Darktide

by Christine Pope

  “But — ”

  Connor let go of my hand and stepped forward. “You drove here, right? I mean, you’re not all a bunch of teleporters, are you?”

  The warlock shook his head.

  “Great. Then get back in your minivans or whatever, and get the hell out of Dodge. Let your fearless leader know what happens to people he sends to invade our territory.”

  “That’s — that’s it?” the red-haired witch asked, looking both relieved and terrified.

  “Yes, that’s it,” I replied before adding, “After all, you’re not a threat anymore, are you?”

  The warlock standing next to her flushed with impotent fury, but the witch only said sadly, “No, I guess not.”

  Connor and I stood there and watched as they gathered up their fallen companions and began to shuffle back down the hill. There was a public parking lot just past where the road jogged, and I assumed that was where they’d parked. After the morose little contingent disappeared from sight, I turned back toward the sidewalk, where Levi was waiting, Boyd’s body clutched in his arms. Hayley stood next to him, her face white, and beside her were Tricia and Allegra, also pale.

  Feeling very tired, I said, “Let’s take Boyd home. And I don’t know quite how to manage it, but we need to get as many tourists out of this town as possible. The situation is just too unstable right now.”

  “Allegra and I will handle that,” Tricia said. Her mascara was a smudged black mess, and her eyes still looked red, but at least she appeared in command of herself. “We’ll get some traffic cones and some barricades out here, tell people the road has become unstable and that they’ll need to go up and over the hill into Prescott to get out. It’s not that implausible — all of Cleopatra Hill is shored up and jury-rigged, thanks to the abandoned mines beneath it. We’ll make it work.”

  “Thanks, Tricia,” I said, feeling immeasurably relieved she’d taken on that responsibility. Yes, you could say that was part of the job, since she was an elder, but still, we were all a bit shaky. I looked over at Levi. “Can you manage to carry Boyd all the way to his house?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “It’s the least I can do for him.”

  I offered him a tremulous smile before turning to Rosella and Alberto. “Thank you so much for your assistance here. I’m pretty sure we’ll be safe for a while, but do you mind staying in this spot for now, just in case?”

  “Of course not,” Alberto said. “This is what Isabel sent us here to do. You take care of your fallen warrior.”

  Fallen warrior. I glanced again at Levi with his grim burden, and then at Connor, who looked like he was ready to fight off any future interlopers with his bare hands. Hot tears stung my eyes, and I swallowed. I didn’t have time for tears right now. We had to go take Boyd’s wife the terrible news, and then…

  …well, and then we’d have to go and face our real adversary. No time for phone calls, as Isabel Castillo had suggested. This needed to end.

  I felt as though someone had spent the past hour beating me with blunt objects, but I knew none of us had any time to rest. After going to see Boyd’s wife Meredith and bringing her husband’s body home, Connor and I went to our own house. Allegra stayed with Meredith, to offer her what comfort she could — she’d known Boyd far longer than Tricia or I had — and Tricia went off to see about blockading the town as best she could. A precaution that might not be needed, since we were about to take Escobar’s fight to his own front door, but I felt safer knowing there wouldn’t be any innocent bystanders around to get sucked into another magical battle, should the dark warlock send another wave of attackers against us.

  Once we were home, Connor and I changed out of the good clothes we’d worn to visit Isabel, and got back into much more practical jeans and boots. I put on a black top, out of respect for Boyd. A tiny gesture, one he wouldn’t even see, but I felt I had to do something to show my gratitude for the way he’d stood up to the Ludlow witches and warlocks.

  After that, it was back to Isabel’s house, although this time we sent ourselves directly to her front porch rather than bothering with appearing outside the gates to the compound. I’d barely lifted my hand to knock on the oversized front door when it opened, and she gazed out at us. A swift glance took in my black shirt and pale face, and she nodded.

  “You have bested your attackers, and yet the confrontation was not without its losses,” she said as she let us inside.

  “No,” Connor said. “We lost one of the McAllister clan elders. The Ludlow witches and warlocks Escobar sent against us are running back to California with their tails between their legs, but this has to end here. No more deaths. No more destruction. We have to hit him now, and hard.”

  “One more death,” I put in, my voice cold and hard, not even sounding like myself. “Joaquin Escobar’s.”

  Isabel Castillo nodded. “Yes, I think it is time. You appear armed for battle” — she gave us a quick look up and down — “and so I will do the same. Give me a few moments. There is a pitcher of lemon water and some glasses on the coffee table in the living room.”

  And she moved away from us, up the curved staircase that led to the second floor. Incongruously, I realized I was thirsty, so I went ahead and walked into the living room and poured some water into two of the glasses that waited there. I handed one to Connor, and he raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s kind of creepy, don’t you think?” he asked with a lift of his chin upstairs.

  “Creepy how?” I swallowed some of the lemon water, glad of its cool tang.

  “Creepy how she seemed to know we were coming, had this water waiting for us. Like she’s a seer, but not a seer like Caitlin, who only has visions occasionally. It’s almost as if Isabel knows everything that’s going to happen.”

  “Well, I don’t know about everything,” I said. My free hand touched my stomach, just for a moment. “Yes, she knew I was pregnant, and she seemed to think she’d seen a future where our daughter came to live here in Santa Fe, but if she was really omniscient, then she’d already know how all this was going to turn out.”

  “All right, maybe not everything,” Connor allowed. “But a lot.”

  “That’s probably why she’s prima of such a powerful clan.” I shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. “I’m sure if she actually did know whether we were going to succeed against Escobar, she would have told us.”

  “Yes, I would have,” came Isabel’s voice from the doorway. I gave a guilty start, and she continued as she walked toward us, “I see a good deal. I do not see everything, for that would make me uncomfortably like God, would it not? At any rate, I had a feeling you would need Rosella and Alberto especially, and that was true, wasn’t it?”

  “Very true,” Connor replied. “I’m not sure we could have managed without them. That’s why they’re still in Jerome — Angela and I thought it better if they stayed and provided some cover while we were gone.”

  “It’s not a problem, is it?” I asked.

  Another one of those cold smiles that never seemed to reach her eyes. Even though she’d changed her sheath dress for a pair of black slacks and a wine-colored button-up shirt, she still had that aspect of a queen granting an audience. “No, of course it isn’t a problem. I sent them to help with the defense of your town, and it seems that they are continuing to do that very thing. I have no worries that you will not send them back once they have served their purpose.”

  Well, I wasn’t going to argue, although the way she spoke of Alberto, who was her own son, did disconcert me somewhat. You’d think she’d be a little more concerned about what happened to him…but then, if she could see bits and pieces of the future, she probably knew there was nothing for her to worry about.

  “So…what’s our plan?” Connor asked. “We don’t have a lot of time to waste. Yes, those Ludlows are going to have to limp back to California on their own power, but you know they must have already called Escobar to let him know what happened in Jerome.”

  “True,” Isab
el said. “Still, I would not be too concerned for your children. Not yet, anyway. They are the only real bargaining chip he has, especially now that he knows you can mount an effective defense. It’s more likely that he will attack elsewhere, in either Wilcox or de la Paz territory.”

  “Do you think he’d go after Zoe?” I asked, worried for the newly fledged prima. She might not have been defenseless, but she also couldn’t command the sorts of powers that Connor and I working together did.

  “No,” Isabel said at once. “I had a flash of her, in a house not unlike this one. She had many witches and warlocks around her, including one who commands defensive spells.”

  “That must be Jack,” I said, realizing that Zoe must have sent for everyone in her clan that she thought could protect her. Was it enough? It would have to be. “Jack Sandoval, Zoe’s cousin. That’s his gift. So I think we can relax about her…I hope.”

  “But my clan is basically undefended.” Connor grimaced. “I knew we should have checked in with Marie before we came here.”

  “Marie knows what she’s doing,” I said, hoping my words would help to reassure him that the Wilcoxes weren’t as easy a target as he thought they were. “And Margot is there, and Lucas and so many others. They know to be on their guard.”

  Connor’s shoulders lifted, but I saw the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, straining against what he probably saw as circumstances rendering him impotent when it came to defending his clan. “I’ll have to hope so. Anyway, we know the layout of the Santiago house well enough now, so we should be able to teleport in there without too much trouble. Last time, though, Escobar had both Marisol — the Santiago prima — and the Ludlows’ prima-in-waiting with him. Together, they were too powerful for us.” He paused then, face going still and sorrowful as he recalled the way we’d lost Luz.

  “A tragedy,” Isabel said. “But I am far stronger than the de la Paz prima was. Let us reach out to one another with our powers now, to see what we are working with.”

  Even though I knew it was necessary to perform such a test, I hesitated for a moment. It was one thing to join with Luz, whom I’d at least known fairly well after working together for the past few years. But to let my energy mingle with that of this cold-voiced woman who didn’t seem to be ruffled by anything? My instincts cried against it, but I made myself extend a hand to her.

  She reached over and took it, and Connor wrapped his fingers around mine on the other side. At once I flared with so much energy, I felt as though a nuclear reactor had come alive inside me. I stared down at the hand that held Isabel’s, halfway expecting to see it glowing from within. It looked the same though, the same faintly tanned skin, the antique diamond Connor had bought for me glittering on my ring finger.

  “Wow,” he said, and let go, breaking the contact.

  I let go of Isabel’s hand as well, and she nodded. “Yes, that seems as though it will work, even if he is working with the prima and the prima-in-waiting. The Santiago witch is still newly come to her powers, correct?”

  “She is,” I replied. “And Escobar’s been controlling her with his mind the whole time, so she’s not exactly as on top of things as she could be. And I honestly don’t know if the Ludlow prima-in-waiting is even there anymore. You’d think her clan and her parents wouldn’t want her anywhere near the Santiago house after our last attack.”

  “You would think that,” Isabel said. “But who knows what might be going through their minds? We will have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that she might still be with Joaquin Escobar. But she is young and does not have access to all her powers yet, so she should not be much of a threat.”

  I hoped so. However, I warned myself not to get too confident, no matter how strong the three of us working together might be. Going up against Damon Wilcox back in the day had been frightening enough.

  This…this was terrifying, because I knew exactly what the stakes were.

  “So,” Connor said, “the upstairs bedroom, or the living room? If we go straight to the living room, there’s a chance we’ll end up right on top of Escobar. But if we appear in the bedroom, it’s pretty likely that we’ll have to spend more time searching the house for him.”

  “The living room,” both Isabel and I said simultaneously. Under other circumstances, I might have laughed, but I didn’t find anything funny about the situation. I paused, and Isabel went on, “We want as much of an element of surprise as possible. Of course, he must be expecting you to come back and try another attack, especially now that he has your children. But I don’t think he yet knows that you are working with the Castillo clan — Rosella and Alberto didn’t identify themselves in any way, did they?”

  “No,” I replied. “There wasn’t much time for introductions. If anything, the Ludlow witches probably thought Rosella and Alberto were de la Pazes.”

  “Good,” Isabel said. “Then I think Joaquin Escobar will be surprised to see me.” She held out her hands. The diamond she wore on her left ring finger glittered balefully in the light coming through the tall windows, like a watchful eye.

  I took a breath, then clasped her hand in mine. Connor held my other hand, and reached for Isabel’s fingers. The circle was complete, and the room faded around us.

  As it disappeared, I prayed that we weren’t making a huge mistake.

  24

  Angela

  This trip seemed to move even more quickly than the previous times we’d teleported. It could have been that having Isabel’s powers connected to ours gave us an extra jolt, like applying nitrous to a race car’s engine. Whatever the reason, I barely had time to take in a breath, let alone release it, before the three of us appeared in the living room of what had once been Simón and Beatriz Santiago’s house.

  It was empty.

  We all took a quick glance around, but I could tell no one was here. One of the windows was open, and the filmy curtains on either side of it moved languidly in the mild May breeze. From the street outside, I heard the sound of a car moving past, but otherwise, all was still. Well, outside anyway. Inside, I was all jangling nerves, my blood fairly singing with adrenaline.

  Connor moved to the entrance and looked into the foyer, then down the hall. “Nothing here, either.”

  Isabel and I came up behind him. As he’d said, all seemed to be empty. Then again, this was a big house. Escobar could be anywhere.

  “Check upstairs?” I asked, and Isabel shook her head.

  “No, he’s not up there. Someplace outside…out back.”

  Both Connor and I arched an eyebrow at her, and she smiled.

  “As I told you earlier, I don’t see everything, but I still see a good deal. It seems there’s some kind of building out there, one with many windows.”

  “The greenhouse,” I said, and Connor looked at me in surprise. “Caitlin told me about it once. She said that Lucinda had mentioned it, that her father’s hobby was raising orchids.”

  “Got it,” Connor replied. “Then we’d better go check it out.”

  As we headed toward the back of the house, I wondered what had happened to those orchids. Had anyone been taking care of them these past few weeks, or had Joaquin Escobar allowed them to wither and die, their fragile lives unimportant to him, just as the lives of everyone who wasn’t an ally weren’t important?

  The hallway opened up into what was clearly the TV room — it was furnished with several large overstuffed couches in caramel-colored chenille, and a vast flat-screen television hung on one wall over the fireplace. Under other circumstances, I would have thought it a welcoming space, but now I could only look at the French doors that opened out onto a terrace and know that once we stepped through them, there was a very good chance we might never come this way again.

  Isabel reached out and took my hand. “Courage, Angela,” she said. “I haven’t seen the end of this thing, but I know your strength. We will prevail.”

  I wished I could be that confident. Since I knew anything I said would be inadequate,
I merely nodded in acknowledgment and took hold of Connor’s hand as well. He opened one of the doors, and we stepped out onto the terrace.

  It was large, with tastefully arranged iron furniture and blooming flowers in oversized urns. Although it was late afternoon, the air was warm, caressing as a kiss. Three steps led down to an expansive lawn, and off to one side was a handsome glass structure, clearly the greenhouse.

  However, I didn’t get much of a chance to get anything more than a glimpse, because my heart seemed to stop at an all-too-familiar sound.

  Ian and Emily, laughing.

  Yes, there they were on the lawn, throwing a large blue ball back and forth, playing keep-away with Mia. A horrible mixture of relief and fear rushed through me, seeing them like that, because although they seemed to be well enough for the moment, I understood the danger they were in. Their backs were to us, and so I guessed they didn’t even realize we were there. But standing close by, watching as they played, was Joaquin Escobar, and the pretty young woman I knew had to be Marisol Valdez. A pair of sunglasses concealed her eyes, so I couldn’t tell if she wore the same blank expression I’d noted the last time I saw her.

  Escobar looked up and saw us standing there on the top step of the terrace. A slow smile spread across his lips…not a smile of welcome, but one of triumph.

  “I thought you would come,” he said.

  “You didn’t think we’d let you keep our children, did you?” I asked.

  A shrug. He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt and tan linen pants, and looked as though he should be sipping margaritas at a beachside cantina somewhere. “No, of course not. I was waiting for you. Now we can finish what I started the last time you tried to bring the fight to me.”