Mysterious Ways

1. Partings-2

Now I almost wished Rafe had left me downstairs, although that would have been awkward, considering that I’d been among the missing for most of the past week, hidden away at the estate Simon had borrowed…or stolen…I still wasn’t sure. The last thing I would have wanted to do was launch into an explanation for my absence, especially when I still didn’t know what Simon was up to. That was a matter which should be discussed with Louisa, now that she was prima, and anyone else she wanted to take into her confidence — most likely Rafe and her sisters, and their father.

Well, we were all here now.

The room was large, the ceiling white plaster with dark beams — what they called vigas — overhead, the walls painted a surprising deep red. At the far end of the space was a large oak four-poster bed, simple in construction, the wood pale in contrast to the blood-hued walls. On that bed lay Genoveva Castillo.

Or rather, her body. I really didn’t want to go any closer, but I knew I couldn’t hang back while the rest of the family approached that bed, ranged themselves around it. Rafe held me by the hand, some warmth now returning to his fingers. Maybe now that he’d confronted the worst of it — had actually seen his mother lying dead on her bed — he felt as though he was in a better position to handle whatever might come next.

She looked like she was asleep. That was a relief, because my mind had conjured several horrible images of a gruesome death, even though Louisa had said that everyone thought she had fainted at first. Her eyes were shut, profile still proud and elegant, even in death. Someone had folded her hands on her breast, and the large diamond on the ring finger of her left hand sparkled in the sunlight coming through the window off to one side.

Sunlight. It was hard to believe it was still only the middle of the day, that Rafe’s battle with Simon had taken place only an hour or so earlier. With everything that had happened, I thought we should now be buried in the deepest darkness.

That image sent a shiver through me, and for a brief moment I closed my eyes and recalled the bubble of protection I had cast around Rafe’s house less than an hour earlier. I cast that same spell of protection around the prima’s house now. It would be so like Simon to try something else dreadful while everyone was gathered here to mourn, and I wasn’t about to allow that.

Rafe spoke first. His voice was tight and strained, but calm enough. “Did Daniel tell you who Simon really is?”

Cat nodded, her face pale, fear showing in her dark eyes. “He did. He came and found me, showed me the information his assistant had sent him. I was about to go warn Mom when — when this happened. And afterward, I told Dad and Louisa and Malena.”

“We know what we’re up against,” Louisa said. She also sounded calm, but I could tell she was scared — her hands shook slightly, and she looked pale under her olive skin.

“I’m not sure you do,” I said, and they all turned to look at me. Faced by those combined stares, I swallowed, and wondered whether I should have waited for a more opportune moment to speak. Well, since I’d already put my foot in it, I decided to forge ahead. “Simon is — well, he’s the most powerful warlock I’ve ever encountered. We’re not talking about someone who’s confined to one particular talent. As far as I can tell, he can do pretty much whatever he wants.”

“All magic has its limits,” Louisa said, although something in her tone made me think she was only saying that because she wanted to believe it, not because she necessarily thought it was true.

“We don’t know that for sure,” I replied. “We have our traditions, and we know what witches and warlocks generally can do, but Simon…Simon is different.”

As was I, but I didn’t feel like going into all that right now. For one thing, Simon had helped to awaken my powers, had taught me how to use them, but I still didn’t know exactly how far they extended. The exercises he’d had me perform appeared to prove that I could do just about anything I set my mind to, and yet that didn’t necessarily mean a lot when contrasted with the magic Simon seemed to command. Already I’d bumped into several instances where he easily brushed my efforts aside. The last thing I wanted to do was allow the Castillos to think I might be the answer to their problems.

More like the cause of them, as far as I could tell.

“Different how?” Eduardo asked. His voice was rough with grief. Genoveva Castillo had been a difficult, prickly woman, but Eduardo had appeared to love her unreservedly. To lose her like this must have been as painful as it was shocking.

“Because of who he is,” I said. “From everything I’ve heard, Joaquin Escobar was an insanely powerful warlock. And Simon’s mother is the prima of the Santiago clan in Southern California. When you combine two strong strains of magic like that in one person, you get someone who isn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill warlock. That’s why he was able to do…this.” It would have been rude to point at Genoveva’s body, so I only inclined my head toward her before continuing. “I’ve cast a spell of protection around this house, but that’s only going to help while the people inside it are actually here.”

Grim comprehension dawned in Louisa’s face. She wasn’t quite as beautiful as her sisters, but I saw a strength in her features that reassured me. Right then, I could only hope that Genoveva hadn’t made Louisa her heir to magic simply because she was her eldest daughter. I’d had my differences with Genoveva, but surely she would have had too much integrity and concern for her clan to show that kind of favoritism.

“We have people in the clan who are skilled with defensive magic, who also know how to cast spells of protection,” Louisa said. “I will make sure that every person in this family is made safe, one way or another.” She paused, gaze flickering toward the still form on the bed for a moment. Then she went on, “Simon Escobar was able to do this because we had our guard down. I can assure you that it will not happen again.”

Malena, who had been silent up until that point, asked, “You really think we can protect every single Castillo?”

“We can, because we must,” Louisa replied. She looked over at her father, who stood near the head of the bed. “Dad, can you help get the word out?”

“Of course,” he said. In a way, he appeared almost relieved to be given something concrete to do. “But we must also make plans for your mother’s funeral.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rafe cut in. Before his gathered family members could protest, he went on, “What if Simon is just waiting for another opportunity to have us all together in one place? Bad enough that so many of us were here for Marco’s wake. You know that even more Castillos are going to show up for their prima’s funeral.”

He was right. I still didn’t know what kind of dark spell Simon had employed to strike at Genoveva, but I thought it was the sort of thing that must have required a lot of energy. It was entirely possible that he needed to rest up before he tried anything else, in which case the people assembled downstairs might be safe…for now. But whenever the funeral took place, a day from now, or two, by that time, Simon would probably be strong enough to attempt another attack.

“Are you saying we can’t bury my Genoveva?” Eduardo demanded, shock and anger clear on his handsome features.

“No, Dad, that’s not what I’m saying.” Since he stood so close to me, I could feel the tension in Rafe’s body, the way he strained to keep himself from sounding too harsh. “A private, quiet funeral, one with just the immediate family members. No big service at the cathedral. No notice in the local newspaper. We need to pay our respects, but in a way that won’t attract attention…especially Simon Escobar’s attention. Later, after all this is handled and it’s safe, we can have a memorial service for the entire clan. ”

An uneasy silence fell. I could tell that Eduardo and Malena both wanted to argue with Rafe but realized he was only pointing out a hard truth. Louisa nodded, still with that aura of strained calm. For the first time, I wondered where her husband was, and Malena’s, for that matter. Probably looking after their very young children so their wives could handle this distressing bit of family business.

And Cat — poor Cat just looked as though she wanted to go somewhere and cry for a good long while, her model-pretty face pale and strained, makeup smudged around her almond-shaped dark eyes. She was a few years older than I, but she was still the baby of the family and, at least from what I’d seen, had gotten along fairly well with her mother. I had a feeling she was taking this even harder than her sisters, who at least were married and had families of their own that required their attention. But Cat didn’t have a husband or a fiancé or even a boyfriend to watch over her, comfort her.

Right then, I thought I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated Simon Escobar. That hatred thrummed within me, hot, roiling. I knew I couldn’t give in to hate, that doing so would make me no better than he was, but I was still pretty sure that if he’d appeared before me right then, I could have reached out and snapped his neck.

“Then we’ll make sure to be as quiet about this as we can,” Louisa said, since everyone else seemed reluctant to speak. “Dad, can you talk to the bishop, let him know what we want? She’ll need some kind of service — ”

“Because if she doesn’t get a good Catholic funeral, she’ll haunt us forever,” Rafe put in.

Cat shot him a pained glance. Then again, as someone whose talent was speaking with ghosts, the specter — so to speak — of having her mother’s spirit hanging around would have to be particularly daunting. However, I had to assume that Genoveva’s soul had moved on to the next world, because otherwise Cat would have told us right away that she still lingered here.

Eduardo sent his son a narrow look, clearly letting him know that his last remark hadn’t been appreciated. However, he only said to Louisa, “Yes, I will do that. But people will become suspicious as time passes and there is no service for Genoveva.”

“Hopefully, by then we’ll have all this sorted out,” Louisa said. She let out a breath, and suddenly looked very tired. “Although I’ll admit I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do about Simon Escobar.”

“Root him out from that estate where he’s holed up and make sure he doesn’t draw another breath,” Rafe growled.

This bloodthirsty suggestion didn’t seem to faze any of the people gathered around Genoveva’s deathbed. Then again, I doubted any of her family were feeling exactly merciful, not with the way Simon had somehow reached out with his magic and extinguished her life the way someone might carelessly snuff out a candle.

“Do you think he’s even still there?” Malena asked, doubt clear in her voice. “After all, he’s done his worst. The smart thing would be for him to get far, far away from us Castillos. He has to know we’ll be looking for revenge.”