After scrubbing off the heavy makeup, removing Catrina's jewelry, and putting on her own clothes, Gabriela looked like herself again-but she didn't quite feel like herself, and it wasn't just the exhaustion speaking, either. Although she knew her thoughts were illogical, she was haunted by the possibility that getting possessed had somehow irreparably tainted her.
Perhaps one day she would lose that fear, but she didn't believe that the guilt and self-loathing would ever go away. None of this would have happened in the first place if she had just remembered to wear her amulet! She hated herself for letting a mere ghost get the better of her-her, a powerful witch-and was sickened by the pain and trauma she had unwittingly inflicted on Dario, her mother, and PJ.
It could have been a lot worse, Gabriela reminded herself with a shudder. She wondered how many innocent lives would have been snuffed out had she been possessed by a goddess instead. The promise of unlimited power and being free of suffering no longer justified the devastating outcome.
Gabriela couldn't help but imagine the lecture her father would have given her in his gravelly voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head with her hands clamped over her ears, as if by doing so she could silence his fictional shouting: "You stupid girl! This is all your fault! I told you not to take off the amulet! You're weak, Gabriela-a poor excuse for a witch!" He would have further emphasized his disappointment with a hard slap to the face.
Thinking about Antonio caused righteous fury to flood her every cell. A jaguar growl reverberated throughout the small bathroom as Gabriela's eyes popped open and she yanked her hair into a low ponytail. Her reflection's expression in the mirror above the bathroom sink conveyed murderous intent. No matter how cruel that bastard had been to her, her suffering was nothing compared to the abuse and murder of her mother. And what about Dario and Matanza? Had that son of a bitch hurt them, too?
She gave the doorknob a sharp twist, hit the light, and walked slowly down the hallway. It was so tempting to run straight to him and torture him to death using the slowest, most excruciating method she could dream up. Either that or drink or snort coke until she had succeeded at blotting out every single tragic tale Catrina had told her. But she didn't want to disappoint Mama-Mama's ghost-or her brothers, both of whom seemed to love her very much. And Dario was right: they really needed to come up with a plan first.
Someone-probably Dario-had thoughtfully relocated the bloody dagger, returned the fallen chair to an upright position, and placed the red bull back on the coffee table. Unsurprisingly, Dario was wearing a crisp black dress shirt identical to the shredded one he had discarded. With the sleeves rolled down, the only remaining evidence of the frenzied attack on him was the band-aid plastered on his forehead. Although he stood and smiled brightly at Gabriela when she entered the living room, she couldn't help but fear that he would be reminded of his homicidal mother every single time he looked at her. Did he secretly blame her? Because she certainly blamed herself...
She stopped in her tracks when she witnessed Catrina rise from her armchair and collect a narrow, white cardboard box off the coffee table. "Are those donuts?" The food was a welcome distraction from the morbid turn her thoughts had taken.
Catrina nodded. The smile that followed looked almost impish. "The Worldwide Underground graciously agreed to share their leftovers. They are for you and your brother."
"Brothers." Matanza deserved a treat, too...Gabriela sincerely doubted that anyone from the Worldwide Underground had willingly given Catrina anything. She probably hadn't even bothered to ask permission before leaving with the donuts, but, given that Gabriela had a tendency to steal anything that caught her eye, she held her tongue.
Dario balanced the plate containing Matanza's breakfast in one hand. "Ready to go?"
Gabriela experienced a jolt of anxiety as she unclasped the chain of her amulet and stuffed the jewelry into a front pocket on her jeans. "I'm always ready to go to the Temple."
He grinned. "Spoken like a true Cueto."
Catrina passed the donuts to Gabriela, stepped between the siblings, and took their free hands in order to bring them to the darkened room where Matanza awaited. Her skin was cool to the touch, and Gabriela let go as soon as her teleporting-induced dizziness subsided.
"Sister!" The instant he spotted Gabriela, Matanza rushed to the front of his cell and began shaking the bars. With a delighted grin, she limped over to him. Somehow, she had incurred a sore knee and bruised, swollen wrists while possessed, but they were minor injuries at best.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were his favorite," Dario teased with a mock hurt expression as he followed her. He brought over the plate of raw ground hamburger and slid it into the slot towards the bottom of the cell, but his offering was ignored.
Gabriela laughed and stepped back when Matanza reached between the bars and attempted to pry the box of donuts out of her fingers. "He's just excited because I'm new and I bring him sweets. The novelty will wear off eventually." But she would always be thrilled to see Matanza, because he was content to let her talk as long as she wanted without interrupting or changing the subject.
"I'm not so sure about that." Dario walked off, and, soon after, a scraping sound attracted Gabriela's attention. She turned to watch him drag a wooden stool into the center of the room. He asked her for the donuts, opened the box, and placed it on top with a smile and a flourish. "I'll give you first choice, Gabriela. Catrina, can you bring the chairs from my office up here? I want my sister to feel at home."
His attempt to make the grimy, dilapidated Temple more welcoming for Gabriela further lifted her spirits. "I already feel at home here, Dario." Hell, this was the only place she had ever truly felt "at home." She expected Catrina to act belligerent over being ordered around, but she raised no objections and left at once.
Dario's expression turned contemplative. "I'm not surprised you feel that way. Nobody has more of a claim to the Temple than you and Matanza-not even me." His speech captured Gabriela's exact sentiment. As Aztec-Cuetos with supernatural powers, both embodied the diverse elements that were central themes in Lucha Underground and the Temple. "There will always be a place for you here, little sister."
Gabriela's smile widened. "I'm glad you feel that way." Dario's promise alleviated her disappointment over losing her new job before her first day at work, because, now that she knew he had crawled out of the grave, she didn't have the heart to fight him for control of Lucha Underground. And, honestly, sitting behind a desk dreaming up matches and making the occasional announcement didn't sound all that exciting to her-unlike, say, jumping from the roof of that office...Gabriela would much rather be where the action was, even if it meant surrendering the intoxicating power and prestige that came with reigning over the Temple.
Catrina teleported in and out with one chair at a time until there were four gathered around the table. Gabriela selected the one positioned closest to Matanza's cell and Dario sat to her left. The chair directly across from her skidded away from the table and came to a halt roughly three feet away.
Mama? Dario caught Gabriela's eye and nodded, confirming that, yes, her mother was with them.
Meanwhile, Catrina stepped back, crossed her arms over her half-exposed breasts, and frowned at the setting like she knew there was something missing, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "If you like, I can get you something to drink," she said at last.
"Coffee," Gabriela blurted out as she rubbed at her forehead. Ironically, she had just felt the first twinge of pain that preceded a full-blown caffeine withdrawal headache if not treated promptly. "A large mocha latte."
"And I'll have a small black coffee," Dario said when Catrina looked to him like a waitress ready to write down his order. Gabriela opened the lid to the white box to reveal two glazed donuts and two plain cake donuts. She grabbed one of each and tore off a good-sized chunk from each individual donut, then laid them on the inside of the lid.
"Dessert for Matanza," she explained when she sensed that Dario was watching her.
He chuckled and added two more pieces to the dessert pile. "I'm sure he'll enjoy it."
Gabriela glanced up at Catrina, who hadn't moved a muscle except to display an amused smirk. "You know, there's a coffee shop near the Temple..." She trailed off, and not just because she had blanked on the name of the establishment. Gabriela vividly recalled luring PJ to that very spot, and she missed him enough to regret telling him to leave earlier.
Catrina nodded. "Yes, I know. I will be back soon." She wasn't carrying a purse, but Gabriela had a few ideas where Catrina might have stashed money or a credit or debit card. She decided to wear the amulet while Catrina was away and secured it around her neck before starting breakfast.
Dario glanced at Gabriela once they were left alone with Matanza, whose contented noises provided background noise to eat by. "I know it's hard to believe, but Catrina really is trying to be a better, ah, 'person.'"
Gabriela gulped down her first bite of glazed donut and stared at Dario for some time because she was convinced he had lost his mind. "How can you say that after everything she's done to our family?" She couldn't imagine why he was defending Catrina in the first place. The only reason she had shown the Cuetos any kindness at all was so she could manipulate them into being pawns in her game...Right?
He shrugged. "To be fair, Matanza and I have done some bad things to her, too." And Gabriela herself had called the other woman a bitch and threatened to evict her from the Temple..."But, to answer your question, I have seen a different side of Catrina over the past few days." For a moment, he looked uncertain as to whether or not he should confide what he had learned, then decided in favor of transparency. "You see, thanks to the broken immortality amulet in her possession, Catrina is undead-and she wants nothing more than to live a normal human life. To have a family and friends...Things like that. That is why she is so bitter and spiteful."
Gabriela didn't know how to respond. She, too, had often fantasized about having a similar "normal" lifestyle, although she couldn't imagine giving up her powers in exchange. It was difficult to believe that someone like Catrina-someone she thought only had superficial traits in common with her-actually shared her ambitions and sorrows.
Dario leaned in closer and dropped his voice, even though Catrina had not yet returned. "I even get the impression that Catrina is starting to warm up to us. I think your mother has been a positive influence on her-and on me, too, I hope." He glanced over at the chair where he had implied Elena was seated.
"She makes me want to be a better person, too." Gabriela's smile dissolved almost as quickly as it had formed. "But my mom put her trust in the wrong person, and look what happened to her. I won't make that same mistake." She bit into her cake donut, chewed, and swallowed before adding in a tone laced with cynicism, "Catrina will have to do a lot more than bring me breakfast if she wants to be my friend." Gabriela intended to keep her at arm's length until she was convinced she was serious about self-improvement. Although she was eager to make more friends, especially female ones, she also wanted to protect her heart.
Dario licked his lips, which removed the glaze that had accumulated there. "That's fair. So...do you consider PJ Black a friend?"
Her answer was swift and decisive. "Yes, but PJ is different. He's earned my trust." Talking-even just thinking-about him made Gabriela feel flushed and put butterflies in her stomach. She knew that having a friend, especially a male werewolf friend whom she had a crush on, could lead to trouble, but she couldn't help how she felt about him. She prayed her faith in him would be rewarded.
Dario pressed his forefingers together, then did the same with his thumbs, and rotated his fingers while he studied her expression. "It really doesn't bother you that he's a werewolf?" He glanced off to the side with a frown, and Gabriela guessed that her mother had said something to him. She wondered if she approved of her spending time with PJ.
Gabriela shook her head. "No way. I mean, we're both supernatural...PJ doesn't know I'm a witch yet, but I don't think he'll have a problem with it. If I haven't scared him off by now..." Learning she wasn't just an average human being would probably make her even more attractive in his eyes. But she didn't think he could overlook the excruciating amnesia spell she had put on him or forgive her for what she'd done as part of the Order, so she intended to take those secrets to the grave. Gabriela waited for Dario to go all overprotective big brother on her-to lecture her on how the entire Worldwide Underground couldn't be trusted and she should have nothing to do with any of them-but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. "Too bad you're not a brujo. I could teach you all sorts of interesting tricks."
He stopped fidgeting and lurched forward in his wooden chair as if shot out of a canon. "But I am a witch! I overheard our dead grandmother say that Dad took away my magic." Dario lifted his key by grabbing the attached cord and slowly swung the metal piece from side to side before letting the key nestle against his chest. "I'm convinced that my magic is trapped inside this key."
"Cueto magic," Gabriela whispered. It felt like Dario had just thrown a bucket of cold water in her face. His statement unexpectedly reminded her of something their father had said to her during one of their last conversations.
"What?"
"Papa told me your key 'is forged with Cueto magic'-but I thought he meant his magic." Gabriela shook her head in disgust. Was every single word that came out of their father's mouth a lie?
"That proves it, then." Dario's eyes were round with wonder. "You know, by using the key and the power of my mind, I've been able to move things, light and extinguish candles-even heal my own injuries."
Gabriela hadn't expected to hear that. "How long have you been able to do these things?" Their father told her that the witch gene had skipped Dario, but that story contradicted the origin story of the Cueto witches: Antonio spoke often of their returning conquistador ancestor who had been enchanted by a wicked bruja, and every generation since was "born with the gift of magic." Apparently, Dario wasn't an exception to the rule after all...
He shrugged again. "Not long...I never did any magic until after Catrina brought me back."
"Because our father's curse was broken the moment you died. Your magic is still locked inside the key, but at least now you have access to it."
"But how do I get my powers back?"
"I can help you with that."
Before they could continue their discussion, Catrina arrived with two steaming paper cups of coffee in cardboard holders, each wrapped in a layer of napkins. "Is there anything else either of you would like?" she asked once she had handed out the beverages. When the others shook their heads, she settled into the unoccupied chair and watched them eat and drink -although Gabriela reminded herself that Catrina had no reason whatsoever to poison them before taking her first sip. Nobody said a word, but, every now and then, Gabriela glanced up and noticed that Catrina's gaze seemed to linger on Dario's face. She waited until the last donut crumbs had been consumed and the final drops of coffee were drained before she spoke again. "Gabriela, I need your help with something. You, too, Elena." After waiting a beat, she added, "I need you two to provide an alibi for me."
Dario threw the napkin he'd used to wipe his mouth to the floor and leaped to his feet. "An alibi-for Mil Muertes?" When Catrina said yes, he reacted by violently shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. "I forbid it! It's too dangerous-"
"Mil will not mind if I am spending time with other women," Catrina said reasonably, "but he will destroy you if he discovers our living arrangement. And, the more I avoid him, the more suspicious he becomes..."
"Is he even awake at this hour?" Gabriela asked, feeling both touched and annoyed by Dario's insistence on protecting her. Mil Muertes struck her as the night owl type, which was ironic, because she was pretty sure his Aztec ancestry came from the Owl tribe.
"Most likely. He sleeps very little, and, when he does, he is plagued by nightmares of his childhood."
Gabriela could definitely relate to that.
Without warning, Catrina grabbed Dario's hand and teleported him into the center of Matanza's cell, then used her ghostly abilities to exit alone. Dario immediately ran to the bars and gave them a good shake while Gabriela was rooted to the floor in utter disbelief. Matanza appeared beside him with his head cocked and his gaze locked on Catrina.
"Catrina! What are you doing?" Dario demanded. "Let me out of here this instant!"
"No." Her calm refusal earned her a furious glare from him. "Since your sister's magical herbs don't work on ghosts, you will be safer locked in with Matanza until Gabriela and I return."
"She has a point," Gabriela agreed. She felt better knowing that her brothers would be together in her absence. Catrina took her hand, and they were off before a slack-jawed Dario could formulate a response.
Like Catrina, Mil did not call a mausoleum home but instead lived in what appeared to be a modest apartment. From what little Gabriela could make out in the relative darkness, they were standing in a living room lit by a plethora of candles that surrounded an altar and contained macabre touches like a throne made of what appeared to be human skulls.
Mil, who had been kneeling before said altar, lumbered to his feet and turned around. "Catrina...Why did you bring a ghost and a"-Mil paused to squint at Gabriela through blood red irises-"human?" The word "human" was tinged with uncertainty. Perhaps he thought she might be something else, and he would be right.
"A human and a witch," she corrected him.
"They are mother and daughter, and I have been helping them communicate," Catrina said smoothly. "You see, there are forces that have kept the witch from reaching out to the dead. That is why I have not been around much."
"Is this true?" Mil's scarlet gaze flicked to one side before it lingered on Gabriela's face. She nodded and continued to regard him unflinchingly, convinced that Mil Muertes posed no threat to her.
"Yes." She spoke in such an eerily calm tone that Catrina glanced at her. It was the truth-just not the whole truth. Dario would be in grave danger if Mil ever learned that he had moved in with Catrina, and Gabriela would say and do anything to protect what was left of her family.
Without warning, Mil reached over and cupped her chin in one enormous hand-his grip, like Matanza's, was firm without inflicting pain-and studied her facial features. "You remind me of someone..."
Gabriela resisted the urge to slap his hand away. Any second now, Mil would declare that she looked like Dario or had Matanza's eyes-but that didn't necessarily mean her cover was blown. Very few people knew that they had a sister...She held his gaze steadily while Catrina waited in tense silence beside her. After a minute or so, Mil dropped his hand and backed away. Gabriela could only imagine how her mother felt about seeing this frightening specimen of a man take hold of her face.
"Fearless," he said at last. "Like Catrina." Gabriela wasn't quite fearless, but she had nothing to fear from Mil Muertes-and not just because she could pack one hell of a magical punch. Having powers useful to Catrina meant she was under her protection.
"I must be going-I need to take Gabriela home-but I shall return soon." Catrina kissed Mil like she actually had feelings for him, then put her lips close enough to Gabriela's ear to make contact while taking her hand. "I have to pay a visit to Vampiro," she whispered, and her chilly breath sent a shiver through Gabriela. "You should come with me."
Gabriela shrugged. "All right." It would be interesting to meet someone who was also an expert in the dark arts, but she couldn't imagine what business Catrina would have with him.
The middle-aged man who tossed aside the remote control and stood from his black leather sofa to greet them was a far cry from the black-clad, face-painted magic user Gabriela had expected to encounter. Instead, he wore a navy plaid, button-down shirt with short sleeves and blue jeans and a half smile. But Gabriela knew that appearances could be deceiving, and he was still Vampiro regardless of what he wore or what name he went by at the moment.
"I was hoping you'd come back soon. I found something that might be of interest to you..." While he addressed Catrina, Vampiro's gaze was locked on Gabriela. He squinted at her long enough to make her suspect that he had picked up on her uncanny resemblance to Dario. But, like Mil, he failed to comment on her appearance. He just slowly shook his head and took a few steps in their direction. "Who's this?"
Gabriela deferred to Catrina, since she was uncertain how many details could be safely shared with him.
"This is Gabriela. She is related to the ghost I intend to make flesh again."
Vampiro nodded, looking appropriately grim. "Nice to meet you. My name's Ian, but please, call me Vampiro. Sorry for your loss." He did not extend his hand as she had expected. "Your aura's messed up, kid. What you need is a good sage smudging."
"What's wrong with my aura? " Gabriela felt feverish with shame. A sage smudging. It was a ritual that followed her every use of dark magic, yet cleansing herself of negative energy post-possession simply hadn't occurred to her. A novice mistake, but, in all fairness, she'd had a lot of distractions this morning.
"It's a murky red with gray and black spots...And, judging by the look on your face, I'm guessing you know something about auras?" Gabriela held back a smirk as she nodded, but she was alarmed-if not exactly surprised-by his description of her aura. "Then you know that ain't good." He shook his bald head again. "You must be going through hell right now..."
"'Hell' is a good description," she muttered darkly. Vampiro walked over to the window, rolled up the blinds on, and opened, the nearest window, then disappeared down the hall. Gabriela studied the living room while she waited. The walls were decorated with classic punk rock band posters and memorabilia from Vampiro's decades-long career in professional wrestling. Occult paraphernalia and leather-bound books lined wall-mounted shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, and the coffee table was cluttered with black candles and a stack of more books. There was even an upright coffin used as a display case.
Gabriela breathed in the strong aroma of burning sage that wafted into the room before Vampiro even got close to her. As he took his time circling her and she inhaled the potent smoke being waved around, she could feel the negativity melting away. Vampiro finally blew out the sage stick, then resumed squinting at Gabriela for a long moment before a lopsided smile came across his face. His features hinted at years of hard living and interesting stories.
"Much better. Now, about that spell..." He walked off, opened one of the books on the coffee table, and held out a loose piece of paper that had been wedged between the pages. Gabriela immediately took it from him. "I'm gonna be blunt with you two: the components will be a bitch to find, but it looks legit. Catrina, you'll have to do some teleporting to gather what you need."
"That will not be a problem."
Gabriela was astonished to discover that she was holding yet another spell designed to recreate her mother's body. Upon skimming the ingredients and steps, she understood why Vampiro had issued a warning. She was also curious as to the origins of the first spell. Neither Catrina nor Dario had volunteered that information, and, in her excitement, Gabriela hadn't thought to ask.
"Thank you," she said at last, when it became evident that Vampiro was awaiting a response from her. She planned to hang onto this spell as a backup plan and folded the paper into a little square, which she stuffed in her jeans pocket alongside the heart amulet. "For the spell and the cleansing."
"No problem. Oh, and this isn't the kind of spell just anyone can cast. You need a witch, " Vampiro told them. He paused to let that sink in. "Do either of you know any witches?"
Catrina and Gabriela exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Someday, everyone employed at the Temple would know who Gabriela was, but telling Vampiro what she was seemed like a bad idea.
"Yes," they both answered at the exact same time.
"Yeah? That's cool. But, hey, I've got all kinds of contacts in the magical world if you ever need 'em." He ignored Catrina and stared Gabriela directly in the eye as he spoke, and a chill went through her.
"I'll keep that in mind." Although she tried not to sound or appear too eager to take him up on his offer, her heart pounded and her thoughts ran rampant. Did he know other witches? A coven, maybe? But any witches Vampiro consorted with were undoubtedly practitioners of dark magic, and Gabriela was no longer certain that was the path she was meant to take. And, if he found out she was blessed with powers, he might pressure her to become his next apprentice-a position Gabriela had zero interest in after wasting half her life taking orders from another man with a twisted magical agenda. Anyway, she already had a male role model who could serve as a mentor: El Dragon Azteca. All she had to do was raise him from the dead first...
"Just one more thing, kid: people always come back...changed. Damaged. You may not recognize-or even like-the person he or she becomes-"
"I'm aware of the risks." Her tone came out so icy that she sounded more like Catrina than herself. She was also positive that she could do something magical to mitigate those risks.
He shrugged. "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"Let's keep our visit to Vampiro between us," Catrina whispered to Gabriela, who readily agreed. Dario would go berserk if he learned she'd been in contact with someone like him. Catrina then took her hand and they returned to Dario, who was pacing back and forth across the cell with his hands clasped behind his back and an agitated expression that mellowed once he realized they had returned safe and sound. While Catrina freed him, Gabriela snatched the leftover donut scraps from the box and deposited them into Matanza's outstretched palm. He grunted his appreciation.
"Wait...Can we stop by my office before we leave?" After making his request, Dario glanced at Catrina with an expression that Gabriela interpreted as either guilty or apologetic. That was a bit odd, but she brushed it off.
"Of course." Catrina instantly transported them downstairs. Gabriela watched Dario sidestep the countless shards of glass and window blinds littering the floor, climb the few steps leading to his office, and let himself inside. He then began to sort through the chaotic remains of his belongings left behind after Gabriela's magical meltdown, and a sinking feeling came over her.
This would have been my office...My Temple...Well, it was still her Temple by birthright because she was a Cueto, but now she daydreamed about supporting Matanza and PJ Black from ringside and-one day-competing in the ring herself. She also wanted to make a few more friends in Lucha Underground, but the odds of that happening were slim to none. With the exception of her family and PJ, nobody trusted a Cueto, and PJ probably wouldn't have been so open-minded if he wasn't enamored with her outer beauty...
"Is something wrong?" Catrina asked, and Gabriela turned to her in surprise. She had been so lost in her own muddled thoughts that she hadn't realized she was being observed. "You look...depressed."
Gabriela turned away without a word. She couldn't determine from either Catrina's expression or her tone whether she was just making conversation to pass the time or actually expressing concern over her mental state. Probably the former.
Again, Catrina leaned in closer than Gabriela was comfortable with and dropped her voice to a level just above a whisper, but Dario was so engrossed in his treasure hunt that he probably wouldn't have overheard, anyway. "I understand why you don't trust me, Gabriela, but I have nothing against you." A brief pause followed. "I'm hopeful that we can put the past behind us-just as Dario and I have."
Now Gabriela pulled away to stare deep into her dark eyes as she debated how to respond. "I'll try, but no promises," she said at last. If Gabriela had blinked at that very second, she would have missed Catrina's ghost of a smile. Dario's words earlier had opened her mind to the possibility that Catrina was sincere about turning over a new leaf. It was more likely, however, that her kindness was just bait to lure the Cueto family into another trap, so Gabriela insisted on concrete evidence of change before she dared to put her trust in Catrina.
She resumed watching Dario. Through the broken windowpane, she observed him as he scanned the floor in front of the desk, then stooped to pick up one of the many items that littered the surface. When he opened the door, Dario took her hand and dropped something tiny and dark into her palm, then waited on the top step while she studied the object.
"I think you should have this, since you are both a descendant of the Jaguar tribe and a witch."
A lump formed in Gabriela's throat, and she found herself examining the figurine through a film of tears. It was a black jaguar-a black cat. No wonder Dario felt it should belong to her...If Gabriela had noticed the little animal before, she would have pocketed it along with the other goodies she had found at the Temple, but receiving it as a gift from her brother was infinitely more meaningful.
"Gracias," she murmured, and tucked the treasure into her purse for safekeeping. "You don't know how much this means to me."
Dario wore a broad grin as he descended the steps. "Your smile says it all."
Once the group returned to Catrina's apartment, Gabriela slipped on her amulet and announced that she was going to brush her teeth and take a nap. Caffeine had done little to combat the exhaustion brought on by a sleepless night and the violent fight in her possessed state.
Elena felt remorseful as she stood in the living room while her daughter swiped a plastic cup off of the kitchen table and marched into the bathroom. She blamed herself for not following her into the bedroom earlier and waiting to make sure she put the amulet back on before joining the others. If she had done so, she would have spotted the other ghost and done something to keep her from possessing Gabi-scream, fetch Catrina, even engage in a physical confrontation if need be.
She was haunted by other regrets, too, over things she wished she'd had the nerve to do in the past. Their lives might have turned out very differently if only she had taken Gabi and left Antonio right after he first showed his true colors..She also felt guilty about not finding a way to be involved in the lives of her stepsons regardless of Antonio's feelings on the subject. And she really should have been honest with both El Dragon Azteca and herself regarding her feelings toward him-
"Elena?" Dario's Spanish accent was a welcome intrusion on her spiraling thoughts, and she forced a smile before turning around to look at him. He and Catrina were watching her from the sofa. "Is there something on your mind?"
"I'm just relieved that you and your sister are both okay-thanks to Catrina." Catrina might not consider herself a friend of theirs, but she had come through for them when they needed her help the most, and Elena would be forever grateful for that. Seeing her seated so close to Dario, it was hard to believe there had ever been any animosity between them. Elena considered asking Dario about their history the next time she had a chance to speak with him alone, but, since he and Catrina had apparently called a truce, she didn't want to open old wounds.
"But are you okay?" Dario asked, and the concern in and on his features absolved Elena of the tremendous guilt she was carrying around. She couldn't go back in time and rewrite the past, but she could be there to support her family and friends now and in the future. And maybe she could make a difference in someone else's life, too-even if that someone didn't appreciate her advice...
"Yes, but there's somewhere else I need to be. I want to see if Mariposa is awake and try to talk some sense into her." Elena's new plan was inspired by something Catrina had taught her when they first met and would-hopefully-be more effective than leaving warnings in lipstick and throwing Mariposa's belongings across the room. Being a ghost meant making her voice heard was a challenge at times, but Elena had learned it wasn't impossible to send messages from beyond the grave.
"Mariposa definitely needs help, but I'm not sure you can give her the kind of help she needs," Dario said dryly, and Catrina let out a low laugh. He looked at Elena with respect in his eyes and a resigned smile. "Still, I know it will ease your conscience to try, so you have my support. Just be careful: Mariposa Martinez and her brother, Marty, are depraved and violent individuals-"
"Even more so than the Cuetos," Catrina interrupted.
Dario rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "Thank you, Catrina, for that backhanded compliment."
She gave him her best imitation of an innocent smile. "You're welcome."
"I'm already dead. There's nothing they can do to hurt me." Except for targeting her children, although Elena didn't think Mariposa would risk alienating Antonio by doing so. "But I appreciate your concern."
Dario bit his lip, and his black-brown eyes suddenly appeared glossy. "I can't help but worry about you, Elena-even if you are a ghost. As far as I'm concerned, you are the only mother Matanza and I have ever had." He glanced past her, in the direction of the bedroom door, and Elena knew he was wondering whether her biological child had overheard his confession. She, too, worried that Gabi would become jealous of the bond forming between the brothers she barely knew and the mother she'd lost at an early age. "You're also the glue holding this dysfunctional family together."
His words warmed Elena's heart and broke it at the same time. Catrina, meanwhile, continued to fidget with her rings and admire her wine-colored nails, just as she had done throughout Dario's speech. Elena thought she was trying to distract herself from the topic of mothers and stepmothers. Did she secretly long for a close relationship with the mother she was estranged from? Or maybe the two had a close bond once upon a time and Catrina was feeling sentimental over how things used to be between them...
Dario cleared his throat just before changing the subject. "So...What are your plans for the Mariposa?"
"I'm going to show her exactly what Antonio is capable of." Dario just spread his hands in confusion, but, when Catrina raised her head, the look on her face told Elena that she understood exactly what she meant.
"Do you remember when Elena showed you your sister by touching your face and transferring her memories?" Catrina asked Dario, who nodded. "That is what she has in mind." Elena nodded, too. Only someone with at least one foot in the spirit realm would know her intentions without further details.
"It's a good plan," Dario said, although his doubtful expression contradicted his diplomatic statement. "Unfortunately, there's a good chance Mariposa won't heed your warning."
Elena sighed. "I know, but at least I can try...If I don't speak up, my death will have been for nothing. That's why I refuse to hide my...injuries." The bloodied fingertips of her right hand grazed her bruised cheek, then traveled south to hover briefly just over the deep gash of her cut throat. "I want everyone to know what he did to me." Everyone who could see her, at least, and everyone bold enough to ask who was responsible. "And I want Mariposa to know that she could be his next victim." What she did with that information was up to her, but surely learning the truth would make her reconsider staying in a relationship with a man so sadistic.
Elena's parents and grandparents had told her countless tales about the seven Aztec tribes, and both of her visits to Mariposa's home confirmed that her relatives weren't exaggerating about the Moth tribe's riches. In that department, the Martinez family rivaled the Cuetos. She shivered as she remembered Dario and Catrina's comments about them-specifically, Catrina saying they were even more "depraved" than the family Elena had married into. Elena wasn't sure she wanted to hear the whole story because she knew she would be profoundly disturbed by whatever she learned.
But, to put things in perspective, confronting Mariposa wasn't nearly as awful as some of the things that had happened to her children and her. It was just...uncomfortable.
A number of dead butterflies and moths trapped behind glass-along with insect-themed artwork framed in gold-added visual interest to the brick walls of the living room Elena found herself in. She turned away from the grotesque art collection and caught a glimpse of Mariposa sauntering into the attached dining room, where two men and another woman were already waiting at the table. She was dressed in the "sexy equestrian" outfit Elena had seen her wearing the other day and twirled her pigtails as she walked.
Elena followed, walking as if she, too, was still human instead of a ghost capable of teleporting, and stopped within a few feet of the dining room table. Mariposa took a seat across from the man Elena recognized as her brother, Marty, and his brunette female friend. The table housed an eye-popping breakfast buffet with both traditional Mexican and American cuisine represented: huevos a la Mexicana-style scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, an assortment of sweet breads, two sticks of butter, fruit salad, seasoned diced potatoes, a pot of coffee, a pitcher of pineapple juice, and salt and pepper shakers...There was far more food than four people could possibly eat in one morning.
She tried to remember what her last meal had been and couldn't, although she clearly recalled she was a nervous wreck that day and didn't have much of an appetite.
"Your hair is already starting to grow back, Martin." The older, stocky man with gray-streaked brown hair who had made this observation was sitting at the far end of the table, as patriarchs were inclined to do. He bit into a concha and went back to leafing through the Spanish language edition of a newspaper.
"You think?" Martin asked with an anxious expression as he patted the odd mixture of sparse fuzz and uneven, longer locks that covered his scalp. It was such an eyesore that Elena thought he should have shaved his head and started over. Was this his first attempt at a home haircut gone awry?
The other man swallowed before nodding. "I can see a difference." Upon closer inspection, he was reading a Mexican newspaper, not a local one. "It looks like the old warlock isn't completely useless after all."
That was definitely a reference to Antonio. The way this man acted and spoke reminded Elena very much of Antonio, which was ironic, given the venom in his tone when he mentioned him. Elena thought it was unfortunate for Mariposa that she didn't share his hatred of "the old warlock."
"I met his daughter while I was picking up Martin's hair growth potion." Mariposa's announcement was met with a scowl from the older man, whom Elena assumed was their father-a relationship confirmed by what she said next. "Father...Didn't you say her mother is missing?"
He finished the roll and glanced up from his newspaper with a hard glint in his eye. "Yes. She vanished without a trace many years ago...Personally, I think the gold digging whore was sacrificed by her cabron husband. As you know, he already sacrificed at least one member of the Cueto family."
Matanza. Elena dug her fingernails into the palms of her curled fists. She was tempted to reveal the truth to him, too, so that he would realize Antonio was the only villain in this story.
"I heard she was descended from the Jaguar tribe," he continued. "She dishonored her ancestors when she married that conquistador-brujo and had his abomination of a child."
There were overheard lights above the dining room table, and lamps scattered throughout the dining and living rooms, all of which had been turned on-and every single bulb went out for a long moment before springing back to life. Elena knew her mounting anger was behind the erratic electricity, yet she was too upset to try to rein in her emotions. Being insulted over her own decisions was bad enough, but to verbally attack an innocent child all because of a grudge against her father...Only someone without a conscience would sink so low. No wonder his own children had issues!
"And what happened to his first wife?" Mariposa asked as she idly pushed food around her plate with her fork.
Her father took his time chewing, and swallowing, a large bite of bacon before he answered her question. "She was murdered back in Spain-bludgeoned to death." He seemed to relish describing the numerous tragedies that had befallen the Cuetos over the years. "The bastard was already living in Mexico City at the time, but I wouldn't put it past him to hire a hitman."
"Interesting..."
He paused with a fork full of eggs halfway to his lips while the brunette woman popped a strawberry into her mouth in a suggestive manner. "I also heard Dario Cueto got shot. I hope there's some truth to that rumor."
Elena slowly shook her head as she glared at him. He really is just as cold and cruel as Antonio...
"Why are you asking all these questions about the Cuetos, anyway?" Martin, or Marty, asked. His eyes had narrowed to reflect the suspicion dripping from his voice.
Mariposa shrugged and played with one of her pigtails. "Just curious." She shook her head and made a little noise to indicate disapproval when the brunette left her chair, slithered onto Martin's lap, and the two kissed. "Remember, Martin: 'family first.' And breakfast is family time-not 'make out with Reklusa' time."
He rolled his eyes at being admonished, then ran his fingers through Reklusa's long, straight strands and kissed her a second time before she returned to her own chair. Reklusa shot a dirty look at Mariposa just before she flopped down on the furniture.
Martin smirked at Mariposa. "Sounds like somebody's jealous."
"I am not jealous," she snapped as she glowered at him and Reklusa laughed at her indignant response. Elena thought she had detected a trace of jealousy in Mariposa's voice, too.
"As far as I'm concerned, dear sister, Reklusa already is family. Even Father likes her. Isn't that right, Father?" Reklusa let out a delighted cackle, and the prolonged, lustful look she and Marty exchanged, along with their equally unhinged grins, made Elena's skin crawl. If not for the obligation she felt to protect Mariposa from Antonio, she might have bolted right then and there. The room was filled with predators, and Elena suddenly felt trapped even though she was anything but.
I wish I was half as brave as Gabi is! she thought in despair. But the one good thing about being a ghost was that Elena now felt invulnerable, and so, with nothing to fear from these people, she stayed put-even though her instincts were screaming at her to retreat.
"I'd rather have her in this family than that good-for-nothing ring announcer you've been obsessing over."
Marty glowered at his plate but said nothing to defend either the ring announcer or himself.
"Don't you have to go catch flies for your own breakfast, spider woman?" Mariposa snapped at Reklusa, whose only response was to giggle. "Whatever. I've lost my appetite." Mariposa put her fork down next to a plate of barely-touched food, then scraped the chair against the floor as she scooted away from the table and jumped to her feet.
"Where are you going?" her father asked without looking up from his newspaper.
"Out. I've lost my appetite and I need some fresh air." She glared pointedly at Marty and Reklusa-which inspired Reklusa to stick her tongue out at her-then yanked open the backdoor and stormed onto the patio.
Elena took this as her cue. She was glad for the opportunity to get away from the others and deal with Mariposa one on one, and she waited for her to make herself comfortable on an Adirondack chair with a red, butterfly motif cushion before putting her plan into action. Elena summoned every ounce of courage she had, leaned over, laid her fingertips over Mariposa's temples, then closed her eyes and brought forth her memories.
She vividly recalled some of the many times Antonio had shouted at, slapped, and hit her; being choked until she lost consciousness; edited glimpses of Antonio's perverse need to dominate her in the bedroom; false accusations of infidelity; their final argument over their daughter's future; the flash of silver as he yanked a butcher knife from the knife block and dragged the blade across her throat. The last thing she did for Mariposa's benefit was briefly conjure a post-death mental image of watching her remains being set ablaze by Antonio's henchmen.
By the time she had revealed as much as she could bear to remember, Elena was shaking and had tears streaming down her face. She stumbled backward and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Reliving her worst memories had taken a greater emotional toll on her than she anticipated.
Mariposa sat stunned for a long moment, then shook her head and gracefully got to her feet. "So you're the ghost who's been haunting me! Elena." Elena disliked the way Mariposa said her name-like she wasn't worthy of marrying someone of Antonio's status and wealth. It was the same disparaging manner in which her father had referred to "the ring announcer." To her astonishment, Mariposa threw back her head and laughed. "Well, Elena, don't worry about me, because I'm not going to end up like you. If you're telling the truth-and I doubt it-then you were stupid and selfish, and you got exactly what you deserved." Elena flinched. Until now, only Antonio would have spoken to her like that. "And, if you knew me, you'd realize that I'm the perfect woman for An-for him...Unlike you." An utterly callous smirk appeared below her mask as she added, "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if someday your daughter and stepsons forget all about you and start calling me 'Mama'..."
Elena gasped and hastily backed away. That was the ultimate slap in the face! It was then that she knew Mariposa was beyond any help she could offer, and she would have to learn her lesson the hard way. Yet she still had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she watched Mariposa flounce back into the Martinez family's mansion. How could anyone simply overlook the evil that Antonio was capable of? Unless Mariposa herself was just as vicious in her own way...
El Dragon Azteca arrived while she was standing frozen on the porch, dumbstruck. "Dario said I would find you here. Is everything all right?"
Normally, a visit from him would have instantly lightened Elena's mood, but she was still reeling from Mariposa's refusal to heed her warning. "No," she mumbled, too ashamed to look him in the eye. Her head hung low, like her neck was broken. "I failed, Dragon. I thought I could get through to Mariposa-Antonio's new...woman"-Elena honestly wasn't sure how else to describe her connection to him-"and I found a way to show her what he did to me, but she wouldn't listen. She just laughed and blamed me for the abuse and my murder!" She shook her head at the audacity, and her eyes still stung from crying as Dragon Azteca slipped an arm around her shoulder. Mariposa's actual words had been so cruel that to repeat them would only make Elena feel worse. She finally raised her head to meet his gaze, and the empathy she found there made her feel a little better. "I know Mariposa isn't a good person, but what kind of person am I if I let Antonio hurt anyone else?" Maybe she was giving up too easily. "There has to be something else I can do-"
"Listen to me, Elena: you did not fail. It took courage to share your story with Mariposa, and you are not to blame if anything happens to her. I'm proud of you for trying to save her." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, then immediately stepped back. It was hard to read his masked face, but some kind of strong emotion flared in his brown eyes. Was it regret? Embarrassment? Or was she just reading too much into an innocent gesture because she wanted him to return her feelings? Once Elena got over her surprise at being kissed, she could feel nothing but joy. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
She laid her right hand on the side of his face and grinned up at him. "I'm glad you did." Elena let her hand linger there for a long moment before dropping it. While she was glad that he saw his old friend whenever he looked at her and not just the ghost of a murder victim, she wondered if he would ever see in her a woman whom he could love. Because she had fallen for him a long time ago...Elena reluctantly pushed her hopes aside. She had no idea how deep El Dragon Azteca's feelings ran, and she was reluctant to do anything that might drive a wedge between them. And, even if he was in love with her, she had three grown children who might not accept a new father figure. Also, with neutralizing Antonio and his cult members everyone's number one priority, it simply wasn't a good time to talk about her feelings with Dragon Azteca and her children, so she kept her thoughts to herself for now.
"You might not have to worry about her much longer," El Dragon Azteca said suddenly, with a jerk of his head towards the backdoor to indicate Mariposa, which puzzled Elena. "Now that Gabriela and Dario have left the Order, they will be forced to kill their father before he kills them. Antonio will never forgive any kind of betrayal."
His words made Elena feel like a cold, fierce wind had blown right through her. She knew that better than anyone. "I know...I hate that someone has to die, but better him than my children." The world they belonged to was infinitely more cutthroat and dangerous than the one she had grown up in, and Elena-no longer a naive young woman who tried to see the good in everyone-understood that difficult choices must be made in order to live in such a world. No one should ever be forced to choose between their own survival and taking the life of a parent, yet even a man like Dragon Azteca, a man who fought for honor alone, could see no other alternative. Elena worried about the long-term trauma that Dario, and especially Gabi, might experience afterward, and she feared retaliation by Antonio's immortal soul until she remembered where his first wife had ended up. If anyone belonged in such a ghastly place for eternity, it was Antonio, and she was sure that PJ Black's harbinger friend would agree to transport his soul there if doing so protected PJ. "Antonio is a monster-and a witch-and none of us will ever have a moment of peace as long as he lives."
"He will lose his magic once he becomes a fantasma, and then it will be easier to protect ourselves against him," Dragon Azteca assured her, as if he had followed her train of thought. Perhaps he had.
Elena shuddered as she recalled the sheer malice in Gabi's eyes and in her glare when she was possessed. She now firmly believed a vindictive spirit could inflict every bit as much damage as a witch, but she was comforted by the knowledge that there were supernatural ways to prevent the dead from harming the living.
He took her hands in his and squeezed them. Being able to feel his touch was somehow soothing. "Everything is going to be all right, Elena. I promise."
She took a deep breath and nodded. It wasn't like El Dragon Azteca to make promises that he couldn't keep.
The ghost of Lawrence Delgado was pleasantly surprised when he took an unexpected vacation from the relentless misery of the Other Side.
Since he usually chose to present himself as he had looked prior to Cage fatally slamming a gauntlet-clad fist through his skull, both eyes were intact and able to assess his new surroundings. He looked around and discovered that he was standing on the wooden floor of a small, musty room lit by candlelight and crammed full of everything a witch could ever need: more candles and crystals in assorted colors, incense, athames, shelf after shelf of spell books, a cauldron, an abundant selection of bottled herbs-along with an actual witch.
"Antonio Cueto. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Lawrence's attempt to come closer to him was thwarted two steps later by a barrier he could not cross. He glanced down to discover that a mixture of what appeared to be dirt and ashes formed a circle around his shoes.
"I have an assignment for you." Antonio paused, and Lawrence thought that he looked terrible even by his shabby standards. His skin was sallow; his breathing, labored. Only the cane clutched in his right hand seemed to be keeping his scrawny body upright. The man didn't look strong enough to withstand a light wind, but Lawrence knew better than to underestimate a witch. "Make that two assignments." Antonio squinted at him with his right eye-the one not clouded over by a cataract-and his aged features displayed mild surprise. "I wasn't expecting your head to be intact."
He shrugged. "Yes, well, I've learned to manipulate my appearance." Unlike some spirits, who were either too ignorant or too mired in negativity to master any ghost skills beyond basic teleportation...Something occurred to Lawrence then that made him glance about the room with a confused frown. "I thought you said your property was protected from the dead."
"It is, but I lifted the wards temporarily in order to summon you."
Lawrence puffed up his chest with pride at the thought that Antonio had chosen him specifically for his mission. "I see. So, what kind of assignments do you have in mind?"
"The kind only a ghost can complete. Gabriela and Dario are both missing and I have been unable to locate them with magic. The one thing I know for certain is that Dario is with Catrina. Only the gods know why."
Hearing that Gabriela had disappeared came as a shock-between her magical prowess and excessive devotion to Antonio, she was an unlikely candidate to go missing-but Antonio's revelation about Dario and Catrina was old news to Lawrence.
"I need you to find out exactly where they are and what happened to them and report back to me," Antonio added.
"I'm sure there's a spell..." Lawrence began respectfully, only to shut his mouth when Antonio shook his head.
"Believe me, I've tried everything I can think of, but someone is blocking my magic." One look at Antonio's vexed expression told Lawrence what a blow to his Cueto pride that was. "However, a ghost can go places where even a witch with my knowledge and experience can't go. And you've never given me a reason to doubt your loyalty before, so..."
Lawrence immediately saw an opportunity to be seized. He had not had enough time on Earth to achieve all of his goals, but he could buy himself more time if he played his cards right. He bent his spectral form slightly in a bow. "It's always an honor to serve you, Señor Cueto."
"Just go!" Antonio barked at him, and Lawrence readily complied.
He enjoyed visualizing the tantalizing-and, so far, frustratingly unattainable-beauty that was Gabriela. Doing so took him straight to a bedroom. It wasn't her bedroom, though. He was confident of that because he had spied on Gabriela in her own home often enough to literally memorize the layout. Interestingly, she was neither handcuffed nor tied up, but instead appeared to be sleeping peacefully. She was curled up in her left side with her corresponding hand tucked under the pillow, but, upon closer inspection, the skin over her exposed right wrist was puffy and discolored. Perhaps she had been bound or manhandled at some point and was currently drugged or otherwise rendered unconscious, although there was no bruising on her face to indicate blunt force trauma.
For a split second, Lawrence feared that she might be dead and her disembodied soul was about to confront him, but then she rolled over. He let out a sigh that was half relief and half wistful as he reached down to brush the hair out of her face, only to be rebuffed by the protective magic emanating from her jewelry. Even bruised and without a stitch of makeup, Gabriela was stunning. He understood that marriage to, or even just a public relationship, with her would be impossible-she needed to remain in the shadows and he had been a prominent politician in life-but he would have been content with them being secret lovers. Since Lawrence considered himself an exceptionally handsome and debonair man, he attributed Gabriela's lack of interest in him to the age gap. It was a shame that younger generations could be so judgmental towards their elders...
Yes, she had been a real bitch to him during their last visit, leaving him on the floor in excruciating pain from a hex and cursing him out in both English and Spanish at top volume, but that still wasn't enough incentive to make Lawrence back off. In his eyes, Gabriela was the perfect woman, and he would stop at nothing to have her.
Lawrence moved to the foot of the bed. "We could have been a real power couple, you and I," he murmured. A metaphorical light bulb clicked on over his head a second later and brought a smile to his face. "Hell, maybe it's not too late. We both know the dead don't always stay dead."
As much as he would prefer to continue standing around and admiring the view, his task was not yet completed. Lawrence crossed the room to test the doorknob and jumped slightly when the door opened easily, having expected it to be locked. If Gabriela wasn't knocked out, then she was here-wherever 'here' was-of her own free will. Lawrence eased into the hallway, which allowed him to make an interesting discovery: four individuals-two dead, one living, and one somewhere in between those states-appeared to be having a meeting in the living room using hushed voices.
Well, well. Isn't this a cozy little gathering. His lip curled with disgust as he focused on the ghost he mockingly thought of as "Saint Elena," who was seated on the sofa next to a male spirit. Lawrence was sure that Antonio had only married her because she was blessed with Aztec blood and delicate good looks, and he assumed their marriage had been a tumultuous one that Antonio ended by slitting Elena's throat-not that he would have blamed him, of course. He would have done the same if he was stuck with such a dull bride.
Seeing the dead man in a green mask and hoodie jogged his memory. He recalled how a young man wearing that exact mask-or a damned good replica-and a similar green hooded sweatshirt once stormed into Dario's office and interrupted his and Lawrence's Order-related discussion over drinks. Dario had introduced him as El Dragon Azteca, Jr., and Lawrence had a hunch that he was staring at the ghost of the original. Although he didn't have all the facts, he knew that the first El Dragon Azteca was a legendary luchador from Mexico, as well as someone Antonio had bad blood with.
Dario and Catrina were there, too. The two had been mortal enemies in the not-so-distant past, but, amazingly, they seemed to be on good terms these days. Catrina was perched on Dario's armchair and had a hand draped around his neck in what could be interpreted as an affectionate manner-enough to raise Lawrence's eyebrows-and Dario didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with her close proximity. Lawrence didn't blame him for savoring a taste of her dark sensuality, and he also had the impression that Catrina was responsible for Dario's escape from the Other Side. If that was so, he owed her more than a little gratitude...
As he inched down the hallway towards the living room, Lawrence wondered if Antonio's heart was strong enough to withstand all the shocking news he was about to receive. Lawrence's plan of eavesdropping on the group's quiet discussion failed before he even reached the end of the hall, however, for Catrina just happened to look up and catch sight of him. She nudged Dario with her elbow and said something that sounded like, "We have company" as she pointed at Lawrence.
Damn.
"Lawrence Delgado?" Dario mouthed after jumping to his feet. For a tense second, nobody moved a muscle, and then Elena was standing directly in front of Lawrence.
"Get the hell out of here, you pervert!" she screamed at him. Lawrence was as startled by the normally timid ghost's outburst as he was amused by it, and, therefore, he failed to react until after she had slapped him hard across the face. He chuckled as he lifted a hand to his stinging cheek. Elena always did have a bad habit of meddling in affairs that didn't concern her, but he hadn't expected her to get physical-nor had he expected to literally feel her wrath.
"And here I thought Gabriela was the only wild cat in the family." Lawrence's smartass remark earned him a second slap. Watching the hatred and repulsion spread across Elena's features brought back memories of the look Gabriela had given him after he touched her leg. Like mother, like daughter...
"You're disgusting...If you ever touch my daughter again, I'll-"
"Elena!" The original El Dragon Azteca took her by the arm and pulled her away before she could either finish her threat or strike him again, but her eyes flashed a warning at Lawrence, who reconsidered his initial assessment of her as a defenseless kitten. She was a Jaguar warrior, all right.
"Antonio sends his regards, by the way." Lawrence probably should have been more discrete, but the temptation to taunt them had proven irresistible. Too late, he recalled that it was his thoughtless nature that had cost him both his head and his life. This time, however, he was a hair quicker and dissolved into nothing the instant Catrina's manicured fingertips brushed against his white shirtsleeve.
Lawrence teleported to just outside of Catrina's front door and quickly made mental notes of the pertinent information: apartment number, complex name, approximate location. He shook his head and thought to himself that only dire circumstances could have driven people with Gabriela and Dario's class and taste, not to mention wealth, to stay in such a dump.
Antonio stopped his impatient clumping around the room the second Lawrence reappeared in the circle he had created of ashes and dirt. "Well? What did you find out?"
"Some things that will be of great interest to you," Lawrence replied with his most charming-and calculated-smile. The future he had been dreaming of ever since he first laid eyes on Gabriela was finally within reach. She, the Order, the gods, and, yes, the goddesses, too, would soon be under his control. With a little help from Antonio, he would go from being a ghost to the most powerful man in the world. "And, in exchange for a small favor, I will be glad to tell you what I've discovered..."