Broken sobs echoed in the kitchen. Elena’s eyes blazed with fury despite the thick tears streaming down her face. She shot one last angry glance at me before she and Ramón disappeared from view.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. Moisture stung my eyes, but I was too frozen to wipe the tears away.
Soft footsteps indicated Alba was approaching me. Her hand touched my elbow, but I felt nothing.
“It isn’t your fault,” she whispered.
I didn’t respond. My mouth was open in horror and disbelief. My wide eyes stared at some random spot on the kitchen wall.
Manuel was dead. Because of me.
A lump formed in my throat, rising and growing until I was certain I’d puke. My stomach heaved, and I covered my mouth with my hands.
Out of nowhere, Alba produced a basin, and I vomited into it. Though the bile burned my already damaged throat, it was nothing compared to the pain of this realization. I couldn’t shake it from me no matter how much I puked.
Manuel was gone. Because of me.
“It’s not your fault,” Alba said again, her voice firm.
“Yes, it is,” I croaked. My voice felt far away, like I was watching from a distance. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, hunting demons with you all. I don’t know anything. I have no instincts. I don’t belong here. Elena’s right. Everything she said was true.”
Alba remained silent, her dark eyes watching me thoughtfully. “You saw something.”
My gaze snapped to her in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to change the subject. “What?”
Her chin jerked toward the storage room with cots. “Before you found out about Manuel, you charged in here looking for something. What was it?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Alba set my puke basin on the ground and clasped my hands in hers. “Desi, it’s important. What did you see?”
My voice hollow, I said, “My Familiar, Kismet.”
Alba’s gaze lifted to the wall behind me, her brow furrowing. Then she nodded. “The blond woman?”
“Yes.”
“I thought she seemed out of place among all those First Tier demons. Is she Second Tier? Or a dark witch?”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I had no clue. I knew nothing about Kismet’s past.
“Well, I suppose she must be a dark witch,” Alba said, as if in a conversation with herself. “The Council wouldn’t assign a demon to be your Familiar.” She hesitated and looked at me. “Unless that’s something that’s changed in the future?”
I shook my head numbly. A dark witch. Was she working with El Diablo? Or perhaps she was innocent? I hadn’t seen her attack anyone. Maybe she hadn’t been with the demons. Maybe she was assisting the coven.
“Did you recognize her?” I asked. Desperation laced my voice.
Sadness shone in Alba’s eyes. “No. But she was not helping you, Elena, or Manuel when we arrived.”
Meaning she wasn’t on our side. A heavy weight fell in my stomach. I exhaled a shaky breath and stared at Alba. “Alba, how? How is she alive right now? In this time?”
Alba pressed her lips together, her eyes calculating. “Is she a Teleporter?”
“No, she’s an Elemental.”
Alba frowned and stroked her chin thoughtfully. “This may not be easy for you to hear, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence she’s here at the same time you are.”
I blinked. “You think I brought her here?” But something told me this wasn’t right.
My brow furrowed. No, Kismet looked younger than I remembered. Not much older than me. But as my Familiar, she was old enough to be my mother.
This Kismet didn’t know me at all. The realization sent a shiver through me. If this Kismet looked into my eyes, she would see nothing. Nobody worth caring for.
Alba shook her head. “No. But perhaps she finds a way . . .” She trailed off, her gaze dropping.
“What?” I asked, my heart rate accelerating.
Alba sighed and looked at me, her eyes darkening. “What I most fear is that El Diablo will find a way to time travel like you. And this woman will go with him.”
Silence fell. My body felt cold and empty, but my head buzzed with thoughts and questions. Manuel. Kismet. My own weaknesses. Time travel. El Diablo. The Second Tier Wendigo.
“Desi.”
I looked at Alba. Her brow creased as she touched my arm.
“The civilians are evacuating the city today,” she said. “Some witches and warlocks are leaving as well. My coven will remain to hunt El Diablo and his followers, who will undoubtedly run rampant through the city, unchecked.” She took a breath and met my gaze. “I think you should leave the city.”
My eyes widened. “Why?”
“It isn’t safe for you here. The siege shouldn’t last much longer. The Americans overpower the Spanish significantly. Being around so many mortals should mask your scent from El Diablo, and he would be foolish to attack you in front of so many witnesses. When it’s safe, you can return and I’ll help you finish your spell and send you home. But for some reason, El Diablo has targeted you. And I am no longer equipped to keep you safe.”
Her eyes held mine for a long moment. There was something guarded in her expression. Hesitation. Caution.
“You don’t want me to hurt anyone else,” I whispered. My eyes felt hot, and I stared determinedly at the floor.
Alba didn’t respond. She squeezed my arm, but I felt dead inside.
Anger, grief, and guilt mingled in my stomach, churning and boiling until it rose up my throat again, choking me. Suffocating me. My shaking fingers touched the bruises on my throat and found the chain of the flask necklace Alba had given me.
I had everything I needed for the spell. I just needed enough power to cast it.
I needed to leave here before someone else died because of me. Before my presence did any more damage. El Diablo was hunting me. And too many people were getting hurt in the crossfire.
I nodded, still staring at the floor.
