Maybe thinking about where Alex was sleeping wasn’t such a good idea. They’d only been able to share one night together, but it still had been the most important night of Caitlin’s life. She wanted to be with him, to have him hold her close so she could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest, to know he was there to keep her safe. As much as she wanted those things, she knew she wasn’t crazy enough to slip out of her bed and pad down the hallway to be with him. She wouldn’t leave Danica — what if her friend woke up in the middle of the night and didn’t know where she was, or had nightmares or something? Besides, Alex’s parents were right across the hall. Caitlin knew she had to stay put, as much as she resented being here in this narrow bed when she could be lying next to him instead.
She stared up into the darkness and felt tears slip down her cheeks.
What if that single night she and Alex had shared turned out to be the only one they would ever have?
* * *
“I hate this,” Angela said. They were all gathered in the living room of Maya’s home, waiting for Miguel and Jack to show up with the three warlocks in tow. The McAllister prima had declined a seat and was pacing nervously in front of the fireplace. “I didn’t sign up to be judge and jury and executioner all at the same time.”
Connor had been standing nearby, and he came over and took her hands in his, thus making her stop her nervous pacing. Seeing them together, Alex couldn’t help experiencing a twinge of jealousy. Not because he wanted to be with Angela; he knew Caitlin was the girl of his heart, even if circumstances did seem to be conspiring to keep them apart. It was just that Connor and Angela seemed so right together, so comfortable with one another. She held her husband’s hands and looked up into his eyes, and her entire frame seemed to relax slightly.
The last time Alex had seen her, Angela had been just a girl, slightly too thin and nearly pretty, without a lot of confidence in herself. Now she was still slender but had filled out, and some sort of alchemy had turned the half-pretty girl he’d met into a very lovely woman. Was that a consequence of being with Connor, or would Angela have turned out that way no matter what?
Alex supposed it didn’t matter at this point. She wasn’t destined to be his, and the woman he did want, who sat on the sofa on the other side of the room, sandwiched between her parents, might as well have been on the moon for all he could reach her. Tricia McAllister had her daughter’s same rich copper hair, although with a few streaks of gray around her face, and normally she probably would have been a very pretty woman. Now, though, she was frowning, her mouth set. On the other side of their daughter, Richard McAllister, tall and brown-haired, looked equally as grim. It didn’t seem as if either of them was too concerned about Angela’s scruples regarding Matías’ punishment.
Apparently there had been some talk about the other McAllister elders coming down with them, but then the Wilcoxes would have had to send envoys as well. It also sounded as if Marie had wanted to put in her two cents regarding the situation, although since she hadn’t really been that much help in locating Roslyn and Danica, Alex didn’t much see the point of Marie being present. In the end, though, it had been decided that the three clan leaders — Angela and Connor and Luz — would handle the situation. Just as well, Alex reflected, since the living room was already crowded enough, what with Caitlin’s parents and his own father being there, too.
Danica’s parents had come down with the rest of the contingent, but had collected their daughter and continued on to Tucson so they could retrieve whatever of her things were still left at the condo, along with the Land Rover that had been parked there since the girls first arrived in Tucson. They’d looked shaken when they saw their daughter’s condition firsthand, but they hadn’t wanted to stay to see punishment meted out.
“It’s better if I don’t see those bastards in person,” Joseph Wilcox had growled. “Because otherwise I’d be tempted to wring their necks.”
Now, Connor shook his head. “I don’t think any of us signed up for this,” he told Angela. “Problem is, we have to deal with it, one way or another.”
“I know.” She looked past him to Luz. “I don’t suppose you have any advice?”
“None beyond what I’ve already given you.” Dressed in a black sheath dress, her hair in a low bun on the back of her neck, Alex’s mother looked more composed than she had the day before, but still tired. He hoped that after Matías and his cronies were taken care of, she might finally have the time to grieve for her mother.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Angela said. She fidgeted with the pendant she wore, a pretty thing of turquoise and what looked like smoky quartz. Unlike Luz, she was wearing jeans, but with a simple wrap top and boots. Too heavy for Phoenix weather, really, but they’d come straight down from Flagstaff.
A knock came at the door. “I’ll get it,” Alex said. It made sense. He was closest. And anyway, he was curious to see how the three warlocks had fared while being watched over by Miguel and Jack.
When he opened the door, he noticed at once that, besides the two men he’d been expecting, his cousin Oscar stood outside as well. Oscar de la Paz was a detective with the Tucson P.D., and Alex didn’t have to think too hard about why his other cousins would have enlisted Oscar’s help.
As for the three captured warlocks, well, they weren’t looking all that good. Tomas and Jorge seemed to have shrunk in height, and still seemed to be unable to meet anyone’s eyes directly. Matías did stare angrily at Alex, but the effect was marred by the two black eyes he was currently sporting. Whether they were a result of smacking into Zoe’s car, or whether one or more of his captors had decided he needed a little roughing-up, Alex didn’t know for sure. Either way, Matías wasn’t in any condition to be attracting any more unsuspecting females.
“They’re waiting for you,” Alex told his cousins, and they marched the three young men into the living room, then stopped with them in the middle of the space.
He wasn’t psychic or empathic, but Alex could still feel the wave of fury that radiated from the watching witches and warlocks as they looked upon the trio who had caused so much havoc. Angela had still been holding hands with Connor, but in that moment she let go and turned toward the three captives. Her green eyes blazed pure emerald, and her pretty mouth pulled into a flat line.
“Tomas Aguirre, Jorge Aguirre…Matías Escobar…your crimes have put you beyond the pale. No witch or wizard has dared to lift a hand against their own for generations.”
Well, except maybe Connor’s dear departed brother, Alex thought with some irony. Although in that case, he never intended to hurt Angela, only make her his own. Even he wouldn’t have stooped to the sort of foul magic Matías was using.
She hesitated, and looked up at Connor. Looking very grim himself, he said, “And because you have committed crimes that haven’t been seen for generations, we thought it only fitting that you should suffer a punishment that hasn’t been handed down for generations.”
Jorge and Tomas maintained their hangdog looks, but Matías glared at the prima and primus out of his bruised eyes, his mouth curling in a sneer.
“You can’t do anything to us.”
Luz spoke up then. “Actually, they can. I’m surprised word didn’t get around about what can happen when you go up against a prima and primus working together.”
For the first time, Matías appeared frightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he fought to maintain his current defiant stance. His two companions only exchanged puzzled glances. Obviously, they didn’t have a clue as to what Alex’s mother was talking about.
Angela said, her voice soft but her tone cutting, “You see, we all agreed that you should be punished for what you’ve done, but a civilian prison isn’t much good when it comes to keeping someone with witch blood locked up. However, if your powers were taken from you….”
Matías shook his head. “You can’t do that.” The words were defiant, but Alex couldn’t help detecting a note of wor
ry in them.
“Oh, I think we can.” She looked past Matías to Jack Sandoval. “Detective, why don’t you let them know what they’re facing?”
“Up to ten years each for kidnapping, but that’s moot, since they’re all on the hook for first-degree murder. Life, or the death penalty. I think I know what the judge is going to go for, once the particulars of Roslyn McAllister’s murder come out.” Jack didn’t seem to take any pleasure in saying this. Maybe it was because of Tricia McAllister’s white, stricken face. Roslyn hadn’t been just a distant cousin, but her niece.
“I didn’t kill no one — ” Tomas began, and Jack overrode him, saying,
“Doesn’t matter. You were an accessory to first-degree murder — a murder that followed a kidnapping, which means special circumstances. You’re equally on the hook.”
Looking pale, the warlock subsided, but Matías wasn’t so ready to back down.
“You got nothing on us, pendejo.”
“Well, about that — ” He glanced over at Oscar, who’d remained silent during the whole exchange. “Want to tell him what you ‘got’ on him?”
“With pleasure.” Oscar stepped forward. He was ten or so years older than Jack, with tired dark eyes that had seen too much. “We followed up the lead Miguel gave us and got a warrant for the address associated with the mail drop rented in Tucson. When we searched that residence, we found Roslyn McAllister’s body.”
Tricia let out a small moan, and Caitlin reached over and took her mother’s hand in hers, while on the other side, Caitlin’s father dropped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. For herself, Caitlin looked pale but composed. Then again, she’d had a little more time to come to grips with her cousin’s death.
Luz and Angela and Connor remained silent, waiting, while Matías clenched his hands at his sides and seemed as if he wanted nothing more than to lash out at all of them. But because he was surrounded and outnumbered, he stayed where he was, seething, while the two other warlocks appeared as if they were ready to have the earth swallow them up. Better that than face the combined wrath of the McAllister prima and the Wilcox primus…not to mention the stern justice of the civilian legal system.
After pausing a few seconds, probably to let everyone regain what they could of their composure, Oscar went on, “We also found a quantity of spilled blood and what appeared to be some kind of ritual knife with Roslyn’s blood on it, along with fingerprints that we’re certain will match those of our perpetrators here. We’ll find out for sure when we take them in, but at the moment there’s sufficient evidence for an arrest.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Angela said. Her gaze shifted back to the three captive warlocks. “You abused your powers to kidnap three innocent girls. Caitlin was lucky enough to get away, but even her escape wasn’t enough to shock any sense into you.”
Matías shot Caitlin a baleful glance, but she stared back at him, unmoving, and after a second or two he looked away. The interaction surprised Alex a little, but he realized Caitlin had grown into her strength the past few days. She wasn’t as easily cowed as Matías probably thought she would be.
“And because you abused your powers,” Connor went on, “you have no right to them any longer. You can see what it feels like, being the prey from now on.” His eyes met Angela’s, and she nodded.
They joined hands then, and the air in the room suddenly felt dense, charged with electricity, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. Alex could actually see the hairs on his arms standing up. It was difficult to breathe. The blood seemed to pound in his temples.
Still with the fingers of their near hands entwined, Connor and Angela raised their free hands, palms facing outward. And then it was as if some sort of pale light or energy began to drift out of the three warlocks, knotting itself into a heavy thread that connected with the prima’s and primus’ fingers. They both made a sudden tugging motion.
The crack! that followed was sharp as lightning, and Alex couldn’t help wincing. In that same moment, all three of the captive warlocks let out a trio of unholy shrieks, further assaulting his eardrums. They sank to their knees, moaning, while Angela calmly caught that thread of light and squeezed it in her palm, where it seemed to disappear.
“It is done,” Luz said.
None of the warlocks seemed able to move from where they were crouched on the faded Persian rug that covered the floor. Alex looked on in disbelief. Was it really possible? Had Angela and Connor combined their powers somehow to permanently remove Jorge’s and Tomas’ and Matías’ magic?
Then Angela put a hand to her forehead and winced slightly, as if the effort had taken something out of her as well. “I didn’t think that was actually going to work.”
“But it did,” Luz said. “They are harmless now — well, at least as harmless as men with souls black as theirs can be.” She looked to Oscar and Jack. “They’re all yours now.”
“And we know what to do with them,” Jack said. “I’m just sorry we can’t prosecute them for what they did to Maya, but there’s no evidence we can present in a civilian court.”
Alex watched as his mother’s eyes grew cloudy with unshed tears. “I understand. It’s enough that they’ll face justice for Roslyn’s murder and the kidnappings. They’ll never walk as free men after this.”
It said something for how much the de-magicking — for lack of a better word — had traumatized the three warlocks that none of them said anything or even reacted as Miguel, Oscar, and Jack took them by their arms and hauled them to their feet, then pushed them out of the living room. Alex supposed they were about to get a quick one-way trip to the Tucson police department’s central station.
Even so, he hardly felt happy about it. Yes, they’d been caught and would be going away forever, it looked like, but that wouldn’t bring Roslyn or his grandmother back, wouldn’t fix the glassy, confused expression in Danica’s eyes. So much mayhem, and for what?
He couldn’t help looking across the room at Caitlin. She still sat quietly next to her mother, but her gaze caught his, and she gave him the slightest of nods, as if to say, This isn’t over.
The faintest flicker of hope stirred in his chest. Maybe he would be able to steal a chance to speak with her before her parents spirited her away.
It took some waiting, but while Tricia McAllister was speaking quietly with Alex’s mother and father, and Connor and Angela with Caitlin’s father, Caitlin slipped over to Alex and whispered, “Kitchen.”
So he followed her there, wondering what she was going to say. As it turned out, she didn’t say anything at all at first, but instead took his hands and pulled him toward her so she could kiss him soundly, a kiss that seemed to turn him all to heat and flame, despite the shocking show of power he’d just witnessed.
“I have to go with them,” she said at last, after she pulled away. “And there’s school and everything, but — ”
“But you still want to see me?” he asked, wondering if that was being too blunt.
“Of course I still want to see you.” The way she uttered the words made it sound as if their being together was so natural, she didn’t even know why he was questioning it. “That is, if you want to see me. Maybe I was assuming — ”
The only possible response was to reach over and bring her against him, to cover her mouth with his and show her that she wasn’t assuming at all. Or maybe she was, but that was all right, because he’d been assuming the exact same thing.
As for the rest, well…he figured they’d work it out as they went along.
20
The sunlight felt far too bright, far too merciless, for such a solemn occasion. Caitlin couldn’t help wondering how much hotter that same sun was down in Tucson, where Alex had gone home. But no, she shouldn’t be thinking about Alex right now. This was the time for the McAllisters to say goodbye to Roslyn. Never mind that Caitlin wanted Alex with her so badly, wanted to hang on to him and feel his reassuring arm around her waist as she made her last farewell to the lighthearted gi
rl who had been both her cousin and her friend. He’d had to make his own goodbyes to his grandmother just the day before, and his family needed him with them to share their grief. Both he and Caitlin had realized their families wouldn’t understand the bond that had grown between them so quickly, would have thought them selfish to insist on being together when their clans needed them more. And so they’d reluctantly agreed to stay apart until things settled down, although every day away from him was its own kind of agony, its own measure of grief.
The McAllisters had gathered in the quiet corner of the Cottonwood cemetery where all the members of their clan were laid to rest, and stood quietly as the white coffin with its coverlet of pale pink roses and soft white lilies was lowered to the ground. Well, most of them were quiet. Cousin Lysette, Roslyn’s mother, was sobbing, handkerchief pressed to her mouth, and Roslyn’s sister Jenny was sniffling, her big blue-gray eyes — the eyes she’d shared with Roslyn — filled with tears. Standing next to her was her brother Adam, his arm around Mason’s waist as she looked on, her expression stricken. Caitlin somehow knew that Mason was thinking about how that could have been her own sister Danica being lowered to the hard reddish earth, and how she was selfishly glad that Danica had somehow been spared.
Caitlin didn’t really think that Mason was being selfish. At least one person had survived Matías’ hellish plans, so why shouldn’t be Mason be glad about that while at the same time grieving the young sister-in-law she’d lost?
Adam’s face was tight, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Caitlin could see his jaw working, but he obviously didn’t intend to let go of the tight rein he had on his emotions. He and Roslyn had always been close, closer than they were with their older sister Jenny, who was three years older, while Roslyn and Adam were barely a year apart.
Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5) Page 27
