Three Tequilas (Althea Rose 3)

by Tricia O'Malley

  Trace took a bite of his bagel and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Okay. Let’s muddle through these contracts. I don’t like to sign anything unless my lawyer goes over it too.”

  “I already had my lawyer go through them. Nothing dodgy, just that they are very specific about the confidentiality of the expedition, that all images are owned by them – not us – and that all information on the whereabouts of the wreck is exclusive information to them.”

  “Basically we saw nothing, we heard nothing, and we know nothing,” I grumbled as I swirled my spoon around in my yogurt parfait. My psychic senses were telling me this was going to be big trouble.

  And yet the little girl deep inside of me screamed that she wanted to go on a treasure hunt.

  “Hard to turn down an honest-to-god treasure hunt, isn’t it?” I mused, pointing a finger at Trace.

  His smile flashed across his face again.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “May the goddess help us all,” I said to Trace as I held my hand across the table to shake his, ignoring the tingles that went through me when his hand touched my palm. “When do I meet this professor?”

  “Tomorrow morning. We’ll pick him up from his hotel. Be ready,” Trace sent me a cheeky wink. “We ride at dawn.”

  Chapter Three

  Even though I knew the potential for danger was high, I couldn’t help but be excited about the expedition. I wondered what El Serpiente looked like – was it set in gold? Cut or uncut? I daydreamed about a mythological serpent god dancing around a fire, wearing the emerald around his neck.

  Quetzalcoatl.

  The stuff of legends, really.

  I pedaled my bike lazily away from downtown Tequila Key, turning down a lane to cruise by Miss Elva’s house to see if she was out front. Miss Elva, Tequila Key’s resident voodoo priestess, had an attitude larger than life – and the wardrobe to match.

  I also considered her one of my best friends.

  “Here comes trouble. Awful early for you to be out and about on a Sunday, ain’t it? Shouldn’t you be at church? Or wound around that handsome hunk of eye candy you’ve hooked?” Miss Elva slapped her knee as she hollered to me from where she sat on the front porch of her two-story shingle home. She’d placed a comfy rocking chair with bright cushions in her favorite corner of the porch, and often spent time watching the world go by.

  She didn’t welcome visitors all that often, if the hard, straight-backed, single wooden chair – with no cushions, mind you – was any indication. But I knew my presence was always welcome.

  For the most part.

  “Church? Aren’t you the funny one! I’m communing with nature on this beautiful morning that the Goddess has bestowed upon us.” I grinned up at Miss Elva as I perched my bike against the railing of her porch steps and climbed up to see her. I eyed the visitor’s chair and decided to stand instead. Leaning back against the railing, I crossed my arms over my chest and took in today’s outfit.

  Miss Elva smiled up at me, a brilliant orange caftan, with peacock feathers around the wrists and lining the hem, covering her generous body. A matching peacock feather was tucked in her hair amidst the intricate braids woven around her head and up to a bun at the top. She looked every inch the regal queen, and a part of me wished I could be Miss Elva when I grew up.

  “Looking smashing as always,” I said.

  Miss Elva drew a critical eye over my outfit.

  “I can’t say the same for you, child. What did you do – roll right out of bed and go for a bike ride?”

  “Hey! It’s not that bad,” I said, smoothing a hand down my rumpled black maxi dress.

  “Child, please. I know what I’m looking at, don’t I? Now, what’s got you up and about this morning? Why aren’t you with Cash?”

  “Cash left early this morning to go up to Miami to sign a contract. He should be back tomorrow afternoon and then staying for a whole week this time – it’ll be nice to have him around.”

  “He still looking at property down here?”

  I shrugged. He’d mentioned it a while ago – but the conversation about him moving here had stalled out recently.

  “We’ll see.”

  Miss Elva harrumphed and rocked once in her chair before looking back at me.

  “You just out for coffee then?”

  “Actually, I met with Trace. We’ve got a…” I thought about it for a moment. I’d signed a confidentiality agreement so I had to be careful what I said. But Miss Elva was old magick – so if I told her to read my mind, it wasn’t technically breaking the contract.

  “What am I thinking of?” I asked Miss Elva in lieu of answering her question. I focused on the emerald and its name, hoping she would pluck it from my head.

  Miss Elva’s pretty brown eyes narrowed as she studied me for a moment. Then her eyebrows rose and she let out a low whistle.

  “Tell me you aren’t trying to find El Serpiente.”

  “Bingo.” I breathed out a sigh of relief, happy that I had stayed within the terms of my contract. There was a lot of money on the table, and I could see a vacation to Europe or someplace lovely hovering on the horizon once I got paid. For the most part, I made more than enough money to live on: My townhouse was paid off, I had no car payment, and I had a cushy savings in the bank. Don’t let the stereotypes of psychics fool you - the tarot world can be a very lucrative business. It didn’t hurt that Luna was excellent with money and kept an eagle eye on my finances as well as her own.

  But still – it wasn’t every day you were offered a $50,000 paycheck for a few weeks of work.

  “Fifty thousand dollars! Whooo, honey. What have you gone and gotten yourself into now?” Miss Elva tilted her head at me and began to rock her chair in earnest – a sure sign she was becoming agitated.

  I sighed. Who was I kidding? I was totally going to tell Miss Elva all the details. With my luck, she’d probably be the one who’d save me or find El Serpiente. It was never a bad thing to have Miss Elva in my back pocket.

  “It’s a research team from London, led by one Professor Johansson. It’s all very hush-hush. Trace will help them find their coordinates and lead the dives, and I’ll be taking pictures and documenting everything. They were clear that they own all the rights to the treasure, as well as the copyright to all the pictures.”

  “What do you know about that stone?”

  “Just what Trace told me over coffee this morning. I’ve come right from there with no time to research it more.”

  “That there stone does not need to be falling into the wrong hands. Powerful stuff you’re messing in, Miss Thing.” Miss Elva’s rocking picked up pace.

  “I mean, is it really an Aztec god’s stone?” I wasn’t about to try and pronounce the name that Trace had managed to pronounce at breakfast.

  “So the legend goes. The feathered serpent. He always wore a particular talisman, and the stone was rumored to be an emerald as big as an ostrich egg. Many spells and great powers were said to be infused into that stone. It’s not a thing to be trifled with. It can take over, you know.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her, then turned to scan the street when I heard a car door slam. I held my hand up to wave to the neighbor, then turned back to Miss Elva.

  “Take over how? Explain, please.”

  “You know, stones are meant for their masters. That type of stone at least. If it can sense it’s more powerful than you, it can take over. For example, if it falls into the wrong hands, it may feed off the strongest emotion of the person holding it. Say the person is really greedy, which I’m assuming they would be if they’re trying to get their hands on El Serpiente – well, the stone can feed off that and compel the person to do far more harm than their original intentions. It takes a powerful hand to rule a powerful stone. You must remember that while they are tools and talismans, they do have their own energy. Some are conduits for energy, and some give off
energy. El Serpiente is both.”

  I dug my toe into a floorboard of her porch.

  “This is bad, then?”

  “I suggest that if you find it, you be the one to recover it. And before you do so, get some training from Luna on how to hold a stone in a stasis state. She’ll teach you the spell. You’ll need it, most likely.”

  “I highly doubt the research team will let me hold the stone.”

  “And I’m telling you that it’s your job to get your hands on it before they do. This is bad. Some things are meant to remain uncovered, and this is one of them. It’s meant to stay buried.”

  “Here I thought this was going to be some miraculous recovery – maybe something that could be added to a museum. And now you’re making it sound like it’s going to take over the world.”

  “Child, when that stone was stolen and on its trip back to Spain, eleven ships sank and hundreds of men died in a matter of days. Days. Think about that. What would possess a seafaring man, who’s studied the weather and commanded ships all his grown life, to set sail right before hurricane season? He was blinded by the riches, blinded by power, and blinded by the stone. El Serpiente wanted him to sail – just like it wanted them all to die. The stone never should have been taken from that temple. You know that’s what happened, don’t you? It was stolen from an Aztec temple. And it cost the Spanish fleet their lives.”

  Her words made goosebumps rise on my arms, even though the mid-morning heat was already close to eighty degrees. Sure, the stuff of legends gets added to and embossed over the years – but this was Miss Elva, and she always gave it to you straight.

  “You think I should back out.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but I had to know.

  “I think that if it’s going to be found, better for it to be by someone like you, who’s more comfortable with magickal things and can diffuse some of its power for a while. At least until you can get it to Luna and me, where we can work our magick on it.”

  “What makes you think they’ll let me get that far with the stone?”

  Miss Elva leveled her gaze at me. “You’ll have to make it happen.”

  “Great. Real stinking great.”

  “You signed the contract, honeychild, not me. But you know I’ll help you.”

  I blew out a breath and nodded my thanks.

  “Tell Rafe I said hi, by the way. Wherever he is.”

  Rafe was Miss Elva’s pirate ghost and a regular fixture by her side. He was deeply in love with Miss Elva, loved to tell tales of his seafaring days, and was an all-around lecherous old coot. But we all loved him.

  Well, those of us who could see and hear him, that is.

  “Child, he’s sleeping in this morning,” Miss Elva scoffed and shook her head, looking up at me. “Like a damn ghost needs any sleep.”

  Chapter Four

  A swipe of tongue across my face jolted me from a dream of being on a ship at sea, riding out a storm.

  “Hank!” I gasped, holding a hand to my heart. I shifted to look at my Boston terrier, Hank, as he looked at me quizzically from his spot on the pillow next to me. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down. The dream had seemed so real – I could almost taste the spray of salt water on my lips.

  Slanting a look at the clock, I groaned. Don’t you just hate it when you wake up twenty minutes before your alarm? Not like I’d gotten much sleep to speak of. I’d spent much of my Sunday sitting on the porch with my laptop, throwing a ball for Hank and researching El Serpiente.

  What I’d found had confirmed Miss Elva’s information – and added to it. From what I could piece together, the Spanish Treasure Fleet hadn’t been the first expedition to steal El Serpiente. There had been several attempts made prior to that.

  And each expedition had ended in death.

  I cuddled Hank closer as I gulped at the thought. Statistically speaking, 100% of the people who had sought to claim El Serpiente had died.

  Odds were not in my favor on this one.

  I sighed and kissed Hank’s head. “I hope I didn’t get myself in over my head this time,” I told him. He reached out and pawed my hand – his sign that he wanted me to scratch his belly.

  Oh well – I was in it now. I’d signed the contracts.

  Though as far as I was concerned, contracts could be broken. I was going to take this one moment at a time – and if my spidey senses signaled danger, then I was out. I’d had more than enough brushes with death in recent months. I was determined to live a more normal life.

  But who am I kidding? I’m a psychic with apparent magickal powers.

  Hank squirmed against me, annoyed that I had stopped scratching his tummy.

  “Listen bud, today’s an early one. But I’ve got Miss Elva stopping by at lunch to play with you. You love Miss Elva and she spoils you like all get-out. So don’t get mad that we’re getting up earlier than usual.” I sighed as I pushed myself from the bed. Just shy of five A.M. was not among my normal waking hours, but Trace had wanted us to get an early start so we’d be ready to hit the water just as the sun came up. It was typically the best time to dive anyway – visibility was better and the water might be calmer.

  Hank tilted his head at me in question as I slid from the bed and stretched, grumbling through my morning routine, then stepped in front of my closet to grab a cover-up and swim suit.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and Hank launched himself from the bed, his nails clattering across the floor as he raced downstairs to wait by the back door.

  The dream stayed with me as I slid the back door open for Hank to go do his business, shuffled through making coffee, and poured some granola in a bowl. I was familiar with life on the water, as I dove weekly and was on a boat pretty much every other day. People in Tequila Key made their living from various water sports, fishing, and other tours. We all lived and breathed the ocean.

  It wasn’t like we weren’t familiar with the dangers of the ocean. In fact, because we lived in harmony with it, we all had nothing but respect for the water. But that didn’t negate the very real fear I’d felt in my dream as I’d grasped a rope in my hands and held tight while another swell of water had crossed the bow of the ship. It had been a nasty, take-no-prisoners type of storm, and I shivered again as I relived the sight of men getting swept overboard, right before the crack of the mast breaking in half had cut through the storm and I’d met the captain’s eyes in horror.

  I would do well to remember the fear – and stay on edge – as I moved forward with this expedition, I thought. Though we were a long way out from hurricane season, there were other dangers that walked in this world.

  Like humans and their greed.

  I finished packing my dive gear and called to Hank. He danced around my feet as I opened his toy drawer. Yes, he has a toy drawer. I’d figured out long ago that rotating his toys out kept them fresh and exciting to him.

  “Ohhh, your snake!” I squealed, holding up a long green and yellow snake with a row of squeakers tucked inside. Hank whipped around in a circle, his little body quivering with excitement. I smiled as I launched the toy across the room and he skidded after it.

  The sound of delighted squeaking met me as I closed and locked my front door.

  Then I paused as I realized the little sign the Universe had just given me.

  The snake.

  “Cute, real cute.”

  Chapter Five

  “Iced coffee with white mocha for the lady,” Trace intoned from the front seat of his old Jeep, parked at the curb in front of my townhouse.

  I lived at the end of a dead-end street where a row of townhouses squashed together, all painted different bright colors. I loved my little secret slice of paradise –my backyard opened up to a small hidden beach. I’m telling you – if you can find waterfront property in the Keys you can afford, snatch it up. I’d had a construction crew come in to add some sand and level out some of the more rocky areas, and Hank and I were able to wade into the water and play. It was a perfect spot
for me and I couldn’t be happier that I’d found it.

  “Just what I needed. I’ve only had one hit of coffee so far this morning,” I said, swinging my dive gear into the back of Jeep before coming around to slide into the passenger seat.

  “I know what you like,” Trace said, deliberately looking up at me from under heavy eyelids, a smirk on his face. It was his patented flirting look and I’d see more than one girl – far weaker than I, of course – fall for it.

  “Well, thank goodness someone does,” I breathed back, pushing my cleavage together and batting my eyes at him.

  Trace barked out a laugh and pulled the Jeep from the curb.

  “Fighting fire with fire, I see,” he smiled over at me, our friendly balance restored.

  “I’m a fighter, as you know,” I pointed out, taking a sip of the delicious concoction.

  “Which is why you’re perfect for this expedition,” Trace said.

  “Well, I certainly hope I won’t have to fight anyone or anything,” I said, turning to look at him. His eyes were highlighted in the glow from the dashboard, the early dawn at its darkest.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Trace said, but his tone sounded forced.

  “Trace, did you research this? Not one expedition that has tried to take El Serpiente has survived. I don’t like it.”

  There, I’d voiced my fears.

  “Well, luckily we’ve got a lot more technology on our side now. I don’t think there’s been an expedition on this particular ship since it was lost. A lot has changed in three hundred years. We have sonar, radar, cell phones, solid diving gear, and a good boat. I’m confident things will be different this time.”

  I held onto those words as we drew closer to the hotel.