Spellbound

Chapter 1-2

From the outside, the Florence prison facility didn’t look nearly as intimidating as Danica had thought it would. All right, it was surrounded by tall fences topped by curls of barbed wire, and it seemed to be baking under the glare of the early September sun, but the buildings themselves looked new and sleek, some sections even covered in cheery bright red paint.

She sort of doubted the inmates thought of the place as cheery, however, no matter what color it had been painted.

The heat struck her as soon as she opened the door to her Land Rover and got out. Blinking behind her sunglasses, she followed the sign to the visitors’ intake area. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one coming to see an inmate this brutally hot afternoon; she found herself surrounded by a crowd of people, the majority of them women, and many of them with children in tow. That had to be rough, to only see your father a few times a year during visiting hours.

Thank God Matías had no real family of his own, only a sister he barely spoke to.

Despite the stifling heat, Danica had made sure to dress conservatively, so she was covered up, in jeans and a short-sleeved peasant top and ballet flats. The last thing she needed, after steeling herself to come here at all, was to be turned back because the officer in charge of the visiting room decided she was showing too much skin. Not that she really wanted to give Matías a show. He’d already seen enough of her body.

She had her driver’s license out so she could show it to the officer on duty. His dark eyes flicked over it in a bored way, and then he checked a box on the sheet attached to the clipboard he held. “That way,” he said, jerking a thumb over one shoulder. “Follow the signs.”

Well, she was in it now. If she turned tail and fled, she might attract attention, even when surrounded by so many people consumed by their own worries. Swallowing, she followed the stream of visitors to a big room where the far wall was configured as a row of cubicles with small windows looking into them. In front of each window stood a small wooden-topped stool attached to the wall by a metal arm.

Danica had seen these sorts of setups in movies and television, but in person they appeared far more intimidating. More guards stood near the doors, and she walked up to the closest deputy and murmured, “Matías Escobar.”

The guard pointed to the cubicle up against the farthest wall. “Over there.”

She couldn’t really feel relieved, not considering her surroundings, but she was slightly heartened that Matías had been assigned the cubicle over by the wall. At least that way she’d only have another visitor on one side of her, instead of both. The sorts of questions she intended to ask weren’t exactly things she wanted overheard.

As she looked over at the cubicle, she saw a man approach and take the seat there. At once her heart begin slamming away in her chest. Never mind that she knew Matías couldn’t hurt her ever again, that Angela and Connor Wilcox had burned the magic right out of him as their own form of punishment for his transgressions. It still took every ounce of willpower she possessed to force her feet to move in that direction, to propel her over to the stool that sat in front of the cubicle where Matías waited for her.

Somehow she made it, then sank down onto the hard surface of the provided seat. Not looking directly at Matías, she reached out and picked up the phone receiver attached to the wall. He did the same thing at almost the same time.

That hated voice, the one which still echoed in her dreams, came through the handset. “Hey, chica. Didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

She bristled. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, sure…Danica.”

As much as she didn’t want to, she made herself lift her eyes to his. A dark, mocking gaze met hers, but she didn’t blink. She wanted to see him, to commit every feature to memory when her mind wasn’t in a fog of his making.

In a way, she’d hoped all her memories of him would be false, that he’d made himself far more attractive in the magical brain haze he’d cast on her than he actually was in real life. But as she stared at him, she realized he truly was very good-looking, with those strong brows and straight nose and long-lashed black eyes. His hair was much shorter now, shaved down to almost stubble, and fresh tattoos marked his hands and arms. Still, she would have recognized him.

For months she’d imagined what she would say to Matías if she ever saw him again, but now, confronted by the reality of his presence, she found her mouth dry, the words she’d intended to utter choking in her throat. This was insane. She’d driven out to the back end of nowhere, and now she was just sitting here like an i***t, and —

“You look good,” Matías said. “Of course, you always looked good.” He smiled then, a slow, lascivious smile that told her he was remembering the nights they’d spent together.

Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Hands tightening on the knees of her jeans, she replied, “I can’t say the same for you.”

His smile only broadened. “That’s kind of harsh, Dani.” He ran one hand over the dark stubble on his head. “You don’t like my prison ’do? But then, I do kind of remember you hanging onto my hair while I — ”

“Stop it.” Pausing, she risked a quick glance at the woman who occupied the stool next to hers, but she was hanging on to the phone receiver like it was a lifeline and speaking rapidly in Spanish, tears coursing down her cheeks. Unnerved by the display of emotion, Danica returned her attention to Matías. “You were making me do all that s**t. I certainly didn’t enjoy any of it.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Son of a b***h. She pulled the phone away from her ear and began to reach toward the cubicle wall so she could hang up. At once Matías’ voice came from the speaker.

“Sorry. Sorry. Don’t — don’t hang up.”

Eyes narrowing, she brought the phone back to her ear. “Then stop talking about that crap.”

“I will.”

He didn’t exactly sound contrite, but at least it was a start. She drew in a breath before asking, “Have you seen your sister?”

His eyebrows lifted at Danica’s words. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her to ask that question. “Right after I was put in here. Not since.”

Well, it was a long way from California to the prison here in Florence, Arizona, and Matías’ sister Olivia had an infant to take care of. Danica kind of doubted that the young woman’s civilian husband would much appreciate having his wife leave the baby with him so she could visit her jailbird warlock brother in prison.

She hesitated, not sure what she should say next. Matías shifted in his chair and sent her a piercing look.

“Why are you here, chica? I mean, really…why?”

Her stomach was so knotted with tension that she didn’t even bother to reprimand him for using that hated endearment. Now she understood why the woman in the cubicle next to hers was hanging on to that phone as if it were the only thing keeping her from drowning. Because sometimes when your world felt like it was falling apart, you needed something solid to hold on to. Danica could feel the hard plastic begin to slip under her sweat-dampened fingers. “I — I had to ask you something.”

Another lift of his eyebrows. “Sorry, Danica…the good state of Arizona doesn’t allow conjugal visits.”

She scowled at the implication. “f**k you, Matías.”

“I wish.”

God, this was the dumbest idea in the history of dumb ideas. Blood boiling, she once again moved to hang up the phone, and once again his voice stopped her.

“Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

The note of contrition in his voice was almost genuine. She shot him a wary glance and waited, ready to end the call the second he said something out of line again.

“I want to hear what you wanted to ask me.”

She hesitated. He sat there quietly, gaze fixed on her face, but he did look almost…well, not exactly sorry, but the mocking glint had gone from his eyes.

“Please.”

Had Matías ever said “please” to anyone in his entire life? Maybe when he was trying to get into the pants of the Santiago clan’s first daughter, back in California before he’d come to Arizona, but Danica wasn’t even sure about that.

This is why you came here, she told herself. So just do it.

Gathering a breath, she said quietly, “I need to know why.”

“‘Why’?” he repeated, looking confused. “Why what? Why’d I do it? You know that. I wanted a chance to be in charge. To be somebody.”

No, she knew that. His methods were unthinkable, but at least she almost understood his motivations. He’d felt on the edge of things his whole life, allowed to be part of the Santiago clan on sufferance because of his refugee mother’s healing gifts, but never really belonging to it. He’d seen the chance to seize the de la Paz family’s prima-in-waiting as a way of getting the control he’d always wanted. It was horrible, but it was understandable.

“Not that,” Danica replied, knowing she sounded desperate. In that moment, though, she didn’t much care. “Why…me?”

Why did you spare me, when you bled Roslyn dry to power your hideous spells?

That was the question which lurked, unspoken, in her mind, but Matías seemed to understand. He shifted on his stool, eyes moving away from hers. For the first time, he appeared almost nervous. Nervous? That was a laugh. Matías was too full of himself, even stripped of his powers as he was now, to ever be truly ill at ease.

Then he said, “I liked you.”

“Oh, please.”

“No, I did.” This time he did look at her, dark eyes narrowed. “You think I’m lying?”

She gave a helpless little shrug. Right then she didn’t know what to think.

“That was my plan at first,” he went on. “You know, to use both of you, alternating, so you’d last longer.”

She shuddered. Maybe he didn’t notice, because he went on,

“But then I decided that I didn’t want to do that.”

“Because you liked me.” Why he would have preferred her over a golden girl like Roslyn….

“Yeah. I thought….” The words died away, and he shook his head before beginning again. “I don’t know what the f**k I thought. That sure, I’d get Zoe because I needed the access to her prima powers, but that would just be for show. I’d still have you.”

“What, as your little piece on the side?”

“I guess.”

What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Was she supposed to feel grateful that this sociopath had thought she was hot, and so he’d keep her around as his bed buddy, even while he used the prima-in-waiting of the de la Paz clan as his personal steppingstone to power?

“That’s messed up, Matías.”

“It’s the truth.”

A long pause. He seemed to be watching her, waiting for her reaction, but all she could feel was an odd sort of numbness. It somehow seemed even more awful to know that Roslyn had died because Matías had decided he didn’t want to use Danica in the way he’d originally intended.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Thanks for being honest, I guess.”

This time she did hang up the phone.

He made no move to stop her.