.” He drank some more of his sangria, and this time his eyes did flicker back toward hers, troubled and dark. “The doings of the Santiago clan haven’t always been entirely on the up and up. Not as bad as this, at least not that I know of, but I’ve heard rumors. We’ve tried to be vigilant. The McAllisters are far enough away that the Santiagos’ doings weren’t much of a concern. Same with the Wilcoxes. Anyway, the Wilcox clan had a bad reputation for long enough that even the Santiagos wouldn’t have wanted to tangle with them.”
That made some sense, although she wondered at the way Connor and Angela had gone into Santiago territory several years ago, with no one apparently warning them about what they might be walking into. It was possible that no one had worried too much, because the combined power of a primus and a prima was certainly nothing to mess with.
“So what do you think Matías is up to?” Caitlin finally picked up her sangria and took a swallow as well, mostly because contemplating a new threat in the shape of the entire Santiago clan had left a definite bad taste in her mouth.
“Like I said, I don’t know for sure, because I didn’t see what you saw. But generally when a witch or warlock is doing blood magic, it means they’re calling up something to assist them in casting a black spell. That would’ve been the mist you saw beginning to rise from the floor.”
“You mean…it was alive?” she asked, her voice barely more than an aghast whisper. Yes, Luz had mentioned that the warlocks were summoning something, but at the time she’d been so shaky and out of it that she hadn’t really processed the statement and its implications. Although it was warm enough in the restaurant, a river of ice suddenly seemed to run down her spine.
“Sort of, if not exactly the kind of thing most of us think of when we say ‘alive.’ But it was some kind of spirit…entity…energy…whatever you want to call it.” He picked up a chip from the basket and broke it in two, but didn’t eat either piece, instead staring down at them as if he wasn’t sure what he intended to do with them.
“What were they doing with it?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure my mother went back to that house with someone who knows more about that kind of magic, but if they discovered anything else, she hasn’t told me.” He hesitated then, as if he’d been about to say more but had decided to stop there, for whatever reason.
Caitlin thought she could guess the reason why. If Luz and whoever was helping her had dug up something really terrible, she might not want to frighten her son…or the unpracticed seer he was supposed to be protecting.
Another shiver moved down her spine, but then she had to sit up and act halfway normal, as the waiter showed up with their meals. She thanked him and stared down at the food on the plate before her, hoping she could reclaim some of her appetite. Right then her stomach was churning with an uncomfortable combination of worry and fear.
“It’s all right,” Alex said, apparently noticing her unease. “We’re safe here. And even if something were to happen, you know I would protect you.”
Well, that was true. Or at least she hoped it was. She’d seen the odd shimmering sphere that Alex could cast to surround himself and anyone near enough to him, but she’d yet to see anyone or anything challenge it. Luz had said nothing could get through it. Did that include strange mist-like entities called here from the Goddess only knew which dimension?
“Right,” Caitlin said, and forced herself to smile at him, even though she knew it must have looked watery and weak. “I guess I’m just not used to this kind of thing. I mean, Damon Wilcox did some terrible stuff, but he’s gone, you know? I suppose it was naïve of me to think there wouldn’t be someone or something equally awful out there.”
Alex nodded, but she noticed how he’d barely looked at his food, either, although his left hand was resting on his fork, as if he’d intended to pick it up and then got distracted. “Well…you McAllisters do tend to be kind of isolated. In a way, that’s good. You’re focused on your own clan, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But there are a lot of other clans out there, some good, some…not as much, for whatever reason. At least with Damon, you knew exactly why he did the things he did, even if they were terrible. But this?” His shoulders went up, and at last he retrieved his fork and stuck it into the mound of chicken
on his plate, even though he didn’t make a move to lift it. “I can’t figure out what their game is. Kidnapping a couple of witches from clans that are bound to retaliate isn’t exactly the smartest thing to be doing.”
“But we aren’t retaliating, are we?” Caitlin asked, and Alex gave her a considering look.
“Not yet. But don’t tell me that Angela and Connor won’t do something about it, or at least try to, once we’ve located Matías and his buddies. I know I would.”
Any protests she might have made died away as Caitlin considered Alex’s point. Neither Angela nor Connor was the type to go flying off half-cocked, but they also both had a strong sense of right and wrong, and the unwritten rule of the witch world was that if someone messed with your clan, you found some way to bring them to justice. No matter what.
Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, Caitlin finally picked up one of her tacos and took a bite, knowing if she didn’t start eating, the food would soon get cold. In an abstract way, she realized it was very good, and so she took another bite. Strangely enough, eating something seemed to help settle the nervous churning of her stomach. After she washed the food down with a swallow of her sangria, she said, “Maybe they will retaliate. I can’t speak for them. But I know that whatever they do, it will be measured. They won’t do something stupid, just in the name of revenge.”
Alex didn’t respond at first, but followed her lead by eating a few bites of his own meal. Then he asked, “You think a lot of them, don’t you?”
“Connor and Angela? Well, why wouldn’t I? She’s my prima, and he’s her consort.”
“True, but not everyone always agrees with their prima, do they? Even if they publicly go along with what she says.”
Caitlin thought that over for a few seconds. “Maybe, but so far Angela hasn’t done anything that would make me question her judgment. She and Connor are both kind of live-and-let-live types. I’m not saying she hasn’t stepped in from time to time when someone’s gotten out of hand, but she’s definitely not some kind of dictator. Which is as it should be. I don’t have any reason to think she’ll do something crazy now, either.”
The expression on Alex’s face was hard to decipher. He didn’t say anything at first, but from the way his eyes narrowed slightly, Caitlin wondered if he was trying to process her view of her prima with the girl he’d only met a few times, someone he hadn’t seen for several years. And those were important years. Angela was now a mother, had a few years of being prima under her belt. She’d changed. But then, who wouldn’t, after everything she’d experienced?
Finally, Alex said, “Well, that’s good to hear. Because the last thing we need is a clan war on our hands.”
Caitlin couldn’t argue with that. “Even though Matías might turn out to be one of Simón Santiago’s, I kind of doubt he’d do much to stick up for him, once the truth comes out about what Matías has been doing. You’d think Simón would wash his hands of him, if only to do some damage control.”
“I hope you’re right.” The worried expression on Alex’s features smoothed itself into something else entirely. There was even a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “So, since we can’t fix all the world’s problems at dinner, why don’t we let that all go for now?”
That sounded like a great idea. She raised her glass in agreement. “I’ll drink to that.”
* * *
It was a relief to shift gears, to watch some of the tension leave Caitlin’s face as he purposely moved the conversation to something a little lighter, like how he’d found this restaurant, his favorite places to go in and around the city — anything except her kidnapped friends and the dark powers their kidnappers seemed to be employing. She asked about his family, and he told her how Diego was now living down near Bisbee, his wife already expecting their first child. “Nothing like not wasting any time, considering they just got married in June,” Alex had remarked, and Caitlin grinned, a dancing light he hadn’t seen before coming to her eyes.
She told him about her brother the chef, how his talent was coming up with amazing recipes and food combinations right out of thin air — or so it appeared to the foodies who had started flocking to Cottonwood to try his various creations. “Everyone was so amazed by Michael that they sort of missed how I hadn’t developed any powers,” she said. “Which was fine by me.”
“Well, any powers you were willing to tell them about,” he countered, and a bit of the twinkle in her eyes faded.
“Okay, you got me there. But yeah, I was just fine with letting my brother bask in the limelight. It made things a lot easier for me.”
Alex reflected there might be something to that. His own brother charmed everyone within a twenty-mile radius, it seemed like, to the point that even when he married Maria and disappeared to Bisbee to make wine, neither of his parents were that upset with him. Then again, why should they be? There was always good old dependable Alex to pick up the slack at the store.
“Something wrong?” Caitlin asked.
This was a topic he really didn’t feel like going into, so he just shrugged. “Not really.”
“Oh, come on. For a split-second, you looked like you’d been sucking on a lemon or something.”
Despite himself, Alex chuckled. “That bad?”
“Yeah. And since I’ve told you some of my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me at least one of yours.”
Damn. She had been pretty honest with him so far, once she’d unburdened herself of the secret she’d been hiding from everyone for years. “It’s not that big a deal. I just — running a store wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d end up, you know?”
A look of confusion passed over her face. “But…it’s your family business, right? Why wouldn’t you end up there? I mean, I thought that’s sort of how it works down here.”
Not the sort of question most girls of their generation would have asked. But witch families followed their own rules, had their own traditions. Especially here in de la Paz territory, where things tended to be more rigid than in freewheeling Jerome. He hesitated, then said, “My great-grandfather started the store, and then my grandfather inherited it, and he passed it on to my father. He wasn’t the oldest child, but he was the only son.” He flashed a grin at Caitlin, who flushed prettily and picked up her sangria, trying to pretend she hadn’t been affected by his smile. Not that he’d meant it that way, but her reaction was interesting. Maybe she wasn’t quite as “all business” as he’d thought. “Four daughters, and then finally my dad. My grandfather was ready to tear his hair out.”
“He could’ve left the store to his oldest daughter,” Caitlin pointed out.
“Tradition. A woman wasn’t supposed to run the mercado.”
“That’s silly.”
Maybe to her, it was. The McAllisters seemed to have a more female-dominated culture than the de la Paz family. Yes, a prima ran things here…but that was sort of where the buck stopped, so to speak. “It’s how it was. Diego was supposed to take over for my father, but he never wanted to. I have a feeling part of the reason he married Letty was that he could go help her with her family’s vineyards and be safely away from Tucson and the store.”
Caitlin’s brows went up. “Isn’t that a little, I don’t know…cynical?”
You don’t know my brother, Alex thought, but he didn’t bother to voice the notion aloud. “Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, that left me. My little sister doesn’t have any interest in running the store. Besides, it wouldn’t suit her talent.”
“What’s that?”
“She can…well, ‘talk to the animals’ sounds sort of Horse Whisperer-ish, but that’s basically what she can do. Knows how they’re feeling, knows the best way to work with them. She’s finishing up her degree in biology now, and then she’s going to vet school.”
An expression of not-quite envy passed over Caitlin’s face. “That’s a really cool talent.”
“I know. But obviously it’s not of much use when it comes to running a
store. And my parents said to themselves, ‘Hey, Alex just got his degree in marketing. He’ll be perfect at running the mercado!’”
“So why the degree in marketing, if you didn’t want to manage the store?”
He’d never confessed his goals to anyone before. Not completely, anyway. A marketing degree was a good one to have, and the communications degree on top of that was just the cherry on the sundae. But Caitlin was gazing at him so earnestly, one dark russet eyebrow arched at an adorable angle, that he found himself saying, “I wanted to work in local television — you know, one of the stations up in Phoenix?”
“Wow,” she breathed. “Like a reporter or something?”
“No,” he replied, knowing that was the expected reaction. “I would’ve gotten a journalism degree for that instead of the marketing one. I wanted to do more behind-the-scenes stuff, maybe producing, once I’d put in my time as an intern. Since I’m bilingual, I could’ve tried for some of the Spanish-language stations, too, if the right opportunity presented itself.”
She sat back in her chair, looking impressed. “No wonder you’re grumpy about having to manage the store.”
“‘Grumpy’?” he repeated. “Is it that obvious?”
“Right now it is. But before this, I probably wouldn’t have guessed it was such a sore subject.” Her gaze slipped away from his, and she toyed with the napkin in her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Sorry that you didn’t get to do what you wanted to do. But I guess that happens to a lot of us.”
She spoke simply, but he caught the trace of bitterness in her voice. “And what is it that you wanted to do? I mean, you’re going to Northern Pines, right?”
“Right. I am.” Still not looking at him, she added, “It’s nothing. I’m babbling. Long day and too much sangria.”
Alex wasn’t so sure about that, since she’d only had a glass and a half, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. “Well, if you’re done, I can get the check, and we can go home.”
Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5) Page 14