Shady Lady

Mexican nationals assume you’re too dumb to be up to something if you can’t speak the language properly.

The security guard merely waved as he went by. For appearance’s sake, I let Butch pick our path back to the hotel, which meant we stopped every four feet so he could smell something. No problem, he’d earned it. When we reached the parking lot, I picked him up again.

At a glance, I could tell Shannon needed to eat. Though she was a trooper and not complaining, summoning screwed her sugar levels. Which was weird, because using my gift had a different cost. Still, once we let ourselves back in the room, I dug in my purse for the Snickers bar I kept on hand for just such an occasion.

Her fingers trembled as she unwrapped it. As promised, Kel sat waiting for us. He’d put the blankets and pillows back on the bed, not that we’d sleep again. It was two hours before dawn; I figured we’d leave at first light.

I asked the unspoken question. “What happened back there?”

Kel shrugged. “My guess? A trigger spell. Powerful sorcerers can set a curse that will be set off only if certain conditions are met.”

“Like a henchman about to betray el jefe,” Shannon said around a mouthful of chocolate, peanuts, and nougat.

“Exactly,” he answered.

“He definitely recognized the caster and he feared him.” I sighed. “Unfortunately, it leaves us back at square one. In Laredo, we had a list of his properties, but he’ll have sold them by now, and most likely plugged the leak Esteban exploited to get the info in the first place.”

Shannon asked, “Who’s Esteban?”

I gave her the short version of how I’d read a necklace for the guy—he worked for a rival cartel—and told him why his sister disappeared years before. Esteban had been so grateful he’d produced the information we needed to go after Montoya in his mountain fortress. That wouldn’t be happening again—and as we’d realized earlier, when we found Montoya, he’d have this new sorcerer at his side. Not. Good.

She nodded, thoughtful. “We need help from somebody higher up the food chain this time.”

Like that was going to happen; I didn’t know any cartel bosses. In Mexico, it was bad news to evince curiosity about doings near the border. Living in the interior in a safe neighborhood was a different world from Juarez, Nuevo Laredo, or Tijuana.

We needed to move. . . . I just didn’t know where to go.

Kel had been quiet. I glanced over and saw his eyes were closed. For all I knew, he was communing with his archangel, and was about to dump us for new orders. I didn’t kid myself he’d care.

Sensing my regard, he sat forward in his chair. “There was a woman who helped you before. In Texas.”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’m not dragging Eva into this. She’s got to be eight months along.”

“Not Eva.”

For a moment I couldn’t think of any other woman, and then it hit me. “You mean Twila?”

Right, he’d been shadowing me, so he had probably trailed me to her house. I knew that because he saved my life for the first time in the cemetery. Back then things were simpler, because I thought he wanted to kill me.

“Yes. She may have contacts we can use.”

“To do as Shannon suggested?” Surely he wasn’t endorsing the idea that we join forces with a rival cartel. That was like using a rabid dog to kill a few rats. The whole thing put me in mind of the old lady who swallowed the spider; this idea had a snowball-rolling-downhill feel to it.

“I have been watching the possible outcomes,” he said softly. “And that may be your only hope.”

The words dropped into the room like lead shoes, so when Shannon crumpled her candy wrapper and Butch whined, the sounds seemed extra loud. Even my breathing rasped in my ears. Kel alone appeared unmoved by the pronouncement. My little dog covered his muzzle with his paws and burrowed deeper into my arms.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

In answer, he clicked on the television; I judged the move wholly out of character until the clicking remote stilled. Kel left it on a news channel. I didn’t understand why, but we watched for five minutes in silence. And then the presenter answered my questions in the worst possible way.

I translated the Spanish mentally and came up with: Firebomb in Mexico City. As yet no terrorist factions have claimed responsibility. Luckily there was only one fatality and the blaze did not spread to adjacent buildings. Police suspect it may have been cartel related. Gang and drug violence on the rise—Kel muted the television before the man could complete the sentence.

“No,” I breathed.

Stop, I mentally commanded the announcer. I don’t want to see—

Oh. Before the images came up on-screen, I knew. It was my shop. Kel had known before the news came on; perhaps he had been receiving a bulletin in his head. From the beginning, he might have even known I’d never see the place again, and I hated him for his distance, his surety, and his calm.

Seeing the truth made it no easier to bear. Burned plaster and chunks of cement littered the street. As the camera swung around, they showed scavengers picking through the rubble. Once again, I was homeless, reduced to what I could carry. Chance had sent my belongings as promised, including my Travis McGee book collection. All gone. Those were my things, treasures Señor Alvarez had—

One fatality. It sunk in at last, above my own misfortune. Oh God. Oh my God. He died because of me. First Ernesto, and now Señor Alvarez. Sick, I wondered how many innocents would die so that I might live. At what point should I stop running and take the bullet?

“When did this happen?” I asked hoarsely.

Shannon didn’t know, of course, but the question wasn’t for her. Kel answered readily. “Shortly after the gunman died.”

I thought about that, and came up with only one interpretation. “It was a warning. Montoya’s sorcerer must’ve known his spell went off. So now he’s telling me that no matter what I do to him, he will visit it upon me a hundredfold.”

“Yes,” Kel said. “You see why I counseled you to seek aid from one as powerful as Montoya.”

“Because you can’t just smite him,” I said nastily. “What good are you?”

Nothing I said touched him. He was made of ice and silver. “There are limits to my power, as there should be.”

The weight fell on me like my collapsed shop. When I turned to Shannon, I saw the echo of it in her eyes. She, too, had been displaced. She, too, had lost her home—for the second time in less than a year. I tried to bite back my tears, but when I saw her eyes swimming, I stopped fighting it. We went into each other’s arms and wept for everything we’d lost. I couldn’t tell her it would be okay; I had no platitudes, but I wouldn’t ever leave her. That much I could promise.

Kel stood and gave us his back. It might’ve been embarrassment at our weakness or kindness in offering privacy. “Get ready. We’re heading for Texas in an hour.”

Vagabond Blues

It took us nearly a whole day to reach Texas.

I received four texts from Jesse during that time. Something’s wrong. What’s up? He also tried to call, but the mountains played hell with reception and the connection dropped before we could talk. I replied without revealing how bad things were; there was no point in worrying him. Instead, I texted: I’m fine, try not to worry. I know you’re soaking this up and I’m sorry. I’ll explain when I see you.

As we drove, I thought about the strange dream and his sadness over me. God, I didn’t want to hurt him. Maybe it was backward of me to want to protect him, but I did. His life had been golden, with a family who loved him no matter what. I didn’t want my darkness rubbing off on him; deep down, I hoped if I ever came out on the