Cazadora

by Romina Garber

  Before I can say a word, Yamila slaps the bracelets on my wrists.

  My body goes cold.

  I can’t feel my power. I can’t transform. I can’t access any kind of strength at all. It’s a sickly sensation, a whole-bodied achiness, and I feel smaller than ever before.

  “Manuela Azul,” says Yamila, a warmth in her voice like she’s relishing every word. “Per the laws of the tribunal, you are under arrest and subject to stand trial in Lunaris.”

  PHASE IV

  29

  The easiest way to describe it is a bronze key. Except it’s disassembled into seven pieces, and Yamila clicks them all into place as though she could do it blindfolded. She looks like a soldier assembling her weapon.

  As soon as she got me in custody, she told Cata to take off. When my cousin tried to hug me, Yamila burned her hand in warning.

  “It’s okay,” I said before Cata could do anything stupid. “Go. I love you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and I was taken aback too. I guess saying it to Tiago made it easier to say at all.

  “I love you too.” Her voice was hushed and thin, not like we were declaring our affection, but more like we were saying goodbye.

  Then Yamila gripped my arm and led me across the grass. I was so weak, I couldn’t even shake her off. There’s an elevator in the tree, like in Rívoli, and we descended to the ninth floor.

  Yamila stabs the key-like bronze thing into the bark, and a doorway appears. She twists it open and shoves me inside.

  The condo is small, like Perla’s. We’re in a living room with a kitchen attached, and lying on the gray couch is Yamila’s brother.

  Nacho snaps upright.

  “Why is she here?”

  “If I take her in, she’s out of our custody.”

  He frowns. “Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want everyone to know you caught her? Isn’t that what you’re after—the credit, the glory, the ego stroke?”

  “Shut up.” She rolls her eyes, but Nacho is right. Why is she holding me here?

  “Call him,” she says.

  He shrugs and pulls out a caracola. “Who are you calling?” I ask.

  Yamila pushes down on my shoulder, and I collapse to the floor. I try getting back up, but it’s like my muscles can’t hold me.

  “We got her,” says Nacho. Then he drops the conch shell and activates the large pantaguas on the wall.

  “I need a shower,” says Yamila, leaving me on the floor as she walks deeper into the space. “Watch her.”

  Nacho pointedly raises the volume of the show on the screen, but his gaze falls on me. The look that crosses his features makes my muscles tauten with readiness. Fight or flight.

  Leaving the volume high, he reaches down and lifts me in his arms. I try pushing against him, but it’s like trying to move a wall. His hands are rough as he carries me into the nearest room and drops me on the bed. Then he shuts the door.

  Everything in me goes cold as he perches beside me, the burl and bulk of his weaponlike body weighing down the mattress.

  “I’ve worked it out,” he says, casually resting a hand on my ribcage. “You must’ve crawled into my truck when I was staking you out. My sister is so damn secretive that I didn’t know you existed. So you outplayed me.”

  He bares his teeth in a predatory smile, and his fingers dig in, like he’s trying to hook them into the rungs of my ribs. “Problem is, if anyone finds out, I’m fucked. So what do we do?”

  “Polish your resume?”

  His smile widens, and I regret my remark. “I’m guessing that’s a human joke. Still, I’m glad you have a sense of humor. You’re going to need it.”

  I swallow.

  “You’re already facing the death penalty, but it’d be such a waste if others had to die with you. I’ll make you a one-time offer that expires as soon as I stand up: Keep my name out of your mouth, and I won’t kill the one person you left unguarded.”

  My mind explodes with faces. Ma is with Gael, and my friends can protect one another. “What do you—”

  Person.

  He didn’t say Septimus.

  My whole being seems to shrivel as his meaning settles on me.

  “Took you a minute, but you got there,” he growls, leaning in so that I can smell his rank breath. “El Retiro apartment 3E. I have her scent. I’ll track her down wherever she goes. My sister already knocked her out by accident when she broke in to search for Fierro. Idiot should’ve trusted me to do it. What do you think would happen if your abuelita ran into a big bad wolf?”

  I can’t think through what he’s saying. Or I’ll have to face the fact that I haven’t looked out for Perla or Julieta or any of the women from the clinic. I abandoned them.

  “Do we understand each other?”

  I just want his hand off my chest and his breath off my face. “Fine. But if you ever—”

  “Save your threats. Just honor your word.” His lips linger so close, they’re almost on mine. “Don’t know why you’re shrinking from me. Not like anyone will ever touch you again.”

  Footsteps echo outside, and Nacho is through the door before my next heartbeat. I exhale and shut my eyes in relief.

  “Where is she?”

  Nacho didn’t close the door, so even without access to my abilities, I can hear them. “Tossed her in the room so we wouldn’t have to look at her.”

  “Why that room?”

  “What’s it matter?”

  “I sleep there!”

  I open my eyes and scan the space. It’s small, with just a bed, closet, armchair, and a storage shelf. There’s a framed image of a family—a pair of good-looking parents and two young kids, a boy and a girl. Yamila has wild auburn hair and fiery eyes. She can’t be more than five or six.

  Standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder is the fallen Cazador. They both look just as they did in the footage from el Hongo. A second picture sits adjacent to this one. It’s two young Cazadores receiving an official award for something. It looks like they’re partners.

  One is Yamila’s father.

  The other is mine.

  Current-day Yamila strides inside. As she shuts the door behind her, my skin feels scratchy with nerves.

  I should be in the custody of the Cazadores by now, not in hiding again. Why did she bring me here? Does she want to wait until Lunaris so reporters can capture her carting me through the Citadel like a trophy kill?

  She settles into the armchair. “Your mom is missing,” she says, watching me closely for a reaction.

  I try my best to keep my face impassive as I hold up my cuffed wrists. “Why haven’t you taken me in yet?”

  “Because I’m not after you,” she says, and I let my hands fall.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want your father. Fierro.”

  I stare at her, trying and failing to remain aloof. “Well, I can’t help you.”

  But even as I say the words, there’s a triumph in her eyes, like she’s reading my lies. I wish I was as quick as Cata at spinning a yarn, but all I feel right now is tongue-tied.

  “Tell me who he is.”

  A fiery hunger burns through her guard, making Yamila look younger. Like the little girl in the picture. Just another casualty from one of the many families my father ruined.

  This is why she’s been coming after me so hard. She wants to avenge her dad’s death. It’s not me she’s obsessed with—it’s Fierro.

  A voice greets Nacho, and Yamila springs to her feet.

  Despite all she’s done, there’s something almost innocent about her expectant expression as she stares at the door. When it swings open, a pair of coral eyes meets mine.

  My father stares at me in bewilderment, a sweaty sheen laminating his light skin.

  “Speechless, huh?” says Nacho.

  “What’s going on?” asks Gael, turning to Yamila.

  Whatever her expectation, Gael’s reaction falls short. “I did it, Tío. I caught her.”

 
; “But—how?”

  “Your niece panicked. Because of what I—what happened.” No matter how much bravado she puts on, Yamila’s slipup betrays the remorse she feels over Zaybet’s death.

  Given what I now know about her father, I can understand. He was killed in the line of duty, and instead of avenging him, she caused another innocent’s death.

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  The care in Gael’s voice is impossible to miss. Or fake.

  I stare as he edges closer to Yamila and rests a hand on her shoulder, tipping his head down to look at her. “I failed her too. We all did. You don’t carry this guilt alone.”

  Now I understand what Cata feels when Jazmín praises Yamila. I’m so jealous that if these cuffs weren’t on me, I would be ripping out of my skin.

  “I thought you’d be proud I captured her.”

  “I am.” He lets his hand fall, like he’s just remembered I’m here. “But why is she here? Why haven’t you brought her in?”

  “You’re going to like this,” says Yamila with a growing grin. Nacho moves in to listen, as if she hasn’t clued him in either. “We’re going to use her to find Fierro.”

  “How?” asks Gael.

  “Either she tells us where he is,” says Yamila, her voice growing colder, “or we dangle her as bait.”

  Gael and I lock eyes, and I have to look away because a ball of panic is rising up my throat.

  “If she knew where he was or how to reach him, she would be with him,” Gael points out.

  “He can’t do that,” says Yamila, like she’s anticipated this argument. “I think he’s protecting her mom.”

  Gael’s poker face is impenetrable. “How will you bait him without alerting the Cazadores that she’s in custody?”

  “I already sent an anonymous tip to the media. Sources say the hybrid is in custody in Belgrano and will be tried under the full moon. He’ll know it’s true when he can’t reach her the usual way. Then we’ll wait for him to attempt a rescue. I have a brigade of Cazadores waiting to jump him when he shows.”

  “Assuming he’s even still around,” mumbles Nacho. “Or that this is even his kid.”

  “I’m telling you he rescued her mom,” she says, rounding on him. “There’s no one else who could have pulled that off.”

  Gael stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Sounds like you’ve been very thorough. Not sure how I can help.”

  “Everything I’ve learned is from you. I thought you would…” She seems at a loss for words. “I thought you’d be excited. We’re close to catching the wolf responsible for ruining our lives and destroying our families! Look what he’s done to you—you never married or moved on. He broke you. And I understand, Tío,” she says, gentler than I thought she could be, “because he broke me too.”

  Gael’s gaze is lined with guilt, so much that it’s brimming over the coral and threatening to spill out of him. How he’s been able to swallow it for so many years of looking out for Yamila and her brother, I have no idea.

  He presses his lips together and nods. “You’re right, Yami.”

  He doesn’t seem able to say more, and Yamila takes his arm. “Let’s eat something. You look a little pale.”

  But he’s staring at me, unwilling to move. “Have you fed her?”

  “Do I have to?”

  Gael casts Yamila a stern-but-indulgent look and pats her arm as they leave the room. “Why don’t I do it, while you update the troops?”

  The door swings almost shut, leaving a sliver of space for their voices to float through. “Don’t forget your training,” says Gael. “That door should stay shut at all times, and we only speak in whispers.”

  “What can she possibly do at this point?”

  “Any information in a prisoner’s hands—”

  “Can be used against you,” says Yamila, finishing Gael’s sentence like she’s heard it a million times before. Then the door clicks closed.

  Moments later, it opens again. Gael walks through with a plate of empanadas, shutting the door behind him. His expression is so drawn now that I’m startled by the effort it must have taken him to act normal in front of the others.

  He sets the food on the bed next to me and takes my hands in his. Are you okay? he mouths, unable to give voice to the words because Nacho would hear.

  Mom? I mouth back.

  Just left her. She’s safe. He starts rubbing my wrists, where the cuffs are binding me, and I feel a warm energy course through me. Did Cata really—

  I shake my head and mouth, I asked her.

  His fingers freeze, and the edges of his face fall. He looks like a portrait of heartbreak.

  Tears burn my eyes as I answer his unasked question.

  I can’t live like this.

  Everyone else in my life would demand a longer explanation. But not Fierro.

  Run away with your mother and me.

  I throw my arms in the air and emphatically mouth, The full moon is in a few hours—

  I have Anestesia. He’s so excited that he almost whispers the word. Two injections. Your mom can administer them.

  It’s still so tempting to run away with my parents. To be far from any government’s reach. To live with my family.

  But that road doesn’t lead to a future with Tiago and Cata and Saysa and a family of my own. It leads back to El Retiro, and a life I’ve lived before.

  What if they rule against you? he urges, reading the answer on my face.

  What if they don’t?

  His hands clasp mine as panic explodes in his expression, and he’s half-mouthing, half-whispering, “Cariño, your mom told me you’re a big reader, but this isn’t one of your storybooks. The tribunal is merciless. Please. We were kept from each other your whole life. We only just met. I can’t—I won’t lose you, Manu.”

  Tears bullet down his face, and his voice breaks through. “Please. Give me a chance to be your dad—”

  “Shhh.” I shake my head so he’ll stop because now I’m crying too. Nacho threatened Perla, I mouth, needing to change the subject as urgently as I need to pass on this warning. She needs protection.

  Gael nods in assent, but his eyes look explosive. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he breathes, and the way he says it sounds like there’s something else hiding behind the promise.

  A secret.

  “Sos mi vida,” he murmurs, his thumbs wiping away my tears. You’re my life. “I love you.”

  Then he cradles me to his chest, like I’ve never been held before. I feel his lips on my head as he presses a hard kiss onto my hair, and my muscles unclench, a lifelong knot in me loosening, like I’ve found the safe harbor I used to daydream about with every Miami sunrise. We stay together for a timeless moment, and it feels like both the longest and shortest embrace of my life.

  When he pulls away, he nudges the plate of empanadas toward me. Then he snaps to his feet, drying his face on his sleeve, and takes a few breaths until the shininess in his eyes dullens.

  Before he walks out, my father is gone.

  * * *

  The pain in my uterus tells me the full moon is imminent. Still, Yamila stations us in a corner of the street, in the shadow of a purple tree, with Cazadores hidden all over.

  She’s so eager that the air tastes singed.

  Of course, no suspect shows up, since Fierro is embedded in her own party. However, hundreds of other Septimus come out to witness my perp walk to the portal.

  It’s soon so packed on the streets of Belgrano that Yamila’s hidden Cazadores have to come forward to form a protective perimeter. Gael and Nacho flank me, and after the emotional moment we shared back at the safe space, my father has barely acknowledged me.

  I know it’s just an act, but even if some small part of him is really pulling away, I couldn’t blame him. It’s not like we’ve known each other long. And I saw it in his eyes—he doesn’t hold any hope for me in the legal route.

  I can hardly stand to think about what happens to him and Tiago
and Saysa and Cata and above all Ma if—

  But I can’t go there.

  My uterus gives another painful twist, and I notice a spasm in Gael’s neck and a shiver in Nacho’s leg.

  “He’s not coming, Yami,” says Nacho for the seventh time. “I told you you’re chasing a ghost. He’s gone!”

  “But then who broke out—”

  “Her mother? I don’t know, but you’re reading too much into it. Just because you got one conspiracy right doesn’t mean every far-fetched idea you have is true! Right, Tío? Tell her!”

  Yamila looks at Gael, and he studies her like a parent putting off bad news. Her shoulders fall before his words do.

  “I think whatever you do, your father would be proud.”

  Her eyes sparkle, and even Nacho looks speechless. Yamila straightens her spine and steps forward.

  “Let’s go.”

  We march onto the nearest mushroom patch, and we’re sucked underground. Only this time, el Hongo’s white webbed walls lead us down a passage.

  So we walk until the tunnel ends …

  Aboveground, facing the ivy-covered wall of the Citadel.

  30

  It’s not day or night in Lunaris.

  Time is suspended somewhere in between.

  The horizon is a gradient of pinks, ranging from ballet slipper to hot magenta. Puffy green clouds float through the air, like they’re packed with chlorophyll instead of water, and golden stars twinkle through the atmosphere, like sun droplets. Yet all of this is just a backdrop for the moon.

  Its pale glow has an almost yellow tinge, like a light bulb, and there’s a shadow falling across it that looks like a wolf’s profile.

  La lobi-luna.

  It’s a moon that arises only when blood might be spilt.

  I don’t know how I know that. It must be what Saysa meant about information traveling through the air in Lunaris.

  My skin crawls with dread as I turn to see not white mist behind me, but flanks of Cazadores. Hundreds of them, standing ramrod straight, staring from me to Yamila and back to me. Her complexion is a shade smugger as she steps ahead of us, making it clear who’s leading this pack.

  I’m a head taller than her here, but Nacho and Gael are still bigger than me. I try reaching out to my father with my mind. Can you hear me?