An Ill Wind

by Christine Pope

  For once, a piece of good news. Because if Joaquin Escobar had left El Salvador of his own will, that meant there wasn’t anyone he’d left behind who was stronger than he. It sounded as though the reason no one had heard from the Escobars was simply that none of them had the necessary powers to come to the United States and make trouble. And if that was the case, then he and Cassandra just might be able to slip in and get the grimoires without too much trouble.

  …except for the minor detail that someone in the clan had been strong enough to slip into Castillo territory with no one noticing…strong enough to somehow get past Miranda’s wards and take the books they wanted. Maybe the person in question wasn’t as strong as Joaquin Escobar had been, but that didn’t mean they might not still be a very formidable adversary.

  “But he never returned,” Cassandra said, sounding satisfied. “And no one came looking for him, either. It sounds to me like we don’t have too much to worry about.”

  “I suppose that is possible,” María Consilio said, her overly polite tone seeming to indicate that she didn’t agree with Cassandra’s view of the situation but wasn’t going to argue with her.

  “Is there anything else?” Tony inquired. “Anything Isabella told you that might help us to get to Pico Negro?”

  “Not that I can remember,” the nun replied. “She was worried for her children, worried that Joaquin would somehow be able to find them, even though she had traveled thousands of miles to escape him. She only told me of where she’d come from because she wanted me and the other sisters working in the shelter to keep an eye out for anyone with a Salvadoran accent. But no one like that ever came.”

  Lucky for Isabella, Tony thought. He sort of doubted that a bunch of nuns would have been able to do much against a powerful warlock like Joaquin Escobar.

  “Thank you very much, sister,” Cassandra said. She got up from the bench, and Tony rose as well, guessing that she wanted to get back across the border to San Diego as quickly as possible so they could book a flight to El Salvador. “We really appreciate your time.”

  “It is no problem,” she responded. “My life is one of service. Only….”

  Tony almost didn’t ask, because he didn’t much like the worried expression the nun now wore. But he found himself saying, “Only what?”

  Her smile was sad. “I only hope I have not done the both of you a disservice by telling you where to find the Escobars.”

  There were no non-stops from San Diego — the closest international airport — to San Salvador. Cassandra realized she should have guessed that would be the case, since San Diego wasn’t exactly what you could call a hub. “I can book two separate flights — one from here to Mexico City, and one from there to San Salvador — or I can get a flight on United with a three-hour layover in Houston.”

  Tony wrinkled his nose. “Neither one of those options sounds all that great.”

  They hadn’t sounded great to her, either, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. “I know, but I also don’t want to drive all the way to L.A. just to catch a direct flight. So those are our choices.”

  “Stopping in Mexico City could be fun,” he said after a pause to evaluate their two options.

  Tony mentioning “fun” was enough to set off alarms in Cassandra’s mind. While she might privately admit that it would be interesting to spend some time in Mexico City, that wasn’t what this trip was about. They’d already wasted enough time in Tijuana.

  All right, she probably shouldn’t say “wasted,” since they’d gotten some valuable information from Sister María Consilio. Also, Cassandra knew that without their forced stay in Tijuana, her relationship with Tony might not have progressed to where it currently was now. But enough was enough. They needed to get to El Salvador, find Pico Negro, get the books, and get the hell out of there.

  “We should probably take the flight with the layover in Houston,” she said, and Tony grinned at her from where he sat on the bed in their hotel room near Lindbergh Field in San Diego.

  “Why did I know you were going to say that?”

  She shook her head and made her selection on the travel website. At least there were still tickets available. “I need your credit card.”

  “Expensive tickets?” he asked.

  That was an understatement. Round-trip for the two of them would cost almost three thousand dollars. “Um, kind of,” she replied.

  Looking resigned, he got up from the bed, dug his wallet out of his pocket and extracted the credit card, then came over and handed it to her. “Just don’t tell me,” he said. “I’ll see it on my statement at the end of the month.”

  “What if it’s close to your limit?”

  He grinned at her. “It won’t be.”

  Right, because he’s an independently wealthy warlock, Cassandra reminded herself. Although her family was definitely comfortable enough, she had a feeling that their net worth was probably considerably lower than Tony’s.

  Might as well go for broke. “And I’ll need to book a hotel room, or get us an Airbnb.” She opened the tab with the map of El Salvador on it and squinted to estimate the distance between the country’s capital city and the small town that was their destination. “It looks like it’s only about twenty-five miles or so from San Salvador to San Matías, so I think we’ll be okay staying in San Salvador and driving from there.”

  Tony frowned. “I would have thought the Escobars would be hiding someplace more remote than that.”

  “Well, remember that San Matías is just the jumping-off point. I don’t know how far Pico Negro will be from there.” Cassandra paused, trying to remember all the details of Olivia’s narrative about her family’s escape from the Escobar village. “It must be walkable, though, because that’s how Olivia’s mother got out. But even so, we’re probably talking about some pretty thick rainforest. I have a feeling you probably don’t have to go very far before it’s really hard to tell where you’re going.”

  He sat down on the bed next to her, his expression less than thrilled. “Then how are we supposed to find it?”

  “Ask around, I guess. The locals sound like they’re pretty scared of the Escobars, but I’ll bet that we can find someone who’s willing to tell us where to find them if we offer enough cash.”

  To her surprise, he grinned. “That’s a pretty cynical assessment. You’re starting to sound like me.”

  About all Cassandra could do was shake her head at him. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, the flight leaves at 9:50 a.m., so we’ll need to be up early. Hopefully, we’ll have enough time to get some local currency, since I kind of doubt we can use a Visa for that sort of thing.”

  She turned back to her phone, did a quick search, and sent Tony a relieved smile. “Thank God for AirBnb. I just got us an awesome condo.” Turning her phone’s screen toward him, she scrolled through a couple of the listing’s photos. The place was bright and clean and modern, with an absolutely amazing view of San Salvador’s skyline and the volcanic mountains that encircled the city.

  He let out a whistle. “Damn, that’s nice. Any chance we can hang out for a few days before we go book-hunting?”

  “I doubt it. Since we’re not like Simon and don’t know how to hide our witchy natures, about all we can do is get in and get out as fast as we can. I’ll book for two nights, since we’re going to be arriving so late, but I’m hoping we won’t even need that second night.”

  “What about the plane tickets?”

  “I bought us one-way for now. It looks like there are usually some seats available on those flights last-minute, so we’ll buy them when we need them.”

  Tony was quiet for a moment, apparently absorbing all this. “What if there isn’t a flight?”

  That possibility had already crossed her mind. They didn’t have a lot of options, but…. “Then I guess we’ll take our rental car and drive like hell. It’s about three hundred miles to the Mexican border.”

  “Wouldn’t Guatemala be closer?”

 
“Yes, but do you know anyone in Guatemala?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Whereas I’ve got those distant relations up in Sonora. That’s a long way from the southern part of Mexico, but I’m sure if I called, I could get someone to help us out in a pinch.” She let out a breath. “That’s just contingencies, though. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to grab the books, high-tail it back to San Salvador, and be on the earliest plane out of there.”

  “And if we’re not lucky?”

  Somehow, she’d known he was going to ask that question. “Then we’ll have to hope that that silver tongue of yours can get us out of trouble.”

  15

  Tony could tell Cassandra was worried, but that didn’t stop her from letting him persuade her to spend their evening together in San Diego’s Gaslamp District. They wandered the streets, looked in the various shops and galleries, had dinner at an Indian restaurant whose food was as delicious as the decor was elegant. Afterward, they went back to their hotel room and made love, only this time slower, more measured, the two of them exploring each other’s bodies, getting used to their rhythms.

  As he’d thought, Cassandra tasted delicious.

  The next morning, they got to the airport two hours ahead of time. No one seemed to look twice at his passport, and Tony let out a relieved breath once he and Cassandra were safely inside the United lounge. As it turned out, El Salvador had been using American dollars as its currency for decades, so there was no need to exchange their money, although he still went to an ATM and got as much cash out as possible, figuring that would make things go more smoothly once they were on the ground in Central America.

  Their flight was delayed by about twenty minutes, which he could tell annoyed Cassandra. Once they were on board, he put his hand on hers where it lay on the seat rest.

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Our Airbnb is reserved, so it doesn’t matter what time we get there.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I just…I just want this over with, you know? Whatever happens.”

  Personally, he would have liked their departure to be delayed indefinitely. There were a lot worse things he could think of than being stuck in San Diego for an extended period…like being captured by the Escobars and tortured to death. Did the Escobars even do that sort of thing? He realized he really didn’t know much about them, except that Joaquin Escobar had definitely managed to produce a couple of very bad seeds, and the man himself had been ruthless, cunning, and downright evil.

  They’ll probably just kill you, he thought. While that wasn’t exactly the world’s most cheerful notion, at least if death came quickly, he wouldn’t have anything more to worry about. He was far more concerned about Cassandra. It was probably better not to dwell on what the warlocks in that rogue clan might do to a young and beautiful captive witch.

  Great. Now that such a horrible possibility had entered his mind, he couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

  “What is it?” she asked, sending him a sideways look. “You’re frowning.”

  “Nothing,” he said quickly. He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her what he’d just been thinking. Besides, this was Cassandra. She’d probably already considered the possibility and decided it was an acceptable risk.

  Tony wasn’t sure he could look at the situation quite that coldly, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. The jet’s engines had begun to rumble, and the signs to fasten seat belts and raise trays were lit. No backing out at this point.

  Since she was still staring at him, obviously seeing something in his face he hadn’t been able to hide, he added, “First time flying. Guess I’m just nervous.”

  “Ah.”

  “I forgot you were an old pro.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think one flight to Albuquerque exactly qualifies me as a ‘pro.’ But I have some cousins in Tucson who have a small plane, and I’ve gone up in it a few times.”

  Well, that was still way more experience than he had. There were Castillos who owned private planes, but Tony had never had the urge to ask for a ride. He’d gone ballooning in Taos once, and that was fun, but otherwise he figured he might as well keep his feet on the ground. After all, it wasn’t as though witches and warlocks had the opportunity to travel much.

  Unless they were chasing after items pilfered by members of another clan, of course.

  The jet began to taxi down the runway, and without thinking, he clutched the armrests of his seat.

  “It’s perfectly safe, you know,” Cassandra said.

  “Yeah, I know,” he returned. “I guess I didn’t think it was going to vibrate so much.”

  A smile touched her lips, but she didn’t say anything, only patted his hand, then left hers lying on top of his, palm warm against his skin. Yes, that was better. It was good to feel her touch, know that she was there, so very beautiful, so very real.

  They’d both talked to their families that morning, Cassandra to both her parents, Tony to his sister because it seemed safer than getting dragged into a discussion with his father and having it turn into the sort of grilling Henry Castillo generally saved for the courtroom. Ava sounded horrified that Tony and Cassandra were heading to El Salvador, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  “There has to be a better way,” she’d argued. “Someone else in our clan should do this. Or, better yet, some of the de la Pazes. It’s their books that got stolen.”

  “Who?” he asked. “The de la Pazes sent their best witch for the job — Cassandra Sandoval. And you know our clan isn’t exactly overflowing with people who can hold their own in a magical battle.”

  “And you can?” his sister asked, sounding skeptical and worried at the same time.

  “Come on — you know I have an awesome power. I’ll blow all those Escobars into next week.”

  Ava had let out a huff of a breath, but she didn’t directly contradict him. Maybe she’d gained a little more respect for his magical abilities after he’d survived that confrontation with Simon Escobar…or maybe she’d simply realized that it didn’t matter how much she argued with him. Nothing she said was going to change anything.

  “All right,” she said finally. “Just…be careful. Mom’s sitting up in bed and eating, and it would really suck for something to happen to you just as she was getting so much better.”

  “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll be home to give Mom a hug before you know it. Talk to you later.”

  He’d ended the call there, figuring there was no point in dragging things out any further. The news about his mother was encouraging, and he took his sister’s words to heart. He’d be home to tell her all about his and Cassandra’s success, no matter what happened.

  It sounded as though her own conversation had run along basically the same lines. “My father thinks we’re nuts,” she’d said frankly while they drank coffee in the United lounge. “But he also said there isn’t much he can do to stop us. He reminded me that the Escobars will have all sorts of tricks up their sleeve, so we can’t let our guard down for a moment.”

  “We kind of already knew that,” Tony pointed out.

  “Yes, but he told me about Joaquin Escobar being a null — someone who blanks out all magic around him — and said there’s a possibility others in the clan might have that same power.”

  Tony sincerely hoped not. About all he and Cassandra had going for them was their magical gifts. If those were taken away, he didn’t know what they would do.

  But that was just borrowing trouble. So what if Joaquin Escobar had been a null? Neither of his sons had apparently possessed that same talent, so it wasn’t as if it was strictly hereditary, something to be expected of an Escobar witch or warlock. Maybe Joaquin had been a genetic freak, a sport of some kind? That seemed to make the most sense, considering all the magical gifts he’d been able to command.

  Because the flight was fairly crowded, they didn’t talk much on the first leg of their journey, the two-hour flight to Houston. Their layove
r spanned nearly the same amount of time, but neither he nor Cassandra were much in the mood to wander around the airport. Instead, they hung out in the lounge, had a snack, and talked about mundane things, mostly because there were way too many civilians around to attempt any kind of a strategy session.

  And then they were wheels up and headed southeast, the sun at their backs and disappearing as they flew. When they finally landed at El Salvador International Airport on the outskirts of San Salvador, it was nearly ten o’clock local time and far too dark to see anything of the city. They retrieved their luggage and got a cab — one driven by a real person, a thin middle-aged man in one of the loudest Hawaiian shirts Tony had ever seen — and Cassandra gave the address once they were settled in the back seat.

  “Torre 91, Colonia Escalón, por favor,” she said, and the driver nodded.

  “Sí, senorita.”

  They sped off into the darkness, Tony hoping the entire time that the cab really was taking them to the Airbnb and that they weren’t going to be driven somewhere and robbed…or worse. Not that the guy driving gave off that sort of vibe, but you never really knew, did you?

  “Relax,” Cassandra said in an undertone. “Crime is bad for business.”

  “If you say so.”

  She smiled and poked him in the leg, and he couldn’t help grinning back at her. Of course, she was right. He was probably just feeling a little disoriented after sleeping for a couple of hours on the flight here. And also, he reflected, he’d spent almost his entire life in Santa Fe and the area surrounding it, and now he’d been to California and Mexico and El Salvador, all in the space of a few days. No wonder he couldn’t quite seem to get his bearings.

  The condo was just as nice as Cassandra had said it would be, and viewing the basically brand-new furniture and neat little galley-style kitchen made him relax that much more. True, the bed was only queen size, but he figured they would make do.

  “Nice bed,” he said, sitting down on the foot and giving it a few experimental bounces.