Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
East Hialeah had turned unrecognizable in the last decade, another thing for Zuri to worry about. Gone were the days of water, mud, and factories , the derogatory slogan that had been slapped on the city by its snobby neighbors. Now, gentrification had brought shit like microbreweries and glassy buildings in place of small business and affordable housing.
“This is so cool,” Marisol said from the passenger seat. “I didn’t know Hialeah was like this. The city that progresses, right?” She pointed at the industrial park that had been converted into an arts district. Every building was covered in a different mural with tattoo parlors and art galleries and retail stores tucked inside.
“It’s not.” Zuri’s gaze flicked to her rearview mirror. To the black SUV with opaque window tints. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, hating the sensation of being followed.
At least Elena’s vamp dogs were staying a few car-lengths behind while they traded city activity for the desolate limestone quarry. When she made it to the end of the unmarked access road that turned bumpy as they neared what used to be a cement manufacturer, she hit her hazards. The signal that they stop there and wait. As soon as the SUV pulled into an empty gravel pit, she relaxed her grip.
Zuri might have agreed to bring Elena’s guys so she’d shut the hell up, but she wasn’t going to let them near The Roads. At least Elena hadn’t fought her on the Librada veto. Even if the woman didn’t scream vampire from a thousand miles away, Zuri wouldn’t trust her.
For as long as Zuri had been in Elena’s orbit, she hadn’t learned a single fucking thing about Librada. That was weird. At least Sofia was openly a homicidal maniac, and she used her impulses to hand out vigilante justice. A cause Zuri supported enthusiastically. But Librada was unreadable, unknowable, and that could only mean untrustworthy.
“Is the market outside?” Marisol craned her neck, loose dark blonde hair spilling over the top of her shoulder. “It’s going to start pouring.”
Heavy gray clouds rolled in above them like they were running late and trying to make up time. Double checking that the SUV was still parked at a distance where only vampire sight could see the market entrance, Zuri hit the gas.
“Jesus.” Marisol grabbed the armrest and chuckled. “Are you made of sugar? Afraid of melting?”
The reminder of what her grandmother used to say in Spanish eased the tension coiled like a spring in her belly. Marisol was visible in her periphery—all freckled skin and long, flushed neck. She was so beautiful. So dangerous. It’s not that Zuri hadn’t already accepted that she was in too deep, it’s that she couldn’t find the will to get out of the water.
She waited to respond until she reached the enormous metal shelter that could double as an airport hanger. Parked on the side with several dozen other cars, Zuri offered Marisol a tiny smirk. “Getting wet in public isn’t my thing, Bambi. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Instead of being shocked, Marisol bit her bottom lip. Despite the fierce blush on her skin, she held Zuri’s gaze and responded, “I doubt that there’s anything that’s not your thing.” She moistened her lips. “Or that you could ever disappoint.”
Zuri was tempted to give in—to kiss her, to confess that she didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Ever since she’d decided to ask Elena for help, things had only spiraled further out of control. Maybe the three of them should take off, start over somewhere else—somewhere free of impossible expectations and bone-crushing responsibility.
But she didn’t give in. If she let herself come loose in the slightest, she’d unravel. And she’d be no use to anyone if she crumbled.
Umbrella tucked in her bag for the imminent downpour, Zuri bounded out of the car and started for the entrance. Yanking open the aluminum door, she waited for Marisol to walk in first.
“Whoa,” Marisol muttered like Zuri hoped she would.
The Roads was an explosion of sights and smells and sounds. Instead of stalls laid out in rows, vendors of all kinds spiraled out from the center of the space like an octopus unfurling her tentacles. The scent of incense mixed with dried herbs and the smells from the grill always burning at the heart of the market.
“I didn’t know it would be so big,” Marisol said, following closely next to Zuri while they started for their destination.
Without thinking about it, Zuri took her hand, making it clear that Marisol was hers. That she belonged. Intertwining their fingers like they walked like that all the time, Marisol’s skin was soft and warm against hers.
“Even magic gets commodified,” she joked to stop the swell of anxiety that had slammed into her unexpectedly.
With so many people milling around them, she suddenly felt exposed. Maybe they should have stayed locked in Elena’s extravagant birdcage. At least until they’d dealt with Elena’s bullshit.
Glancing around the market she confirmed that there were no vampires in their immediate area. There was no reason for Zuri to fear her own kind. They didn’t care about vampire intrigue. It had nothing to do with them… usually.
They stopped in front of an amulet shop. Silver and gold and copper and iron pieces shimmered under flood lights perched far above them.
“Looking for something in particular?” the girl with a buzz cut like the rest of her coven sisters asked when she approached the counter.
Marisol looked up from the case of pendants. Knowing what she was thinking by the way she pressed her hand to her own necklace tucked inside her tank top, Zuri spoke before she could open her mouth.
“Just browsing,” Zuri replied.
“We just got some gorgeous brass rings.” She gestured to a case at the corner of her narrow booth. “Excellent for bringing out the truth of things.”
When the girl drifted toward a customer bringing in something for repair, Zuri squeezed Marisol’s hand. Silently, she told her with her eyes to keep her pendant hidden. They would find out if there was more to learn about it, but she wanted to be careful who they asked, cautious about what they revealed. As if she could hear Zuri’s thoughts, Marisol followed her down the winding aisle without a word.
“Have you ever had your cards read?” Marisol asked when they strolled by a white tent draped in colorful fabrics. Decks of Tarot cards and the Spanish playing cards most Miami witches preferred were displayed like hundreds of small art pieces.
“Only a million times,” she replied with a shrug.
Marisol’s hazel eyes were so wide. So overwhelmed by all the new things assaulting her senses. So full of excitement. Zuri stopped to give her the chance to look at the cards.
“If you want to do it, Avani will read them for you.”
Looking away from a black and white abstract deck, Marisol met her gaze. “Who is that?”
Zuri wanted to explain her connection to Avani and Candela. Say that they were the only witches that felt like her sisters anymore. But instead she said, “A friend.”
Thunder cracked outside a moment before rain pelted the metal roof. Deciding there was no reason to hurry, Zuri led Marisol around the market. As she showed her imbued candles and enchanted tokens aimed at tasks as small as warding off the evil eye and as big as severing marital ties, Zuri relaxed into the joy of sharing herself with Marisol.
She skipped the stalls dedicated to black magic on the very edge of the market. Marisol didn’t need to know there was another side to her practice. That anything could be used for a sinister purpose.
Finally stopping at the only place she’d intended to visit, Zuri led Marisol into a store the size of a massive wedding tent. Greeting a woman she’d known since she was a kid, Zuri tried to gather intel while she picked up ward supplies. Other than the gossip about vampire infighting Zuri already knew, she got nothing. She hadn’t been counting on helpful gossip, but it would have been nice to get something useful.
“This place is so cool,” Marisol whispered while they walked, attention fixed on one of the few Salem descendants living among the Caribbean based witches. Seated at her small stand, surrounded by hundreds of bound leather books, she appeared to be asleep though Zuri knew better.
“I wish we had familiars,” Zuri admitted, watching the woman’s glossy black cat resting casually over her shoulders like a living stole. Its yellow eyes followed them with mild interest before deciding there was nothing to see and licking its paw.
“What does it do?” Marisol asked, voice still low over the sound of conversations.
“Probably ensnare your soul,” she joked, handing Marisol two huge canvas bags so she could dig out the umbrella. Unfortunately for them, the rain was only getting heavier the longer they waited. It was going to be such a pain in the fucking ass to do her hair again when they got home.
Home, ha. I’m losing my fucking mind.
She’d positioned the umbrella over both of them just before pushing open the door leading out to the parking area.
“Don’t try to cover both of us,” Marisol said and refused to give Zuri the bags. “Just unlock the car and I’ll make a run for it.”
“You’ll get wet,” Zuri snapped.
Marisol grinned. “I know.” Her lips were on Zuri’s a second before she was bolting out into the sloshing rain making huge puddles in the gravel.
With a begrudging chuckle, Zuri darted out behind her. She was a foot from her car when there was a hard yank on her neck and then a forceful shove. The ground was rushing up to meet her before her brain caught up to her surroundings.
Rocks dug into every part of her body, but she stretched her neck to keep her face from landing in a milky puddle.
“The fuck?” Zuri dropped her purse and let go of her umbrella, but there was no getting up. Not with a weight pressed into the middle of her back. Zuri couldn’t move an inch. Panic and rage and violence burst through every extremity, making her fight harder. “Get the fuck off of me!”
The weight between her shoulder blades increased and she realized it was a boot. Oh, hell fuck no. With a guttural scream she pushed off the ground, rocks biting into her palms, cutting her skin.
“Don’t squirm, witch,” a man said. “My mommy taught me not to play with my food.”
Zuri froze, head turning as far back as she could manage. Not a man. A vampire.
“Zuri!” The fear in Marisol’s voice snatched the air from Zuri’s lungs. She struggled harder, but she couldn’t see her. All she could see were vampires covered head to toe in black to protect them from the sun hidden behind every fucking cloud on the planet.
“I’m going to tear your heart out and shove it down your fucking throat,” Zuri swore, rage a deafening pulse in her ears, just before he kicked her.