Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Iwoke up with a head full of cotton, and my mouth dry as December seedpods. The air crackled, tinged with sulfur, as if a thousand matches were lit at once. I crawled to a sitting position and rubbed at my eyes, the images and sounds flooding my memory, along with crunching.
“Juice?”
The voice seemed disembodied, but the recognition seeped in. Fabra sat with a glass of my pomegranate juice and a bag of rice cakes beside her. That explained the crunching.
“You’re still here?” I asked, rubbing my face to clear my head.
“Your hex, remember?” Fabra said through a mouthful of rice cake.
“Ranth?” I asked, scanning the room, but the sinking hollow in my chest told me he was already gone. Since the curse split, his proximity was wider but now, how far away was he?
“The gang took him. Can I leave now too?”
“Sure, you can take me to your leader.” I used the wall to haul myself up.
She laughed. I was even more furious. I pulled out my phone.
I’d only been out for ten minutes. A gas mask lay on the floor beside her, and the metal canister of the smoke bomb had rolled against the wall.
Fabra had opened a couple of windows, and I sucked in sulfur-tinged fresh air, longing to run outside into the singed garden and soak up the green energy. My pocket vibrated. It was Ori.
“That file you sent, where did you get it?” Her voice was shaky.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s… I’ll tell you when I get there. I’m on my way. Those other emails, I have Juke working on. Trying to get us a source.”
“Hang on. Don’t come here. They took Ranth, and they might still be watching the house. I’ll meet you—I’ll text you where.”
“Took Ranth? Who? The Marahk? Is that who had the file?”
“Yes, and I’ve got company at the moment.”
“You okay? Should I call Rose?”
“Hmm. That’s a good idea. Meet me in twenty? Get me a chai with a couple hits of protein.”
“Done. Be safe.”
“You too.”
I stared at Fabra, my brain running through scenarios.
“What?” she asked, standing up. A fountain of crumbs showered onto the floor.
She set the glass down beside the older empty glass.
I guess she didn’t do her own dishes. That made me reevaluate her.
Her outfit wasn’t cheap. The black nails were short but salon painted.
Her hair had been cut recently by a pro.
She had rings on her fingers, and the boots were from the famed leather place in the Mission; I’d bet on it.
Either the Ahknim bankrolled her, or she was from money.
I texted Ori to look up the email with a reference to Fabra, a twenty-five-ish, white female from a wealthy background, along with the direction to meet at Zeke’s café around the corner.
“What’s the plan, ‘Rel? Can I go now?”
I rubbed my moon necklace. “You’re taking me to Ranth.”
“No can do, babe. He’s in the secret zone. Members only. You understand.” She brushed a couple more crumbs onto my floor and kicked some of the wormwood as she walked toward the door.
“Leaving? Time to go? Do your remove-the-hex thing.” She waved at the entrance, and I considered exactly what my options were.
To go to the cafe, I’d have to leave Fabra here, which would weaken my spell since my own energy would be removed from it. I could bind her to me, but that would be magic I wasn’t comfortable using. I could let her go and follow her. Or I could attach some sort of tracking device.
She was tapping her foot and looking at me as if her next option would be to kill me.
Honestly, I didn’t know why she hadn’t tried that.
According to the quick glances I’d had at the emails, she had been told to “do what it takes” to get Ranth back.
I wasn’t used to dealing with ruthless human beings.
Demons I had no problem killing, but harming humans went against everything I’d been taught.
Call me a good witch or whatever you want.
As far as magic was concerned, if it didn’t help in a positive way, it could be used for positive defense, and that’s where it ended.
I went with the tracer. Fabra already had my food inside her. With the wheatgrass and bee pollen, it shouldn’t be too hard to cast a spell to find her. It was going to weaken me to a dangerous point, but I had no choice.
“I’ll let you leave, but I want your necklace or your jacket. Your choice.” I might not even need those, but it was satisfying to watch Fabra’s face go from desperate-to-leave to abject displeasure.
“Not a chance ‘Rel, I need both for the job.”
“Bet you don’t. Give up one and you can go. Otherwise, I’ll let you rot here, and I’ll go see my friends.”
“I doubt you’ll do that,” she said. Walking over to the framed family tree on the wall my grandmother had water colored, she slung it across the room. It smashed into the prized Guiana chestnut tree Mrs. Finnegan pampered like a second child, the glass shattering into spiderwebs.
I almost lost it. I closed my eyes as she picked up a vase my mother had hand thrown.
“Fine, you can go before you become more of a pain in the astragalus. But don’t think you won’t be seeing me,” I said as I walked to the door and opened it.
Fabra made a harrumph as she stepped around me, shoving the vase into my arms. Before she made it over the threshold, I grabbed a handful of her hair.
She screeched, “Fuck you,” and attempted to backhand me. The house shifted, and the floor rattled, throwing us both off-balance, but I had gotten a couple of hairs and stuffed my treasure behind my back. She flew out the door and down the stairs.
Next time, I’d be seeing her on my terms.