“She’s my wife,” the man screamed, his face contorted with rage. “You stay out of our business!”
Layla looked at the children, helplessly watching their mother suffer. She boiled with red-hot with anger at the sight. “I don’t think so,” she growled under her breath.
Rosa gasped, struggling to breathe, and the angry man raised the knife to her throat. “You think you can just take my kids away? I’ll kill you first!”
Ramon held up his hands, coming a step closer. “Whoa… Take it easy Jose. Nobody needs to get hurt.”
“Shut up cop!” Jose screamed, spittle flying. Just seeing Ramon brought his white-hot rage up to a new vibrancy. “He thrust the knife towards Ramon. “This is all your fault!”
Layla went ice cold, and she rushed out of the shadows to get between Ramon and the blade. “Stop this,” she told Jose in a low voice, stepping closer to make eye contact. “Stop this right now.”
He screamed a string of curses at her in Spanish, but the language barrier was no problem. He was operating on pure, raw emotion, and that was a language that Layla was fluent in. Once her face was fully illuminated by the porch lights he couldn’t seem to look away, and she knew she had him.
“Layla!” Ramon rushed forward to pull her back, but Jose had already lowered the knife. His arms went limp with a sudden overwhelming fear that short-circuited his ability to think about anything else. Rosa wrenched herself away with a sob, running to the porch where a group of women were gathered protectively around the twins.
The big man stood shaking, and Layla stepped in closer for the kill. “Jose?” she spoke to him, her voice gentle. When he met her eyes she sent him another powerful blast of bone-melting fear, watching with satisfaction as his face twisted in horror.
“You’re going to leave her alone now, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.
He nodded mutely, all the blood draining out of his face. The knife clattered to the pavement and she bent down to pick it up. When she turned around all eyes were on her, and her stomach dropped. In the heat of the moment she’d gotten carried away, and now they’d seen everything.
Ramon had seen everything.
She handed the knife over to him, her voice small and shaky, “Uhm… Do you think you could take me home now?”
He nodded slowly, dark eyes full of wonder. A police car pulled into the driveway, and Layla stood apart from everyone else, watching as Ramon went to speak with them. A meek and fearful Jose was cuffed and taken away. The young people went back to their dancing like nothing had happened, but the older women were somber, rallying around Rosa and the twins, ushering them back inside the house.
Ramon returned to her side. “I’m going to check on Rosa… Then we can go… Okay?”
He went inside after everyone else, and Layla watched from the porch as his grandmother pulled him aside on his way back out, speaking to him with urgency. They both looked up to see her watching.
Great, Layla thought, as if things weren’t bad enough already.
When they were finally alone in his car he asked her the question she’d been standing there dreading, “What just happened there?”
“I don’t know.”
He twisted in his seat to face her. “Seriously… How did you get him to give up his weapon? How did you know that he’d cave?”
“I– I’m good at reading people.”
He looked at her with curiosity and amazement, and she braced herself for a barrage of uncomfortable questions. She heaved a sigh, winding up to deliver a fog of confusion followed by a blast of acquiescence. It was her specialty, a one-two punch that never failed to change the subject.
He put his warm hand on hers, making her forget all about it. “You were so brave,” he said, his eyes shining with admiration. Then he said something that surprised her. “You should do social work. You’d be really good at it.”
They drove along in silence for a while, and she could see him start to get a little anxious, glancing over at her frequently. “Hey… I’m not really ready to call it a night… Do you want to stop for a cup of coffee or something?”
She wasn’t ready to go home either, and it surprised her. “Sure… That sounds good.”
He drove to a nearby diner, and they took a booth in a far corner. She ordered tea, and Ramon watched with fascination as she prepared her cup with all the precision of a geisha. He scrutinized her like she was a painting in a museum, studying every little detail like he was trying to commit her to memory.
“What?” she asked, looking up to meet his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“You’re just… I don’t know.”
Her brows knit together, because she found him perplexing too. She’d never met anyone so completely genuine, so comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t seem to have a deceptive bone in his whole body, but he still made her more nervous than she should be. She didn’t quite know what to make of it either.
“What did your grandmother say about me?” she asked, changing the subject.
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Nothing important.”
“She was giving me dirty looks all day.”
“Don’t mind my abuelita, she’s old school.” He laughed. “She’s got all these weird superstitions. She said when she first saw you that she thought you were a Bruja Negra.”
“A what?”
“A black witch. You know, black magic and all that stuff.”
She laughed a little nervous laugh, imagining what Cali would have to say about that.
“But don’t worry,” he said with a twinkle in his beautiful eyes. “She says she was wrong at first. Now she thinks that you’re a Bruja Blanca.” She looked at him blankly, and he added, “A white witch.”
Layla looked at him with outrage, “I can’t help it that I’m so pale.”
He burst into his hearty laugh, throwing his head back without giving a single thought as to how he looked to other people. Layla looked all around them nervously, but she was starting to get used to it, and as his laughter subsided she grew increasingly indignant.
Her face clouded over with anger. “That’s not very nice. Do you think I like being all… all… freckled and… and… pasty?!”
“No… you don’t understand…” he said, wiping his eyes. He collected himself, explaining that his grandmother grew up in a small village in Mexico. “People there believed in witches. Good ones and bad ones. Black witches cast spells for mean or jealous people, and white witches use their magic to protect people from evil.”
“Oh…” she said, embarrassed. “Sorry.” Then her face grew grave. “Do you believe in witches?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He leaned in closer with a playful smile. “Only beautiful ones with cute freckles,” he said, making her cheeks burn self-consciously. She scoffed and busied herself stirring her tea again, pretending she wasn’t terribly aware of his eyes following her every move.
“My grandmother warned me about something else.” Her mismatched eyes snapped up to meet his, worried. He thought they were the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. “She said that you looked like you were high maintenance.”
When she realized he was teasing her she forced a smile. When he started laughing she couldn’t help but join in. She was unaccustomed to being around someone with his jolly nature, but it felt good to participate in his happiness.
He stopped laughing to regard her warmly. “Rosa wanted me to tell you that she appreciated your help.”
Layla nodded. “It was no big deal.”
“Yes it was. You made all the difference. I think I was only making him angrier.”
“Why is he so mad at you?” she asked, remembering his surge of rage.
“I helped her get away from him.” He sighed. “Rosa jumped into things with Jose much too quickly. By the time she realized what he was really like she had the twins… She hid his abuse from the family for a long time.”
“What abuse?” Layla asked.
“First he started keeping her away from her friends and family. Then we found out he was hitting her.” His jaw clenched with protective anger.
“That’s terrible!”
“Yeah. He’s a real control freak, and he flips out when he drinks. He’ll feel real bad tomorrow and apologize to everyone, and he makes you want to believe him. Rosa always forgave him until the twins got old enough to see what was going on. She doesn’t want them to grow up around that.”
Layla nodded, wondering why people had to be so cruel to one another. “That’s good.”
“I helped her move into her own place and file a restraining order. You should have seen him when he realized she was leaving him. He went nuts. Ask any cop… Domestic arguments are the most dangerous calls you’ll ever get.” He scratched the back of head and chuckled, “We sure could have used your witchcraft that day.”
“Very funny,” she rolled her eyes at him.
“Enough about him,” he said. “What’s the story with your family? It sounds like your father was real strict and everything.”
Her voice went cold, “The professor is not our father. He was our guardian.”
He nodded, “So what happened to your parents?”
“Our mother died when we were little.”
“How?”
She squirmed a little in her seat, finally looking him squarely in the eye. “She killed herself.”
He flushed pale blue with empathy, but he kept up his questions, “I’m sorry… What about your father?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I used to believe he was dead too, but now I don’t know.”
“Wait a minute… How did this professor guy end up raising you?”
He was genuinely curious, and surprisingly, Layla found herself talking about things she’d never discussed with anyone before. She told him that her mother was an orphan who had gotten involved in a research project with Professor Reed, and had signed over custody of her twins to him. She explained that when she found out about her grandmother’s connection to the land she was driven to try and re-capture something from the past.
“Everyone else thinks I’m crazy to want to re-build the old house,” she said. “But it feels like I should. I don’t know what else to do.”
“I understand,” he told her. “History is important.”
She described her fruitless attempts to identify her paternal father, and he wanted to help.
“What did the professor say about him?”
“He never talked about it.”
“He must know something!”
“It seems likely,” she said grimly.
“You never asked?”
“He didn’t like talking about her. I didn’t even know what really happened to my mother until Cali found us. Then we kinda… left in a hurry. I haven’t seen him since.”
“You should ask him.”
She shuddered involuntarily. “I’d like to, but don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Michael and I left San Francisco on bad terms, and everyone thinks I should just let it go.”
“Do you want to let it go?” he asked gently.
“No,” she replied. “But I’m afraid to go see him alone.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Her eyes flew open wide as she considered the implications. “He’d never try anything if I showed up with a cop… I mean, a policeman.”
He looked surprised. “What do you think he would try?”
“Nothing,” she blurted out too fast, adding, “It’s just… He might try and get me to stay.”
“I’m off tomorrow if you want to take a trip to the city then.”
“You’d really do that for me?”
He leaned forward to look into her eyes with intensity, “It would be my pleasure.”
They made plans to meet for breakfast and head out for San Francisco first thing in the morning. Satisfied and hopeful, Layla relaxed, leaned back in the booth, letting the stress of the day melt away into the warm colors that he kept washing over her. She yawned, turning away and covering her mouth.
“I should get you home,” he said.
She nodded. She was exhausted, and her feet ached from the new shoes she was wearing. When they got to the car they drove along in a comfortable silence, and Layla actually found herself drifting off, fighting sleep. Before she knew it, they were pulled up in front of her house. Ramon cut the engine and turned to face her.
She blinked a few times, stretching, “Ramon?”
“Yeah?” he said, leaning in closer.
“Would you bring your gun tomorrow?”
His color changed to a shocked yellow. “Why?”
She sat up straight, now fully awake. “No reason. Nothing. Nevermind. Thank you for inviting me,” she said, suddenly formal. She offered her hand for a shake.
Ramon took it, and held on. “So, are you dating that Conrad guy, or what?”
“Why?” she asked, feeling the sweet emotion flowing through his hand. It was a strange sensation, and she pulled back suddenly.
“Because if I had a girl like you, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near a guy like me.”
“What kind of guy are you?”
“One who’s interested in you.”
He saw her eyebrows arch up, but he couldn’t tell what she thought about it. There was something about her that was powerfully alluring to him, something strange that he couldn’t quite figure out. She seemed so fragile, and yet she made him nervous. She was both weak and strong, smart and stupid, sophisticated and naive all at the same time. She was a mystery that he knew he could spend a lifetime trying to solve.
She looked into his searching eyes, so warm and dark, so completely sincere. “Can I … Can I touch your hair?” she asked.
She expected him to laugh at her, but he nodded yes, scooting closer to incline his head. She reached up and stroked the crown, expecting it to feel rough, like a bristle brush.
“It’s soft!” she gasped, surprised. Ramon smiled and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. She gave in to a sudden impulse and bent down to plant a kiss on his lips, pulling back to look at him with shocked eyes. He was as surprised as she was by her bold move, but before he could react she bolted out of the car and raced to the front door. She’d just gotten it open when he called out to her.
“Layla?”
She paused, “Yes?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
~
Layla tossed and turned in bed that night, realizing that Ramon’s grandmother was right. She really was sort of like a witch, whatever that meant. Unfortunately, she’d been a black witch all of her life. She’d used her ability to do the bidding of evil men, and it had brought bad fortune down upon her and Michael.
Today she’d used her synesthesia to protect the innocent, and her powers had been stronger than ever before. If she had to be a witch, she thought, she could at least try and be a white one. Cali was right, she could find a way to use her peculiar talents for good. Maybe she could even wipe the slate clean someday, erasing all the wrong she had done.
“Bruja Blanca,” she said out loud, and something surprising occurred to her. She’d just spent the entire day with Ramon, and although she’d come close, she’d managed to show some restraint.
She hadn’t changed his colors once.
~
Chapter Fourteen
SAN FRANCISCO
~
“Good morning,” Layla announced her presence as she entered the kitchen.
Cali was crouched down, checking on something in the oven. She looked up with a smile, “Hey Layla. You’re just in time for breakfast.”
“Thanks anyway, but I’m on my way out the door.”
Caledonia scrutinized her cousin with all-seeing eyes. “You look nice today. Where are you headed?”
Layla paused for a moment before replying. She knew how strongly Cali was opposed to her going to visit t
he professor. “Uhm… I’m going to meet Ramon for breakfast.”
Cali narrowed her eyes, noticing how edgy her cousin was. “I take it things went well yesterday? We heard you get in late last night…”
Layla just smiled, rummaging in her bag for her car keys. Cali came closer to look her in the eyes, “What are you going to do about Conrad?”
“I don’t know,” Layla bit her lip. “I’m not sure.”
Cali looked surprised, “Are you going to keep seeing him?”
“Uhm... I told him I’d go to a thing with him next weekend.”
“You’re going to date both of them?”
“I’m not really dating Ramon… It’s more like we’re just good friends.”
Caledonia looked dubiously at her cousin. “Whatever you say.”
Layla’s cheeks flushed bright pink. She’d gone from having no suitors to having two at the same time, and as much as she told herself that she was only bringing Ramon along as a bodyguard, she was nearly as nervous about seeing him again as she was at the prospect of facing Teddy.
She hurried out of the house before Caledonia could weasel any more information out of her, fully aware of her inability to hide anything from her perceptive cousin. When she arrived in the heart of the nearby town she parked and hurried into the diner. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Ramon’s smiling face beaming up at her.
“Good morning,” he said, standing while she slid into the booth across from him. “You look nice today.” He was dressed casually in jeans and a pullover, while she was wearing a business-like skirt and blazer over a colorful silken blouse with a ruffled neckline. Her hair was pinned neatly into a low bun, and she stood tall in high heeled, open-toed stilettos.
“Thank you,” she replied solemnly, “As do you.”
He handed her a menu, waving for the waitress. “Tea?” he asked her.
“Yes please,” she replied.
They made small talk over breakfast, focusing on the weather and Layla’s building plans. When he insisted on paying the bill, she insisted on driving to the city. “Are you ready?” he asked her as they got up to go.
The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect) Page 12
