by Ann Aguirre
“I’m sorry about Kel,” he said softly.
“He chose his fate. Not everyone is so fortunate.” But it still hurt.
In my mind’s eye, I saw him fighting Barachiel, fierce and magnificent. I remembered what he’d said in his last moments. The future lies before you, dadu, but I have outlived my purpose. I choose to die a free man. Tears welled up in my eyes. Loss was inevitable; I couldn’t have saved everyone, no matter how I wanted to. I’d freed Booke, rescued Kel once, but his ultimate fate wasn’t mine to decide. At least I had given him that much. The wound in my thigh burned like righteous fire, a reminder of what my fate would have been without the half demon who had not been ordered to protect me, that last time. That ritual would’ve killed me.
He chose his path.
“Speaking as one with experience in adaptation, I think he never quite got over the shock of learning his whole existence had been constructed on a lie. He couldn’t adjust . . . and so, in those final moments, he thought only of surcease.”
“He seemed to be at peace.” But those were only words, what people said in order to comfort each other. Yet I hoped Booke’s interpretation was accurate.
And I hoped, unlike the full-blood demons in Sheol, that Kel hadn’t simply ceased to be. Perhaps his human half meant he had a soul, so there was an afterlife or reincarnation waiting for him. Those were the most cheerful thoughts I could muster, and they didn’t stem the tears. Booke hugged me, his hands gentle on my back. Soon, I got myself under control and stepped away.
“That wasn’t what I came to talk to you about, actually.” I put on a cheerful expression, as I had so many reasons to be happy . . . and grateful.
“Sorry I saddened you.”
“It was the circumstances, not you. The edge will dull in time.”
He nodded. “All things do.”
“I came to find out when you’re leaving. Have you made arrangements yet?”
“I’ve arranged a flight to South Africa, as you suggested. I’m taking steps to secure a legal identity.”
I grinned. “As your own son. How very Connor MacLeod of you.”
“In my case, there can be only one as well, I think. It’s best for the world.”
“So you don’t plan to get married and settle down?” I teased.
“Not for years, if ever. I was forcibly tied to one spot for so long that I can’t imagine anything more heavenly than being a nomad.”
“For eleven months. Then you have to come back to work for Twila.” I wondered if I should give him a heads-up about her romantic inclinations, but no. She wouldn’t thank me for it, and I was sure she would take no for an answer, should Booke be disinclined to her pursuit. Personally, I thought they would make an awesome couple, once he got done sowing his wild oats.
“Don’t fret. It won’t be as onerous as you seem to fear.”
That wasn’t my concern at all. I’d seen the library and it would be a good fit for his abilities and interests. “So when are you leaving?”
“On the red-eye.”
“We’ll take you to the airport.” This was kind of a delicate question, but . . . “How are you fixed for money?”
“I have an account that’s been untouched, earning interest, for some years. If I can get them to release the funds, I’ll be set. That will probably require a forged will.”
“But until then . . . ?” I didn’t know how he’d afforded the fare to South Africa.
“I crafted some spells and sold them. Apparently hermetic tradition is rather rare here in the Southwest. They fetched an excellent price. I expect I shall have no trouble moving more arcane accoutrements to fund my travels.” He patted the smart phone in his pocket. “I can always ask on Area 51 for prospective buyers if there are no shops handy.”
“I had no idea there was so much money in what you do.”
“Nor did I, but it stands to reason. The spells can be used by anyone, which makes them invaluable, once I imbue a focus object with the power.”
“Oh, wow.” Such things would be priceless to the right parties.
“I can take things from here, my darling girl. Don’t trouble yourself further.”
“By which you mean, leave me alone already.” I smiled to show I was joking.
“Never that,” he said soberly. “I’ve been alone far too long ever to take good friends for granted. I’ll email when I can, but don’t look for me on chat.”
“Duh. I expect you to have awesome adventures. I’ll tell the baby all about you.” Unable to believe I’d spoken those words in that context, I pressed a palm against my belly, but I wasn’t showing yet. In three months or so, I’d have a bump, and a bit after that, I should be able to feel movement.
Silently, I worried; I mean, this kid had been conceived in Sheol while his father was a demon queen’s consort, and I wrestled with Ninlil, trying to keep her from doing crazy evil shit twenty-four seven. Moreover, my full-on Solomon Binder heritage had been in play, and Chance had still been a godling. There was no telling what I was incubating, though all early tests showed a healthy pregnancy against all odds. Which meant this peanut was a fighter. With Chance and me as parents, he or she would need to be.
“I’ll come when the baby’s born. Promise.”
“Twila might not let you. You’ll be starting your indenture around that time.”
“I’ll find a way. I know you said emergencies only, but . . . could we dream walk under those circumstances?”
I smiled up at him. “Absolutely.”
“What can you absolutely do?” Chance joined us in the bedroom, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
In the past day, I hadn’t gotten many moments alone. He was a bit reluctant to let me out of his sight and I didn’t blame him. Things still felt fragile, like we needed to touch each other to remain grounded. No matter what, I’d never accepted that his last words to me in Sheol weren’t the literal truth. Even death can’t keep me from you. And here he was; he’d given up godhood for my sake. I nestled against him, marveling that he was here; he’d chosen me against his father’s wishes.
“Meet Booke in a dream to show off the baby.”
His arm tightened on me, a reflexive reaction to the crazy fact that we’d made a new life in hell. “That presumes he can’t come in person? I’m inviting everyone we know when the little guy is born.”
“You know something I don’t?” I raised a brow.
Chance shook his head. “I couldn’t see the future, even from the other side. And now . . . I’m just an average guy.”
My gaze swept him from head to toe, then I laughed. “You’ll never be that.”
He kissed me as if he couldn’t help himself and didn’t stop until Booke cleared his throat. “Far be it for me to stop a PDA, but I need to finish packing.”
“Sorry,” I said, but I was too happy to be embarrassed.
Chance accompanied me to the living room, where Chuch was holding Cami. Eva was in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. Jesse and Shannon would be here soon; this was a farewell party for Booke, but unlike the other one, it would be small and intimate. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be crashed by demons either.
We’d all gone through so many changes over the years. I was no longer a solitary creature, desperately longing for acceptance and a sense of belonging. Instead, I had friends, a man who loved me, and a family on the way. The latter sent a pang of pure visceral terror through me, but I reined it in with the surety that I had a great example of how to love a kid from my own parents. And our little one would have Min as a loving grandma. Not to mention we had the entire Ortiz clan at our backs; Chuch had claimed me long ago as an honorary cousin, which meant I had an extended family the like of which I’d never known.
“We’ll figure it out,” Chance whispered as he drew me down beside him on the couch.
I believed him.
Dinner was a lively affair. For old times’ sake, Eva made her famous tamales. I served them up with green sauce, cream, and g
rated cheese. That night, we talked and laughed with our friends, knowing it was the last time for a while. After this, there would be no more insane adventures. When you had a kid to protect, you got serious about staying out of trouble. I planned to post charms all over our residence in Mexico, paying Tia handsomely for protection. No matter what, our child would be safe. I could tell Chance felt the same way; his expression revealed the awareness that our lives were about to change irrevocably.
After the meal, we sat in groups of two. Chance kept me close while Jesse snuggled with Shannon. By the time Eva got Cami down for the night, nobody really felt like playing party games. I just wanted to chill and enjoy their company. I listened to the guys talking about sports for a little while, until Shannon pulled away from Jesse, beckoning me into the other room.
Butch followed us, so I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone. I said, “Let’s take him out.”
I had the feeling she wanted to talk about something, but I hoped it wasn’t more guilt over hooking up with Jesse. I was having another guy’s baby, for fuck’s sake; if that wasn’t the definition of I’ve moved on, then I had no idea what would convince her. Over the past months, I’d done my best to convey that I was cool with the way things went down. Plus, I was totally, absurdly in love with Chance—to the point that Jesse had thought, at one point, that I was in serious denial and in danger of needing mental health care.
She read my look as Butch trotted into the grass, and laughed. “It’s not what you think.”
“No?”
“I just want to make sure we’re okay. Before the whole amnesia thing, we talked about going into business together—”
Yeah, I remembered. We’d discussed running a consignment shop together, what seemed like ages ago. But circumstances changed. She had new dreams now, and I understood. So did I, actually.
She went on, “Now, I’m putting together a business plan for my own deal. I just don’t want you to think that—”
“Shan, you’re always going to be my best friend.” I put an end to her verbal stumbling. “It doesn’t matter if we live together . . . or work together. As for your idea, I think Zombye Gear will be epic.”
“It’ll hit the goth market anyway.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy. I know that sounds super motherly, but I don’t care, and you have to deal.” More tears prickled at my eyes. “Gods, these hormones. I don’t even know how Eva survived it.”
Shan laughed. “I won’t say you’re glowing, but I am relieved to have an explanation for all the barfing.”
“Me too,” I muttered.
“That was trippy, right? You go in with a demon dog bite and come out with, ‘Surprise, in seven months, you’re having a baby.’”
“It was terrifying,” I confessed.
“Yeah, and with Chance—”
“Dead. It’s fine, you can say it. I know what happened in Sheol . . . and normally, that would be an impediment to a life together.”
“Little bit.”
Butch trotted over to me, his job done, and I picked him up. When I straightened, I wore a smirk. “Anyway, I’m happy for you on all counts. I do, however, expect free clothing and cosmetics as you’re perfecting the prototypes.”
“Deal. But I have years of school ahead of me before then.”
“You’ll be famous by the time Cami is old enough to think your products are cool,” I predicted.
Shan waved a hand in dismissal but I could tell she was pleased. “Maybe. It’ll take some start-up money. I have some ideas on that.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I was thinking I might do séances. Talk to dead people?”
“Be careful. You might cause trouble for Jesse if you get a reputation as a charlatan. And if people think you’re legit, that’s a whole different set of problems.”
She grinned. “I didn’t say it was a perfect plan.”
I hugged her with a squirming dog between us. “I was wondering . . . would you and Jesse be willing to serve as godparents?”
It was a huge thing to ask, considering her age, but she was my closest friend. If all went well, it’d just be a titular role that involved spoiling the baby rotten; so far, it hadn’t been hard with Cami. There were more overtones, like religious training and raising the kid if something happened to Chance and me, but I wasn’t asking with those things in mind. This was a gesture that proved things were—and would always be—good between two Kilmer girls who made it out despite the odds.
Her arms tightened around my shoulders. “God, yes. I mean, I have to ask Jesse, but I don’t think he’ll mind.” Shan’s voice thickened, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I have . . . so much now, Corine—family . . .” I suspected she meant the Ortiz clan and Jesse’s folks, plus all his other relatives. From what she’d said, they had welcomed her with open arms, even though she was young for him and didn’t dress like a nice girl.
She took a breath, continuing, “Friends, a future. I can’t tell you—”
“Then don’t. I get it.”
“Okay.” Shan pushed out a shuddering breath, hugged me hard, then let go. That felt a little symbolic.
At the beginning, she was a lost kid, but she’d turned into a strong woman who could meet me as an equal. She had her own plans and dreams . . . her own life—and that was as it should be. Maybe if I hadn’t cast that forget spell, she wouldn’t have figured out what she wanted from life so soon. I hated to think I could’ve limited her by being overprotective; damn, I had to watch that with my own kid.
“There’s one thing I want to give you,” I said.
“I’ve taken enough from you,” she protested, but I was having none of it.
I put the Pinto keys in her palm. “Chuch can work with you on the title, make it official. It’s a hell of an ugly car, but you need one, and it’s served me well.”
Shan paused, like she might argue. Then she tucked the keys into her pocket. “Thank you.” She’d evidently decided to be gracious. “Now let’s get back in there,” she said. “And party like it’s 1999.”
I nodded. “Yep. We’re taking Booke to the airport late tonight, and then we’re heading out too.”
“God, it hurts to think of saying good-bye to you,” she choked out.
“Don’t make the pregnant lady cry again. And it’s not a good-bye, Shan, never a good-bye between you and me. This is only sayonara.”
Home at Last
It was tough leaving everyone in Texas, knowing it would be months before we got together again. Chance and I intended to catch a midnight bus, so we could sleep on the way home. Airports had better security, and he didn’t have any ID on him. His passport was back in Mexico City at the apartment, along with everything else he owned. I knew from experience that they didn’t care about illegal entry into Mexico. It was only tough getting back into the States.
That night at the bus terminal, I gave hugs and kisses multiple times, nuzzled Cami’s soft baby cheeks until she chortled. Booke was already gone, of course. We’d dropped him off at the airport first. He’d kissed me on the tip of the nose and asked, “How would you like a postcard from Shanghai?”
“I’d love one,” I’d said.
Shan hugged me hardest of all. “I expect regular Skype calls.”
“Every night if you want, at least for a few minutes.”
“Deal.”
Jesse stepped up beside her, letting me know he had her back. She wasn’t sketchy like some gifted girls he’d dated. Maybe she was a little off-kilter to be a cop’s girl, but like complex puzzle pieces, they fit perfectly, creating a larger design. She teared up when Chuch walked Chance and me to the front doors of the station, and I waved until she turned a tearful face into Jesse’s shoulder.
For once at a loss for words, Chuch shifted back and forth on his heels. “I could totally drive you to Monterrey. It’d be no trouble. Eva said—”
I held up a hand, stemming his protest. “And
I said you should get home to your family. We’ll be seeing you soon.”
“You better invite us over.” Chuch cleared his throat, hard.
I choked up in turn. “As soon as possible. Please don’t make me bawl at the bus station, primo.”
At that he managed a smile, then hugged us both, hard. Other people surged around us while Chuch clutched us around the neck; he smelled of cologne and motor oil. Eventually Chance brought the tableaux to a close with a murmur that our bus was leaving in fifteen minutes.
It wasn’t a dramatic exit, more a quiet setting to rights. Chuch, Jesse, and Shan stayed to watch us pull out of the terminal. Though I hadn’t realized it, I was crying silently. Too much had happened, too much change, and my world would never be the same. It wasn’t bad, but it was different; and I’d never been one to adapt too fast.
“We could move to Texas,” Chance said quietly. “All our friends are there.”
“Not Booke.”
“True. But he will be in a year.”
I smiled. “Let’s talk about it then.”
The truth was, even though so many of my loved ones made their homes in Texas, it didn’t feel like home to me. Since leaving Chance, I’d only ever been content in Mexico . . . and I wanted to see how much better it could be with him at my side, building our lives together. If he hated it, then we’d revisit the question.
“I just want to be with you,” he said then. “I don’t care where.”
I melted.
