“Who’s this?” she asked, eyes wide and avid.
Good lord, she was smitten. I’d never seen her look at anyone this way, and we had some sexy neighbors. I tried to see him through her eyes—maybe it was the muscles and the tats? Along with a pair of jeans, Kel wore a plain white dress shirt, but most of the buttons were open to reveal a clean undershirt. Through the fabric showed glimmers of dark ink, as if he were a secret work of art ready to be unveiled to the right hands.
Sure, he was bald, but he had a strong jaw and those icy, mysterious eyes. Damn, now I could see it too. This was the last thing I needed.
Clearing my throat, I answered belatedly, “Kel Ferguson. He’s an old friend.”
That was true enough. With my eyes, I told him not to go into the whole Hand of God business with her. She’d probably decide his modern-day-paladin status meant he was perfect for whatever she had in mind. I didn’t like to think about it; she was almost nineteen and a boiling cauldron of hormones.
“Nice to meet you.” Kel extended a hand. Apparently, he was capable of pretending to be normal, at least for short stretches.
She shook his hand with a little quiver of pleasure. I wondered if he noticed. “I’m Shannon, Corine’s roommate.”
That was a good way to describe our situation to an outsider. I was also her mentor, helping her learn about her gift—which was summoning and speaking to the dead via vintage radio—as best I could. So far, we seemed to be doing all right. She was a lot happier and safer than she’d been in Kilmer, at least.
“You never told me about him.” She cut me a reproachful look.
I grinned. “The better to surprise you with. Now, we have an errand to run. We’ll wait until you get the food put away and then I need you to mind the shop.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
True to her word, she didn’t linger upstairs. In short order she took my place behind the counter and I picked up the white box. Maybe Tia could tell us something, and that would give us a place to start. Magick left a trail, and all its practitioners possessed an astral tell. If Tia couldn’t provide any insights, I’d call Booke, who could examine the object in the planes.
“Thanks. We’ll be back later.”
“It’s my turn to cook,” Shannon said. “Should I make enough for a guest?”
Subtle. I slid him an inquiring look. From what distance did he plan to guard me? Would it be up close and personal or did he prefer to sit outside in an SUV like they did in the movies? I felt pretty sure that holy warriors didn’t operate like spies, though.
“I was hoping you’d invite me to sleep on your couch, so dinner would be welcome.”
She brightened. “Consider yourself invited.”
“Ready?” I asked him.
He responded with a nod, so we headed out the back, which led us through a jumble of crates and piles of junk I had yet to examine. The metal door opened into an alley littered with broken pavement. Two stray dogs fought over food scraps, and I gave them a wide berth. There was no point in unleashing the fearsome fury of God’s Hand on a couple of hounds.
Heat hung in the air, making it feel dry and sharp in the lungs. Kel didn’t appear affected by it—of course he wouldn’t—but I was sweating by the time we reached the corner. He must’ve known the market was within walking distance, because he never suggested we drive.
A tangle of electrical wires hung over my street with shady trees guarding the parrot-bright buildings. Sun dappled the concrete and found bits of crystal to make it sparkle. The sidewalk was rough and uneven; he took my arm a couple of times to help me over slabs of overlapping cement. Houses with their high walls and sturdy gates gave way to businesses: a doctor’s office, a dry cleaner’s, an OXXO—a convenience store—and the comedor, where I bought my beans and rice. Overhead, the sky was too blue and beautiful for me to want to believe that somewhere in this lovely country, a powerful man wanted me dead, but if I didn’t take action, he would get his wish.
We came to a busy street, the one with the farmacia on the corner, and waited until it was clear. An old man sold flowers and magazines in the median; he raised his hand in greeting. Everyone recognized me around here, most likely because of the hair. Once a week, I walked down to buy a copy of Muy Interesante and practice my Spanish reading. Sometimes I bought un ramo de rosas too—it seemed criminal not to when one could do so for ten pesos.
At the first gap between zooming cars, Kel shepherded me across as if I’d never done this before. I cut him a look, eyes narrowed against the sunlight, and I would’ve sworn for a brief instant that God’s Hand was smiling. By the time we passed into the side street shaded by tall buildings and stately laurel trees, I decided I must’ve been mistaken.
The avenida that led to the marketplace took us up a steep incline; walking in the mountains was much harder than hiking on level ground, and by the time we reached the top, I was puffing a bit. So much for my resolution to work out—in some regards, I didn’t have much discipline.
Acacia and rubber trees lined this backstreet, and a park opened up inside the framework of buildings, after we crossed one more road. From here I could see the red awnings, where people sold fresh fruit, vegetables, cleaning supplies, clothing, knockoff designer handbags, and homemade food, along with even more interesting items. Tia offered some of the most intriguing selections you could find anywhere in the city, in fact.
Kel broke the silence at last, following my gaze up the mountain, where the market sat at the far end of the park. “Is that where we’ll find her?”
I thought he knew the answer already, but he studied my face, as if seeking confirmation. So I nodded and led him across the brownish grass. Four kids were swinging as we passed by, their cries echoing as we climbed the final hill.
My palm sweated where I held the white box; it was a little unnerving to carry something that could kill me. I didn’t want this, but Montoya’s gambit signaled an end to my hard-won peace. Deep down, I always knew the confrontation was inevitable. You didn’t do what I did and get away with it.
When we drew closer, I inhaled the scent of hot melted cheese, chorizo, and tacos al pastor. At the far end of the market, a man had set up a grill, and he was serving a queue of customers who devoured his food standing up. Kel glanced that way, and I shook my head, smiling.
“Shannon will never forgive you if you eat elsewhere. Come on. Tia’s over here.”
There’s No Dave Here
Since it was almost four when we arrived, Tia was putting away her wares. Her hair drifted in silver wisps out of its customary bun, and she had on a blue and white flowered dress with a red apron atop it. Part of her stuff sat at her feet in two bags, charms and potions to solve any ill. I wondered how she had intended to get them home, prior to our arrival.
She smiled when she spotted me. “Buenas tardes.”
Kel returned her greeting in perfectly accented Castilian Spanish. My brows rose; I wouldn’t be able to keep secrets from him in Mexico—that was for sure. Tia studied him for long moments and then extended a gnarled hand, which she rarely did. He accepted the handshake, only to have the old woman spin his palm upward and peer at it. She made a noise as if she were sucking false teeth, but those that remained in her mouth belonged to her naturally.
“Mucho gusto,” she murmured.
When she let go, I had the feeling she knew things about him that I never would, but the knowledge swam and drowned in her murky eyes; she’d never tell me what she’d seen. Tia told us to finish packing up the stall’s contents. Her home wasn’t far. Since we were here, we could help her carry things. I didn’t argue; it never did any good.