by Ann Aguirre
“I saw her yesterday. She left her phone at my place, but I didn’t worry about it because we were supposed to meet for lunch today. When she didn’t show—”
“You decided something must be wrong because that’s not like her.”
“Sounds like you know her pretty well.”
“I did. Jesse, can you feel her?” He’d sensed I was in trouble from Texas, when I was investigating my mother’s death in Georgia. His empathy had a powerful range, and it extended to those he cared about.
“No.” His anguish came across the line clearly. “It’s like she’s dead. Or…gone. So far, I can’t sense anything. But she wouldn’t just leave…” Then he seemed to recall I was a stranger. “Shan told you about me? Who are you again?”
“Corine Solomon.” I paused, wondering if my name meant anything to him.
A sharp intake of breath. “I feel like I should know you. Like I do know you.”
Poor Jesse. He exuded bewilderment.
“It’s…complicated. But don’t worry—I won’t say anything. I’m gifted, too.”
“Ah. Corine.” He repeated the word like a talisman. “My parents mentioned you once. Asked me where you’d gone, and since I didn’t know what they were talking about, I just shrugged. And my boss, Glencannon,” he added in a tone of realization. “He assumed you’d left because of my job. Who the hell are you?”
Chuch and Eva knew everything; they were old friends, not gifted themselves, though some of their family had been. So they knew the score with regard to spooky happenings. They both had a shady, interesting past—Eva had dabbled in forgery, and Chuch used to run weapons, but they’d settled into suburban bliss in Texas.
Chance and I stayed in Laredo long enough to see their baby daughter, Camelia, christened. Eva’s mother was religious, and she insisted on having the rite performed as soon as possible. Afterward, I’d explained to Chuch why Shannon wouldn’t be returning to Mexico with me. I offered money for her room and board, but he’d refused, as I had known he would. He said Shan was welcome to stay as long as she needed, and that Eva appreciated her help. He’d also promised not to say anything until the forget spell wore off because I didn’t know what the effects would be if magic ran up against human interference. I’d heard it could be traumatic to force people to recall something they were blocking, so if this was similar, then we had to err on the side of caution. I hadn’t wanted to hurt Shannon and Jesse, only protect them.
“Well?” he prompted in his sweet drawl.
“The important thing is finding Shannon,” I said softly. “You start the search on your end. I’ll do what I can here, and if I locate her, I’ll call you.”
“That’s not good enough—” But I did then what I should’ve done earlier, and cut the call.
He rang back, but I let it go to voice mail. Jesse was Shannon’s boyfriend, which meant she was all that connected us. I’d made my choices. Even if he remembered everything down the line when the spell wore off, as it seemed he might, I’d never be with him. Some things you just don’t do, and hooking up with your best friend’s ex sat at the top of the list. For me, Jesse Saldana was now an untouchable.
It seemed I had to go to the rendezvous point on the back of the note if I intended to save the girl. And obviously, I did. I couldn’t bear to consider what she might be suffering; I had to focus on the here and now. After tucking my cell phone in my pocket, I got a backpack and started filling it with provisions for a road trip. When Chance arrived a little later, I was still at it. Tia must have let him in; I didn’t hear the bell, but my room had thick walls and was near the back of the house. So, not surprising.
He tapped on the door and then came in before I answered. Because he knew me so well, he took one look, drew me against him, and said, “Tell me.”
It felt good to be in his arms, familiar, even with the differences. I was slimmer than I had been at any point in our relationship. Rubbing my cheek against the smooth fabric of his shirt, I explained the situation succinctly. He let go of me then, but not in rejection. He picked up the note to examine it, and studied the writing.
“So you think demons have Shannon?”
“The spell suggested as much. Certainly they’re involved on some level.”
“What do they mean, ‘claim the crown’?”
He knew I’d handled my business with Montoya, but he didn’t know the particulars. And this wasn’t the time to tell him.
“I’m not sure,” I prevaricated. “But I am sure demons took Shan.”
Chance nodded. “Let me get my laptop. I’ll input the coordinates and figure out where we’re going. It’s a good thing the shop isn’t finished yet.”
Gratitude warmed my smile by ten degrees. I wasn’t ready to sleep with him, or move in with him, but I remembered why I’d been with him in the first place, before everything went wrong. Maybe second chances made more sense than I thought. By and large, I’d thought that if something failed, it was best to put it in the rearview mirror and try not to think about it. I cut ties like a professional swordsman, and only Chance refused to let me go. Maybe that meant something after all.
He dropped a quick kiss on my upturned mouth and then loped off. His smooth grace captured my eye, as it ever had, and I finished packing while waiting for him to return. Twenty minutes later, he was back in my room, laptop in hand. Tia didn’t have Internet, so he had a USB wireless card, convenient for travel. Chance took the note and brought up a program. A few keystrokes and clicks later, he had a map on the screen.
“They want you in the Sierra de Juárez in Oaxaca.”
I studied the topography. “That’s about five hundred miles southeast of here.”
“I could drive that in less than eight hours,” he said confidently.
While I had the utmost confidence in Chance’s maniacal skill behind the wheel, the roads might not be good enough to support the speed he preferred. I said so politely, and he laughed.
“Don’t worry. I won’t get you killed.”
“I wasn’t worried about that at all.”
At least not since I started getting regular cleansings. It wasn’t a perfect solution to his infernal luck, but as long as I had the bad karma scraped off on a regular basis, we rubbed along well. Tia was happy to do it, if I bought the eggs. Maybe one day we’d figure out a permanent fix, but until then, this kept me alive. Chance’s unique ability gave him the best possible luck in all circumstances, but since the universe liked to keep things in balance, the person closest to him got whacked with the most terrible shit imaginable. He could use it in the most interesting ways, dowsing for the sense of what direction would solve any given problem. It reminded me of focused coincidence; Chance’s luck could make the most improbable factors come into alignment.
“If the roads get bad, I’ll slow down,” he promised. “Chuch would kill me if I broke the Mustang’s axle.”
“Where we’re going, we might need a truck or an SUV.”
“It’s remote, I take it?”
“Incredibly.”
“Is the El Camino reliable enough?” He didn’t love the idea of driving my car, but it made more sense for a trip like this.
“I had a friend go over it after we got home. It doesn’t look fabulous, but he’s got it running like a Swiss watch.”
“He?” His brow rose.
Surely Chance wasn’t jealous of my mechanic friend. But I could tell by his steady look, he really wanted to know who I had fixing my ride. My nights since we got home had belonged to him. Apart from the errands I ran during the day and my studies with Tia, there hadn’t been time to date anyone else.
“Julio lives four blocks over. He’s fifty years old, married, and has four kids.”
His expression eased from tension to sheepish relief, and he lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “It’s like you said in Laredo…I don’t know you that well anymore. I don’t know your friends. I want to, but you’re different that way too. You don’t share like you did.”
/>
Yeah, I’d learned to be closed, self-contained—and the irony of that? I’d gotten those tendencies from him. Now it felt oddly like he was an open book, and I had figured out how to hide the lines that revealed everything about me.
“I got good at being alone,” I said softly. In the old days, I’d have called him first thing instead of packing a bag on my own, ready to handle whatever came my way without asking for help.
“I know.” Awkward silence.
He needed me to make a move. So I added, “But I’m remembering how to be half of a couple. I thought we were doing all right.”
He’d promised to tell me about his dead ex. Maybe this road trip would be a good time for that. Since our return, we’d danced around the edges of intimacy, two steps forward, one step back, a particularly self-conscious waltz.
So far, Chance wasn’t rushing me. He didn’t push for sex or commitment. Emotionally, he was more accessible than he had been when we were together. From the vantage point of hindsight, I suspected he shouldn’t have been with me so soon after Lily died. I’d been a light against the loneliness, a body in the dark, and our jobs kept him from having to think or grieve or heal. But I hadn’t known about her. Or his loss.
If I’d had more experience with relationships, I’d have known something was wrong sooner. Before Chance, I had only hookups, nothing real. I hadn’t understood how it should be, and I’d so desperately wanted it to work, had needed him to love me, that I hadn’t seen the problems staring me in the face. I don’t think he loved me at all in the beginning; maybe he did in the end, or he realized how he felt too late, after I’d gone. Now, I wanted to believe in his feelings, but I feared them too. I had such a collection of scars carved on my heart, and many of them carried his initials.
For him to be willing to dodge out on a rescue mission at the drop of a hat, no questions asked? That boded well for our future together.
“Tia,” I called.
“Is Chance staying for dinner?” she yelled back in Spanish.
“No. Neither am I.” I went into the kitchen, and in a few words summarized where I was going and why.
She listened with no judgment, and then she shuffled into her bedroom. I was used to her ways, so I waited. When she returned, she had a charm bracelet in one hand. It was dull and tarnished, didn’t look special at all, but when she wrapped it around my wrist to fasten it, I felt the thrum of magick emanating from the trinket.
“It is the best charm I ever made,” she said softly. “Wear it well.”
“I can’t take this. You could sell it at the market—”
“Corine.” Her tone was dangerous, and though she came only to my shoulder, I knew not to cross her.
So I yielded gracefully, thanked and hugged her. Chance joined us with my things in his hand. In short order, he stowed my backpack in the El Camino parked in front while I prepped Butch for travel. Most dogs would be excited at the prospect of a road trip, but this Chihuahua was not a normal animal; he’d saved my life more than once with his warnings. He whined his misgivings at me, and he tried to tell Tia that this trip was a bad, bad idea, but she only laughed and scratched behind his ears. With a final whine, Butch settled in my purse, heaving a despondent doggy sigh. It was funny how well he could express his thoughts, even without Scrabble tiles. I had packed those too. Just in case. I had been astonished to learn he could use the letters to communicate with me when the matter was too crucial to trust simple yes/no questions.
“Let me cleanse you,” Tia said.
Though I’d had a cleansing the previous week, it was a good safety precaution, as I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. So I stood quiescent while she fetched her supplies: candles, a stout switch to lash me with, and of course, the eggs. She whispered the blessings as she rubbed the egg over my chakras. As usual, it took two to rid me of the bad luck Chance had deflected my way. His mouth twisted when he saw the darkness staining the center of the first one.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s fine now that I know how to deal with it.”
Haunted eyes, tiger striated in rich shades of amber, watched me while Tia wrapped up the brief ritual. I could tell he was thinking that Lily might have lived if he’d known to tell her how to protect herself. It occurred to me then that he didn’t have much experience with relationships either; otherwise, he’d have known this already. In his way, he was as confused as I was. And that made a difference.
“Ya termine,” Tia said. “Buena suerte, nena.” I’m done. Good luck, child.
We said our farewells quickly—no point in lingering. From my bag came a soft whimper, Butch making a last-ditch effort to persuade me to stay home.
But I couldn’t. The demons knew I cared about Shannon, so they’d taken her for leverage. Whatever horrors awaited me, she was suffering them already, and it made my skin feel too tight. But I couldn’t let myself go there. Too much imagination would paralyze me. The only way I could do Shannon any good was to contain my anxiety and focus on something else. I strode out to the car.
Chance didn’t like being a passenger, so I tossed him my keys. Instead of getting in, he asked, “Would you prefer to drive the first leg of the trip?”
It wasn’t a matter of whether I wanted to; it was the fact that he thought to ask. Once, he’d made decisions for me. He did what he thought was best for me, and kept information from me. His question showed me that he’d really changed. He saw me as stronger and more capable, someone who should have choices.
Smiling, I shook my head. “It’s fine. Just let me know if you get tired and we’ll switch. Do you have a bag in the car?”
In answer, he indicated the backpack behind the seat in the El Camino. “I guessed we’d be traveling. Just a change of clothes and protein bars, but with you, I’ve learned it pays to be prepared.”
“Clever man.”
The Mustang was nowhere in sight; he must’ve left it at his apartment. It would be safer there anyway. Tia had opted for a front garden instead of a garage, but nobody thought my El Camino was nice enough to steal. Looks could be deceiving.
I let Butch pee in the grass, and then I climbed into the car. It smelled faintly of the piña colada air freshener I’d bought, and the interior was pristine. I’d never owned a car before; I took care of this one.
It was almost dark when we took off, which meant heavy traffic as we came down the mountain. Chance had been here long enough that he wasn’t surprised by the way the periférico choked up, and he bitched like a native as we inched along, exhaust creeping in the windows. Since it was a cool night, it seemed wasteful to run the air conditioner. Buses clogged the right-hand lane, stopping every four feet.
In the evening, it looked magical here, even with the traffic. Mountains rose in the distance as we crept along. Lights sparkled from faraway houses; neon blurred into red and yellow lines from shops set along the highway. The sky above was gray, not black, so that even night felt mutable here, like shadows held no sway.
Once we passed what used to be the toreo—bullfighting ring, although it had been torn down a while ago—the traffic cleared somewhat, permitting him to drive faster. He drove like he’d learned in Italy, whipping in and out, throwing the car at spaces that seemed too small. Horns sounded in our wake, but he was smiling, and so was I.
Despite my worry over Shannon, it felt good to set out with him. This wasn’t a job he needed me for, and yet Chance was here beside me. He’d come to Texas because he wanted me. Missed me. Maybe even loved me. I entertained the possibility without suspicion whispering in my ear.
The city stretched before us, an endless monument to human ambition. It took two hours to cross onto the cuota—toll road—that led toward Oaxaca. At this speed the wind whipped my hair about my face, and I rolled the glass up halfway. That was better. Out here it was darker too, a black velvet sky and stars shining down on the hulks of mountains sleeping in the distance.
He drove halfway, and then he pulled over so I co
uld take a turn. To the best of my recollection, he’d never done that. I smiled at him, silhouetted against the headlights of a passing car.
“You can nap if you want. I’ll wake you if I get tired.”
“Thanks.” He tilted his head against the window and went to sleep. That demonstrated a level of trust we hadn’t achieved before. In the past, he’d be tense the whole time, as if giving me that much control proved problematic for him. The El Camino had an old AM/FM radio in lieu of a more expensive stereo, but that was good, as it eliminated any interest in jacking it. I listened to ranchero music all the way to keep my mind off Shannon’s plight, but when I got off the highway, I woke Chance. GPS could be unreliable in the mountains, and the coordinates were remote.
“I think we’re getting close.”
He rubbed his eyes and studied our surroundings: nothing but trees and mountains and bright, indifferent stars shining down. Pretty soon we were on a dirt track that became downright impassable. When we hit a deep rut, I parked the car in what was meant as an overlook, just rocks and dusty soil. Chance climbed out and grabbed his rucksack. The night air smelled of pine resin and distant smoke, possibly from a campfire. This looked like a good place if you were trying to get back to nature. Terribly remote, in fact.
He offered a half smile. “My backpack has plenty of room. Is yours full?”
I shook my head.
“Get the minimum of what you need and wedge it in with my stuff.”
“Athame. Chalice. Grimoires.” I wished he had room for my magickal chest, but it was heavy. I had to make do with the touch and spells powered by will alone. Fortunately, the five spells I had practiced with Tia fell into that category. This meant leaving my clothes behind, but the arcane items were more critical.
After we arranged my things, he said, “It’s pretty dark. We can set off on foot, or we can wait until light to see if it’s safe to drive on.”
“I can fix that.” It was a simple charm, but Chance hadn’t seen me cast it before. Maybe I was showing off a little.
With my athame, I etched the air with the symbol for magnesium, coiled the power within me, and then whispered, “Fiat lux.”
