by Domino Finn
"They're in Mom's car."
He handed her a key chain jangling with lots of keys. "Well, you'd better go get them because we're taking my car today."
"The Corvette!" she squealed, putting a little hop into it. She snatched the keys and hurried to the garage, leaving us alone. Which, of course, was Evan's intention.
"Bribery?" I grumbled.
"It is a nice car," countered Milena with a wink.
Great. Everyone was against me.
"You should've called," said Evan. "I'm on my way out."
"Sorry. This will only take a minute."
He scoffed. "Any conversation you wanna have is bound to be a long one." Emily crossed her arms silently, but he noticed her gaze and relented. "What's up?"
I got right into it. "I've got a lead on Connor Hatch. He's running a deal in the Port of Miami. I figured I'd do the DROP team another favor."
I immediately had Evan's attention, but a good half of it was blatant skepticism. "The head of the Agua Fuego cartel is in Miami?"
"He is or he will be. Real soon."
"You've seen him?"
"Not yet. I just have some street intel."
Evan frowned. "I don't know. The Port of Miami's a bad place for a drug deal. Too much federal and local presence in the water. My guys from Vice say the sketchy stuff comes through the River and the Intracoastal."
"Don't underestimate Connor's connections."
Evan crossed his arms. "Yeah, I get it. The police are a bunch of morons but Cisco's here to save the day."
"I'm not saying that," I told him. "But you're playing checkers and Connor's playing chess."
"Well, gee, that sure does sound like we're morons."
"He's not human, Evan. When are you gonna get it in your head? The police can't fight a jinn."
Emily rested her hand on her husband's arm. She was used to playing referee for me and Evan by now. Ever since I'd returned from the dead, we'd had this rivalry thing going on. It was easy to explain on the surface. He was married to my ex-girlfriend. Raising my child. Hell, he was a police officer and I was a vagrant outlaw. But our friendship was our common ground. That was still strong. We'd just had to work at it lately.
"When's this meeting taking place?" he asked in an even voice.
"Sundown."
Evan eyed me like I just farted rainbows. Then his cynicism returned. My friend stepped closer to me and worked his jaw. "You want me to lead a team of detectives on a raid with zero intel and a few hours' notice?"
So much for the calming hand of his wife.
"I'm just extending the offer," I said. "I've been trying to get close to this guy for months. This is my best chance."
Emily's face hardened. There was no love lost in this family for Connor Hatch. I just hoped she hated him more than she hated me.
Evan rubbed his forehead like a headache was coming on. "You don't want law enforcement, you want backup for an off-the-books drug heist."
I smiled cheekily. "When you put it like that, it sounds like I'm pushing the limits of our friendship."
"You think?"
Fran returned with cleats in her hand. Evan asked her to wait outside. After she was gone again, Evan turned to me.
"I can't help you, Cisco. I could explain how operations like this require more lead time. I could try to convince you that bullshit intel gets people killed. But the real reason I'm not helping you is because you're out of control."
I reared away from him. Milena sat on the couch with her head lowered. Emily avoided my gaze. No one wanted to back me up. "What are you talking about?"
"What am I—?" He laughed. "Collateral damage, Cisco. Your escapade this morning was all over the news. I don't know which caused more accidents, your car chase or dumping a million in cash on the highway."
I scratched the back of my head. "It was closer to a million and a quarter."
"These drug shootouts are becoming more frequent. They're getting bigger."
"You're talking about bad press?"
He raised his voice. "I'm talking about people. Car accidents. Property damage. You think Miami is your own personal Vice City." He took a breath and added softly, "What happened to your desire to build a relationship with Fran? What happened to the peace you've achieved?"
He was talking about the fact that I'd freed the Covey. Ended the threat against me in Miami. With it, I'd ended the police pursuit as well. I was free and clear in his mind. Ready to move on.
My voice came out gravelly and hard. "I can never be at peace as long as Connor's alive."
Evan scoffed, but nodded like he'd expected my answer. "You know," he said, "at first you were on the defensive, fighting for your life. You came to me scrambling. Now you're fighting for something else. And you're bringing that trouble to the streets of your city. You're bringing strife to everyone close to you."
I pushed the image of Hernan out of my head. The beat-up old man—that's what Evan was talking about. That's what my life was. One long guilt trip, extending breath by miserable breath.
"I've tried to distance myself," I swore. "I've tried. It doesn't work. People I haven't seen in months get assaulted. Do you want me to just lie down and die?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "I want you to sit this out. I want you to get a job and live a normal life."
"And leave the criminals to the professionals," I finished. "Sorry, Evan. My friends and family are in danger no matter what I do. Because it's not me. It's Connor Hatch." I turned to my ex. "Tell him, Em. The guy needs to be stopped, and the police need my help to do it."
She spoke quickly and precisely, without an ounce of emotion in her words. "I won't tell my husband how to handle police work."
I stood there a moment, feeling the wind go out of my sails. I couldn't believe Emily of all people wouldn't wanna go after the jinn. "At least tell him that Connor needs to be stopped. That we can use our spellcraft for something besides his devious schemes."
She stared at me coldly, but her eyes fluttered when I mentioned spellcraft.
Evan scoffed. "Connor's out of our lives now. All that's behind her. The only magical influence around these days is you, Cisco."
I traded glances with them. Evan didn't know. Emily hadn't revealed her secret to him. She was an animist, like me. Not as talented (I could only assume), but I'd discovered the hard way that she could work light magic. In a way, she was the opposite to my shadow.
A horn honked outside. Fran waiting in the Corvette. Instead of contributing to the conversation, Emily remained quiet. Evan spread his hands, waiting for my comeback. I didn't have one so he hit me again.
"How about this, Cisco? Forget about this business. Come with me to soccer practice."
"Evan..." warned his wife.
"It's fine, Emily. Cisco can sit next to me on the bleachers. Just two old buddies catching up. I'll even spring for a six-pack of that swill you drink. What do you say?"
My neck tightened. My whole body, really. A strange tingling sensation overtook me. Nerves.
In a way, my friend was offering me everything I wanted. A chance to connect with my daughter. A chance to have something worth having. I turned to Milena. Her eyes shimmered. If I went to Fran's soccer practice, that meant I was letting Hernan down. Still, Milena forced a smile and nodded for me to go. She knew how much it meant to me.
"I can't do that," I said softly.
Emily relaxed her shoulders. The mother of my child didn't want me anywhere near her. What the hell did that say about me?
Evan didn't bother showing relief or disappointment. He'd already known my answer. My friend walked slowly to the front door and then turned. "You're making Miami a more dangerous place, Cisco. And you'll keep doing that as long as you continue fighting your own personal war on drugs."
Every signal in my brain urged me to follow him out that door. I told myself it was for Fran's good. I told myself that it was the wrong time. That I had other commitments.
I didn't believe any of
the excuses. I watched him go and collapsed on the couch in defeat.
Chapter 16
Emily had been standing the entire conversation. Now that she was the only one doing so, she sat on the armrest on the couch across from me, next to Milena.
Her motions were careful. Robotic. Normally I would've wondered if something was wrong, but there was plenty wrong and I knew it. Emily had belonged to the Covey, a covert group of mages forcibly led by Connor himself. They hadn't been thralls exactly, not like I was, but they were the next best thing. A powerful artifact had stirred their blood to commit horrible misdeeds. More slaves to the whims of a jinn. It was a lot to own up to.
I didn't have that excuse. Emily's half sister, Kita Mariko, had been under the influence of Connor when she attacked me. It was kill or be killed, and I ended her life. Tough thing for a sister to accept.
So when I looked at Emily now, I knew things weren't okay. The neutral tone when she greeted me at the door had been for her daughter's benefit. Now, without the pretense of friendship, her distaste was clear.
Milena watched me from across the coffee table. She didn't know Emily but she knew the score. She waited for one of us to break the newly formed ice, but Emily and I were stubborn like that. So Milena plucked an apple from the bowl on the table and loudly chomped on it.
I'd always thought those things were just decoration. Who knew people ate random fruit lying around? But maybe she just wanted to make a point. Trust me, if you think awkward silence is uncomfortable, try going through it while Milena chews an apple like a cow. It was unbecoming.
After half-eaten fruit didn't do the trick, she set it down. "So," she said, nodding her head to our host, "you know magic?"
Emily did her best deer-in-headlights impersonation.
"Oh, come on," I said. "It has to be obvious. Especially after what I said. You're telling me Evan doesn't know?"
She pressed her lips together and turned away. "There's no need."
"You should tell him, Em."
"Should I?"
The question was rhetorical but I was never one to pass on a layup. "Of course you should tell him. It's a part of you. A talent you can use for something important. Or just really cool laser light shows."
"I want to give it up," she said bluntly. "The spellcraft... My training was the deal that got me involved with Connor in the first place. Kita introduced us, set the bait, and the rest was history. I was hooked." She frowned at the mention of her sister.
I kept my mouth shut. Even Milena didn't want to touch that live wire.
"She hated our father," continued Emily, softly. "She felt like the redheaded stepchild. Abandoned and uncared for. Her mother passed away and our father didn't blink an eye. I didn't even know about it. So Kita hated our father. That much is true. But she never would've killed him."
I nodded. That had been the power of the heartstone. To amplify emotion. To create the seed of thought where it didn't exist.
"It seems like such a shame," I offered.
"It's behind us." Emily faced me with piercing eyes. "Don't you see, Cisco? We're free of Connor, but you're not. That's why Evan gets nervous when you're around. He doesn't want targets painted on our backs."
I understood the sentiment well.
"Cisco, you've got to stop gunning for him in the streets. You're asking for more trouble than you can handle."
"It's not about what I'm doing. It's about what I have. The Horn of Subjugation." She didn't say anything. In a fit of anger, I'd revealed to her I had it. That was back when she was Connor's good little slave. He would know whatever she did. I shook my head and took a breath. "Has Connor really left you alone?"
She shrugged. "We're taking it a day at a time, happy for every new sunrise without him."
That was something, I supposed.
"What about you?" asked Emily, studying Milena. "You know magic?"
"Me?" she asked, exasperated. "Oh, no way. I must've missed those electives."
"Cute. I meant what are you doing in my house?"
"Excuse me for helping a friend. You should try it sometime."
"Oh, I get it," said Emily icily. "You're Cisco's new squeeze. A little young for him, don't you think?"
Milena's eyes narrowed. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you."
"Maybe I'd be more presentable if I had my breasts done too?"
I dropped my face into my hands. "What are we talking about right now?"
"Quiet," they both snapped.
I deserved a lot of bad things, but I didn't deserve this.
Milena sprang to her feet. For a second I thought she would throw down right here, but I should've given her more credit. Some of the old hood was still in Milena—that couldn't be denied—but the woman was in far too much control of herself. She'd overcome too many obstacles to be so easily goaded into losing her temper.
"For your information," said Milena, "Cisco and I are not an item. He's helping me protect my abuelo from a bad guy you made a deal with. Cisco never had any choice about that. And it's not his fault. So I'm sticking by him. That's what real friends do. Whenever you figure out what the fuck you are, let us know. Until then, I have a policy of not staying where I'm not welcome."
Milena brushed past me and slammed the door on the way out. Afterward, the room was so quiet I wished she'd come back and finish her apple. I stared at the scales on my boots for a while. When I leaned back, I noticed Emily's eyes watering.
"I wasn't a zombie," she said softly.
I furrowed my brow. The conversation had passed me by some minutes ago. I figured the best way I could keep up was to shut my mouth and listen.
"You're lucky," continued Emily. "Not being able to remember the bad things you did." She stared at her hands. "The heartstone didn't only leave my memory intact, but it made me believe in everything I did. It made me passionate about betraying friends and lovers. And killing family."
I chewed my lip. Now I wanted to say something but had no idea what.
"It's not the bad things I did," she said. "I wasn't in control. I know that. But the way I felt when I did those things, those feelings are still in my head."
I grimaced at the thought. According to Emily, I was fortunate to have been a mindless zombie. And she was right. I killed my parents but didn't remember any of it. She had her father killed and remembered how glorious it felt. There was no accounting for that kind of emotional trauma.
That's why what Emily said was so biting. Just as with Kita's relationship with their dad. That hate might have been engineered—it might've been planted by the jinn as a play for resources—but no matter where the hate came from, it was real. The emotions of the heartstone faded over time, but they shaped their victims no less than any other life experience. That blur, that gray area, was a new experience for Emily to contend with.
"Kita was a tragedy," I said weakly. "That's on me."
"No," she cut in. "My actions prevented you from phasing into the shadows. I blossomed the light in that room to flush you out and force you into a corner. It worked. I was a part of that showdown. I all but guaranteed one of you wouldn't walk away."
I swallowed softly. "Emily, your words are true, but you're only focusing on a tiny part of the whole design. All these little choices, right or wrong, they only mean we're human. The atrocities we committed rest on one man's shoulders. Not a man at all, really. A jinn." I got up and kneeled in front of her. I was even bold enough to clasp her hands in mine. "I know you hate me, Emily. After everything. But I want you to know I'm going to handle Connor. He'll be gone from our lives forever. With or without the police."
Her head remained down, unresponsive to my words. I wanted her to help. I wanted her to give me something. At the same time, I had no idea what I was asking for. I released her hands when they didn't seem to warm. I stood to go.
"It's not you I hate," she said in a whisper, barely audible. "It's me."
"That wasn't you."
"I know. It was Connor. The heart
stone. I hear your logic and it makes sense. I know I'm not directly responsible for everything that happened. But how I feel is another matter." She wiped her face. "There's something left behind. Something like..."
"A stain," I finished.
She looked up at me and nodded. "Even though it wasn't me, I feel that I deserve the fallout."
"Residual guilt," I said. "I know about that too. And all I know is that we can't let it paralyze us."
I didn't get a smile. I didn't magically make everything better. By that point, I just wanted to get out of there. I left her sitting in silence, lost in thought, trying to shake away the despair.
How could I help her when I couldn't even help myself?
I kicked the welcome mat angrily on the way out. Sometimes I think spellcraft's less complicated than human emotion.
Chapter 17
Milena waited by the truck. She was on the phone in a heated conversation. It was infectious. Hernan with some family bullshit. I started the pickup and drove in silence, pondering my own family bullshit, until Milena hung up.
After a minute of tense silence, she hissed. "I need to get back to the hospital before they kick my abuelo out."
"He has insurance, doesn't he?"
"It's not that. He's causing a commotion. He wants to leave."
Tough son of a bitch. A beatdown like that and he didn't even want to spend the night in the hospital.
"He has crazy ideas," she complained. "He hates being away from the house. Thinks someone needs to be there to watch it or something."
I didn't say anything. I learned a long time ago not to try to change the mind of anyone over fifty. After half a century on this spinning ball of rock, they were pretty set in their ways.
I turned north onto 12th Avenue and frowned when a green sedan behind us followed. That was three turns in a row. Still, it could be a coincidence. This was a busy four-lane thoroughfare. Most of Miami was up this way. What was suspicious was that the car had been a speed demon on the side streets, itching to catch up. Now it cruised slowly down two empty lanes of traffic. I slowed to see if it would pass.
