“Definitely old Hollywood. Or old Pasadena, I guess. But yeah, this place makes my abuelita’s house look like a mud hut.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Caitlin replied.
A shrug. “I don’t know. If my art history class hasn’t failed me, I’d say that’s a real Picasso hanging over the fireplace.”
She wouldn’t know a Picasso if it came up and punched her in the nose, so she’d have to take Alex’s word for that. What she did know was that this place intimidated her. It spoke of money that had been around a long, long time. Yes, the de la Paz clan had been in southern Arizona since before the territory became a state, but the Santiagos had come to Southern California with some of the earliest Spanish settlers. Their roots went as far back as the founding of Los Angeles itself.
Movement at the entrance of the living room made both Caitlin and Alex go still, and she looked up to see a tall, stately-looking man in his early sixties standing there, surveying them, his daughter standing directly behind him. Crap. Caitlin had to hope he hadn’t overheard any of their conversation, the casual way they’d been discussing the house.
Lucinda cleared her throat. “Father, this is Caitlin McAllister and Alex Trujillo.”
At once the two of them scrambled to their feet. Another man might have told them not to get up, but Caitlin could tell at once that the Santiago patriarch was not that easygoing. His dark eyes surveyed them coldly, and she thought she detected a downward twitch to his mouth when his gaze rested on her for a few seconds.
Somehow she resisted the urge to put her hand to her neck. She thought she’d done a good job of covering up the marks Alex had left there, but what if she’d missed something? Simón probably thought she was a complete tramp.
“Mr. Santiago,” Alex said politely. “I’m — ”
“I know who you are,” Simón broke in. Once again his gaze flickered to Caitlin, then returned to Alex. “What are you doing here in my territory without permission?”
So it was going to be like that. Caitlin could feel Alex wince slightly, but then he replied, his voice firm enough, “My apologies for that, sir. We’ve come here on an urgent matter and didn’t have time to wait for the back and forth of getting permission. My grandmother is not well, and my mother, the prima-in-waiting, is occupied enough with caring for her.”
Simón waved a hand. “I do not care for your excuses. You are here now, so tell me what it is you want.”
Alex hesitated, and Caitlin said, “Mr. Santiago, we’re trying to determine the whereabouts of three warlocks we believe are members of your clan. They — ”
“And how do you know they’re members of my clan?”
The older man’s expression looked so forbidding as he asked the question that Caitlin faltered, not sure of the best way to reply. Was there a best way to describe the situation? She was beginning to think not.
Thank the Goddess, Alex stepped in. “Sir, we don’t know for sure. We’d hoped you’d be able to clear that up. They certainly aren’t members of the de la Paz clan, and although it’s remotely possible that they’ve crossed the border from Mexico, I don’t think that’s the case. Their names are Matías and Jorge and Tomas, and they — ”
At the mention of the three warlocks’ names, Lucinda gave an audible gasp. Simón rounded on her, saying, “Lucinda, go check on your mother. You’re not needed here now.”
Without bothering to protest, she ducked her head and disappeared down the hallway. What the hell was all that about? It seemed obvious enough to Caitlin that Simón’s daughter did in fact know something about the young men in question…and just as obvious that Simón didn’t want her talking about it.
From the way Alex’s mouth tightened, it appeared he’d come to the same conclusion. Maybe that was why his tone was far more clipped than usual as he said, “Mr. Santiago, these warlocks have kidnapped two of Caitlin’s friends, a McAllister and a Wilcox. I don’t think I need to stress how serious the situation is.”
Simón looked very grim, although it could be that was his usual expression. “That is unfortunate. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”
Right then Caitlin desperately wished they had brought someone older and more experienced with them. It seemed clear to her that the Santiago clan leader intended to stonewall two people he thought were beneath his consideration, and not worthy of being treated as equals.
She cleared her throat, and reminded herself that you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. “Sir, if they did come from this territory, then any information you have could be helpful. You see, they’re using some dark magic we don’t completely understand, and — and they’re hurting my friends, using their blood somehow — ” On those last words, her voice caught, and she had to stop herself so she wouldn’t start blubbering like an idiot in front of this forbidding-looking man.
His expression softened, but only a fraction. “That is a matter of grave concern, and I can see why it would upset you. But I’m afraid I don’t know anything of these young men or where you might find them.”
Alex rocked back on his heels, his hands straining against the pockets of his jeans. Caitlin got the impression he was doing so to prevent himself from grabbing hold of Simón’s arms and shaking him hard to get him to tell the truth. The impulse was completely understandable, but she knew that would be the absolute worst thing he could do.
Then again, what Alex said next wasn’t much better. “Oh, really? Because I could have sworn from the way your daughter reacted that she did know something.”
At once Simón Santiago’s brows swept downward, and his jaw set. “She is high-strung and easily upset. You misinterpreted her reaction. And since I have nothing of use to tell you, I think it’s best that you go.”
“Just like that?” Alex said, his tone disbelieving.
“I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but if you’d called — ”
From the way his eyes began to blaze, Caitlin could tell Alex was really about to let loose on the older man. “It’s fine,” she said, laying a hand on Alex’s arm and beginning to pull him toward the hallway, and from there to the front door. “We’re sorry to have taken up any of your time.”
At least, after resisting her for a second or two, Alex slipped his arm from her grasp and seemed to recover some of his composure. However, he wasn’t mollified enough to offer any sort of parting remarks to Simón, and instead stalked to the front door, opened it so Caitlin could slip out, and then slammed it shut behind the two of them.
“What an asshole,” he growled.
The sky had decided to start misting after all, letting fall fine needle-like drops that felt like pins hitting her skin. “I know. But we can’t force him to tell us anything.”
“No, that’s Matías’ thing.” Alex still sounded extremely irritated, and Caitlin couldn’t blame him. To have driven all this way, only to be treated with slightly more courtesy than someone trying to sell magazine subscriptions door to door?
She wouldn’t call it a waste — not after what the two of them had shared — but she couldn’t help wondering if they might not have been able to come to that point in their relationship in Alex’s home rather than in a hotel room. Then again, maybe those neutral surroundings had helped to relax a few inhibitions. At this point, did it really matter?
All she could do was offer a shrug, and he added,
“Well, I guess your premonition that we wouldn’t need the hotel room was right. I just wish I’d known it was because we were going to get sent packing like a couple of panhandlers or something.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, then went to him and took his hand. At least he reciprocated, wrapping his fingers around hers and giving them a squeeze, so she knew he was angry at Simón Santiago for being a dick and not at her for failing to accurately predict what would happen with this interview.
“Hey!” came a soft voice as they were climbing into the Pathfinder.
Caitlin paused in t
he front seat with her hand still on the door handle and looked over to see Lucinda Santiago hurrying toward them, coming down a narrow path that ran along the tall hedge that separated their property from the neighbors’. That path must have led to the backyard; as Caitlin gazed in astonishment at the young woman while she practically ran the last few steps to the SUV, she noticed a gate in a tall wrought-iron fence standing open.
Without asking for permission, Lucinda grabbed the handle of the rear passenger door and then opened it. She settled herself behind Caitlin before leaning forward and telling Alex, “Drive. Go around the block or something. We need to talk.”
His eyes widened in astonishment for a second, and then he nodded and turned the key in the ignition. He pulled away from the curb, but sedately, as if he knew that peeling away in a screech of rubber would only attract attention. Once they were far enough away that the Santiago house was out of eyeshot, he said, “What’s this about?”
“You know what it’s about.” Lucinda cast a nervous glance over one shoulder, as if to reassure herself that they were a safe distance from her property. “Matías Escobar.”
So that was his last name. Whether knowing it would help them, Caitlin had no idea, but at least it was something. “So he is a member of the clan.”
“Well….”
“Either he is or he isn’t,” Alex put in, turning left down another street, one lined with equally impressive houses.
“His mother was a refugee from El Salvador. She came here when Matías was really young, way before his powers began to manifest. Since she was a powerful healer, a curandera, my father let them stay in our territory, gave them the protection of the clan. I remember him saying once he wished she’d come a few months sooner, because that way she might have been able to help my mother after she had her fall.”
Not sure how she should respond, Caitlin nodded. That would have been difficult, knowing his wife could have been healed, if only Matías’ mother had come into their territory in time. As for Simón offering the woman shelter, Caitlin had heard rumors of such things happening occasionally, especially in the larger clans, but it wasn’t common. “And then when your father discovered what Matías’ talent really was….”
“It wasn’t good.” Lucinda’s shoulders slumped, and she leaned forward in her seat. For the first time, Caitlin realized the other young woman wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and wondered if she should say something. But she decided not to, just because Alex was barely going twenty-five, and she didn’t want to interrupt any of these revelations. “Matías’ mother could control him…sort of…but he still got away with murder.” Her mouth curled faintly, and she added, “Well, not actual murder. But a lot of bad stuff. He started hanging out with Jorge and Tomas, who’d always been trouble as well. Neither of them are particularly strong warlocks, but they started dabbling in things they shouldn’t, digging up rituals that had been buried for years.”
All this sounded pretty much in line with what Caitlin and Alex had encountered so far. “And no one tried to stop them?”
For a second, Lucinda didn’t reply. Her fingers tightened on the seat back, the leather creaking slightly. “They were good at hiding what they were up to. Maybe they would never have been discovered if Matías hadn’t gotten a little too sure of himself and started aiming too high.”
“Too high?” Alex echoed, sounding puzzled.
A flush tinged Lucinda’s warm olive complexion. “He thought — he thought because he had this power that no one else had, and could make people do pretty much what he wanted, that…he could be with me.”
Oh, Goddess. No wonder Simón Santiago wanted to act as if he’d never heard of Matías Escobar or his friends.
Not looking at either Caitlin or Alex, Lucinda went on, “My father found out. He was furious. He’d expected more of me, wanted me to honor the clan by marrying one of my more powerful cousins, and Matías had — in his words — ‘ruined’ me.”
“Seriously?” Alex asked. “Isn’t that sort of…medieval? I mean, you weren’t the prima-in-waiting, were you?”
An immediate shake of the head. “No. So there was really no reason for me to be saving myself, except that that was what my father expected of his daughter. When he found out — that was about six months ago — he ordered Matías out of Santiago territory.”
“Could he do that?” Caitlin asked, then shook her head at herself for the clumsiness of the question. Obviously, Santiago had managed to avoid Matías’ own particular blend of mind control…the real question was how. “I mean, if Matías can make people do pretty much what he wants, how was your father able to keep enough control of himself to exile him?”
“You’ve met my father.” Lucinda’s mouth turned down in a wry smile. “He doesn’t take orders very well. A lifetime of having it his own way, I suppose. So Matías’ powers didn’t have as much effect on him as they might on someone else. I, unfortunately, was pretty susceptible, since I’ve spent my whole life doing what my father says.”
Caitlin murmured, “I’m sorry.”
A shrug. “It’s partly my own fault. But anyway, I don’t know where Matías went. I do know that Tomas and Jorge hung around for a while after their ringleader was gone, but they disappeared about a month ago, too. If they’re working together now, then I have a feeling Matías put out the call to have them come meet him wherever he was hiding.”
While that was an interesting tidbit, it didn’t exactly help solve the issue at hand, namely, Matías’ whereabouts. Caitlin repressed a sigh and wondered if they’d ever be able to get a piece of information that would actually help them.
Alex must have been thinking roughly the same thing, because he said, “Does anyone know where he might have gone? Does he have any relatives except his mother?”
“He has a sister, Olivia. She lives in Temecula.”
Caitlin’s pulse speeded up a fraction. “Do you have her address?”
“Thought you might ask.” Lucinda paused and pulled a small folded-up piece of paper from the pocket of the button-down blouse she wore. “She’s a nunca, but she might help you.”
“Nunca?” Caitlin repeated, wishing she’d taken Spanish in high school instead of French, which at the time she’d thought was far more romantic.
“It means ‘never,’” Alex said, looking uncomfortable. “It’s slang for someone who’s born to a witch family but never develops their one singular talent, and instead can only manage the usual fire-starting and door-unlocking stuff.”
“Oh.” It did sound kind of rude when you thought about it. After all, it was just an accident of nature that some people’s talents never manifested at all. It wasn’t their fault.
“Anyway,” Lucinda went on, “I’m not saying she’d sell out her own brother, but they never did get along very well. Probably because his talents were so strong and hers…weren’t. She moved out to Temecula to get away from him, I think. Her husband’s a contractor or something. A civilian.”
She said the word so dismissively that she might as well have said he was an ex-convict or something. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they now had the one piece of evidence that might lead them to Matías’ lair, wherever that might be.
“Thank you,” Caitlin said, and hoped some of the gratitude she felt was reflected in her voice, if not in those simple words.
“It’s fine. Matías is….” Lucinda let the words trail off, her dark eyes haunted. “He has no limits. He wants what he wants, and that’s it. So I hope you can catch up with him.” Her tone changed abruptly as she addressed Alex. “If you turn right here, and then right again, we’ll be back on my street. You can drop me off at the corner. I’m sure eventually my father will figure out what I’ve done, but no point in rushing the moment of truth.”
“Uh…sure.” Following her instructions, Alex maneuvered through the residential area and then came to a stop a few feet from the corner she’d indicated. As she was lifting the handle to let herself out, he added, “
We really do appreciate your help.”
“No problem.” She got out of the Pathfinder, and for a second, her pretty face twisted into a mask of hate. “I hope you catch that motherfucker.”
And she slammed the door shut and strode off in the direction of her parents’ house.
For a second, Alex and Caitlin just stared at one another. Then she said, “You heard Lucinda. Let’s catch that motherfucker.”
16
Alex set up the route on his iPhone, and he and Caitlin headed out immediately. The drive to Temecula would take around an hour and a half, depending on traffic, but since it was the middle of the day, he had to hope that wouldn’t be too much of a factor. In the seat next to him, Caitlin was keyed up, tense. He couldn’t blame her — this information about Matías’ sister could be the break they’d so desperately needed.
Or she could shut them down just as heinously as Simón Santiago had. Alex supposed it depended on how close she was to her brother, how much familial loyalty she possessed. Once upon a time, he might have said that no one would cover up for a family member who’d done such terrible things, but after he’d heard about some of the things Damon Wilcox had pulled, Alex wasn’t so sure about that particular point of faith in human nature anymore.
“You okay over there?” he asked Caitlin, and she startled before sending him a tentative smile.
“I think so.” Her head tilted to one side, and she continued, “That is, there are some things I’m very okay about. But I’m worried Matías’ sister is going to tell us to drop dead when we ask for her help.”
That reply made him smile a little. This thing wasn’t resolved by a long shot, but at least Caitlin was telling him that relations between the two of them were just fine, even if nothing else was. “She might,” he admitted. “That worries me, too, but we’ll just have to see what happens.”
Caitlin nodded and settled herself back in her seat, then glanced out the window. At what, he wasn’t sure; the area the 10 Freeway cut through at this point in their travels was mostly industrial, and, coupled with the lowering gray sky, anything but inviting.
Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5) Page 21