Chapter 8
The group descended from Nazi war criminals was meeting in secret. Observing the developer from a distance, the failure of their spell and continued major development in the area was infuriating them.
For this group, the forest had been a safe haven. Their parents and grandparents had fully indoctrinated them with the message of the SS. They believed at some point they would rise again. They would purify their race and—with the secrets contained in the occult books—they would become gods.
If tourists invaded the area, it would only be a matter of time before members of the entity were discovered. If anyone realized what their mission was before they obtained the other two books, they wouldn’t stop until there was no chance to realize their destiny.
“I don’t know why he hasn’t left,” the commandant groused. “His child must be suffering. Maybe he just doesn’t care about her.”
Another member frowned. “I cannot imagine a man who could avoid our curse. Who would be so callous to his children—besides maybe us, if sacrifice were absolutely necessary? He must be a monster. He must be stopped.”
The group glanced at each other and spoke among themselves quietly.
“This developer is becoming more than a nuisance,” the commandant said.
His second-in-command nodded. “I wish I could feed him to the crocodiles.”
“My trusted advisor and grandson will find the other books, and then the interlopers won’t matter. We will renew our commitment to world—no, universe—domination.”
“Have they reported any progress on their mission?”
“Apparently, they tracked one book to a neighborhood just outside the city. They cannot pinpoint its location unless it’s in use.”
“What does that mean? Is one of the books in use and the other not?”
“I believe the books are in the hands of someone who knows nothing about how to use them.”
“Or perhaps the books are not together. If one party has one book, and a totally separate party has the other book, they cannot be very useful. The ingredients were put in one book and the words of the spells were put in the other.”
“Yes. And we need them all. All we have is the index and some bits and pieces the elders remembered before they died. We know what the contents of all three books can do. We need those other books!”
“I was thinking about the code. I believe the page numbers refer to the words that go with the correct ingredients, and that is only known to us. If they guess incorrectly and put the wrong pages together, they will either get nothing—”
“Or get the surprise of their lives.” The second-in-command laughed out loud.
“Even that would be helpful, as long as the books aren’t destroyed. If they use the books at all, we can find them.”
“Are you sure they can’t be tracked down unless the books are being used, Commandant?” one of the younger members asked. “How did we find the area they are in?”
“And how do we know both books are in the same area if we’ve only sensed one in use?” asked another.
“We did nothing. I traced the books with a special locator spell,” the second-in-command said and rolled his eyes.
“It is a spell only an occult master can perform. I was able to narrow down the location significantly before sending the commandant’s advisor and grandson there.
I wouldn’t send them on a futile errand. ”
“Of course not. Forgive me,” the young man said.
“So… Have they reported in?” the other young man asked.
“They have. As I mentioned before, one of the books has been used, and they have tracked it to a neighborhood. The exact home is eluding them. How would I know that if they hadn’t checked in?”
The doubter seemed satisfied for the moment, although the commandant was hoping their agents would have made better progress by now.
“Perhaps you can help them with another locator spell?” someone else suggested.
The commandant snorted. “If that were possible, don’t you think I would have instructed one of my SS to do so?”
“Of course, Commandant. I apologize. It’s just very frustrating to watch what’s going on around us, knowing our ultimate mission could be in jeopardy.”
“We are doing everything we can.”
He didn’t like being questioned or having demands put upon him. It was the price of leadership, and he would not give up his seat of power, but the uncertainty was stressful.
“Why are you all sitting around?” he demanded.
The other members jumped to their feet and scattered.
Power felt good. No, power felt wunderbar. He couldn’t wait to become a god!
* * *
Sunday dinner at the Fierros’ was always a big deal.
But this was Luca’s graduation day! So many people would be gathered around the huge dining room table that two leaves had to be inserted to accommodate everyone.
Their entertaining space had become so cramped, Antonio had finally taken down the wall between the living and dining rooms.
Mrs. Fierro was in the kitchen—correction: two of the Mrs. Fierros. Misty was helping Gabriella cook. Kristine had to beg off because her mother was in labor. Being present at the birth of her little brother or sister was all she’d been talking about for months.
“I hear Dante is bringing someone today,” Misty said.
Gabriella smiled broadly. “Yes. He has a new girlfriend. He said to set another place for a young woman named Mallory. Apparently, he’s known her since high school.”
“Mallory? Not Mallory Summers.”
“Yes, I think that was her name. Why? Do you know her?”
“Yeah. I think everyone we went to school with knew Mallory, or at least knew of her. She was homecoming queen and prom queen one year. And she was nice. Not stuck up like a lot of the popular girls.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Gabriella said.
The sound of the front door opening and greetings from the living room reached Gabriella’s human ears. A paranormal would have heard them coming up the steps.
Gabriella wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Can you take over for me here, Misty dear? I need to say hello and meet Dante’s young lady.”
“Of course. I’ll stir the sauce. Don’t worry.”
Gabriella strode to the living room and was struck by the beautiful blonde standing beside her son Dante, gazing at him adoringly. Nothing could have made Gabriella happier than to have that look be her first impression of Dante’s girl.
Dante ignored all the men in the living room and strolled over to his mother, holding the girl’s hand. “Ma, I’d like you to meet Mallory Summers. Mallory, this is my mother, Gabriella.” He dropped her hand but stayed close.
Mallory shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”
The girl’s blue gaze met her own without blinking, and Gabriella was relieved that the young woman seemed sincere. She could read people well and spot a phony a mile away.
“I’m delighted to meet you too, dear! Usually, I have to tell people to call me Gabriella after they call me Mrs. Fierro a couple of times. I’m glad you felt comfortable using my first name. We’re very informal around here.”
“Yes. Dante said you were.”
Misty called out from the kitchen, “Gabriella, is the oven supposed to smoke like this?”
Everyone in the room snapped to attention. With so many firefighters in the family, you couldn’t say the word smoke without several ears perking up.
Antonio was first into the kitchen, with Gabriella right behind him. Following her were Miguel, Jayce, and Luca. Misty opened the oven door, and a billowing cloud of smoke poured out.
Gabriella spotted last night’s Pyrex baking dish with blackening Alfredo sauce. “Oh my goodness. How did that dish get in there?”
Luca grimaced. “Um…you know how you asked me to clean up the kitchen last night, Ma?”
Gabriella grabbed her oven mitts and scowled at her youngest son. “Yes. I do remember. And I remember you saying you would.”
“Well, the game was about to start,” he admitted sheepishly. “I just put the leftovers in the fridge and stuck the dish back in the oven so that the kitchen would look clean, but I’d planned to get to it later.”
“And you forgot until I preheated the oven,” Gabriella said as she extracted the burnt baking dish, still smoking. She set it on the counter and opened the back window to air out the room.
“Sorry, Mom,” Luca said.
She sighed. “Well, be careful when you’re living on your own. I don’t want one of your brothers to have to respond to a fire in your apartment building.”
“Jeez, Mom. I’m not ten. You don’t have to worry about me setting my apartment on fire.”
“You’re getting your own apartment?” Dante asked.
“Yeah. After graduation from the police academy.” Then with an embarrassed grin, he added, “Or when Mom and Dad kick me out, whichever comes first.”
Gabriella almost teared up. This was her youngest son, her baby, about to graduate from college with a degree in criminal justice. How could all of her sons be so grown-up now? Soon, her husband would be bugging her to move to a warmer climate again.
She wanted to wait until all her sons were happily married before moving so far away, and Antonio had been patient.
Well, as patient as an impatient man could be.
But now she didn’t want to move at all. They had a grandson, and hopefully more would come along.
What if anyone needed her to babysit? She couldn’t do it from the Caribbean.
She suddenly noticed her kitchen was full of faces she loved: Antonio, Jayce, Miguel, Sandra, Misty, Gabe, holding six-month-old Tony, and twenty-one-year-old Luca, even if she was a little miffed with him at the moment.
The only two she couldn’t see were Mallory and Dante. Unless she missed her guess, they were probably still in the living room, stealing kisses. The chemistry between them was obvious. She’d bet money another wedding would take place before long. What beautiful babies those two could make!
When the oven had stopped smoking, she placed the huge casserole dish of lasagna in it. She could tell by smell when something was done, but just to be on the safe side, she set the kitchen timer for sixty minutes.