Blue Diablo cs-1 Page 29

  I wanted what I’d always wanted—a normal life, my pawnshop, the freedom to drink too much tequila and dance like there was no tomorrow. Maybe I’d never possess the peace most people took for granted. That sounded like self-pity, so I quashed the thought in time to hear Chance ask:

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “No permanent harm,” Min assured him, but she would tell us nothing more until we were safe behind Chuch’s wards.

  Strange, after what we’d done, to have them wave us through at the U.S. border. Something like that should write its story on a person’s face, but Jesse had a good, trustworthy mug, it seemed. He’d cleaned up with some bottled water, and they didn’t look at the rest of us.

  When we got to Chuch’s place, Eva took him to their bedroom and bustled around gathering medical supplies while Jesse, Chance, and I sat in the living room with Min. Butch looked quite relieved to find me home. Well, he wasn’t the only one. I checked his food, refilled his water dish, and let him out to do his business. Nothing like a dog to ground you.

  I felt quite impatient by the time we all reconvened in the living room, where Min had insisted we wait. Even dirty and worn, she radiated the command of a small, implacable queen. Disbelief and love warred within me; I couldn’t believe we’d saved her. I acknowledged then, as I hadn’t before, that I hadn’t thought I’d see her alive again.

  “You have all earned my trust with your courage and your ingenuity,” she said at last, “and so you have earned my secrets.”

  “It’s about time.” Chance smiled to show he was joking. Mostly.

  Being uninjured, I took a seat on the floor and listened.

  “Long ago, a lifetime ago, I practiced the art in Seoul. I made potions and charms, removed curses. To some I am a witch, a sorceress, a healer, a shaman.” She lifted her shoulders to show that the name made no difference to her. “But I did too well, and I gained renown. A local crime boss noticed me and wanted me to work only for him, only against his enemies and on his orders. He took me, kept me against my will.” Her nose wrinkled, as though the memory held an unpleasant smell, even now. “I did not like living as a slave.”

  “What happened then?” I prompted, hardly aware I’d done so.

  Min flashed me a smile, one warm enough to melt the ice caps. “He was part of an operation that smuggled girls to other countries. Mexico. I managed to hide myself with them, and that was how I ended up in Nuevo Laredo, where I slipped away from the guards one night. But I had no money, and I could not hope to survive without a nest egg, so I begged work from Dr. Rivera.”

  All the pieces started to click. Chuch and Eva did not speak, nor did Saldana. I expect they thought this tale belonged primarily to Chance and me.

  My ex ran a gentle hand over his mother’s hair and murmured, “Yes, I know.”

  She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “At first I simply lay low and brewed potions and tinctures in the back room of his clinic. I rented a room above one of the brothels and thought only of hiding. But slowly I came to care about the girls for whom I made the medicines.” Min exhaled shakily, staring at her hands.

  “Of course you did.” I knew better than anyone what a loving heart she had.

  “When one of them came to me, weeping, I did what she asked. She said her lover had got her with child, but once she had the baby, her patron would steal her son and leave her to starve. She’d claimed a bruja had seen it in some bones. I did as she asked.”

  Eva spoke for the first time, murmuring, “You made a potion to abort the child.”

  “I did.” Min lifted her chin. “She had no money for a doctor. It was her choice.”

  “Montoya’s son,” I guessed aloud. It was the only thing that made sense.

  “Yes. He has been seeking me all these years.” Her shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “If I had known the extent of his tenacity, I would never have returned to Texas. I thought he would’ve given up long before now. It has been so many years.”

  “There’s got to be more to it,” Saldana said.

  “He murdered the prostitute who refused to bear his child,” Min replied. “But as she lay dying, she told him she had hired a bruja to hex him—he would never sire a living heir, and the empire he had carved from his countrymen’s bones would crumble to dust. He is an old man now, and still he has no sons.”

  “He thought you worked the curse.” Chance’s tone left no room for doubt. “That’s why he wouldn’t kill you until you removed it.”

  “It wasn’t me,” she said, spreading her hands. “There is no curse, unless you count the magick of a dying woman’s promise. But he believes. The power of the mind is a strange and wondrous thing.”

  “What were you doing in the warehouse?” I asked, diffident.

  “Before I agreed to ‘remove the hex,’ I forced them to take part in a ritual that prevented them from striking at Chance, my only son. I thought it wise since they would eventually discover I have no power to impact Montoya’s inability to sire children, and Diego can kill me only once.” Her dark gaze hardened. “No matter. The spell is binding. Hell itself will come for them, should they renege.”

  Eva smiled at Min. “Then you stalled. You needed rare ingredients, or the moon wasn’t right, or Montoya must have a cleansing fast and a purifying bath of goat’s milk—”

  “You are a smart woman,” Min said in an approving tone. “But the time came when it worked no longer. I was faking it when you finally arrived.” She managed another smile for Chance. “You had me worried.”

  A witch was only as good as her ingredients, after all. And they wouldn’t have permitted her anything they didn’t control.

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured, low. “We got there as fast as we could.”

  Min hugged him. “I know. I’m glad you went to get Corine. You had brooded long enough.”

  There wasn’t a lot to say to that, and I was exhausted. My jaw practically unhinged on a yawn. That seemed to be the cue everyone had been waiting for.

  Jesse asked me to walk him to the door, where he kissed me. Not a lover’s kiss, but not an innocent one either. I touched a fingertip to my lips and watched his taillights trail away into the glimmering, predawn air.

  As though she’d spoken enough, Min quietly claimed the bed Chance had slept in, which left the two of us on the couch. We sat, too sore to move. His wound needed cleaning, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not when he’d forgotten mine the day before.

  I remembered I needed to call Booke. It would be early afternoon there. I dialed.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Corine? What happened?”

  “We saved her,” I whispered, delighted to be able to say it. “We weren’t too late. And we’re all more or less in one piece.”

  “Thank God.” What a lovely, plummy voice he had. “And thank you for calling me. I’ve been entirely on pins and needles since you rang off.”

  I felt like I was going to pass out, so I hung up shortly thereafter. There would be consequences from tonight’s work—and Montoya’s retribution—but I was too tired to worry about them right now. I put my head back and closed my eyes.

  “You kept your promise,” Chance said softly. “Now it’s time for me to keep mine. And I will, whatever the cost. But I need to know, Corine. Will you come back to me?”

  My gut response was Hell no, but my heart said, Oh yes. Aloud I said nothing at all.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, I’ll thank everyone who contributed to this book: my husband, Andres, who read the first draft; my agent, Laura Bradford, who didn’t think she’d like it (then she did); and of course, the wonderful Ivette, who gently corrected my Spanish. I also can’t forget the talented staff at Roc. Once again, Anne Sowards has turned my coal into a diamond.

  Next, I should mention the people of Mexico, who charmed and informed me. I did my best to capture the magic of living as an expatriate in Mexico City. Many of Corine’s observations come filtered thr
ough my eyes. There’s a rich tapestry of belief in the supernatural running in an odd lockstep alongside Catholicism, and people are generally more accepting of the mystical and/or inexplicable there. There is a whole town of witches and warlocks in Catemaco. In fact, there’s a precendent for the cartels hiring brujos to work hexes as they would hit men to kill. I tried to be true to the many stories I heard from friends and relatives. Any mistakes or liberties are my own.

  Finally, I must thank my readers. I’d be nothing without all of you. I welcome your letters and appreciate your support more than I can say. I hope you enjoy the world I’ve created.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  In her life, Ann Aguirre has been a clown, a clerk, a voice actress, and a savior of stray kittens, not necessarily in that order. She grew up in a yellow house across from a cornfield, but now lives in sunny Mexico with her husband and two adorable children, who sometimes do as they are told. You can visit her on the Web at www.annaguirre.com.

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