“You can’t reach me,” she says.
The crack slithers across her arms, over her chest, and down her abdomen. Her skin is delicate eggshells, crumbling before my eyes. The waves lap at my toes, but I can’t move.
“No!” I scream. “Come back. Come back to me! I’m sorry.”
She’s leaving me again. I won’t be able to find her. Her skin falls away, slivers of shell-like leaves falling to the darkening waters. She’s disappearing right in front of me, the puzzle I can’t solve.
Paralyzed, I can do nothing as piece by piece she disappears into the sea until she’s completely gone. Nothing left but her soft whispers on the waves.
You can’t reach me. You can’t reach me. You can’t reach me.
I rake my fingers through the sand, grit collecting beneath my nails that split and bleed. I scream.
I’m still screaming when I awake, sitting up violently and drenched in sweat. My sheet is painfully twisted around my middle, tightening like an anaconda as I struggle against it.
What the fuck just happened? Where did she go?
Scrambling out of bed, I pull on my jeans and a T-shirt. I don’t even bother with underwear. My sheets stink from sweat, and my phone is glowing angrily with missed calls from my mother. Peering closer at the time, I see I’ve slept for a night and most of a day.
What the fuck?
The promise of dreams of Mikayla kept me rooted to the bed, making me return to sleep again and again. But an entire day?
Whatever. I don’t care. I got to be with my sister, even if just for a moment. Every time I closed my eyes, she was there. Her hand in mine, her voice, her smile. I’ve been able to hug her, smell the scent of her favorite shampoo and the way she says my name. It’s been beautiful, serene, precious.
Until this last one.
You can’t reach me.
What does it mean? Where did Mikayla go? Is she…? I can’t bring myself to say it.
The image won’t leave me — the splintering cracks across her skin like angry black veins and the way she fell bit by bit into the dark water.
I wipe away my tears with the back of my clammy hand. I need to calm down, but I can’t. My chest is tight, and heaving, and I’m gasping for air. Acrid saliva fills my mouth and chokes me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I need help.
I grab my keys and run out the door.
It’s nearing midnight, but the streets are strangely empty. At first, I don’t know where I’m going but then I realize where my feet are taking me.
I was at Beatriz and Luisa’s apartment until late last night. We drank cocktails that Rafi embellished with edible flowers and extra bubbles. By the end of the evening, Luisa and I were back to normal. More or less.
I need to speak to Beatriz. Whatever she’s done is giving me nightmares, and I need her to undo it. She has to help me understand what Mikayla’s trying to say to me.
My feet pound the sidewalk as I weave down the narrow roads. All the streets of Barcelona look the fucking same! Doubling up on myself and trying to make sense of the grid system, all I see is tall building after bland tall building.
I cut down a narrow side street, past busy bars smelling of chorizo and cigar smoke, giving no thought to dirty Vampires or the mopeds I’m dodging. Colorful laundry sways in the breeze above me, clothes like cloth lanterns shading me from the glow of a nearly-full moon.
The warm air whips against my shoulders, but I can’t manage to gulp any of it down. I can’t breathe. By the time I reach Luisa’s front door, I’m damp with sweat, my heart pounding so much I think I might be having a heart attack.
Also, my chest hurts — because who the fuck runs that fast without a bra on?
I slam my fist on the door, and ring their buzzer, before collapsing. And that’s how Luisa finds me, crumpled on her doorstep like a discarded stuffed toy thrown out for the trash.
She blinks in surprise and sinks down until we’re face to face.
“Saskia? Where have you been? We tried calling you today and… What’s wrong?”
I’m crying, big heaving sobs, my greasy hair hanging over my face and my arms hugging my knees.
“Come, let’s get you inside.” She helps me to my feet and guides me up the first flight of stairs to her apartment. I’m hyperventilating, trying to swallow air that won’t make its way down. My vision is blurry, and my hands are shaking, so it takes me a while to realize the soft thump of music is coming from her living room. I blink once, twice, until the scene before me clears. Beatriz and Rafi are sharing a spliff and looking at me like I’m a stray cat Luisa just found.
“You,” I hiss, pointing at Beatriz. “You fucked up my dreams.”
“Dreams? Plural?” she says, her voice calm. “I gave you one dream, Saskia.”
Luisa guides me to an armchair, and hands me a glass of water, but my hands are too shaky to grip it. I put my head between my knees, trying to gather my thoughts and breath. I’m dying, growing more certain of that with every passing second.
“I’ve had more than one dream,” I croak. “I’ve had at least five.”
I rub my face, recalling how wonderfully they started. The first dream was pure magic, me and Mikayla laughing, sitting on the beach for hours gossiping, the sun warming our skin.
“The first one was from me,” Beatriz says, taking a drag of the spliff. “But whatever came next is your subconscious.”
“It doesn’t make sense. They started off nice but… and now…”
It’s back again. That infernal tightness that makes my chest feel like stretched canvas. I can’t breathe. I think of the waves. I think of Mikayla drowning.
“Relax.” Luisa looks up at me, her voice laced with concern. “You have to breathe, Saskia.” She reaches out her hand, then pauses mid-air. “Can I help you? Is it OK if I use my power on you?”
I nod. Touchmage or not, I don’t care. It feels like I’m going to die.
Tentatively, she places her hand on mine. I don’t notice anything at first, then a soft dewy calmness spreads through me like warm milk. I feel my body relax; shoulders roll back, my gaze steadies. Finally, the warmth reaches my chest, and the panting slows, lulls, then stops altogether.
I take a deep breath for the first time since waking up. An odd sense of ease washes over me. I’m virtually giddy with relief, like the moment a migraine finally fades.
I stretch and look at Luisa in awe. “That… That was kind of cool.”
“Walk us through the dreams,” she says softly, her hand still on mine. “What happened?”
Beatriz crouches beside me, Rafi edging closer, and I tell them everything. I tell them what it was like to see and hear and touch my missing sister again. How bitter it was to wake and realize she was still gone. Then I tell them how my dreams turned to nightmares, how I could no longer reach her, and I was forced to stand by and watch her crumble into the sea. By the end, I’m sobbing again, and Luisa has to place her healing touch upon me once more.
“What if… What if she’s dead?” I stammer, my voice thick with tears.
“Dreams don’t answer questions,” Beatriz says. “They’re just stories told by your subconscious. I only gave you the first dream, the one you needed that was calm and pleasant. The others — they were your fear talking.”
“I need to know though,” I shout. Rafi squeezes my shoulder and gives me a small smile, but I can’t stop the grip of fear making my mind whirl. “I need to know if she’s somewhere asking for my help. She’s powerful, Beatriz. What if she’s using her magic to reach me? Or what if she’s…gone? How can you tell if someone’s dead?”
The room grows silent, the three Mages looking at one another. Rafi subtly shakes his head, and Luisa replies with a tired shrug.
“There is a way to find out,” she says carefully.
“Luisa, no,” Rafi says. “Not the Nox.”
“It’s our only choice. They talk to the dead. We can go right now,” she says.
Rafi doesn’t look co
nvinced. “The HQ is closed at night. We can go in the morning.”
“That’s pointless. You know they can’t channel during the day.”
“Well, then how do we get into the building?” he asks, his hands rising and falling in exasperation.
There’s a silence, punctured only by my labored breathing.
“I know a way in,” Beatriz says quietly.
Rafi rolls his eyes. “Even you can’t just walk into MA headquarters at night, Beatriz.”
She smiles. “Who said anything about walking?”
Chapter Fourteen
Luisa and Rafi stare, mouths open, as Xavi turns from bird to man, then strides over to Beatriz and kisses her on the mouth.
The five of us huddle together outside the MA headquarters as Beatriz proceeds to explain to Xavi which chimney to fly through and how to unlock the building from the inside.
“My pleasure,” he says with a wide grin, shifting back again and shooting into the sky.
Luisa spins around. “What the fuck was that, Beatriz?”
“Friends in high places.” Beatriz picks an errant feather from her jacket and twists it between her fingers.
“Chica.” Rafi whistles. “You didn’t tell us you were getting feathered by a hot Shifter.”
“And why didn’t you?” Luisa’s entire body bristles, making it quite clear how she feels about being kept out of the loop on her roommate's love life.
Beatriz’s cheeks redden. “I didn’t get the chance.”
“Per què? Does a Wizard keep him confined to a lake during the day?” Luisa’s eyes flash with anger. “Or did you just think your friends were bigoted assholes who wouldn’t understand?”
“Easy girl.” Rafi puts a hand on Luisa’s shoulder then smiles at Beatriz. “We’re glad to meet him, either way.”
I remain silent, staring up at the starless sky. This is it. Wherever they are taking me, I’m possibly moments away from knowing what happened to Mikayla. I’ve waited two years for this.
We all jump at the sound of the metal doors creaking open. Xavi is standing in the MA doorway with a triumphant grin on his handsome face, arms outstretched.
“The key master has arrived! I’m Xavi, by the way.” He kisses Luisa, and Rafi shakes his hand warmly like they’ve been buddies forever. Xavi turns to me and greets me shyly, remembering I’ve already seen him in his birthday suit.
“Let’s get going,” Beatriz urges, in her usual businesslike fashion. Although she’s clearly pleased by how easily her friends have taken to her contraband boyfriend.
As we step inside the foyer, Rafi waves his hand, making nearby ivy grow to cover the security cameras. At the back of the entrance hall, Beatriz nods to a wall, and with a swipe of her hand it slides open. I shudder at the thought of how many other dark secrets are hiding in this building.
The staircase to the basement is dark, but at least it has a handrail and LED lights on each step so we can see where we’re going. I’m not sure what I was expecting from an MA basement, but it definitely involved more open brickwork and stored cauldrons.
“How do you know these guys again?” I whisper to Luisa.
“We play poker some afternoons.”
“Do I need to pay them or something? Like you do with a psychic,” I ask. “Do mediums accept PayPal? Because I’m not ready to give up my firstborn or make a pact with the devil.”
My words are fast, scattered. MA Witches already give me the creeps, and that’s without them being able to speak to the dearly departed.
Luisa’s hand slips into mine for a moment, and all my worries drain away.
“Chill,” she says. “Alba and her brother, Jan, are really cool...” She hesitates. “The Nox are a little lonely. They enjoy our weed and company.”
“I thought on the way here you said there were three of them.”
Silence. I don’t like her silence.
“Luisa?” I hiss.
“We don’t talk about Ramon.”
The door at the bottom of the stairs is made of metal like something you’d find in a castle wine cellar, but only if you were afraid the wine might try to escape.
Luisa knocks three times, but no one answers.
“Your friends live here?” Xavi asks, looking up at the low ceiling with wariness. I imagine there could be nothing worse for a bird than living underground.
He drapes his arms around Beatriz’s shoulders and sighs. As if merely touching her puts him back at ease.
“The Nox live in darkness,” Rafi explains, tone clipped.
Luisa knocks again, this time with a clenched fist.
“Open the fucking door, torracollons.”
With a loud crunch, the door slowly opens, revealing a guy our age in long shorts and a faded t-shirt. He blinks up at us. His hair is bright white and messy, and his eyes look grey in the half-light. Did we just wake him up?
“Oooh it’s a party,” he says to Luisa, running his hand through his long hair. “Welcome to our pretty palace of pain, Mages. Hurry. Don’t let the light in.”
We squeeze past him, and I notice a lingering look pass between him and Rafi. What was it he said about a Nox he had a fling with once?
I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The basement reminds me of both a giant underground dorm room and a skatepark. It’s not MA pretty down here; it’s literally a hollowed-out concrete room. I can see three beds at the far end, a washbasin, and a door that I presume leads to a toilet. That’s it.
The walls have been plastered with haphazardly hung neon posters, lit by blacklight. It reminds me of an underground rave I went to in New York once. No windows, just UV lighting, and glowing graffiti.
I look up, expecting to see glow-in-the-dark stickers like I used to have in my bedroom as a child, instead there’s a giant waxing moon. And I don’t mean a painting or a corny light, it’s a realistic sky etched above our heads, as if the ceiling is perfectly mirroring the night outside.
I go to say something, but Rafi beats me to it, throwing himself back on a beaten-up old couch.
“We come bearing gifts,” he says, producing a fat nugget of weed out of his coat pocket like a magician pulling a rabbit from a top hat.
Jan leans close to him, sniffs and grins.
“Purple Kush?”
Rafi smirks. “MaryAire, my own strain.”
Jan examines the bag appreciatively. “Moving up in the world.”
A beautiful girl has appeared out of nowhere. This must be Alba. She kisses Luisa hello on both cheeks then stares at Beatriz, Xavi and me, her head tilted to one side like a cat. We stay silent, although I notice Xavi move closer to Beatriz, her shoulders pulled back defiantly.
Just like her brother, Alba’s hair is bright white, and practically glowing in this weird dayglo light. She’s wearing a long white t-shirt that falls to her knees, and is so transparent I can see she’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts underneath.
“Would it be OK to put the light on?” I ask.
Everyone laughs. Xavi and I are the only ones who don’t get the joke.
“There’s no light here. We’re Nox. It literally means ‘night’ in Latin,” says the girl.
Great, I love being patronized. “I know that, Alba. But why can’t you light a candle or something? Even Vampires like candlelight.”
The dingy blue light of the UV strips highlights her sad expression, and I instantly feel bad for my quip. Alba’s gaze settles on Luisa’s hand in mine, and her thin lips purse tightly.
“So, who’s your friend, Luisa?”
I clear my throat. “I’m Saskia de la Cruz, I’m visiting…”
Alba staggers back, and Jan, who was skinning up a joint beside Rafi a moment ago, is now on his feet.
“Joder!” Jan cries, rounding on Rafi. “You can’t bring Solina’s daughter in here. What the fuck were you thinking?!”
“She’s fine,” Rafi replies, reaching for his hand. Jan pulls away. “She’s been with us for the last three days. Be
lieve me, she hates Solina as much as you do.”
Jan and Alba look at me and I shrug, nodding my head.
They don’t look convinced, but neither do they say anything further. Rafi lights Jan’s spliff before passing it to him, and Alba snatches it out of her brother’s hand, and takes a drag. She holds it between her long black nails that have been filed into dangerously sharp tips. Luisa still hasn’t said a word or let go of my hand.
Beatriz is perched on the edge of the battered couch, and pats it for her boyfriend to join her.
“I’m Beatriz and this is Xavi.”
Accepting the joint from Alba, she takes a tentative drag, then passes it to Xavi who grins, and kisses her neck. She giggles. Alba visibly relaxes, seeing that none of us are any kind of threat.
“So, you both hate my mother?” I ask, by way of conversation.
The room stills and everyone looks at one another. Jan takes a big intake of breath.
“She’s the reason we’re locked up in this shitty basement.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Locked up?”
“As good as,” Luisa says, leading us to the couch.
“While you guys get to study in the fresh air and daylight, the MA insists we stay down here to hone our skills,” Alba explains.
I sit on the floor beside Rafi’s legs, and pull Luisa down beside me. She shuffles closer, then passes me the joint. Alba remains standing.
“My mother has made you stay down here? For how long?”
“Three years,” Jan says from behind me.
I cough. “What the fuck?”
Only Xavi looks as surprised as I am.
“We’re pretty rare,” Alba says, deadpan. “There are a few other Nox Mages out there, but triplets are practically unheard of. We channel on all three frequencies, and the darkness helps us hone our skills over time.”
“Frequencies?”
Alba sighs at my question and Beatriz jumps in. “As a Nox, you can either talk to the dead, hear the dead, or see them.”
“Alba talks to them, and I hear them,” Jan says. “Our brother, Ramon, he sees them.”
“Is he here? Ramon?” I ask, looking around.
Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles Book 2) Page 11
