My eyes followed his as blistering agony tugged at my brain. I struggled to focus on the scene before me. A blur of shadows and shapes flew around my vision. Glowing blue orbs burst from one end of the cave to the other. I couldn’t process everything—just bits and pieces. Screams. Blasts of magic. Werewolves, vampires, and . . .
A figure engulfed in flame. El Diablo.
“There,” I muttered weakly. My eyes closed against pain and fatigue. “El Diablo. Fire.”
My eyes fluttered back open to find Oliver staring at El Diablo with hatred burning in his gaze. Oliver ticked his jaw back and forth as if contemplating. He looked back at me. “I’m not leaving you, Desi. The coven will handle El Diablo.”
My eyelids flickered open and shut. My brow furrowed as I tried to focus. I leaned toward Oliver and touched his cheek with trembling fingers. Light, scruffy stubble tickled my hand.
Oliver’s eyes widened and peered into mine with curiosity and affection.
“Stay with me,” I mumbled. My eyes closed.
“I will,” he whispered.
Chapter 14
FLAMES BURNED AGAINST me. Blood dripped down my neck. A low, throaty chuckle sent shivers down my spine. Pain consumed me, and I screamed and thrashed.
Then I stilled. The heat and blood and laughter vanished.
It’s just a nightmare. Just another nightmare.
Pungent aromas wafted around me. Mint, ginger, and some smells that I couldn’t place. The warm air surrounding me reeked of tea.
I turned my head, trying to make sense of the smells. Slowly, my eyes opened. Light welcomed me back to consciousness, and I exhaled in relief. I almost sobbed with gratitude that my surroundings were different from my nightmares.
I shifted, and a chiding voice beside me tisked in disapproval.
“Stay there,” a woman said firmly, pushing back on my shoulders before I could sit up.
I blinked and squinted at her. Alba. My eyes slid across the room. I was lying on a cot in the back room of the restaurant. A tray rested at the foot of the cot with various jars of herbs, incense, and other strange looking things. In the back of the room, the woman with the turban, the prisoner who had banished the demon, was sitting quietly on one of the cots.
“What—” I started, trying to sit up.
Alba pushed my shoulder again until I lay flat. She pursed her lips and lifted something to my nose.
I inhaled, and a sharp, metallic scent erupted in my nostrils. I coughed and gagged, my eyes widening.
“Good,” Alba said, as if my reaction satisfied her. She set a jar down on the tray. “Now eat.” She thrust a hot bowl of stew into my hands.
As I slurped the flavorful soup, I asked between mouthfuls, “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
I shuddered. “El Diablo. He . . .” I set the bowl on my lap and gingerly fingered my throat. Thick bandages covered my neck. Large scabs spotted my cheek and chin from El Diablo’s burns.
I swallowed my bite of food, suddenly losing my appetite. I pointed to my neck. “Is he—will I—?” I choked on my words.
Alba shook her head. “No. There must be a significant amount of vampire venom in you to complete the transformation. Even more so because you’re a witch.”
I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth, trying to steady my racing heart. “How did you find me?”
“Oliver.”
Warmth radiated in my chest. He could’ve just left me there. I meant nothing to him. “But—”
“He escaped with the prisoners you freed,” Alba explained, her gaze drifting to the woman in the corner who still hadn’t spoken. “He found us. Ramón is a tracker and discovered your location.”
A hot lump formed in my throat as I stared absently at my soup. “You didn’t—you shouldn’t have—” Lilith, why can’t I speak?
A soft smile lifted Alba’s lips, and she leaned closer to me and patted my knee. “You are part of this coven, Desi. Even if only for a little while. I promised I would help you. It’s the least I could do after your success with the mission. Those prisoners you freed owe you a great debt.”
I blinked the moisture out of my eyes and glanced at the woman with the turban.
Before I could ask, Alba gestured to the woman, who rose to her feet. “This is Sofia, a friend and valuable asset to our coven.”
“It is an honor to meet the woman who saved my life.” Sofia said, her voice soft and gentle—quite different from Alba’s strong, firm timbre. A warm smile lit her face.
I squirmed in my cot, uncomfortable with her praise. “What does El Diablo want with you?” A sinking feeling in my stomach told me I already knew. But I needed her to say it.
Sofia clasped her hands in front of her, making her look regal. Her chin lifted as she said, “He wanted many things. He wanted me to turn on my people. And he wanted me to reveal the secret to traveling through time.”
I frowned. “Turn on your people? Like, other witches?”
“No,” Sofia said. “I am a priestess of Santería.” She scrunched her lips as she eyed me curiously. “What do you know about Santería?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Manuel said something about how some healers practice Santería and use their magic.” I glanced briefly at Alba, who nodded in agreement.
“This is true,” Sofia said. “Some covens also practice Santería. When a healer taps into their magic while performing Lucumí, a powerful magic is born. Before someone can become an official Santero, or priest, they must go through a cleansing period. They must only wear white and seclude themselves from non-Santeros.”
My eyes widened. “The Santeros in the cave—”
“—were dressed in white, yes. El Diablo has been hunting those of us who aren’t yet initiated. On the cusp of their year of purity, the Santeros are closest to the divine power of the Orichás, or saints. They possess the purest form of power for a Santero.”
“And El Diablo is somehow harnessing that power?” I asked, frowning.
“There is great power in
