“I’m sorry – I don’t really understand the significance of these stones. I’m certain there are more valuable treasures to be found,” I said, then wanted to smack myself in the forehead. I could’ve just said yes, and the evil crazy gun-wielding man would have left my shop. But noooo, I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“You really know nothing of the stones? Did the people you work for tell you nothing?”
“I’m not entirely sure who I’m working for. And, no. It’s all on a need-to-know basis. They gave me the names of the stones,” I lied, then paused as his lips tightened. “And that was it. I had to Google what I could on the rest,” I finished.
“Ah, Wikipedia. I love it, but sometimes it is not so accurate, eh?” Tlaloc pursed his lips and shook his head at me before sitting down once again.
Shit. Now he was cozying up for a chat. I really needed to learn how to keep quiet.
“This tarot you do – it’s like a power, yes? You can divine things?” Tlaloc asked with a small smile.
“I suppose you could call it that. Though I don’t always ‘divine’ so much as lead people in the right direction.”
“Ah, but ages ago you might have been considered a great seer of fortunes. This power, well, it passes down through the blood, yes?”
I shrugged one shoulder, noncommittal. I wasn’t about to bring my mother into this.
“I am a descendant of the great Yaolt, a man who reigned supreme over the Aztec empire and was touched by Quetzalcoatl himself.”
“Is that so?” I smiled, all friendly-like. I didn’t need more bruises on my throat.
“It is indeed, Hermosa. Yaolt reigned for years, bringing great fortune as well as doling out punishments when needed. Everything he touched turned to gold – and his word was law. It has been revealed to me, through our family, that the fall of Yaolt began when these precious stones were stolen from him by the Spanish, to be transported to the Spanish royal family. Of course, it was only natural for their ships to go down. Those stones were destined for my family – my race. Not for the Spaniards. The power they hold? It can change the world.”
“And you’re the man to do it? Change the world, that is?”
“Yes, Hermosa. Do you know the amount of good I could bring to my people? Great fortunes, bountiful harvests, health and strength – ah, yes, the Aztec people would rise once again, claiming the land and the power that is rightfully ours.”
“What about the ‘doling out punishments’ part of it?”
“Ah – with every good comes the bad. Like two sides of a coin, yes? You need only flip it.”
“Ahora.” A voice spoke from inside the shop – it was only just then that I realized Tlaloc was not alone. Of course he wasn’t. These types of men traveled well-guarded.
“I must be off. We have a deal, yes?”
I looked down the cold steel barrel of the gun held inches from my face and said the only thing I could.
“Yes, of course we do.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I didn’t pee my pants or anything.
But I did sit there for a minute or two after he left, my body visibly shaking as I forced myself to calm down.
Tlaloc was a bad dude. Understatement of the year and all, I know.
Once all my limbs had started working again, I hightailed it from the shop. Still shaking, I pulled out my phone as I drove away, and called Trace.
“Yo,” he said. I’d put the phone on speaker.
“I… I…” I didn’t really know what to say.
“You changed your mind about that kiss?”
“Aztec gang guy just held a gun to my head.”
“Holy shit, damn it, Althea, where are you?”
Like this was my fault?
“On my way to Miss Elva’s.”
“I’m on my way.”
I’d gathered my wits about me by the time I pulled up to Miss Elva’s, but Trace was already pacing the porch. Seeing him made me want to go all girly and run to him – so instead I straightened my back and shot my nose in the air.
I’m a contradictory one.
“Thank god,” Trace said, coming down the steps to wrap me in his arms.
“You all right there, honey?” Miss Elva called from the porch, and I pulled away from Trace to sit down on the top step and wrap my arms around a visibly agitated Hank.
“Hey sweetie, I’m fine. Mama loves you,” I said automatically as Hank slathered my face in kisses.
“What the hell happened?” Trace demanded.
Hank glanced at Trace and then back to me.
“Hey, stop with the angry voice. Hank doesn’t like fighting.”
“Sorry, Hank,” Trace said, bending down to scratch Hank’s ears.
“I’d stopped at the shop to talk to Luna, but she was leaving for a date. Stupidly, I didn’t lock up behind me while I went to grab an amulet my mom sent me.”
“That’s a nice amulet right there. Good energy.” Miss Elva nodded at the amulet where it now hung around my neck.
“Thank you. And, well, yeah, he walked in and held a gun on me,” I said, mechanically going over the details. By the time I was finished, Trace was kneeling in front of me to check my throat.
“You’re already bruising,” he swore.
“I’ll be fine. I grabbed some of Luna’s magickal healing salve. I’ll be healed up by morning.”
“I can take those bruises away for you, child,” Miss Elva said, her eyes on mine.
“No, I think they need to stay for a bit. Remind me not to be so damn stupid.”
“I think we need to dive tomorrow night. On the map sites Miss Elva gave us.” Trace leaned back against the porch column and crossed his arms. His hair was pulled back from his face, and I could see a twitch in his jaw.
“I’m down. I say we find these stones before either of these other two groups do.”
“Did Luna teach you the stasis spell?” Miss Elva asked.
“No time.”
“Looks like you’re staying for dinner. You’ll be making time.”
You don’t say no to Miss Elva.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hours later I had calmed myself down, learned a stasis spell – something that I never thought that I would have to learn – and was snuggled comfortably on Miss Elva’s sofa. She’d served up an excellent shrimp gumbo for dinner and I was beginning to slide my way into a semi-conscious state.
“Miss Elva?” I almost mumbled, then pulled myself up into a sitting position before I fell asleep.
“Yes, child?”
“How come I can’t just use that locator spell to find the treasure and call it a day?”
Miss Elva stretched out her legs and examined her neon pink pedicure.
“You could certainly try. But it works better when you have an emotional connection to the item you’re looking for – or when there are highly charged emotions surrounding the need to find or be found,” Miss Elva shrugged.
“I have a lot of emotions about finding these stones. Mainly the emotion of not wanting to die,” I said, annoyed with this whole expedition.
The bruising on my neck hadn’t been given much chance to bloom – between Miss Elva’s insistence on healing them and Luna’s salve, my throat was pretty much back to normal.
Everything was normal. Except the parts about someone who believed he was a god tracking my every move, and Nicola withholding information about who she worked for.
Maybe Cash was right. Maybe it was time to try and walk the straight and narrow. I was a psychic, for Christ’s sake – I should know better than to get myself involved in these situations.
“Learning lessons, girlie, learning lessons,” Miss Elva said, shooting me a look. Hank was snoring lightly on her couch, his stomach facing up and his paws moving ever so slightly. I wondered if he chased a squirrel in his dreams.
“Learning to trust my instincts? Learning to not get involved in stupid shit?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it has not
hing to do with that, and instead it’s learning that you’re always going to walk a different path than most, that your true nature is to be a risk-taker.”
Look at Miss Elva – laying some truth-bombs on me tonight.
“I mean, I suppose that I know that, in some respects. Running my own business is a risk,” I shrugged.
“Yes, but it’s still considered respectable. Even if what you sell is slightly off the beaten path. I’m saying embrace what you are. Your magick, your psychic abilities, your need to help others – that’s all a part of you. Don’t shrink from it or try to fit yourself into a mold. People like you and me, child – we have no mold. Own it.”
I felt kind of like I was in the locker room before a big game and the coach was giving me that winning speech that would send me onto the field, ready for battle. And in some respects, that’s what it was. Except this wasn’t sports, and the battle was for my life.
And for the godstones.
I couldn’t forget those stones. But at this point, I only wanted to walk away with my life – oh, and, you know, save the world from the godstones’ falling into the wrong hands.
The usual.
“Okay, I got it. I’m a warrior.”
“There you go, child. ’Bout damn time you realized it. Now if I was you, I’d be letting that Cash know exactly what I thought of myself, and that he can either sign up for that ride or step aside for a more deserving dude. I don’t know what happened between you two this week, but you’d better knock that simpering, moping stuff to the side. You’ve got bigger things to worry about. And the last thing you need is some man telling you to tone it down.”
“You are, as always, a hundred percent unequivocally right, Miss Elva. I don’t want to tone it down. In the slightest.”
It felt good to say those words – to own that fact. I felt a lightness settle in my gut – as if I were claiming my own power. And maybe, in a way, I was. The world doesn’t ever tell you that you’re okay just the way you are. From makeup commercials to ‘proper’ jobs to what your body should look like – we’re constantly bombarded with all the ways we’re supposed to change ourselves, the subliminal message being that we aren’t good enough the way we are.
And damn did it feel good to stop and say, wait a minute – this is me.
Take it or leave it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I slept like a baby that night – although I don’t get that saying. Don’t babies wake up like every hour and cry? Either way, I was refreshed and ready to tackle the day. I know – it’s perverse, isn’t it? You’d think being held at gunpoint would bring me nightmares for weeks. But Miss Elva’s pep talk had really resonated with me.
“I’m a warrior, Hank. Like Xena, except I’m no princess.” I chuckled and got out of bed; Hank’s ears had popped up at my laugh.
I suppose he was happy to see me in a good mood, not moody and sad like I’d been all week. Dogs are very tuned in to our emotions – and I had no doubt he’d been trying extra hard this week to comfort me.
“You’re the sweetest, most cutest, most loveable, bestest dog I’ve ever met,” I cooed to Hank, and he wiggled on his back to the edge of the bed so I could scratch his tummy as he convulsed in delight.
There’s nothing like a dog to lift you up when you feel blue.
I worked my way through my morning routine at a fairly quick pace, and congratulated myself for only thinking about Cash once during that time. I’m not a cold-hearted witch, you know. I’d just been a little distracted since our argument and he wasn’t the only upsetting thing I had to dwell on this week.
It’s amazing how we can compartmentalize things when we need to.
As I walked down the dock after dropping Hank off at Miss Elva’s, I thought about my feelings for Cash, for Trace, for my life in Tequila Key. I could change it all if I wanted to – tell Cash I would change, stop reading tarot, even move to another state. But then I wouldn’t be true to who I was as a person. Instead, I would have to learn to deal with my feelings like a big girl – and continue on the path I’d set for myself.
Which, at the moment, included finding some damn godstones without getting offed in the process.
Trace was already at the boat, though just a thin line of light could be seen on the horizon.
“Do you think today’s the day?” he asked as I slid my sandals off and handed him my dive gear.
“I feel like today’s going to be significant, one way or the other.”
“Did you get a good night’s sleep? I was worried about you after I left Miss Elva’s.”
“Surprisingly, I did. Miss Elva gave me a pretty good pep talk. It made a difference – I think. In any event, I slept well.”
“Good, because tonight, you and I are diving solo. I want to check out a spot or two – I think I’ve finally narrowed it down. At least based on the maps Miss Elva gave you.”
“Lovely. Night dives are always so… interesting.” I winked at him as I stepped on board and moved to the bench to check my BCD over.
“Since when are you scared of being a shark snack?” Trace asked.
“I’m not. I’m more concerned about who else might be out on the water.”
“You think they’re diving at night?”
“So far we haven’t seen any other dive teams leave from here – at least none we don’t recognize. Unless they’re coming around from the far side of the island.”
“I’m not too worried about it. My boat’s fast, and we know these waters.”
“Okay then. I’ll see you at sundown.”
“What’s occurring at sundown?” Nicola asked from the dock and I jumped. I hadn’t heard her come clomping up. I turned to see that she had picked up a pair of flip-flops. It seemed she was finally getting the hang of things – though the safari hat was still jammed on her head. Someone really needed to introduce her to straw hats.
“Dinner,” I said, reaching up to grab her pack, then helping her onto the boat. I was surprised she let me take the pack – I really wanted to take a peek at whatever was tucked away inside.
“Ah, so you two are an item then.” Nicola nodded as though confirming the suspicions she’d had all week.
“No we aren’t. We’re friends. Eating dinner. With other friends.”
“If you say so,” Nicola shrugged, clearly not believing me. Whatever; I was a warrior, I reminded myself. I didn’t need to explain myself to anyone.
“Where are we diving today? Should we go back to the first site where we actually found treasure?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I think we’ve zeroed in on where we want to be today. It’s somewhat near the first one, but a few miles further up the current.”
“Makes sense.” Trace nodded and held out his hand for the coordinates. He plugged them into the computer, then his eyes met mine briefly before he went back to looking at the screen.
“Looks to be about a thirty-minute ride. Not too bad,” Trace said easily, but I caught the note in his voice.
“Where are we today?” I asked lightly, crossing to peer over his shoulder at the screen.
Shit. It was damn close to where Miss Elva had showed us. How had they found the dive site?
“Sure, I’ve been in that area. It should be easy to dive,” I said, pasting a smile on my face and turning around to look at Nicola.
“Good, let’s get going then. I’m hoping today is the day,” Nicola said briskly, sitting down and crossing her legs. I noticed she wore one of those seasick bands on her wrist and I wondered just how difficult it had been for her to be rocking on a boat all week if she suffered from seasickness.
The money must really be worth it.
The ride out to the site was fairly choppy and I saw Nicola bite her lip more than once as the boat hit a high wave. She was going to have a tough time on the surface today. That’s the nice thing about diving – once you’re under the water, the surface waves mean nothing.
Trace dropped a grappling hook when we got
close to the coordinates, and in short order we were hooked up and our gear was on our backs. As we made our way to the back of the boat, I glanced back at Nicola as the boat bobbed in the waves.
“Apply pressure at your wrist. You can also use a pressure point under your knee. Google it on your phone. It’ll help.”
Nicola nodded her thanks at me.
“I’ve got some medicine in the bathroom too. Feel free to use it,” Trace added.
“Thank you both. Please… be safe,” Nicola said, and I glanced at Trace. This was the nicest she’d been to us all week. Maybe getting seasick was making her lose her edge.
In moments we’d reached the floor, and I waited while Trace checked to make sure the grappling hook was secure. Our depth was only eighty feet today, which would allow us more time to explore. Looking around, I could already see that we’d need the time.
Trace glanced at me and flashed me an OK sign and I nodded, pointing immediately to what I had seen. He glanced over and then back at me, his eyes wide in his mask.
A broken mast lay across a swath of coral, its wood concealed by algae and various forms of muck – but I was still able to discern the unnatural shape of it. We immediately swam to where the mast lay and I began to take pictures, making sure to document the area, as I followed Trace and his metal detector.
Trace held up his hand for me to wait and I kicked around in circles as he investigated something on the floor. Patiently waiting, I examined the coral head in front of me, reaching out to wave my fingers at a fairy basslet that had popped his head out to investigate me.
And froze when I realized that the glint of green sitting on the ledge of the coral was not, in fact, a fish – but a stone.
A shiny, rough cut, emerald, to be exact.
My heart skipped a beat and I almost held my breath before reminding myself to –duh –not hold my breath with a regulator on. Picking the emerald up, I turned it in my palm. An almost rectangular shape, it was cut in rough angles and gleamed dully – a deep, rich green. It wasn’t big enough to be the godstone, but it filled almost my entire palm.
Three Tequilas (Althea Rose 3) Page 12
