No, it wasn’t my way. Back in that tense meeting with the elders, Boyd had argued that I was a mother, and so I shouldn’t be taking any chances. But I had taken a chance before, going into the spirit world to attempt to break the curse that had loomed over the Wilcox clan for more than a century, so I could ensure some kind of a future for the children I carried. I’d taken that risk because I knew otherwise I was dooming the twins to a life where the curse still reigned, where neither of them would have a happy future.
And that was why I knew I had to do the same thing now, and defy my clan’s elders. It wasn’t a curse I faced, but a dark warlock whose powers still hadn’t been fully measured. However, I faced much the same outcome now — if we couldn’t figure out a way to defeat Joaquin Escobar, then the twins and the child I carried and everyone in all the Arizona witch clans would be facing a very uncertain future. True, he’d only come here to kidnap Levi and had then retreated to his safe space in Southern California, but how long would it take before he decided that the territory he’d stolen wasn’t enough, that he wanted to control the entire southwestern part of the country?
I couldn’t take that risk. As much as it would have been nice to use my pregnancy as an excuse to hide myself away and let others do the fighting for me, I didn’t have that luxury. On my own, I was pretty strong, thanks to the prima power that had passed to me when Great-Aunt Ruby died. Joined with Connor, though…then I was something the world hadn’t yet seen.
“All right,” I said. “We know what we need to do…but how do we do it?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Connor pushed a lock of hair back over my shoulder, as if he knew I needed him to give me some kind of reassurance, even if it was something as simple as that brief touch. “Without Levi, we’ll have to revise our strategy, since we can’t just pop in there and pop back out.”
“Are you sure we can’t?” I asked, suddenly sitting up straighter. My head was no longer pillowed on Connor’s shoulder, but I didn’t worry about that. I knew I needed to focus. “I mean, we’d never tried taking anyone’s powers away, either, but we managed it with Matías and Jorge and Tomas.”
“That’s not quite the same thing,” Connor replied. His eyes narrowed slightly, though, which told me he wasn’t simply discounting my suggestion, but was thinking it over.
“I know it isn’t, but the only reason we even thought of doling out that kind of punishment was because Marie told us about something similar that happened back before the witch clans even came here to America. We knew it was possible, and so we did it. We know being able to teleport in and out of a place is possible because we’ve seen Levi do it. So we need to try.” I rubbed my hands on the thighs of my jeans, then got up from the couch. “Come on, Connor. The worst that’ll happen is that we’ll just stay here in the living room. We don’t even have to tell anyone about the stupid thing we tried. Okay?”
A pause, and then he nodded and stood as well. “What should we do?”
“Well….” I hesitated as well. Obviously, it wouldn’t make much sense to simply teleport ourselves to some random place. And Levi had said it worked better if he was sending himself to someplace he knew, a location he could visualize in his mind’s eye. “Let’s go to the Flagstaff house. Since we’re here, it’s empty, and if something strange happens and we’re not able to send ourselves back here to Jerome, we can always call Margot and Lucas to give us a ride home. Besides, it would give us a chance to stop in and see the twins.”
Connor seemed to consider this suggestions, one hand rubbing at the stubble on his chin. Despite all the worries weighing on my mind, I couldn’t help but notice how adorably scruffy he looked just then. “That makes sense. This place feels empty without them.”
“I know, but — ”
He held up a hand. “It’s okay, Angela. They’re safer with Lucas and Margot. I get it. But it still hurts to have them away from us.”
How could I argue, when I woke up to that same feeling every day, of our house echoing and lonely because our children weren’t here? But Jerome was much more of a target than Flagstaff, and until this situation was resolved, I wouldn’t feel safe having the twins here. Without responding directly to his remark, I said, “We should probably hold hands. And…let’s try to send ourselves to the kitchen of the Flagstaff house. Sound okay?”
“Sure.” Connor reached out and took my hands in his, held them firmly. Once again I found comfort in the warmth and strength of his fingers, although there wasn’t anything remotely comforting about what we planned to do next.
“Close your eyes,” I said. “Imagine the kitchen. Imagine standing there with me.”
“All right.”
I shut my eyes and pictured the big kitchen of our second home, with its long, gleaming granite counters, the stainless appliances, the tall wine refrigerator…the big window over the sink that looked out onto a stand of pine, even the bird feeder we’d placed outside that window so we could watch the finches and the chickadees and the nuthatches quarrel over who got the choicest seeds.
A strange warmth filled my body, accompanied by a flare of light behind my closed eyelids. While I still could feel Connor’s fingers pressing against mine, it was almost as if that was the only thing in the world, as if the very floor beneath my feet had somehow disappeared. The sensation lasted for less than a second, though, and in the next instant, I found myself standing on solid ground.
Cautiously, I opened my eyes. I was standing in front of a large double stainless sink. Above that sink was a big picture window crowded with pine trees. And sitting on top of a shepherd’s hook that held a box of bird seed — replenished every other day by a Wilcox cousin who was paid fifty dollars a week to make sure the birds didn’t go hungry — was a plump little chickadee, its pert black and white head tilted at an angle as it appeared to be staring right back at me.
Dear Goddess, I thought, feeling a little limp in the knees. We did it.
Connor’s fingers were still entwined with mine. He, too, had opened his eyes, was staring around at the kitchen of our Flagstaff house as if he’d never seen it before. “Holy shit,” he murmured.
“I know,” I said. “It worked.”
He gently let go of me and went to the counter, ran a hand over the granite surface as if he wasn’t quite sure that it was real. “I can’t….” He stopped there, then shook his head. “This is crazy, Angela.”
Was it, though? Connor and I had never done much to push the boundaries of the bond we shared, mostly because we really hadn’t had much need to, except for dealing with Matías Escobar and his crew. Our quiet lives in Jerome didn’t require vast exertions of our shared powers. Now, though….
As I’d said to Connor earlier, desperate times called for desperate measures. And I couldn’t think of a situation more desperate than this one.
“And this was, what, about fifty-five miles?” I asked. “That’s farther than Levi was able to travel.”
“Yes.” He was quiet for a moment, still looking around, almost as if he wasn’t sure that the house wouldn’t dissolve into mist around us. But there it was, solid and secure, spotlessly clean, since no one had been in here recently except our cleaning people. “He got close, with Hayley helping him. Still….”
“I guess we should see if we can get back as easily.” I almost hated to use that word, because I felt as if I was jinxing the two of us before we even tried, but it was true — the whole thing had felt easy. Effortless. And pleasant. Just warmth, and golden light, and Connor’s hands on mine. A blink, and we’d traveled miles and miles.
“Yes, we’d better. To the kitchen, or the living room?”
“Kitchen. I’m starting to get hungry.”
A chuckle, and he came to me and took me by the hands once again. This time, we knew what to do — we both closed our eyes and imagined the kitchen of the house in Jerome, not as spacious as this one, but just as up to date, since I’d had the whole thing remodeled at around the same time we bought the home in Fla
gstaff.
There we were, with the creamy antique white-washed cabinets and the nickel-finished light fixture overhead, the garden with its rosebushes and irises just visible through the window in the side door. I let out a breath. “Well, that answers that question.”
“I guess it does.”
My stomach rumbled. Maybe this kind of effort took a lot of extra calories. Then again, it was nearly one, and we hadn’t eaten yet because of our midday meeting with the elders. I went to the refrigerator and got out the pizza box from Grapes, which still held a few slices. “Pizza?” I asked, opening the box toward Connor.
“Yes, thanks.” He snagged a slice, and I got a piece for myself as well before returning the box to the fridge.
We both ate in silence for a moment. I think we each needed to process what we’d just done, that we now knew we could use the same teleportation talent that Levi possessed.
Which opened up a whole world of possibilities, not all of them pleasant. Now we really didn’t have a reason for not going after Levi — we could be in and out before Joaquin Escobar even knew we were there.
Well, except for the part where we didn’t know exactly in which room Levi was being kept. If he was even in the Santiago house at all. It was possible that Escobar might have moved him, but I kind of doubted that. Had our positions been reversed, I knew I would have wanted to keep my captive close.
“So….” Connor said after he went to retrieve a few glasses from the cupboard and get us some water. “How much do you want to test this?”
I cocked my head at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we can do the same thing that Levi did when he rescued Lucinda — drive within range, then teleport the rest of the way. But we don’t really know how far we can go. Maybe we can go all the way on our own.”
I knew what he was suggesting. Some part of me wanted to protest, just because the thought of being able to send ourselves such a huge distance seemed impossible. With magic, though, it seemed that all things might be possible for us…if we were willing to give it a try.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “But where? It’s not like we know Southern California very well.”
“True,” he replied. “There’s always the beach, though. You know.”
I did. I thought of the blue-gray house that backed right up to the sands in Newport Beach, the house where my mother had lived for a while with my father, Andre Begonie…formerly Wilcox. Of course, she hadn’t known that he was a Wilcox. And when she found out the truth, she left, taking her infant daughter.
The past that Connor and I had traveled to California to find. Now we knew the truth of my origins, but Newport could still prove useful. If we could send ourselves all the way there, then we absolutely could blink ourselves right into the house Joaquin Escobar had stolen from the Santiagos.
“It’s a pretty public place,” I said, knowing even as I spoke that the protest was a feeble one.
“We can come in by that little alley, the one that runs behind the house. Yeah, there’s a chance someone might be driving by at exactly the wrong moment, but I’m willing to take that chance.”
I knew the place. It was secluded, quiet, shielded from the beach and the people who were probably crowding it even now, although the true summer season wouldn’t start for a few more weeks. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s give it a try.”
He put down his water glass and came over to me, grasped my hands once again. “Ready?”
“Ready,” I responded, although I really didn’t know if I was ready. Flashing ourselves up to Flagstaff was one thing. But Newport Beach was five hundred miles away. Even if we managed to get ourselves there, what if we couldn’t make it back? We’d be stuck in basically enemy territory, with no car, no luggage, no nothing.
But Connor had his wallet, which meant he had his bank card with him. That would be enough to get us airline tickets…or would it? Maybe I should go get my I.D. out of my purse, just in case.
However, I didn’t have time to suggest that I should take that precaution, because Connor’s fingers tightened on mine, and I immediately shut my eyes, visualizing the little alleyway with the expensive houses crowding in on both sides, the cool, damp air with its scent of salt, so different from anything I’d experienced growing up in Arizona.
Then from overhead came the sharp, keening cry of seagulls, and a wild salty breeze caught at my loose hair. I opened my eyes to hazy blue-gray skies, saw the house I recognized immediately, even though it had been almost five years since I was last here.
Connor was still holding on to me, but his eyes were open as well, taking in our vastly changed surroundings. When he spoke, his voice was full of wonder. “This is…unbelievable.”
“Well, believe it, because it sure looks like we’re in Newport Beach.” I tugged at his hand. “We’ve come this far — let’s go see the ocean.”
He didn’t protest, but let me lead him along a path that took us to the sand. We both paused to take off our shoes and socks, and then we walked toward the water, the sand cool and fine beneath our feet.
The beach was fairly crowded, but nothing like it would be in a week, when people would swarm here for Memorial Day weekend. Even though Connor and I weren’t really dressed for beach-going — he had on jeans and a T-shirt, while I wore jeans as well, only with a peasant top — no one seemed to pay much attention to us. I supposed it wasn’t that strange to take it in your head that you wanted a walk on the beach, even in street clothes.
This felt good, though. We went all the way to the water’s edge, stopped there to let the waves come in and just barely kiss our toes before receding. Right then, I realized how much I’d needed some time with Connor, away from all our worries, from the weight of the clan’s belief that we would keep them safe. We couldn’t stay here for very long, but I was going to relish this moment while I could.
“Did it tire you out?”
I didn’t bother to ask Connor what he meant. “No. It really didn’t feel any different from — from our first trip.” A woman about my age, holding her toddler’s hand, passed by us as we spoke, which was why I figured I’d better be circumspect. She didn’t do anything except flash us a quick smile as she went, but still….
“Same here. Which I suppose means our return trip shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Hopefully not.” I lifted my head into the breeze, looked out across the choppy, dark blue water. Far off in the distance, I saw a vague shadow on the horizon. A cloud, or an island? I wasn’t sure, since I didn’t really know all that much about Southern California’s geography. “I suppose we need to find out.”
“As much as I’d like to stay here on the beach with you, yeah.” His voice lowered, and I had to move closer to make sure I didn’t miss a word over the sound of the waves. “This is technically Santiago territory, although I didn’t detect anyone of witch-kind the last time we were here. Still, it’s probably better not to take too many chances.”
Any more than the ones we’d already taken, of course. I nodded, and by unspoken agreement we turned away from the ocean and its misty horizon, started walking back toward the alley where we’d first materialized. The whole way, I kept looking from side to side, wondering if any of the people we passed or who we approached might be witches or warlocks, but I didn’t get that little twinge that told me we were around others of our kind.
Maybe the Santiagos can’t afford beachfront property, I thought, even though I knew their clan was an old and wealthy one, with far more resources than my own. Or maybe it was simply that in these tightly clustered beachside communities, where land was so precious and lots for houses tiny, they didn’t think they could risk the loss of privacy. Or maybe all the Santiagos in this part of the world hung out in Corona del Mar rather than Newport.
Whatever the reason, Connor and I made it safely to the alley without encountering anyone who might challenge our presence there. We locked hands, and shut our eyes.
And there was the kitchen in Jerom
e again, just as we’d left it, with our water glasses sitting on the little table by the window and the sun shining in, clear and hard and bright, very different from the hazy day we’d left behind in Newport Beach.
“So….” Connor said, letting the word trail off, and I nodded.
“Now we know we can do it. We just have to decide when to go.”
12
Angela
Our little thousand-mile jaunt had made both Connor and me so hungry that slices of cold leftover pizza just weren’t going to cut it. We headed down to the Haunted Hamburger and took advantage of it being a little after the traditional lunch hour to snag some prime spots on the patio, where we could look down on the entire Verde Valley and feel the warm wind ruffle our hair.
Luckily, because it was a weekday and nearly two o’clock, we didn’t have anyone sitting near us, which meant we could talk freely without having to worry about any sensitive information being overheard. Jackie, one of the waitresses there, came by and took our food and drink orders, and then headed back in to fetch our iced teas.
“I’ve been thinking about getting into the Santiago house,” I said. “We have the photo Lucinda gave Caitlin, the one of Lucinda’s old bedroom, but I’m not sure that’s going to help us much. I suppose there’s a possibility Levi is being held there, although I think it’s much more likely that he’s being kept in another room somewhere in the house.”
“Probably,” Connor agreed. He paused as Jackie returned with our drinks, offering her a smile and a thank-you as she set them down on the table in front of us. “I can see Escobar keeping Lucinda’s room open because he thinks he’s still going to get her back.”
Yes, the dark warlock would be arrogant enough to believe that. Not because he had any personal interest in Lucinda — he’d clearly claimed Marisol for his own — but because it had to look bad for him to not have the former prima’s only child firmly under his thumb.
I wonder how he explained that one away, I thought as I took a sip of my iced tea. Assuming that anyone even asked. It’s so hard to know how much control he has over the individual clan members’ minds.
Darktide Page 13
