Agave Kiss

ultimately, he would rise.”

Whatever that meant.

“Not too specific.”

“The spirits tend not to be.” She went on, “You have no idea how this sets my mind at ease, Corine. Did you . . . hear from him?”

“I had a really vivid dream. I didn’t believe it could be real, but—”

“You had to be sure.”

I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see it. “He said to tell you not to worry. That he’ll find a way back.”

“If anyone can, he will,” she said with quiet assurance.

And madly, I believed her. The world had lost its luster without him. I’d managed to leave him once, but that was different; I’d known he was still out there somewhere, being Chance, doing Chance things. That made all the difference—this was stark, awful, and unbearable.

“He said he needs my help to pull it off,” I told her, making a sudden decision. “And he has it. I won’t stop until he’s back. I can’t. I love him so much.”

“I know you do. You always did.”

“I’ll keep you posted. I have things percolating.”

“Thank you, ddal.”

My heart twisted. Toward the end of my first relationship with Chance, Min had started calling me that, which meant “daughter” in Korean. I’d never dared to call her Omma, as Chance did, but this moment called for a leap of faith, a promise that we’d one day be mother and daughter, as she had expected.

“You’re welcome, Omma. I’ll call you soon.”

As she rang off, I heard her sniffle. Hopefully it was a happy sort of crying. God knew I had done enough of that in the last few weeks. But if there was even a small possibility of a happy ending, I’d move heaven and earth for it.

Before I rejoined the others, I had one more task to complete; I scrolled through my call directory to find Chance’s landlord. When he picked up, I greeted him in Spanish. “Good morning, sir. This is Corine Solomon, Chance Yi’s girlfriend. I was calling to find out the status of his rent. He’s . . . traveling right now, and I wondered when his rent will be due.”

Senor Gomez made some noise, rummaging through his files, and then he came back on the line. “He paid in advance, so it won’t be due for another month and a half. Thanks for letting me know he’s not home. I’ll have the guard look in on the place now and then.”

“I appreciate it . . . and so does Chance.” Or he would, I reasoned, if he wasn’t busy trying to crack a door between the planes. “Thanks for your time, sir.”

“No problem. Have a good day.”

Well, at least that much went right. He’ll have a home to come back to.

Feeling bolstered, I went back into the kitchen, where everyone was wrapping up their breakfast. To my surprise, Cami reached for me. I’d held her more than once before leaving for Mexico with Chance, but she didn’t know me in the sense that most babies required before permitting cuddles.

Eva shot her daughter a bemused look. “I guess she likes you.”

“The little mite has good taste,” Booke said.

From any other male, I’d have taken the remark as flirtation, but he was just being courtly. In person, he had the manners of a different era, which I found fascinating, as I’d always interacted with him as if he were my age or thereabouts. I probably wouldn’t have spoken as freely as I had in our shared dreams if I’d known I ought to be treating him with the respect due an elder.

I took the baby and propped her on my hip, as I’d seen Eva do. It didn’t seem as awkward as it looked, particularly when Cami curled into me. She gazed up at me with impossibly big, dark eyes—and then she pulled my hair. Aha. So it was the braid she wanted; I moved it so she could tug to her heart’s content. I might be bald by the time she finished but it was a small price to pay for a happy infant.

“You shouldn’t let her do that,” Eva scolded.

“Eh. Better my hair than my earrings. Did Chuch call his cousin?”

“Yep. Ramon is bringing Caridad over this afternoon to see if she can do anything for Booke.”

When I glanced over at the man in question, I noticed how bright his eyes were. He flattened his hands on the table, gnarled now, as they hadn’t been when Shan and I first entered his cottage a few days before. The knuckles were thick and swollen and I imagined it must be painful to hold a fork. If there was a spell that could reverse the ravages of aging, I didn’t know about it, other than the ritual Kel had mentioned, which involved Luren blood.

Out of the question.

But people had been looking for the Fountain of Youth for centuries. Maybe somebody had found it. If it was as simple as ordering a potion off the Internet, I would be forever grateful. But I imagined that wasn’t the case. Like Chuch, however, I understood refusing to give up; that was what I was doing with Chance, after all.

Cami gave my plait a painful tug. “Yeouch. What?” The baby offered me a stern look, as if I should know what she wanted. “Sorry, kid. I can’t read minds.”

Then I smelled it and gave her back to Eva. “I’ll handle that when I have my own, not a minute sooner.”

“Is that in the cards?” she asked over her shoulder, heading for Cami’s room.

“Maybe,” I murmured. “Someday.”

Chuch and Booke occupied the day with a chess match, somewhat less than thrilling for the rest of us. I could tell Chuch was spending as much time as he could with his old friend, putting off the restoration work in his four-bay garage, just in case the worst came to pass. Kel disappeared, probably to take a nap. He was still sleeping off the energy he’d burned in breaking the curse that held Booke captive.

It occurred to me . . . if magick could hold Booke hostage so many years, was it possible with Kel? Maybe he did have free will; he just didn’t realize it. If he’d been ensorcelled with obedience binding from birth, it would permit Barachiel to pretend the Nephilim were born to serve. But how would I discover the truth? There was no way to resolve the matter, so I focused on the pressing problem.

Booke. I hoped Chuch’s cousin Ramon was a good lover; otherwise, with the favor we were requesting, it would take a year on the installment plan to pay for services rendered.

I’d find out when she arrived.

Ramon and Caridad were punctual, arriving at 3:00 p.m. on the dot. She was a tall, slender woman with a mass of streaked dark hair. Her highlights were done in purple and silver, lending her a dramatic, witchy look. Likewise, her style suggested her profession, as she wore a long black dress that swirled around her legs in layers of lace. Chunky silver jewelry completed the ensemble. All told, she was attractive, but she didn’t look like a comfortable woman to be around. High-maintenance, I decided.

Ramon, on the other hand, resembled Chuch, though he was a little taller and had a slightly smaller waist. He radiated the same humor and goodwill, however. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a hearty hug. I thought we’d met on several occasions, but at the moment, my head was a little foggy. So I just hugged him back, which put a smile on his face.

“This is my girl, Caridad,” he said, by way of introduction. Ramon named the rest of us for the witch’s benefit, I suspected.

“Mucho gusto,” she said, extending her hand as if she expected me to kiss it.

I contented myself with a polite shake, and the others followed suit. Eva’s mouth held a slight pucker, not as if she wanted to kiss Caridad, but more like the bruja was a sour taste she couldn’t wash away. As hostess, she led the way into the living room, comfortably appointed with two couches and a love seat. I adored the angled ceilings and the long, arched windows letting in the afternoon light. I took a seat in the single armchair, running a hand nervously over the pretty striped damask. It was smooth and silken to the touch, and I wondered how this furniture would stand up to baby Cami in a few years. Still, it was a lovely room, bright and elegant.

Once we had settled, she folded her hands in her lap, assuming a businesslike demeanor. “Ramon tells me you wish to hire me. Ordinarily, you understand, you would need to make an appointment.”