“It’s also his son’s business,” Rafe observed dryly, but his mother only waved a hand.
“And you’re handling it, aren’t you? No need to get your father involved.”
Which was her way of saying that she knew Eduardo wouldn’t approve, and so she wanted Rafe to keep his mouth shut. Fine. For now, he’d go along with her wishes, mainly because he didn’t see what his father could really do to help.
“Got it.”
She shot Rafe a suspicious look, but when he didn’t say anything else, she seemed satisfied that he would keep quiet for now.
“I need to meet with Yvonne, and then Marco,” she said. “Do try to stay out of trouble, Rafe.”
Without waiting for a reply, she sailed down the hallway and out the front door.
Bitch, he thought, but the sentiment was a half-hearted one, something he’d thought about his mother far too many times before. His opinion of her wouldn’t change anything; it never had.
He was just about to head upstairs and get out of those damned tails when his phone, which he’d left sitting on the mantel the night before, buzzed. For a second he thought about ignoring it in case that was Genoveva, calling about something she’d forgotten. But then Rafe realized the call could be from Daniel, and he hurried over to pick up the phone.
To his disappointment, the number displayed on the screen was his sister’s. However, he’d been wondering what she was up to this morning.
No preamble, only, “Is she gone?”
“I see you knew Mother was coming over here this morning.”
“Yes, and I tried to talk her out of it. Of course she didn’t listen. Is the coast clear?”
“She left a minute ago.”
“Good. I’m coming over.”
Rafe didn’t tell her not to. If nothing else, he could use the moral support right now. “Give me a couple of minutes — I need to get out of these tails.”
A pause, and then Cat said, “I can’t believe you went along with that stupid plan. It’s cruel. Miranda’s parents deserve to know the truth.”
“If this drags on too long, I’ll be the first to tell them what really happened. But for right now, it might not be a bad idea to keep them in the dark. Just until we can find Miranda.”
Cat was silent. At last she let out a breath and said, “I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but desperate times and all that. Anyway, I’ll see you in a few.”
“Okay.”
She hung up, and he took the phone with him as he went upstairs to get out of the tailcoat and tuxedo pants, and into an infinitely more comfortable pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Shoes, too, because although he preferred to go barefoot in the house no matter what the season, he didn’t know what the day might hold, and it was better to be prepared.
When he was done, he headed back downstairs, phone in his jeans pocket in case Daniel should call. Not a moment too soon, because he’d just begun to take his coffee mug back into the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Cat, of course. She must have washed her hair, because the long, night-black strands now hung straight as they usually did, all the intricate curls of her wedding coiffure from the day before long gone. “What a morning,” she groaned as she stepped inside.
“That bad? I still have some coffee, if you need it.”
“No, I’m good. I already had two cups. If I have any more, I’m going to be bouncing off the walls.”
She moved past him and into the living room, and so he followed her. Ignoring the couch, she went to the window and looked out at the street.
“You expecting someone?” Rafe asked, half amused despite the situation.
“No, but I’m kind of surprised that half the clan isn’t camped out on your doorstep this morning, wanting explanations.”
He reflected that sometimes his mother could be useful, especially when it came to putting the fear of God in people. “I’m sure Genoveva told them to stay away and leave me alone.”
“You’re probably right.” Cat went over to one of the couches and sat down. Like him, she’d dressed casually today, in faded jeans and a dark shirt under a suede jacket. “My phone started going crazy at around eight-thirty, so I turned it off. I don’t know what the hell people expect me to do — I’m just an innocent bystander in all this.”
“Yes, but you’re my sister, so they figure you must have inside information.” Although he didn’t really feel like sitting, was way too full of nervous energy and caffeine, he forced himself to take a seat on the sofa opposite Cat’s.
“Right. I don’t know anything.” She paused there for a moment, looking at him with an arched eyebrow. “Do you?”
“No.” That was the worst of it — Miranda had been gone overnight now, and he had absolutely no idea what was going on with her or where she was. He was doing his best to remain calm because staying in a perpetual state of agitation wouldn’t help the situation at all, but underneath his outward coolness, he could feel his stomach roiling, could feel the tension building up in his neck. “All I know is that something very strange is going on. Something dark.”
“Like the spell that was apparently cast on you.”
“Exactly.” Rafe still hated the thought that he’d been so vulnerable, but damn it, the last thing he’d expected was someone to put the whammy on him. “Last night I had a weird experience.”
“Another one?”
He ignored his sister’s arched eyebrow and said, “Yeah, another one. I kept getting this feeling I should go downtown, so I did. And that was where I sensed more of that darkness, of something evil. I followed it to a flat above the wine-tasting room across from the parking structure.”
Now Cat looked pale, the faint teasing expression she’d worn a moment earlier gone. “Why there?”
“I don’t know.” He flattened his hands against the knees of his jeans, once more overcome by the sensation that he was missing something big, although he couldn’t begin to say what the hell it was. “The place is an Airbnb, I guess — I ran into the owner while I was snooping around. She gave me the name of the person who’d rented it out last, so I passed it on to Daniel.”
“Smart,” Cat observed. “I’m sure he’ll be able to come up with something.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I had to start somewhere. Of course, Genoveva doesn’t approve.”
His sister shrugged. “Why does that not surprise me? I think she hates the idea of anyone in the clan proving that life goes on after divorce, so it drives her nuts that Daniel is successful. But whatever. I’m just glad you found something that was worth following up on.”
“I hope it’s worth it,” Rafe said grimly. “Right now, I honestly don’t know. Genoveva thinks I’m wasting my time, so she’s consulting with Marco again.”
“Because that was so successful the first time.”
“Well, we both know that, but I guess she needs to see for herself. Which is fine, since for now it keeps her out of my hair.” He pushed himself up off the couch and went over to the window, more to work off some nervous energy than because he expected to see anyone outside. The street remained empty, except for one of his civilian neighbors, who was walking by with her big golden retriever Nellie. “Did you have to run the gauntlet to get out of the house?”
“Not really. I guess no one was quite bold enough to camp out on our doorstep, which was why my phone wouldn’t shut up.”
Rafe nodded. It made sense. If Genoveva had warned everyone not to bother him, then she definitely would have done the same for her own property. “Did you check the casita?”
Cat looked at him blankly. “No, I didn’t. I mean, I looked in late last night after I got home, thinking I’d better feed that cat Miranda sort of adopted. But as soon as I opened the door, it bolted. I haven’t seen it since.”
Was that strange behavior for a cat? Since his mother had never allowed them to have pets growing up — and he hadn’t bothered to adopt a cat or dog once he was living on his own �
� he really couldn’t say. “Well, it sounded as if it might have been on the street before it wandered in, so I guess it should be able to manage on its own. Maybe it was just having a cat vacation and decided to go back home. We’ve got more important things to worry about right now.”
“Should we check the casita again?” Cat inquired. “I mean, I can’t imagine Miranda went back there — and even if she did, she would have let me know, wouldn’t she?”
“You’d think, but this whole situation is so crazy, I don’t even know what to say.” Since almost anything sounded better than sitting around the house and stewing in his own juices, Rafe thought they might as well go take a quick look at the casita. Besides, if their parents were meeting with Marco, that meant they’d both be safely occupied for a while. Genoveva hadn’t specified exactly where that meeting was supposed to take place, but Rafe guessed it was probably going to be at the La Fonda, since Marco was staying there. “Let’s go. It’s not as if I have anything else I can be doing right now. I have to wait for Daniel to get back to me, and I already cleared my schedule for the week because I thought I was going to be in Taos on my honeymoon.”
“I’m sorry, Rafe,” Cat said, and she did look truly sorry, her features taut with worry.
“It’s all right.” Well, actually, it wasn’t, but the words were an automatic defense, a way to make her think he wasn’t quite as upset as he knew he truly was. “Anyway, it’s something to do. Maybe we can grab something to eat afterward.”
“Sounds good. I had some coffee, but I just couldn’t force anything else down my throat. But not eating isn’t going to help, either.”
No, it wasn’t. He murmured his agreement, and they both headed for the front door, by unspoken arrangement going outside so they could take Cat’s Mercedes SUV rather than his Jeep.
She climbed in behind the wheel, and he got in the passenger seat. A few minutes later, she was pulling into the driveway of the house where he’d grown up, although she didn’t bother to park the vehicle in the garage. Instead, she parked where she’d stopped, and they both got out and headed for the side gate that would lead them onto the property.
All was quiet and still, although Rafe thought he could hear someone raking leaves in one of the yards that bordered the house. The sharp, metallic scraping noise made him want to wince, although he ignored it as best he could as he strode along the path that led to the casita. Once there, he paused at the front door, Cat a foot or so behind him, and knocked on the door.
“Miranda? Are you in there?”
Only silence met his query, and Rafe sent a glance over his shoulder at his sister. Maybe Miranda wasn’t answering because she was still furious with him…and he couldn’t really blame her for that.
Nodding in understanding, she stepped forward and knocked as well. “Miranda, it’s Cat. We just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
No response. The two of them stood on the step and looked at each other.
“Go in,” Cat said in an undertone. “I really don’t think she’s here.”
He had that same feeling as well. Holding back a sigh, he laid his hand on the doorknob and turned it, then opened the door.
Nothing appeared to be any different from the last time he’d been here. The vase of roses he’d sent as an apology after his and Miranda’s first quarrel still sat on the little table by the window. The only thing that looked out of place was a bowl of water on the floor in the kitchen, presumably put there for the cat.
Which had taken a powder, so there was no need to leave the bowl on the floor. Rafe bent and picked it up, then set it on the tiled counter.
“Miranda!” he called out, but softly. He could already tell from the waiting stillness that no one was here. Besides, the casita wasn’t all that big. It would be hard to hide in a place this small.
Cat moved past him and went down the short hallway, headed for the bedroom. A brief silence, and then she said, “Rafe? I think you’d better come in here.”
“What is it?” he asked, blood already going cold, horrible images of a murdered Miranda lying on her bed flitting through his mind.
“Just come here.”
He hurried back to the bedroom, where he found his sister standing in front of the open closet and frowning. “What is it?”
“Look,” she replied, pointing at the closet.
Staring at it didn’t seem to help. All he saw was the door to the small walk-in closet standing open, the rod bare except for a few unused hangers.
“So?” he asked. “Miranda packed for our trip to Taos. You brought her stuff over to my house yesterday, remember?”
“Oh, right, I forgot,” Cat said, looking crestfallen. But then she lifted an eyebrow at him. “I left her bags right inside your front door because I was in a hurry, but I didn’t see them today. Did you move them into your car?”
“No.” He had the vaguest of vague recollections about noticing the two weekender bags sitting in his foyer when he came home yesterday, but he couldn’t even say for sure whether that was a true memory, or whether he just thought he’d seen them.
“Let me check something.” Cat left the bedroom and went into the bathroom, where Rafe heard her opening and shutting several drawers. Then she returned to where he was waiting, her expression one of undiluted worry. “Nope, nothing here, either.”
“Which there wouldn’t be, if she packed it for the trip.” He pushed a hand through his hair, annoyed that he couldn’t seem to remember whether Miranda’s luggage actually had been at the house this morning. “I guess we need to go back to my place and look. I can’t believe I didn’t notice whether her stuff was still sitting in the entry.”
“Well, you had a lot on your mind.”
True, but he wasn’t used to experiencing that kind of brain fade. Then again, he also wasn’t used to having his mind taken over by some kind of dark spell that made him spew hateful words to the woman he was supposed to marry.
Rafe looked around the bedroom again. The bed was made, and everything seemed to be in its proper place. It looked as if no one had stayed here in the recent past.
But there was someone, he thought fiercely. She was here, even if we don’t know where the hell she is now.
He was just about to tell Cat that they might as well go when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After pulling it out, he saw it was his mother calling. So tempting to ignore the call…but what if Marco really had seen something, had been successful this time in locating Miranda even though his first attempt had been a bust?
“Hi, Genoveva,” he said after running his thumb over the biometric reader.
Usually, she would have made a huff of annoyance at her son calling her by her first name. Now, though, she only said, her voice taut and brittle, “I need you to come to the hospital. Marco’s collapsed.”
5
Permissions
Miranda
“How far is Española from here?” I asked Simon as he walked with me out to the garage.
“About a half hour,” he replied. It was warmer today, almost spring-like after the chill of the week before, despite the gold-leafed trees that surrounded us. The sleeves of his knit shirt were pushed up almost to his elbows, and I was sorely tempted to take off my jacket.
Still, I figured I’d better wait and see what the temperature was like in Española.
After a good bit of tossing and turning, I’d finally gotten a decent seven or so hours of sleep. It was enough to make me feel refreshed this morning — or maybe my mood had been improved by the luxurious shower I’d taken. I may not have been at the Monte Sagrado resort with Rafe, but it sure felt as though I had my own spa right here, thanks to the enormous marble bathroom that was attached to my bedroom.
I’d eaten breakfast alone, which felt a little weird, but again, I figured Simon was only doing his best to give me some space. The refrigerator and pantry had been well stocked with just about anything I might need, and so I’d indulged myself with an English muffin and delicio
us plum jam, and some great coffee. However, I wasn’t sure I wanted all my mornings to be quite this solitary. Even though Simon was trying to be solicitous of my feelings, I would have rather had his company while I ate.
“You know, you could have come over for breakfast,” I remarked, standing off to one side as he entered the security code for the garage door.
“I didn’t want to seem like I was intruding.” He went to the driver-side door of the BMW and got in.
After I’d climbed in on my own side of the vehicle, I responded, “I get it. But it seems sort of silly for us to have separate breakfasts when we’re living on the same property. I know I wasted coffee because I couldn’t figure out how to have that enormous coffeemaker brew just a single cup.”
He smiled and shook his head, then backed the SUV out of the garage. “Well, we don’t want to be wasteful. So sure — I’ll come to the big house for breakfast. Do you want to set a time, or should I text you?”
Since we were on our way to get me a new phone, texting would be simple enough. Then again, I thought it might be better to have a set schedule. That might make it easier to stick to a routine when it came to my magical training.
“Let’s just set a time,” I said. “Does eight o’clock work, or is that too early?”
“Eight is fine. I tend to get up early anyway.”
I did, too. I wasn’t sure if that made me a morning person, because I wasn’t always overjoyed to be up at that hour of the day, but I generally got out of bed before seven. Even with having to make sure I was showered and more or less put together — I might not be thinking romantically of Simon yet, but that didn’t mean I intended to let him see me with no makeup and in the oversized T-shirt I usually slept in — eight o’clock in the morning would work well enough. And that should give us plenty of time to practice magic.
“Good. Then let’s plan for that.”
“Sounds good.”
We both were silent then, mostly because my attention was drawn to the changing landscape outside the car windows. In Tesuque, I felt sheltered, almost closed in, thanks to the hills on either side and the tall trees everywhere. Once we were back out to the highway, though, we were in almost a different world, with rugged mesas and dry, rocky land all around. As we headed into Española, though, the terrain changed again — it still rose and fell, but parts of it were quite flat, too.
Darker Paths (The Witches of Canyon Road Book 2) Page 6