Strange Magic (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 9)

by Christine Pope

  “Okay,” Zoe responded, looking somewhat relieved that he didn’t want to return to Luz Trujillo’s home. “Then it’s back to my parents’ house, I guess…or maybe we could go to your hotel? It would be more private.”

  That was for sure. All sorts of red flags went up at the thought of having Zoe alone in his hotel room. As little as he liked the idea of taking her home, he knew he couldn’t risk being with her at the hotel. He was tired and on edge, and even though he’d like to think that his self-control could stand up to the challenge, he just didn’t know for sure.

  “Well — ” he began, but didn’t get any further than that because his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, frowned at the unfamiliar number, and decided he’d better answer it anyway.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  Jack Sandoval, sounding pissed off as hell. “Hi, Jack,” Evan said. Zoe sat up a little straighter and wrapped her hands around her margarita glass, looking worried. “We’re in a place a few blocks away. We’re fine. We just thought it would better to put some distance between us and…you know.”

  A pause. “You’re at a bar.”

  Was Zoe’s uncle psychic? Or maybe he just knew the area really well. “Um, yeah. I figured we’d hang out here for a while, and then I’d drive Zoe home.”

  She didn’t look too thrilled with that comment. One eyebrow lifted, and she mouthed, Oh, really? at him and took another swig of her margarita.

  “Okay, I’ll pass that along to Luz.”

  “How’s the girl?”

  “She’s fine. The paramedics took her to the hospital for observation, but it looks like she just fainted.”

  As Evan had thought, but he couldn’t help exhaling in relief before he allowed himself another sip of his Cuervo.

  Jack went on, “We searched the area but didn’t find anything. Got a few statements from eyewitnesses, but so many had fled the scene that there weren’t too many people to talk to. And what they said was so contradictory that I’m pretty sure the whole incident is going to get written off as some kind of mass hysteria.”

  “So we dodged a bullet.”

  “More or less.” The detective’s tone sharpened slightly. “But that’s no excuse to brush off what happened here. We might not be as lucky next time. That thing has got to be contained before it causes any more trouble.”

  Evan had to suppress the urge to reply with, Yes, sir! Instead, he said, as calmly as he could manage, “We’re working on it. I got some valuable information from your prima’s library, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we get rid of that thing permanently.”

  “Good. Tell Zoe to take her damn phone with her next time, all right?”

  “Um, sure — ”

  The call ended there, however, saving Evan from having to say anything else. He replaced the phone in his pocket and gave Zoe a sour look. “Your uncle doesn’t sound very happy with us.”

  “Probably just jealous. I’m sure he’d rather be in here having a drink instead of going back to the station and filling out a report.”

  Well, when she put it that way…. “Maybe you’re right. But he’s also worried that this is going to escalate if we don’t stop it soon.”

  The half-smile she’d been wearing disappeared. “I’m worried about that, too. You think I want to be the one responsible for the whole world finding out about us? Um, no. But if you have any ideas for how we could be handling this better than we already are, I’m all ears.”

  She had him there. At least they were able to get rid of the creature every time it showed up. Only…this last time it had almost looked as if the thing had made itself disappear. Yes, Evan had spoken the words of the banishing spell, but Zoe hadn’t yet powered up her fireballs. Had the monster taken off because it didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a nasty attack from its lady love?

  Okay, Evan really didn’t like the sound of that.

  He picked up his shot glass and drained the rest of his tequila. Not bothering to reply to her last remark, he said, “We should get going.”

  Zoe gave him a pained look. “I haven’t finished my margarita.”

  “Then finish it while I take care of the check.”

  Her dark eyes flashed fire at his tone, but she didn’t reply, only picked up her glass and took a long pull through the straw. He got off the stool where he’d been sitting and went in search of the waitress, who was hanging out on the patio and chatting up a couple of guys in shorts and Sun Devils T-shirts. She looked less than happy about being interrupted, but she did get the check from the receipt book in her apron, then went to ring up the tab at the cash register.

  By the time he got back to the table, Zoe’s margarita glass had been drained, and she was standing there, arms crossed, as she stared out at the street.

  “See something?” Evan asked.

  “Not really. I’m just looking at all those people out there, shopping and looking at gallery windows. Having fun.” She tilted her head up at him, dark eyes meeting his. Her gaze awoke an unwelcome warmth in him, and he crossed his arms, willing the unruly flush of desire away. “Wouldn’t you like to have fun, Evan? You know — go out and act like normal people?”

  “We’re not normal people,” he pointed out, and her face fell.

  “No,” she said, her voice tight as she turned away and began to move toward the exit. “I guess we’re not.”

  13

  On the drive back to her house, Zoe forced herself to stare out the car window. If she didn’t keep her gaze fixed outward — if she allowed herself to look back over at Evan — she had the unfortunate feeling that she might burst into tears.

  Some kind of prima she was going to turn out to be.

  She tried to tell herself that she was just exhausted from all this running around, and that this particular confrontation with the creature had been a lot more unsettling than she’d bargained for. The last thing she’d expected was that he — it, whatever — would actually be able to speak to her. Plead with her.

  Crap.

  And then to have Evan shoot her down like that…. Well, what had she expected? He hadn’t come down here to Phoenix to socialize. He’d come here to clean up her mess.

  It was all the margarita’s fault. They mixed them pretty strong at that bar, and the tequila had hit her nearly empty stomach like a ton of bricks. If she’d been more in control of herself, she wouldn’t have reached out to Evan that way, would have kept things casual the same way they’d always been so far in their interactions.

  Problem was, maybe it had been the tequila talking, but she did want to be with Evan like that. She wanted to walk with him in the sunshine, have him hold her hand. Go into a gallery and talk about which paintings they liked and which ones they didn’t. She really didn’t know all that much about art, but she knew that one day in the not-too-distant future she’d have her own house with her consort, and she’d be able to decorate it as she liked, and that might include choosing the art which hung on the walls.

  That is, if she ever managed to end up with a true consort. She very much feared that her family would force her to marry some halfway suitable cousin, even if he wasn’t her soul mate, even if he wasn’t the one to make her heart sing and her blood hot with hidden fire, just because it wasn’t safe to have an unattached prima-in-waiting hanging around. Her powers could still be bound to a different clan if she was snatched up the way Angela McAllister had been by Damon Wilcox, or like Matías had tried to kidnap Zoe herself. There was just far too much risk involved to allow a prima-in-waiting to remain alone and unattached.

  The tear had dripped its way past the end of her nose before she even realized she’d started to cry. In horror, she reached up to wipe at her eyes before any more betraying drops could fall.

  Of course Evan chose that moment to glance over at her. His brows pulled together behind the black Ray-Bans he wore. “Zoe, are you okay?”

  “F-fine,” she managed, but that was all she could get out. She turned
her head to look back out the window, where the landscape had dissolved into a smeary blur of tears.

  “Zoe.”

  “I said I’m fine, Evan!” she burst out. “Anyway, what do you care?”

  Dead silence. She risked the quickest, tiniest peek at him and saw that now he faced straight forward, his hands clutched on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles showed white. When he spoke, his voice was tight with anger. “That’s a hell of a thing to say.”

  Because she couldn’t help herself, she shifted in the seat so she faced forward as well. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look straight at him. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? I mean, you just came down here to help out my clan. My personal problems aren’t any of your business, right?”

  Another long pause. “Zoe, I know this had been hard for you — ”

  “‘Hard’?” she repeated scornfully. “You don’t know the first thing about it. Everybody watching you all the time, making sure you don’t do anything that could jeopardize your standing as the prima-in-waiting. Having to tell your friends that you belong to some weird religion that doesn’t allow you to date, and that’s why you couldn’t go to prom and why you couldn’t have a boyfriend. Everyone on your case so you’re Little Miss Perfect, a shining beacon for the clan. It fucking sucks, that’s what it does.”

  During this outburst, he remained quiet and didn’t try to interrupt. In a way, Zoe was glad of her anger, because it helped to dry up the flow of tears before they could completely destroy her makeup. She lifted the back of her hand to her eye to mop up the last bit of moisture.

  As she did so, Evan said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t — well, I didn’t know how it was for you. I’m not saying it wasn’t tough for my cousin Angela, but she didn’t have to go through all that.”

  “Probably not,” Zoe said, repressing a sigh. “Things are a lot more structured in my clan, I think. And for the past year, I’ve tried so damn hard to be what they wanted me to be. I got rid of the pink in my hair — ”

  “You had pink hair?” he interrupted, his tone a mixture of surprise and amusement.

  “Just a streak. And I stopped wearing my Doc Martens and those band T-shirts my mother hated so much, and I tried to be the good girl they wanted me to be, and what did it get me?” She crossed her arms, glaring out the windshield at the BMW in front of them. It had a vanity plate with the legend “BMRBOY” on it, and right then she wished she was wearing her Docs again so she could plant her booted foot right in the middle of that stupid license plate. “All that, and I still couldn’t even get a real consort, just a bunch of guys who didn’t know how to kiss.”

  This time Evan shot her a sideways glance. “They were all bad kissers? Every last one of them?”

  “Well….” All right, maybe she was being a little melodramatic there. Problem was, she didn’t even know how to judge. When you were looking for your consort, either the kiss was a total dud or the next thing to a nuclear explosion. There wasn’t a lot in between. “Okay, I don’t have much basis for comparison. But is it any wonder I got so desperate? I thought I’d fulfilled my side of the bargain, but the universe sure backed out of its end of things.”

  “I’m not sure that’s how the universe works.”

  “Maybe not. But….” She let the words trail off there, since she wasn’t even exactly sure what she’d meant to say. “Anyway, I’m sorry I lost it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “It’s all right. I get it.” He paused, then added, “I think we’ve both got low blood sugar. Why don’t we get something to eat before I take you back to the house?”

  His tone sounded contrite. And she liked the olive branch he was holding out. That margarita had only woken up her stomach, and she knew she should eat something. Besides, maybe all was not lost. She could have him take her to her favorite place in Fountain Hills, which was pretty and romantic without being too obvious about the whole thing.

  Then who knew what might happen?

  “We can go to Sofrita,” she said.

  The restaurant wasn’t big, but what it lacked in space it made up in charm. The walls were painted a warm terra-cotta color, and hung with crosses and tin mirrors and wrought-iron candle holders. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, none of the candles had been lit, but Evan saw how it was probably a very romantic space in the evening.

  So romantic, actually, that he couldn’t help wondering at Zoe’s motives for bringing him here, even if it was still broad daylight. But she just chattered away about how she loved the food here, and how it was nice to have something decent here in Fountain Hills so they didn’t always have to drive down into Scottsdale to get a good meal.

  She ordered sangria, and promptly produced her I.D. when the waitress asked for it. Evan wasn’t sure about the wisdom of drinking wine on top of the tequila they’d just had, so he asked for water.

  Zoe gave him the side-eye after he made that request. “It’s just sangria,” she said. “It’s not even as strong as drinking plain wine.”

  “Maybe,” he allowed. “But I’m driving, and I can only imagine the look I’d get from your parents if I gave even a hint of being intoxicated when I dropped you off.”

  “I doubt they’ll be home yet,” she said. Now that they were seated in the restaurant, she appeared far less tense than she had in the car. He really didn’t blame her for breaking down like that, since he couldn’t imagine the pressure she’d been under for almost the past year. “When they go to ride herd on the contractors, they usually don’t even leave the office until after six.”

  And it was only three now. Was this Zoe’s oblique way of letting him know that they’d be allowed some alone time in the house, in case he wanted to take advantage of that? But no. No way. He wasn’t stupid enough to try messing around with the de la Paz clan’s prima-in-waiting in her own home.

  Actually, scratch that. He wasn’t stupid enough to mess around with Zoe, period.

  No matter what his baser instincts might be trying to tell him.

  “Even so,” he said. “It wouldn’t be very responsible.”

  “And are you always responsible?”

  He shrugged. “Some days more than others.”

  The waitress showed up then with Evan’s water and Zoe’s sangria. Because this restaurant was a favorite of hers, he went ahead and let her order, since he wouldn’t have even known where to start. She asked for ropa vieja tacos and elote and a couple of other things he didn’t recognize, but it all sounded good.

  After the waitress left, he remarked, “That’s a lot of food.”

  “It’s tapas-style. Small plates. Anyway, I’m hungry. Facing down that — well, I guess it took a lot out of me.”

  Evan couldn’t argue with that. Now that the adrenaline rush had subsided, he was feeling starved himself. They couldn’t talk about what had happened with the monster, since they needed a far more private venue for that, but Zoe’s breakdown in the car still bothered him, even if she was now acting as though everything was okay.

  He picked up his glass of water and took a large swallow before asking, “Are you going to be all right, seeing this thing through to the end?”

  Her brows drew together. “Of course I am!” But her gaze shifted away from him as she lifted her glass of sangria and sipped from it. Her chest rose and fell as she drew in a large breath. Then she went on, “I’m sorry about — about in the car. It won’t happen again.”

  “It’s okay if it does,” he said, and her dark eyes flared with surprise. “You may be the prima-in-waiting, but you’re also human. It’s okay to flip out every once in a while.”

  “Not according to my parents or my aunt, it isn’t.” She fiddled with a corner of the cocktail napkin that had come with her drink. “I’m supposed to be Polly Perfect. And then to screw up this badly — ”

  “We’ll fix it,” he assured her, but from the way her full mouth twisted, he had a feeling she didn’t believe him.

  “So you say. And I know we have to keep tryi
ng, but….” She sipped some more sangria. “My birthday is just nine days away now. Nine. That’s not a lot of time. And while we’re running around trying to fix this problem, I’m not available to meet any candidates.”

  “There are more?” Evan asked, trying to sound casual. He really hated the idea of Zoe having to kiss a bunch of random guys, even though he knew she didn’t have any choice.

  “Of course. I mean, she hasn’t given me any specific names, but Aunt Luz said something about reaching out to the Castillo clan in New Mexico. I just don’t know if she actually did anything about it, because all this crap happened. And I know there are some older cousins from other parts of our territory that she’s planning to circle back to, even though she skipped over them before.”

  Zoe didn’t sound happy about any of that, and Evan couldn’t blame her. The cousins thing could be strange, but there was nothing wrong with it as long as the relationship was attenuated enough. And of course there were de la Paz cousins down in the Tucson area and along Arizona’s southern border with Mexico, people she probably didn’t know very well, if at all. It wouldn’t be like asking her to marry someone she’d grown up with.

  The Castillo comment did surprise him, just because he’d always heard that the New Mexico clan was in bed with the Wilcoxes, for whatever reason. But now that relations with the Wilcoxes had changed so much, maybe the Castillos weren’t off limits anymore. Obviously, because of what had happened with Matías Escobar, the Santiago clan in California was off the table when it came to possible consorts.

  Of course, Evan didn’t like the idea of any of them being with Zoe, no matter what her aunt or her parents might think of the new candidates they were trying to find. But he knew he couldn’t say that, couldn’t act as if he had a vested interest in whoever her consort turned out to be.

  “But,” she went on with a sigh, “I don’t think Aunt Luz wants to approach any of them until our little problem gets fixed one way or another. Too much explaining. I know she’s trying really hard to keep the other members of the clan from finding out.”