Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Mayté
Time slowed. One moment, Dominic was next to her, clinging to the table for dear life. The next, he was gone, sliding toward El Abysmo—its mouth ravenous and greedy, ready to swallow him whole.
“DOMINIC!” Mayté caught him by the arm. Her feet flew from under her, and the two plummeted toward the black hole.
She barely managed to grab part of a curtain.
It was enough to stop their momentum. She cried out.
It felt like her arm would rip off at any moment, but she refused to let go.
She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. A loud rip filled the air.
The curtain’s threads began to pop and unravel.
“Mayté.” Dominic looked back at her. His bloodstained lips curved into a half smile.
Her blood ran cold.
“Remember me, Mayté.” He shook free from her weak grip.
Mayté screamed, “No!” The force of El Abysmo dragged him into the black hole. As soon as it swallowed him, it vanished. She fell to the floor just as the curtain tore.
He was gone.
Mayté slammed her fist into the floor with a screaming sob.
Dominic.
Would the house never be satisfied? How much more horror did they have to endure?
Misterioso spoke, but she couldn’t make out his words over the roar in her ears. She didn’t want to.
She glanced at Carlos, who helped Lo back to the table.
Was it even possible to save them? Mayté didn’t know anymore.
“Senorita.” Antonio the shopkeeper knelt before her. “You must return to the table so the game can continue.”
Mayté wanted to lash out at him, but she bit her tongue. It wasn’t his fault. He was just another victim of this Dios forsaken place.
She stood on shaky legs. The gambling den was in shambles. Tables and chairs were strewn around the room, vases and statues cracked. But despite it all, the golden embellishments shone brighter than ever.
Carlos and Lo found seats at the table. Her brother looked miserable, cradling his head in hands, and Lo …
Lo looked calm. Bored, even.
“Do you remember all the times we would play Lotería with your abuela? We’d beg and beg Carlos to play with us. He never would.” Lo sighed, her eyes never leaving Mayté. “I’m glad we finally got the chance.”
She spoke so calmly. It made Mayté sick.
She slid into a seat between Lo and Carlos. What horror would await them next? She studied her board. Only a few more beans left. El Beso de la Fortuna would appear soon. Could they survive that long?
The Banker drew the next card. “El Espejo,” he called out.
Loretta and Misterioso grinned, but the Banker’s voice was devoid of any emotion. Like Lo’s.
Mayté thought of Alejandro. He had told her this place hardened a person. Made it so they couldn’t feel anything at all.
The card glowed and morphed into a full-length mirror. The reflection inside showed Lo, who smirked, pressing her palms against the inside of the glass.
“Lorena, El Espejo has chosen to challenge you,” Misterioso said. “Let us see if you can best it.”
Matching the smirk of her reflection, Lo stood and approached the mirror.
“You must face yourself, Lorena de León,” the reflection purred. “Do you have what it takes?”
“Of course I do.” Lorena stopped in front of the mirror.
“Very well,” the reflection replied. “Everything here comes at a price. And yet you kept pushing your will onto the house.”
“I know,” Lo said, voice dull. “The price was more than worth it.”
“Are you so certain?” Smirk growing, the reflection pressed both hands against the glass and leaned close. “You found your mother and gained the secrets of the house, yet you lost your dearest friend. Now nothing will ever be the same. She’ll never love you again.”
Mayté’s chest tightened.
Lo turned to her, eyes wide, and for just a moment she looked like her old self.
Mayté quickly looked away, her own heart pounding.
Lo did destroy their friendship. It had begun crumbling when she used El Cotorro on her, but the final blow was when she plunged that dagger into Alejandro’s heart.
Everything the both of them shared: hardships, hopes, dreams, wishes, memories. All of that was dead.
“I’m not sorry,” Lo whispered. “And I never will be. It was the only way to save her.”
What?
“Lo!” Carlos jumped from his seat. “Watch out—”
Lo shrieked.
Mayté turned back just as the reflection reached through the glass.
It pulled Lo inside the mirror and disappeared.
The real Lo pounded against the glass. “Let me out!” But a moment later, she stopped.
Placed her hands at her sides. Her face impassive.
Mayté’s breath caught in her throat. She had accepted her fate.
Mayté expected the mirror to vanish. Or glass shards to brutally cut into Lo, but she remained in place. Trapped. Would she stay that way for the rest of eternity?
She deserved it. Lo was a murderer. She claimed to have done this to save her, but how could Mayté believe that? She was a liar. She’d ripped out Mayté’s heart and stabbed it just like she’d stabbed Alejandro.
Mayté scoffed. The mirror. In her head, she knew it was a fitting punishment.
But her heart … Her heart couldn’t bear it.
Carlos pounded his fist against the table.
“What a shame,” Misterioso sneered.
“Truly,” Loretta agreed. “She had so much potential.” Her eyes narrowed, becoming almost as sharp as her smile. “You must be relieved, Misterioso.”
Misterioso sputtered. “That conniving girl wanted to bring down the house. I find solace that she is no longer a threat.”
“A threat,” Loretta mused. “What an interesting choice of words.”
Lo sank to her knees inside the mirror, head down, her long curls obscuring her face like a curtain.
“And we continue,” Loretta ordered, not the least bit bothered by her daughter’s fate. “Only two players left.”
Mayté blinked back tears as she stared at the mirror.
The glass of Lo’s prison was half-transparent, half-reflective.
Through that reflection, she saw the Banker frowning, a conflicted look on his face, but he didn’t falter for much longer.
“El ángelito.” The card depicted an angel clad in white robes and surrounded by golden lights.
The brightness stung Mayté’s eyes. She gasped at her reflection. The light formed a golden halo behind her head. Just like the paintings of Los Santos and the angels in the cathedrals.
“El ángelito has chosen you, María Teresa,” Misterioso announced. His mask didn’t obscure the agitated twitch in his eyes. “You must choose to restore the life of one player the game has taken.”
“R-restore?” Mayté choked. “What does that mean?”
Loretta looked bored. “The house keeps the souls of those who have perished playing the game … and those who will soon perish.” She glanced toward her daughter. “You can undo that.”
The house keeps … Mayté covered her mouth. Then that meant Alejandro, Dominic, and all the other innocents who died here didn’t have the relief of joining Dios in the afterlife. They were trapped in this el infierno for the rest of eternity.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t right.
“Wait. I could save … Alejandro!” She gasped. “Alejandro! I want to save him!” She slapped her shaking palms against the table.
“Oh.” Loretta smiled.
Misterioso chuckled.
A sob lodged itself in Mayté’s throat. “W-what …?”
“I’m afraid I should have been clearer,” Misterioso drawled. “Lorena killed Alejandro. Not the house. Not the game. He is ineligible for salvation.”
“That’s not fair!” Mayté replied.
“Ah, but as Gamemakers we can do anything we want. Fair or not.” Loretta leaned back in her seat. “Such delicious entertainment!”
A tear rolled down Mayté’s cheek. This had always been a sadistic game to them. She knew it, but it still shocked her how utterly evil these people were. She put her head on the table and wept.
A warm hand found her shoulder. “Mayté,” Carlos whispered.
Yes. She had to act. There were others she could choose. Dominic, or Carmen, or …
“Mayté.” Carlos turned his head toward the mirror, his gesture full of meaning.
Lo placed a palm against the glass. Her head bowed.
No. Lo was not one of those innocent people …
“Mayté,” Loretta said. “Who will you choose?”