She had more color in her face by the time I came back to the sitting room and her hands were steady. But the air felt thick and cloying, as if her spell had some residual effect. No breeze whipped through the open windows, and this high on the mountain, that stillness was unusual at this hour in the evening. It seemed as if the world held its breath.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked in Spanish.
“Quinientos.” Five hundred—it was more than she’d ever charged me before, and yet it wasn’t as much as it sounded.
I dug into my purse, which felt light, since Butch—my hyperintelligent Chihuahua, whose ability to sense supernatural threats had saved my bacon more than once—was with Shannon at the shop, got out my wallet, and peeled off a bill. I loved the colorful Mexican currency; my favorite was definitely the twenty. The old ones were a charming shade of purple, and the new ones blue, both so beautiful they didn’t even feel like money.
“Is there anything else we can do?” I asked, because she looked very tired, more than I had ever seen her. For the first time in our acquaintance, she looked not old, but ancient, as if a strong wind could sweep her away.
“No,” she said. “Just take the cursed thing when you go.”
After picking up the white box, Kel went to the kitchen to fetch the saltshaker. I was happy to let him take care of it.
“Are you going to be all right?”
“No.” Probably reading my expression correctly, she went on. “But because I’m an old woman, not because of this. I hope I was some help. If you want more answers or for someone to remove the curse, you need to go to Catemaco.”
I’d heard of the place, a legendary town of witches set on the mystic shores of one of Mexico’s largest lakes. “Say I do—who would I speak with?”
“Nalleli. She is the island witch. Any boatman should know of her.”
“And she’ll be able to help me?”
Tia smiled, her eyes shadowed and deep in her lined face. “Much more than I can, child.”
Kel appeared in the doorway, the white box in his hand. Presumably he had washed and stowed Eros back in the compartment alongside Psyche. Maybe it was the inveterate pawnshop owner in me, but in addition to those answers about the man who had crafted the spell, I also wanted the curse removed.
It would be irresponsible of me to sell the set to the Spanish professor, knowing one of the items was cursed. Though nothing should happen to her, since the hex was keyed to me, one never knew what might happen as spells started to decay. I didn’t want to be the reason she wound up on her kitchen floor, bleeding from the eyes, two years from now.
I also wanted to make that sale; the Spanish professor would love these. Maybe Chance thought I bought the pawnshop for lack of other options, but I really enjoyed hooking people up with junk they never knew they always wanted.
God’s Hand bowed to Tia and then we let ourselves out. Her garden smelled sweet with the freshness of growing things as we passed through. Outside the gate, the street was quiet. She lived high enough on the mountain that there wasn’t much traffic, and the park had emptied when the sun went down. It was dark and silent enough that I was glad for his presence at my side. The walk back to my shop from Tia’s place was always easier, since it was almost entirely downhill.
“We’re going to Catemaco?”
I guessed he had overheard everything, but I couldn’t get used to the idea that someone so dangerous and otherworldly would be content following me around until he received alternate orders. “Well, I am.”
“You won’t last the week without me,” he said quietly.
An odd sensation took me then, as if I’d been living on borrowed time for longer than I knew. I was supposed to perish in Kilmer, but I survived the fire that caused my mother to take her own life—only to die there so many years later—and be resuscitated by Jesse Saldana. Again I nearly died, only to be saved by the very demon I was meant to feed. Reflexively, I rubbed the hard spot on my side. It was barely perceptible, but since I knew where to touch, I could find it.
A knife went in there—and now the weapon is part of me.
“That’s good news,” I said sourly.
Kel’s gaze followed my movement; his jaw tightened. “I know about that, and it gives me no pleasure to be sworn to one so demon-touched.”
“Where were you, then? So it didn’t happen.”
“I had other orders.”
Well, of course you did.
I didn’t want to hear how much I sucked in comparison to his other jobs, so I changed the subject. “You were different with Tia. How come?”
“I behave in accordance with proximity to grace.”
It took me a minute to work that out. In that time, we cut across the silent park. In the dark, you couldn’t see the brown patches in the grass, but I heard the difference beneath my feet. “You’re saying she’s a holy woman?”
More than me, certainly. I have earthly tendencies of which a paladin could never approve.
“And shortly destined for . . . better things.”
“You mean she’s going to die soon?” My heart twanged.
I didn’t want to lose Tia; in the time I’d lived here, she had become important to me. When I came back from Kilmer, heartbroken all over again, I’d spent more than one night on her sofa, listening to her stories. Sometimes Shannon came along. In her quiet way, Tia had done more to teach me how to be self-sufficient and complete unto myself than anyone else. She’d taught me that work was often a cure for what ailed you, and that unless you learned inner contentment, you could never truly be happy.
“Is that so surprising?”
Given her age, no. Not at all. I just wasn’t ready to lose her. I’d never known my grandmother. If my dad’s parents weren’t dead when he disappeared, I never met them, and my mother might’ve been born from the forest for all I’d ever known of her family.
“I’ll miss her, that’s all.”
“You should be happy for her.”
“Oh, shut up.” Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to antagonize my protection, but as I understood it, he wasn’t going anywhere until his orders came from on high, so it didn’t matter what I said anyway. It wasn’t like he wanted to be here.
To my surprise, he did. We walked down the side street, which seemed much darker and scarier at this hour. There were no lights on inside any of the buildings, and as we passed a house with an outdoor light, something popped like a firecracker, and the lamp went out. Gunshot. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where that happened on its own. Weapons fire was pretty rare in this part of Mexico City, because laws regarding illegal guns were harsh as hell, and nobody wanted to wind up in prison here.
I couldn’t see; I didn’t know if I should run or try to hide. The street was bathed in complete darkness, and if there was a sniper on the roof with night-vision goggles, this would be like shooting fish in a barrel. As I moved, the shooter nailed me in the upper arm. The pain nearly blinded me. I swallowed a scream; if I hadn’t shifted, I’d be dead now, and he might finish the job at any second.
But I’d forgotten about Kel. He slid in behind me and used his own body as a shield. With his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me into a run. I might’ve expected him to bound off looking for the shooter, but no—his mission was clear. He had orders to protect me, and he intended to do so.
I stumbled over the broken cement and he said right beside my ear, “I can see fine. I’d lead but I need to stay behind you. So you’ll have to trust me. I’ll guide you.”
Like hell, I thought, but when he said, “Up,” I lifted my feet and managed to scramble onto the higher part of the sidewalk.