Graciela didn’t say a word, possibly too unsure of herself to notice the joke.
“It’s all right, they’re really not that different, animals and humans.”
“It just seems impossible. Most people spend years learning about one or the other, never both. I’m worried I won’t be of much use for a long while.”
“Nonsense!” Beside her, Santiago awakened with vigor, speaking for the first time since Mara had left them. He wrapped her under his arm. “You’re a nurse. That’s already helpful. And Dr. Gallagher—Darach, whatever—he’s a blood guide, so there’s not much he can’t do. You’re an extra set of hands, just in case.”
She seemed to lighten at the sound of that. Sean was honestly taken aback by Santiago’s excitement about anyone with an Awakened power. Ever since they’d met, Santiago’s disdain for the Awakened had been more than apparent. But Sean couldn’t help but wonder if some of that was wearing off, the more Awakened he was coming to know.
“Besides,” Santiago added. “If you made an error, I’m sure he could fix it before you’d accidentally killed anyone.”
Graciela’s mouth fell agape, “That’s not funny!” She shoved her brother aside, a smile sneaking from the corner of her lips. “No soup for you when it’s ready.”
Santiago’s joy snuffed. “Aw, come on.”
Graciela, still smiling, poked her tongue out in his general direction.
The sweet moment soured in Sean’s gut. Graciela and Santiago seemed to have about the same age gap as he did with Samson, but in the opposite direction. There was a time, back when his brother was alive, when they too would goof around. Back then, it was always Samson, the older of the two, who couldn’t take a joke though, and it was always left to Sean to try and smooth things over between the two of them. Likely something Graciela could relate to.
“Speaking of soup,” Sean said to get thoughts of his brother to dissipate. “It’s probably close to being ready.”
With refreshing enthusiasm, Graciela drummed her hands together. She was first in line for a bowl, which Sean graciously poured.
The peppers were strongest of all, the scent of them puffing into his nostrils as he poured a scoop into the bowl Graciela extended. He inhaled again to truly appreciate it.
Something new stopped him, mid-pour. A sweetness was present like nothing he’d ever smelled before, laced with the aromas of autumn spices.
“Is everything all right?” Graciela asked.
Something was out of place. “There’s not cinnamon in this soup, is there?”
“Cinnamon?” Graciela’s nose scrunched. “No, cinnamon would ruin it.”
Warily, he allowed himself to smile it off. “Yeah, it really would. My bad. I thought I smelled some for a second.” His gaze fell back to the soup and then to the rest of Hope. It was possible someone somewhere else was baking a pie or something. Maybe that’s what he was picking up on.
“I think you need to get this thing checked.” As Graciela spoke, she padded her finger onto the round tip of Sean’s nose.
The scent ignited. Stronger could he smell the spices, not only cinnamon but now nutmeg and apples as well. There was also something darker, more disturbing, like the undertones of a foggy night in the woods.
It was in her blood.
To a blood guide, everyone had their own unique aroma, dependent on their blood. Each Awakened type had a distinct scent as well: blood guides emitted the scent of heated metal, shadows wreaked of sauerkraut, charmers smelled like caramel and banana sundaes.
Generally speaking though, Unawakened tended to smell the way old bubblegum tasted.
Cinnamon and apples was not the way an Unawakened smelled. And it wasn’t the way Graciela had smelled when he’d carried her to the utorian or back to Hope.
Something was different.
“Have you been noticing anything…new? Anything out of the ordinary?”
Her face twisted again. “New? I don’t know this place well enough to know if anything is out of the ordinary. Like what?”
With vigor, he shook his head. “I don’t mean with the community. I mean with you.” He noted the concern in her expression, and the threat that Santiago was perceiving as he stood from his seat and strode over to the both of them. “I just mean, you went through a lot, and it seems like you’ve made a full recovery, but sometimes, things change. I was just wondering if you’ve noticed anything different.”
Graciela and her brother exchanged a look.
“It could be anything,” Sean continued. “Like a physical feeling or an emotional response. Do you feel different? Does your head feel foggy? Has your appetite changed? Has anything strange happened around—” He stopped, realizing he wasn’t giving her time to respond.
“You mean other than being deathly ill for what felt like an eternity? I don’t think so. It’s taken some time to feel one hundred percent again, but I think I’m finally feeling like my old self.”
But she wasn’t like her old self. Graciela’s new scent was unmatchable to any other Unawakened he’d ever smelled, and he wasn’t sure why. He believed her when she said that she felt the same. He hadn’t witnessed anything new either, and neither had anyone else, at least not that they’d reported.
Suddenly he found himself worrying that it might be something more, maybe a poison, an illness, something that could be life threatening that they hadn’t yet encountered.
Despite himself, he nodded, and the siblings each grabbed a bowl of soup.
Before Graciela returned to her seat, she turned back to Sean. He hadn’t realized how close she was to him until their eyes locked. “You know,” she started. “There is a small speck of green in your right eye. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.”
Sean blinked furiously and rubbed his eye while Graciela and her brother indulged in some soup, but all he could think about was cinnamon.
He needed to speak with Darach, Mara, or even Amal. Immediately. If anyone could confirm his suspicions or convince him he was being ridiculous, it would be one of them.
“Where’s your ulipsi?” Almost on cue, Mara startled them all, renewed composure tightening the muscles of her face.
Sean debated on whether he should ask for her opinion on the matter in front of Graciela and her brother, but the way Santiago kept peering at him out of the corner of his eye made him think better of it. Sean was probably being overly paranoid anyway. It could wait until they had some privacy during the Tri-Lunar Festival gathering.
When Mara’s words registered, he became the replica of a guilty child.
For a second, it seemed Mara was about to scold him like one, but instead her voice was calm. “Since you didn’t receive my message, don’t forget to show Graciela and Santiago their seats during the show. I’m going to check with the participants and make sure they’re prepared. See you there.”
Before anyone could protest or inquire or make amends, Mara jogged down the road to the north.
It was Santiago who turned and asked, “What did she mean about a show?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.” He coated his concerns with a general air of excitement and pride, but in all actuality, he couldn’t take his mind off the matter. Graciela’s scent had changed. It was unheard of, unless she was now Awakened, or something grimmer had happened to her and none of them knew it yet.
Sean couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with how they’d found her in the desert, sick and at the hands of the Sanguinatores. If they’d done something, anything to her… Sean’s blood boiled just at the speculation of it.
He had to shove the thoughts aside to meet the inquisitive eyes of the pair, still curious about the festival and show. “I’ll take you both there once we’ve finished eating.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Santiago
Belly stretched full and hunger no longer gnawing at his insides, Santiago had just one thing on his mind: the locket. After witnessing Mara’s near breakd
own earlier, he realized that the tiny trinket could bring her some peace of mind, even if it would complicate their already tumultuous relationship. The vintage necklace looked like something that could be a family heirloom. Or perhaps it was a gift from one of her sisters or her father. Whatever it was, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping it from her any longer.
In fact, he feared he had waited too long already. Postponing it any further would only make matters worse. It was likely she would already hate him for not bringing it to her sooner.
Adelaide and her blonde, freckled friend raced to their side as the three of them walked to the show. Out of the corner of his eye, he would’ve sworn the two of them were nothing more than an orange, autumn gust, but a double-take confirmed they were merely dressed to represent the Southeast quadrant. Adelaide practically dragged the poor child so he’d keep up.
“Can I sit with you guys at the festival?” she blurted loudly.
Although Sean gave his best attempts at dissuading her from sitting in another neighborhood’s section, ultimately her pout and red curls won him over.
“Yay! See, Caleb?” Adelaide said, turning to the young boy. “Now we don’t have to sit all by ourselves!”
The young child blushed and avoided eye contact.
Little did the bashful boy know that Graciela was a child’s best friend. Kind, playful, excitable. Sean too seemed to have a way with kids that put them at ease. Between the two of them, within mere seconds, they had the boy playing I’m-Gonna-Get-You, and they chased the two children the rest of the way to the show.
At the entrance, Santiago had to keep himself from gawking. It was a section of Hope he’d never seen before, and the whole thing made his heart skip a beat.
Bleachers encircled a large field-like opening constructed from an amalgam of materials: random bits of metal, previously crafted chairs or benches, basically anything they could get their hands on. Climbing the stands were vendors—people handing out dyed shirts and Hope’s version of candied apples, a slice of an apple dipped in a homemade caramel the cooks had prepared. And even though he was certain there weren’t any, he could almost smell the tostados that were typically present at these kinds of events back home.
From what Sean was telling him earlier, the entire place was large enough for each of Hope’s 746 members to sit comfortably for the event, and still there was space for when new members arrived. He was both surprised and impressed by the size. In every sense, it resembled a fútbol stadium, but on a smaller scale, like one amateurs would practice on. The field, the crowd, the excitement. It reminded him of his fútbol days. Melancholy tugged and scratched at his heart.
Had it not been for his knight in shining armor—Adelaide, who did not have a filter—he might’ve rapidly been sucked into the black depths of self-loathing. But, to Santiago’s amusement, Adelaide turned her listener abilities on Sean as he directed the group to the stands and said, “If you think her hair looks nice today, why don’t you just tell her?”
Every thought she had she seemed to immediately share. Normally, this was something that worried Santiago because he feared that she would one day blow his cover regarding his feelings for Mara. Today, however, it was a welcomed distraction.
Although Sean tried to wear a passive expression, Santiago could tell he sometimes wished she would keep her thoughts—their thoughts—to herself. Pretty much everyone did. Especially when she was eavesdropping on private and potentially embarrassing matters.
Graciela also seemed to flush at the comment.
Dutifully, Sean pointed them toward their section and rushed off to meet with Mara. Santiago made sure he paid attention to the direction he went, knowing that he too would need to find her.
Without peeling his eyes from Sean, Santiago declined his head toward Graciela, a wide grin planted dumbly on his mug. “Your face is red.”
From his peripherals, he watched his sister blush harder.
Once they found their seats, he excused himself for a bathroom break. None of them seemed to care as they were instead ogling over Caleb’s ability to speak to the various birds that hovered by them. Adelaide insisted that he help her in the barn tomorrow so that he could help her talk to Bessie.
Santiago’s feet carried him off to the right, retracing Sean’s path to a kind of backstage guard station of some kind, barely wide enough to fit a dozen people inside. He pressed his ear against the cold wood hinged at the doorway. There was no distinct noise, only the sounds of a bustling commotion beyond. With a slight shove, the room became alive before his eyes.
People scurried around each other, behind thin partitions and back across the room all while yelling to one another.
“Where are my handcuffs?”
“What should I do with my hair?”
“Can I get a fire temperal over here? One of the torches is out.”
To his left sat a girl in front of a vanity mirror. She applied what looked like a fifth layer of makeup onto her eyelids, followed by another dab of powder on her chin, cheeks, and forehead. Before, back when society still flourished, seeing faces plastered with foundation, hidden behind spider leg eyelashes and charcoal eye shadow was common. But now, seeing women with any makeup on at all struck him as odd and distasteful, a latching on to what was.
He reassured himself though that his hair gel was different.
“Has anyone seen Raul? We’re supposed to be performing together.”
A massive man emerged from the other end of the room, parting the crowd like a waterfall blasting between two meadows.
“Roider coming through. Make way.”
The Tri-Lunar Festival was no small feat! Santiago’s head swiveled from all the excitement. It was almost more tantalizing than the atmosphere outside. Men and women put on their extravagant costumes—although he wasn’t sure why they would need to wear them. Musk and sweat stung his nostrils. A girl half his height shoulder checked him as she murmured for him to move out of the middle of the room. He twisted back and forth trying to catch a glimpse of Mara, but there was too much going on.
Santiago inched his way through the chaos, trying to stay out of everyone’s way as best as he could. The people had become one vast, moving maze, and he wasn’t familiar with the path.
He closed his eyes instead.
Just like what he would do before a big game, he slowed the world down. Breathing in through his nose, he listened. Everything around him, all the commotion, the racket, slowly came to a halt. It was like standing ankle-deep in a lake of water: grounding and calm. He wiggled his toes inside his shoes, finding his inner peace.
“Sean, are you almost ready? You’re introducing the first event.”
He opened his eyes and whipped around to face the familiar voice. But although he recognized her face on sight, her outfit caused him to do a double-take to be certain. Instead of Mara’s usual warrior-trainer garb, a sleek, lavender dress now clung to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination.
A lump caught in Santiago’s throat. Never before had he seen someone look so elegant. He looked down at his tattered gym shorts and the tomato soup stain from earlier. Yep. She was way out of his league.
But there was no backing out now.
Hastily, Santiago stole a look at himself in a nearby mirror being occupied by a dozen other people fussing with outfits and makeup. He straightened the slightly crooked fauxhawk and, catching a glimpse of his wide, pitiful eyes before walking away from the mirror, he dared call her name.
“Mara,” he managed to fumble while trying to catch his breath.
The familiar expression of confusion surfaced as she noticed him from across the crowd. “What are you doing in here?”
He was now wondering the same thing. How would he even begin to explain what he was about to tell her? There was no way. He couldn’t. Mara was a woman of skepticism and facts; surely, she would be too wrapped up in the details to even begin to believe him. Then again, he would have the locket for proof, and that would need
to be enough. Somehow, he had to try.
Regretfully, he’d wished he’d practiced what he was going to say before finding her. “I’m sorry. I should’ve done this sooner. I just, there’s no way to really explain it without sounding crazy. One day I’ll tell you how I found it, but for now—” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace. “For now, I just wanted you to have it. I don’t know if it means all that much, but I thought maybe you’ve been wondering where it went. So here it is.”
He held it out for her. Admittedly, his words could’ve been smoother, if only he had practiced on the journey down.
But she said nothing, just stood there, perplexed.
Santiago worried that she was mad or maybe he had caused her so much joy that she was having a stroke. “Mara?”
“I…I don’t understand.” Her tone was flat.
“I know, and I will explain it someday. But, believe me, you don’t want to hear that story just yet. After hearing about your sisters though, I thought maybe the necklace meant something to you, and I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“My sisters?” Mara interrupted, before shaking her head in protest. “No, I mean, should this mean something to me? I don’t understand why you’re giving it to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The necklace you’re holding—it’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before. What made you think it was mine?”
Now feeling a bit dizzy, he faltered back a step. It didn’t make sense. In the dream, the necklace had led him to her; it was the whole reason why he had agreed to come to California. The dream had presented him with the locket, revealed Mara to him, and he knew it was hers. It was something he couldn’t very well explain, which was why he had never tried doing so with Graciela, but deep inside his gut, he knew, without a doubt, that the necklace had belonged to Mara.
But now she was saying otherwise.
What was the point of the dream then? And why did he have the locket when he woke up the next day? None of it made any sense, and it was all very anticlimactic. Here he thought that he had found something of great importance to her. Although he knew it was foolish, for some reason he had held out hope that this was something that would bring them closer together.
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