The Difficult Loves of Maria Makiling

by Wayne Santos

  “You goddamn hipster bitch!”

  “Do they even have hipsters in the Philippines?” Maria asked.

  “Not—now—running—” Teek panted.

  Maria allowed herself a glance behind. She didn’t even know what she had been expecting.

  Hiraya had red eyes, long, gnarled arms, and hard claws erupting from spidery fingers. Her hair flowed behind her, wildly unkempt, as she struggled to keep up. She flew, on taut, wet, bat-like wings and her face was grossly out of proportion, chin stretching beyond the confines of a too-big mouth full of fangs. Even from this distance, Maria heard the leathery slap of her wings and caught her nauseating stench. She was the nightmare monster that Maria sometimes saw in her sleep, only she realized, now, that it hadn’t just been a bad dream.

  An Aswang was trying to catch her, and she did not want to find out what would happen if she did.

  “How far away is she—oh, shit…” Teek said, taking a look back.

  “Can you do something?” Maria asked.

  “Maybe. But I need a bit of time.”

  “How much?”

  “A minute, maybe less.”

  “A minute you’ve got,” Maria said. She wasn’t even sure this was going to work here, but what the fuck, they were in dreams. All things were possible in dreams, right? She turned her attention to some distance ahead of them.

  A little help here?

  A field of green blossomed, flowered, and rose in a horrific mess of vines and thorns.

  “Mind the gap,” Maria said.

  “What are you talking abo—oh, shi—” Teek neighed, leaped and sailed over the brambly patch that had suddenly engulfed their path. “You broke my stride.”

  Hiraya the Aswang howled as the vines and thorns rose up and trapped her, wrapping around her limbs, digging into her flesh and pulling her down. Her surprise turned into pain.

  “Okay,” said Teek, “forgiven.”

  Maria looked back and stretched out her hand, watching it glow with green light. The vines and thorns thickened, turning into a forest of pain.

  A thundercrack broke the air—not from a storm, but from the scream of the Aswang behind them as she struggled. Maria gave the plants more energy for growth and strength, which didn’t stop Hiraya from hurling a log-thick length of vine into the air like it had been shot from a catapult. A few more followed, sailing off in different directions, like some kind of giant, thorny fireworks display, crashing to the ground, punctuated by shrieks of fury as Hiraya freed herself.

  “Any time now,” she said to Teek.

  “Take this,” Teek said, holding up something in his hand.

  “Is… is this tape?”

  He didn’t answer, instead coming to a halt in a neat one-eighty that had him facing back in the direction of Hiraya, who was casting a red, angry glow on the horizon. “My right leg. Wrap it up, do it fast.”

  “Goddamn, motherfucking housekeeping…” Maria muttered. “I sure hope this is worth it.”

  Ahead of them, the ground shook, then cracked in all directions, even throwing Teek up into the air briefly. “So do I,” he said. He hunched down, concentrating, almost humming as his skin grew warmer, pinpricks of blue sparks rising from his body and drifting into the sky.

  “Are you meditating?”

  “You’re not wrapping, lemme do this…” he hissed.

  She wrapped. It was not neat, or tidy, but Maria felt the energy coursing through the tape, like tiny needles prickling at her skin, and when she wrapped it around Teek’s right leg, it glowed with golden light.

  “Done.”

  “Get back on.”

  “We really need to think about getting some kind of saddle, if we’re going to kee—ow!” She reeled from the sharp, slap Teek applied to her forehead.

  “Don’t get used to this,” he said. He knelt down, putting his hands on the ground, digging his hooves in. A runner’s starting position.

  Maria felt Teek’s muscles tensing under her grip. She tried to relax, loosening her arms so she wouldn’t be choking him, but when she heard the scream from the red, murderous light ahead of them, she flinched.

  Teek pushed off.

  Maria was shouting now, she couldn’t help it. She was practically bouncing as Teek pounded the ground, plunging ahead at a speed she hadn’t thought possible. The red light was no longer on the horizon, but rising ahead of them: Hiraya, mouth grotesquely distended, thorns still wrapped around her body. She spread her wings and clawed her way forward, and now, moving in closer, Maria could make out the tatters of something that she thought she’d seen on the runway of a recent Versace fashion show. She wondered what Hiraya did in the afternoons, in downtown Manila, when she wasn’t a rampaging, predatory demon.

  Then Teek kicked off, sending himself into a spin that forced Maria to cling for dear life. The taped-up leg glowed, and Hiraya hesitated as Teek, still spinning, shouted “Tatsumaki senpukyaku, bitch…”

  When Teek’s hoof made contact with Hiraya’s mid-section, there was a boom in the air, like thunder punching a bell, and a burst of light. Hiraya, screaming, soared off into the distance and disappeared entirely.

  Teek hit the ground hard, but in control, skidding to a halt and flicking his nose with his thumb. “And stay down,” he said.

  Maria let go, almost falling backward in her shock and awe, and looked up at him. “What… what the fuck was that? How did you do that? I didn’t even know you could do that…”

  “Enslavement 101,” Teek said, bending down and carefully unwrapping the tape. “Do not expect someone that you enslave to give you 110%. They’re always going to hold out on you, because they fucking hate you. Because you enslaved them.”

  “So, what was that?”

  Teek stood up. “A favor. For a friend.” He held his hand out. “Come on, hop back on. She might come back this way, she might not, but either way, we don’t have a lot of time right now.”

  “You just kicked her ass right back to Manila, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, and for all I know, she’s on the phone right now, telling your suitors what you just did. Trans-cerebral travel does not trump speed dial and long distance calling.”

  “Not gonna argue that,” Maria said. “But thanks.” And she clambered back on.

  “Let’s just finish this, I’ve got some anime to watch.”

  Maria complied, and Teek resumed his gallop back to Canada. Toronto. Home. The home of Maria Malihan, if not Makiling.

  Close now.

  So close to some kind of finish.

  Chapter Eleven

  DUDES AND BROS

  WHEN THEY RETURNED, it was night in Toronto. The exit was gentle, with both of them knowing enough about the area they were returning to that it wasn’t hard for Teek to make a discreet reentry at a small park belonging to the Toronto Archives. Maria recognized the area; she’d re-acquainted herself with riding a bike here when Tate had suggested she get back into the habit.

  “Okay, how do you want to do this?” Teek said.

  “Give me a second,” Maria replied. She closed her eyes and felt ahead for the ‘rips,’ as she thought of them: the fragmented, dangling bits of energy from Aurelio and Mateo that would be grasping desperately for the energy they’d been drawing for centuries. She held out the vain hope that maybe by cutting them off from it, they would simply wither and die, with the years catching up to them for having cheated time and death for so long. But she wasn’t counting on it.

  And it was a good thing, too, because they weren’t. They were alive, still not quite human, if profoundly diminished from what they normally were when Maria had taken them on. Her heart beat faster as she took the measure of their power and realized she was still feeling them in two separate locations.

  “Alone,” she said, turning to look back to Teek. “They’re still not together.”

  “Wouldn’t be very sporting, two against one.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “So we’re gonna do it?”
r />   “Fuck, yes.”

  “I’ll follow your lead.”

  Mateo. She wanted to take on Mateo first. He was the soldier. He would be the most dangerous, even without dark magic infused in his system.

  She recognized the direction of his signature. Down south, on the lake shore. Now that she knew what he truly was, how old he was, how much money he’d pocketed away over the centuries, it suddenly made a lot more sense that a personal trainer could somehow afford a condo with an amazing view of both Lake Ontario, and downtown. He wasn’t a money launderer or trust-fund baby after all, he was just immortal, rich, and had no idea what reasonable salaries or real estate pricing were like in 21st-century Toronto.

  Maria stepped forward, Teek close behind her. She wasn’t thrilled by it, but she still had a personal connection to Mateo; the time they’d spent together had created a bond. She used it to enter his home, Teek following immediately, sniffing the air and looking around.

  There were no lights or sounds in the darkened condo. Through the windows, Maria could see the other buildings lit up for the evening, the CN Tower going through its cycle of rainbow colors.

  It looked like no one was home, but Maria knew that was a lie.

  She didn’t sense him, but Teek did, suddenly spinning and delivering a kick that interrupted Mateo’s attack. He crashed through his own coffee table, sword in hand, cascading with angry silver light boiling across the length of the blade—Teek had to jump back as Mateo recovered almost instantly and swung it.

  Maria responded almost by pure instinct, stretching out her hand, calling for the plants to come to her aid, but this wasn’t the Philippines. She was nowhere near home ground, and diminished by being here.

  But not as diminished as Mateo now was. And she was not going to let Teek do all the work. She owed Mateo, in punches and kicks.

  She moved forward, closing her hand into a fist. Teek saw what she was up to and came at Mateo from another direction, seizing his attention.

  It didn’t look like Mateo had to think about this much. Between an attack from a demon horse and a little Filipina, he knew how to make a threat assessment. He ignored Teek entirely and raked his sword across Maria’s stomach, sending her flailing back towards a sofa and over it.

  That allowed Teek to get in a good, solid punch to Mateo’s side, but the Spaniard was already putting his guard up and coming back with the sword.

  “Holy shit, how do you even have a crush on me?” Maria asked, looking at the line of red welling up on her body.

  “I am so sick of your shit,” Mateo said, and now his Spanish accent was coming out heavier. He must’ve been really mad. “Why do you keep picking that loser? Why don’t you at least pick Aurelio? You know how much goddamn work he’s put in all these years for you? You know how much it’s cost him?” He took a swing at Teek, who dodged out of the way, banging against a table and knocking it over.

  Spirits watch over me. A cooling sensation slipped along the cut on her stomach, dimming the pain. It would at least let her function. But it drove home a memory for Maria—several, in fact. Of why she had picked Mateo first. He had always been the aggressor, the one that had attacked her and Teek most viciously. And now she really wondered at her initial question. How did Mateo even have a crush on her? Did he? When she thought back to her seduction, it seemed now, in hindsight, to be perfunctory, even cruel. But with no real attraction or intent. She still found him unbelievably hot, especially now that he was beginning to sweat, but the way he carried himself with Maria had more the feel of someone who conquered women as a matter of habit, perhaps even pride, than any genuine desire. Had it always been like that?

  It was time to put some things to the test.

  Maria got to her feet and stood her ground. “You’re not getting Tate this time,” she said. “You’ve totally failed.”

  He shrugged. “Kill him first or kill him second, it’s all the same to me.”

  “No,” Maria said, and let a smile break her face, neither gentle, nor loving, nor kind. “He’s beyond your reach. There’s only me.”

  “Well, you’ll do for now. You’re just a goddamn maid, you’re supposed to clean messes, not make them, that’s why we bring you out of the country, it’s all you people are good for.”

  “Jesus, don’t you want to win me over at all? Why even chase me, for all these centuries?” She half-expected him to make some crack about taking her passport away, the ultimate threat employers always hung over Filipino maids.

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Maria looked into his eyes, the grim set of his face, and saw nothing but anger and resentment there. Not the slightest trace of desire.

  Maria flicked her hand, a signal to Teek to keep his distance, behind Mateo. Teek nodded.

  Mateo and Maria charged at the same time.

  She had to embrace more of who she was, or what she could be, to do this and survive. The problem was that goddamn sword he was swinging around. Even if he’d lost a good chunk of his supernatural power from Maria’s shoe purge, that was a fucking magic sword, and it was all set to do the dance, eldritch connection or no.

  Maria reminded herself that Mateo was military. He traded in combat, was good at it, had certain expectations and responses. So Maria indulged that, going into a lunge that Mateo saw as an opportunity. She’d have to take the hit, but it would be worth it.

  Mateo dodged, like a matador at the bullring, turning it into a throw that sent Maria flying at Teek. She felt the heat blaze across her back as he took one more swing—and hit—but her goal had been achieved. She crashed into Teek, and both fell on the floor, close enough that she could speak quietly.

  “We’re taking that fucking sword,” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  They clambered to their feet, and Maria cut loose.

  She may not have had full access to her Diwata abilities here—the lack of jungle definitely not helping—but she still had access to the physique of one. She let it happen, growing in size, changing in color, coming into the strength that was hers, and kicked a recliner, sending it hurtling towards Mateo.

  Teek followed, going low just as Mateo ducked, and hit him with a leg sweep that took him off his feet. Maria kept the pressure on, grabbing the coffee table one-handed and hurling it at Mateo on the ground. Mateo shouted as his own marble coffee table slammed into it, but Maria had no sympathy.

  Teek was back on his feet, stomping his hoof repeatedly into Mateo’s face. Mateo screamed in anger and rage and tried to block him, readying his sword to strike.

  Maria grabbed the sofa—it was so much easier now—and brought it down on Mateo’s sword hand. He screamed like he never had in all of her memories of their past confrontations. He really didn’t understand how any of this was happening, and he was both angry and afraid. It gave her the result she wanted: his arm and sword pinned and isolated.

  Teek jumped into the air, MMA-style, and landed on the coffee table still on Mateo, dropping his elbow right onto Mateo’s face, and then slamming it down repeatedly.

  It was easy now, with Mateo in the throes of agony, to pry his fingers off the sword. Maria raised her own foot and brought it down hard on Mateo’s hand, and was rewarded by one more scream of pure agony.

  She held the sword up. It tingled in her grip.

  “We’re gone,” she said.

  “We are?” Teek asked, blinking rapidly. He looked like he was really getting into this.

  “New plan,” Maria said, already moving towards the window of the apartment.

  “No!” Mateo said, cutting off his own scream. Did he already know what Maria was up to? Or was this just the instinct she suspected was there?

  Maria moved in between the spaces again, sensing Teek, ever faithful, behind her now. He followed without question, his trust complete, and she wanted to punch herself in the teeth for not just fucking asking him in the first place if he had ever wanted to be a part of this ride.

  The transition back to Toronto wa
s smooth, almost seamless now. This was her town, she knew it well. But she did not expect to exit onto the 401, the highway that cut through the city to bedroom communities to the east and west. She shrank back to normal size and threw herself off to the side, grabbing Teek with her, as they narrowly dodged a car tearing down the road.

  “Oh, shit,” Teek said. “Why are we here?”

  “Because Aurelio’s on the move,” Maria said. “Unlike Mateo, I think he’s actually trying to make a run for it.”

  “Where?” Teek asked.

  Maria began to scan the road, sighed, stopped, and pointed. “There,” she said in embarrassment.

  Aurelio’s Tesla was lime green, thundering out a rapid bass beat, with shifting rainbow lights blinking and streaking up and down the chassis of the car. It was like a ’90s electronic dance night club accessory on wheels. If Maria was the divine manifestation of a sacred mountain, this was the spirit of Techno given form.

  But, Maria was pleased to see, Aurelio still couldn’t really drive for shit.

  Teek was already on it, taking the knee so she could clamber up faster.

  “Can you actually catch up to him? He’s in a car.”

  “Yeah, it’s not really fair to him, is it? Should I give him a handicap?”

  Maria laughed and climbed aboard. “Just catch up to him as quick as you can, we need to end this.”

  “I have to admit, this is a pretty different way of going about things,” Teek said, adjusting into a starting position. He tore down the road. “Going to be fun seeing the look on his face when you finish him off.”

  “He won’t be expecting what’s coming next, I don’t think,” Maria said. She held on awkwardly with one hand, keeping the other loose, holding Mateo’s freakish sword. It trembled in her hand slightly, as if it knew it was not being held by its owner and was trying to escape her grasp. She wasn’t especially fond of it either, but if she was going to get into a fight with someone who had, until very recently, been plugged into dark, magical energies, she was going to make sure she had a magic sword on her side.