Bruja Born

by Zoraida Cordova

  He grabs my arms and yanks me back. I lash out with all my fury, channeling every bit of anger and insecurity I’ve felt in the last eight months into a punch that connects with his chin.

  His head snaps back, but only for a second. When he rights himself, he is angrier. Meaner. He is every bit the monster I created when blood vessels thread his white eyes and a terrible cry comes from his open mouth. It makes me jump back. I hit the railing on the second landing and panic as I think about the marble floor at the drop behind me. I shut my eyes, clutching the banister as hard as I can.

  “Sweet Lula,” Maks murmurs, each step cutting off my escape.

  A shiver runs through my body when he’s a breath away from me, and when I look up, I see a pair of familiar blue eyes behind Maks. Irina’s eyes.

  She charges us, her scream piercing as she stabs him through his shoulder and then again and again. Maks punches her back onto the floor.

  He whips around and digs his fingers into my arms, lifting me off the ground.

  “Don’t!” I scream. I yank on his hair, his shirt, his skin, trying to hold on to whatever I can as he pushes me over the banister. Because now more than ever, I want to live.

  I want to live.

  Part III

  The Soul

  30

  La Mama’s love burned brighter than ever,

  her rays too strong for anyone to touch.

  —Tales of the Deos, Felipe Thomás San Justinio

  This was never a love story.

  I realize that as I fall.

  I close my eyes, and to my surprise, my mind is completely blank. I don’t see my past. I don’t see my family. I just wait for the impact.

  But instead of hitting the marble floor, something crashes into me. A body?

  The force of him is like a wrecking ball pushing me to the side. We slide and slam into a wall. I’m half in his arms and half on the floor.

  “You’re heavier than you look,” he says. He half smirks and half grimaces as he tries to sit up.

  I blink a few times, and my heart pounds so fast I’m afraid it’ll run laps around the room on its own. Rhett’s earth-brown eyes look down at me, probably checking to see if I have any life-threatening injuries. Then I grasp what he just said to me and I manage an indignant grunt.

  “I’m small but mighty,” I say.

  “Right, you’re okay, then.”

  I try to stand up but it’s a struggle. A wave of vertigo keeps me in his arms even though I’m trying my hardest to stand up. I scream as I accidentally place my weight on my bad hand.

  “Nothing about this is okay,” I say. I look back up at him through the dark shadows at the edges of my vision. “Maks is still upstairs. His sister is alive. You have to help her!”

  “Stay here.” Rhett sits me up against the wall. “I’ll go find him.”

  Where would I go? I want to say. But I can’t talk anymore. I can barely move.

  “No need,” Maks calls out from above, his voice a deep growl. He jumps over the railing and lands in a crouch. He pushes himself up gracefully and looks the hunter up and down. “Who the hell is this? Another monster to add to your collection?”

  “I’m the last person you’re going to see.” Rhett reaches for the sword at his hip but grabs at empty space.

  Maks lands a solid punch in Rhett’s face. The hunter spits out blood but swings and misses. Maks dodges him and staggers back with a cruel grin on his face. He cracks his knuckles, ready to attack again, when a shuffle draws our attention to the living room door. My heart falls when I see her.

  “You dropped something,” Irina says, her voice like syrup. Her eyes are fading from blue to white, blood trickling from the knife wound at her neck. She picks up the sword lying at her feet.

  “Irina—” The words die on my tongue. What can I say? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. As my heart seizes painfully, I know it won’t be enough.

  Rhett’s features are tight, like he’s combing through every scenario in his playbook. Maks has casimuerto strength and Irina has his sword. Rhett has a messed-up shoulder and no weapon. He’s taller and more muscular than Maks, but Maks doesn’t back down.

  Instead, he takes a step closer. His snowdrift eyes are open wide in amusement as Rhett puts his fists up.

  “Stop, please,” I manage to say. I cough up blood and my heart gives a few painful lurches.

  “Maks,” Irina whispers, raking her fingers across her chest. “I don’t feel well.”

  That’s when I notice Irina and Maks both wince. It’s the tiniest flicker across their gray, undead faces. But it’s there. They can feel the pain I do. Rhett seems to notice too.

  “Keep the sword,” Rhett says, and pulls a slim, black box from his pocket. “See this? It’s an alarm. My unit is coming and you two won’t make it out of here alive.”

  “I guess we’re not done after all,” Maks tells me, and runs out the door with his sister.

  Rhett looks back at me. The corners of my vision are dark, but I focus on his face. I remember him better now. At the hospital, soft and kind. Then, his voice in the alley and at headquarters. I can see him struggle between going after Maks and staying with me.

  He stays.

  Rhett groans as he lets himself collapse and take stock of his injuries. His nose bleeds freely from Maks’s sucker punch, and he presses the back of his hand to his nostrils to stop the flow. The skin over the ridge of his nose is split open and bruised around the bone.

  I crawl over to him.

  “Stop moving. You’re barely alive,” Rhett says. His voice is a deep, angry thread in the ringing in my ears.

  I don’t know much about hunters, but I’m sure they don’t like when they get knocked to the ground by a member of the undead. He scoops me up and carries me into the kitchen, setting me down on the marble island. The cool stone is refreshing on my hot skin.

  “I’ll be right back.” He hops on his good foot and stalks off toward the bathroom.

  I assess my injuries with a weak pulse of magic. My left shoulder is dislocated from the impact against Rhett and the wall, though it would have been worse if I’d hit the stone floor. There’s a warm trickle of blood running down my temple. I touch it with heavy, trembling fingers. It’s a small relief that only the skin was broken when I slammed into the wall. I press my hand on my abdomen, where the injury that was healing has reversed again. Blood soaks through my cotton shirt. The skin around the stitches is hot and I’m sure if I look, I’ll see it’s splitting open again.

  I pat down my pockets for my phone, but remember it’s plugged in the surveillance room at headquarters. Rhett’s heavy boots announce his return before I can see him turn the corner. There’s a first aid kit in his hands.

  “What’s that going to do? Sinmago medicine doesn’t work on my kind.” I ask, laughing even though it hurts.

  “Yes, but bandages will stop the bleeding until help gets here. I can’t exactly carry you in this condition on the subway.”

  “How far away is your unit?”

  He scoffs and pulls out the black device he showed Maks. He flicks the top off and pulls down on the wheel, igniting a small blue flame. I string together a series of curses at him.

  “I’m glad our lives depended on your bluffing.” I lean my head back, dizziness taking hold of my sight. “Is letting people get away what the Knights of Lavant do best?”

  “Look at me,” he says, voice deep and commanding. “Help is coming. All hunters have tracker implants. They’ll come for me.”

  “That seems wrong somehow.” I try to breathe through the new swell of pain. “I need to get back to my family. They can heal me.”

  “Don’t close your eyes. Not yet.”

  I curse him because it’s the only thing that feels good. “If I have a concussion, it’s because of you.”

  He opens the
kit and riffles through Band-Aids and gauze pads. “You’re the one who ran off to find your precious zombie boyfriend.”

  “You tried to arrest me.” I pull my hand away from his.

  “Lula, please.” He takes hold of my wrists softly. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  My heart is racing too fast and I want to throw up and pass out and cry. But he’s the only one here and even if I can’t trust him, I at least know he wants to put an end to this.

  “Fine,” I say.

  Rhett works quickly, cleaning my wounds with alcohol and peroxide. He bandages up what he can, but I need more. I need my family.

  “Are you really a nurse?”

  “All the Knights of Lavant receive medical field training.” The muscles on his face relax and a smile accentuates his sharp cheekbones. This close, I can see how deep his brown eyes are, like I’m being swallowed up by their darkness.

  “Lula?” His voice is frantic. “Stay awake.”

  When I breathe in, I inhale chemical fumes that burn my senses awake. I blink rapidly, willing my eyes to focus on his face. The broken ridge of his nose, the fierce frown of his brow, the raven-black hair that falls over his face when he leans closer to me.

  “Lula, Lula, stop,” he tells me. “Help is on the way.”

  A hot flash racks my body and nausea hits me in an unrelenting wave. I lean forward and get sick all over his lap. Because I haven’t eaten much the last few days, I throw up bile and the remnants of the black-and-silver-flecked elixir I’ve been drinking.

  Rhett audibly groans. Still, he brushes my sweaty hair back and dabs at the corners of my mouth with a cloth.

  “Tell them to hurry,” I say.

  His hands reach for me, and for the second time today, he catches me.

  31

  Silver flecks and kraken’s ink,

  weary bones and orchids pink.

  Shake under a crescent moon to drink.

  —The Art of Poison, Angela Santiago

  Cold air burns my throat and my nasal passages. I’m on a hospital bed surrounded by bright-white lights that force my eyes shut.

  “It takes some adjusting to,” Rhett tells me.

  He’s beside me, dressed in that black leather suit he wore in the alley. I reach out and touch the sleeve. This close, I can see the scale pattern that makes it look like dragon skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I just wanted to see what it felt like,” I say. “I’m not sure if you’re a vigilante or a scuba diver.”

  “Funny,” Frederik says, appearing as if from thin air. “I see why Marty likes you so much.”

  It hurts to laugh, but it’s also satisfying. Maks tried to kill me and would’ve succeeded if it hadn’t been for the hunter who wanted to arrest me. I sit up and take inventory of the various needles hooked into my veins. They’re connected to thin tubes that pump an iridescent liquid into my bloodstream. It makes me feel like an experiment.

  I take note of the black hospital gown I’m wearing and, all at once, feel exposed.

  “Your mother changed your clothes,” Rhett tells me, like he’s reading my mind. “She’s downstairs with everyone else.”

  “Did they heal me?”

  Frederik steps forward, his presence comforting for someone so undead. “They couldn’t. They need to save their strength for the Circle.”

  I wade through my clouded memories. Before Rhett showed up, we were going to summon the High Circle. I glance at the hunter, but he’s avoiding my stare.

  “What is this stuff?” I ask of the liquid.

  “It’s what’s healing you,” Frederik says. He disappears in a blur, then reappears holding a familiar flower in a glass vial filled with glowing blue water. “I’ve been working on a serum that can heal supernatural beings.”

  “In your spare time?” I take the vial from him.

  “I’ve found some time in three hundred years since I took up the endeavor, yes.”

  “It was you,” I say, touching the deep-plum petals. The same flowers are in a vase in my house. “You left the bouquet at my doorstep. The flowers were just like this.”

  Frederik’s dark eyes look confused. Then he looks at Rhett.

  “It wasn’t this flower,” Rhett says, annoyed. Then turns to Frederik and says, “It was the batch you couldn’t use because the soil samples weren’t correct. It was meant to be a gesture of peace before all of this.”

  I pause for a moment over the fact that Rhett left me flowers. But something far more important pushes the thought aside and I instead turn to Frederik. “Could the serum heal the casimuertos?”

  “I’m sorry.” Even for a vampire, he looks somber. “I tried before they escaped. It didn’t take.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” But even I know the answer.

  “I didn’t want to give you false hope. Even now, your body is burning right through the serum. The way the casimuertos are multiplying, it’s taking an unsustainable toll on your body.”

  I banish the spark of hope that was starting to form.

  “I developed it to cure almost any creature on this earth,” he explains. “It affects species differently, of course. It’s a temporary cure. It won’t stop or reverse death. It’s healed your flesh wounds. But there’s still the abnormality here that is completely untouched.”

  He points to the X-rays. Right over my heart is a black, misshapen mass.

  “It’s grown a centimeter in diameter since Rhett brought you back in. It’s nearly the same size as your heart.”

  I touch my chest right over my solar plexus. This is the very thing that tethers me to the casimuertos. When I look at the black mass on the X-ray, I shudder.

  “This whole time I’ve thought that the silver thread that appears is linking me to the casimuertos. But it’s not a link. It’s a parasite.”

  I start to stand, but Rhett stops me.

  “I know you’re upset, but you need to let the serum finish working.”

  “Upset?” I pull the tubes out and shimmering liquid spills down my arm. “The city is crawling with an undead swarm that I raised. The goddess of death is between realms and only I can break her out. On top of that, my ex-boyfriend just tried to kill me. So tell me, Rhett, how upset am I?”

  “I just—”

  Frederik presses his hand on Rhett’s chest. Rhett tries to push forward but the vampire is freakishly strong.

  “Now, take me to my family. I need to speak with Alex.”

  “As you wish,” Frederik says. He leaves a plain, black shirt and jeans on the exam table, and they wait for me outside.

  I dress quickly, giving one last look at the X-ray of my chest. This leech—it’s impervious to magic and science because it was born out of death. And I know the only way to get rid of it.

  I follow the vampire and the hunter through a long, narrow hallway. The florescent lights above flicker in time to our steps, and the walls tremble as if an earthquake is hitting us. Then we hear yelling.

  Frederik opens a door, and I see my family gathered around.

  “Alex!” I run up to where her hand is pressed against a glass wall.

  I snap my head around to look at Frederik. “You locked my sister up?”

  “She couldn’t contain her magic,” McKay says, standing behind the control panels.

  “Let her out!” I shout.

  “She’s been like this for hours,” Rose says.

  I run up to Rhett and shove him hard. There’s a flicker of shock on his face as he stumbles backward, but he catches himself quickly.

  “We had no choice but to contain her,” he shouts back. “She attacked me. Besides, this isn’t jail. It’s a time-out unit. The real jail is in the Hudson River.”

  “Let her out,” I say. “We need her.” I need her.

  �
�It’s hard to convince me that you’re willing to work with us when your sister is trying to fry us.”

  “Why do we have to convince you?” I ask. I mean, he did technically save me and bring me back. But that doesn’t give him the right to do this. “We protect our magic.”

  “Tell her to kill the lightning, and I’ll let her out,” Rhett says. “We’re on the same side.”

  “What’s the magic word?” I ask.

  He takes a deep breath and mutters, “Please.”

  I go to the glass wall keeping Alex contained. I press my hands on it and she lines her palms with mine.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, dodging one of her own lightning bolts that bounces from wall to wall. “I can’t stop it, Lula.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, and I can’t help but glance back at the hunter. “He tried to help with Maks but he got away. I need you, Ale. Please, you know how to contain your power.”

  Alex takes a few steps back. She stands in the center of the small room and holds her hands out. Dozens of bolts bounce off the walls, leaving behind giant burn marks. She closes her eyes and inhales until the lights stop flickering and the walls stop shaking and there is only stillness.

  “Thank goodness. The electrocuted look does not work for me,” McKay says, and punches in a code. The glass wall slides open with a whoosh.

  I run in to hug her, not caring that I get a shock of static when I do. Her body relaxes against mine, and when she holds me, I start to shake. She smooths down my hair and rubs a hand on my back.

  I wipe at the tears on my face. My entire life I’ve watched my mother hold back her emotions. I wanted to be like her. Strong. Resilient. Like steel made flesh. I hated crying. But I’m not like her. My strength is different from my mom’s. It’s different from my sisters’ too. And maybe that’s okay because everything I’ve done has led me back to the place where I belong—with my family.

  I steady myself and say, “I’m ready to call on the High Circle.”

  Dad pulls on the whiskers of his mustache. “They would never come to this place.”