Bruja (17 page)

“She managed to do it? Was it successful?”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Yes. It was. And it was horrible.”

He grinned for a second, and then a serious mask came over his face.

But that smile stuck with me. Chills broke over my skin.

He cleared his throat, as if nothing had happened. “That seems really far-fetched. I can’t believe she could do that. I’ve never heard of a witch being able to.”

I was quiet for a second, studying him. I didn’t need my intuition to tell me not to trust him when all the signs he was giving off were screaming it. “You don’t have to believe me, but Luciana is raising demons she can’t control. She’ll destroy us all and then anyone who survives will be running from the humans. All it’ll take is one photo leaking in the news and we’ll have another rash of witch-hunts. Guaranteed.” I took a breath. “It’d be good if you were willing to work with us and the pack.”

“I think you’re getting your wires crossed. Stripping witches? Conjuring demons? Black magic? It seems a little crazy…”

He yammered on, but I tuned him out. This was useless.

Good thing I didn’t need him to do anything but get me on the
brujos’
land. Which he was doing. Once I was there, I’d get the magic I needed and leave.

I closed my eyes. It had been stupid to think that he’d want to be allies. Most witches hated the wolves. But those prejudices wouldn’t get us anywhere. Just in the short time I’d been at St. Ailbe’s I’d understood the truth. While we hid from the world behind our barriers, learning cleansing rituals and brewing potions, the wolves started training to fight from childhood. Their hunters had been clearing the world of evil for years, giving us the freedom to thrive.

If it got back to Luciana that I was trying to make allies, then so be it. She’d lost her leverage over me and I wasn’t letting her or anyone else push me around anymore.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. I hadn’t meant to get so riled up. I had to think clearly. Calmly.

Picture what you want and believe it will be so.

I was going to find a cure for my brother. I wasn’t leaving this evil sect’s lands until I had what I was looking for.

Chapter Fifteen

It felt like ages before we stopped, but it only took an hour. The closer we got, the more I had the urge to turn around. My gut was sending me all kinds of warning signals. The black aura ahead of us that grew bigger with every passing second only made that feeling worse.

Had I really seen that bright white aura in all this darkness?

The sect’s compound was small, with only one tiny, dead-end dirt road that ran between a cluster of old stone buildings. The only thing that identified it was the sign on the side of the road. It was a tiny rectangle, almost completely covered by moss and dirt, but I could just make out the name. Not that it helped me identify the place. The word was long and unpronounceable, with way too many consonants.

From what I could see, there were four bigger structures, although the word “big” was a bit much for what was there. They were small, one story, and probably one room inside. The two smaller buildings looked like little more than huts.

Matt got out of the car, and I followed suit. As soon as I did, chills ran down my arms. This place had a deadened feeling, and I didn’t think I was sensing that because the compound was warded. Peru was so vibrant. So full of life. It was like there was magic in every piece of grass. But not here. The quiet felt empty.

An old man stepped from one of the bigger buildings. He took careful steps toward us, his back hunched over from his age. But his aura…

Black as pitch, shot through with blood-red ribbons.

The sight of it had my legs tensing, urging me to run the other direction. I fought my instincts, hoping that Lucas hadn’t changed his mind. That he really was out there somewhere. Listening in case I needed him.

Because I had a feeling I might need him very soon.

Another man came out of the building wearing the same outfit—black pants with a long black tunic. Coordinated clothes seemed normal for a secluded sect like this, but not coordinated auras.

The evil was there like Lucas has warned me. I’d expected that. But identical auras?

Auras were usually unique. Even the wolves, who had lots of similarities within their pack, varied in gold tones from white to orange to amber. Lucas’ was a very light yellow, almost white, while Dastien’s was a dark amber color. I couldn’t read my own aura, but I doubted mine was that close to Raphael’s and these two men weren’t twins by any means.

Matt stepped forward and talked quietly with the older man for a minute. The man nodded and turned to me, waving me over.

Swallowing my apprehension, I forced my feet to move. I had to do this. It was the only option. I repeated that in my head as a drop of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades.

“Hello, I’m Father Valentine. This is Father Alfred,” the old man said as I stood there, studying him. His tone was friendly enough, but I could see so much more. No matter how nice he pretended to be, this man wasn’t someone I should trust. “Don’t be shy. Come this way.”

I pushed all my fear aside, and gave him by best grin. “I’m Claudia de Santos.” My plan was to kill them with kindness, as my father always said. People usually underestimated what a kind person could do. “I’m sorry to come without calling first. I hope we’re not intruding on your day too much.”

He scoffed at that. “Not to worry, my dear. There’s no way to reach us without stopping by. We lack many of the amenities of the modern world—like running water and electricity. It’s nice to get an unexpected visitor or two.” He turned back toward the building. “Come to my house. We’ll have tea and see why you’ve traveled all this way.”

Father Alfred nodded, and led the way. From what I could tell, the older man, Father Valentine, ran the show around here.

As we walked into the compound, I tried to search for a glimmer of the white aura I’d seen yesterday. If I could narrow down where it was, then maybe I could sneak away to investigate.

A bright light caught my eye and I turned to find the source: a building in the back. It had no windows, only an open doorway but something glowed inside.

That was where I needed to go. Somehow I had to convince them to take me into that building.

“In here,” Father Valentine said, gesturing to one of the smaller buildings.

Already caught. So much for trying to be subtle. “What’s over there?” I motioned to the last building, where the road dead-ended.

“Oh, just another house. Nothing in there to interest a young girl like you.”

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

He disappeared into the smaller building on our right, and Matt followed him.

“Go on,” Father Alfred said from behind me.

I’d hesitated just long enough to arouse suspicion, but my body didn’t seem to want to obey the command to go inside.

Father Alfred touched my shoulder. “This way. Nothing will harm you here.”

I managed not to cringe away from his touch. If I’d been a wolf, I knew his words would’ve stunk of lies.

Just do it, Claudia.
I stepped through the doorway and immediately felt something brush past me. It felt slithery and slimy. I shuddered and looked down. A row of horseshoes was pressed into the dirt floor.

The small house was warded, but I couldn’t tell what against.

As soon as my eyes adjusted, all I could see was the altar. Incense burned on the stone, and it was surrounded with…

I swallowed. The things hanging there looked like dried baby goats.

What the…
I knew some evil
brujos
used ritual sacrifice in their magic, but I’d never heard of shrunken, dried carcasses being kept as decoration. At least, I hoped they were decoration. I didn’t want to know what they did if they were still active. That idea more than creeped me out.

You’re here for Raphael.
Remembering that truth kept me from running out the door.

I took in the rest of the altar. The more I stared at it, the weirder it got. The little deity holding a burning cigarette and surrounded by fake dollar bills took the cake. I’d seen some weird things in my life, but this was just…

Something ran across my shoe and I squealed.

“Calm down,” Matt said. “It’s just a guinea pig.”

“Oh. Right.” Because it was normal to have guinea pigs running through the house.

I took in the rest of the room. A small table with four chairs was placed against the far wall. To my right—the altar. And to my left was a hearth, with grating above it for cooking. In between the oven and the table, a neatly made twin bed pressed against the wall. The only window in the house—if house was the right word—was above the bed, but dark curtains blocked any light from coming through.

The fire burning in the hearth was the only real source of light. There was a chimney, but it must be blocked, because a lot of the smoke wafted into the room, making it seem hazy and foggy. It added to the creep factor. I wanted to pull the curtain aside and throw open the window, but that would’ve been rude.

Another guinea pig sniffed at my ankle, drawing my attention to the floor.

“Here,” said Father Alfred. “They’ll come out if I feed them.” He threw a bunch of greens on the floor, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, guinea pigs came running. There had to be at least fifty of them. Some big. Some little. All different colors.

It was so weird to think of these men taking care of animals. “You have a lot of pets, Father Valentine.”

The men started laughing.

“What?” What was so funny?

“They’re not pets, child,” said Father Valentine. “They’re dinner.”

What?
They had to be joking. No way would I ever eat one of those. I’d had a hamster way back when. Raphael had hated her, but I loved her. He eventually made such a stink that Daniel had to adopt Harriet the Hamster. I’d still gone to visit her every day at Daniel’s house.

Just like that, a wave of grief hit me. It was so quick. The image of Daniel playing with Harriet filled my mind, and tears welled.

“Don’t cry after this lot,” said Father Alfred, a British accent thick in his voice. “They’re more varmint than anything else. We only eat them once a week.”

That meant they killed them. And cut off their skin.

Oh God. I was going to be sick. If I thought about it anymore I was going to go vegetarian. I pushed all of that horror out of my mind. I needed something that these men had. Being polite was of the utmost importance.

Father Alfred moved around the room, grabbing the kettle from the fire and setting it on a trivet on the table. He placed four handle-less cups on the table, and went back to the hearth to grab a few jars that rested on the shelf above it. He sprinkled an assortment of herbs into the cups and then filled them with water to steep.

I watched every move, and realized I couldn’t possibly drink whatever was in that cup. Taking herbs from these men would be beyond stupid, but I wasn’t sure how I could get out of drinking without being suspicious.

“Come sit,” said Father Valentine as he settled into one of the chairs.

Matt took the seat next to him. “Where’s my cousin?”

“Oh, the others are on a spirit quest in the mountain. They’ve been gone for a fortnight. I don’t think they’ll be back for another few days. But I like to stick around here.” He chuckled to himself. “My bones are old. This young one stayed behind to make sure I didn’t do anything foolish.”

“That’s not quite accurate,” said Father Alfred. “I stayed back because last time we all left, you got yourself in a bit of trouble. Wolves.” He said the last word like it was disgusting.

It was to be expected, but it still annoyed me.

“Don’t talk too poorly of them in front of her. She seems to have grown fond of the wolves recently,” Matt said.

Father Valentine leaned back in his chair. “Is that right? Why would you waste your time with those dogs?”

I’d been around the wolves enough to know that “dog” was a huge insult. “I ran into a problem with my coven. I needed a place to go, and my cousin who was bitten offered sanctuary.” I didn’t want to go into too much detail. If Luciana liked to come here, then the old man definitely knew her. They might even be best friends.

Father Valentine grunted.

Well, this was going fantastically. How long did I need to give it before I politely segued into asking for access to the rest of their compound?

Matt motioned to me. “She thinks Luciana is raising demons.”

Matt! You idiot.

“What gives you that impression?” Father Alfred set his cup on the table with a thunk.

I wanted to wring Matt’s stupid neck. I had to play this carefully. If they really were the kind who dabbled in summoning, then I couldn’t come out and say I was looking for white magic. “She tried to raise some about a week ago, but she doesn’t have enough power to hold them. She’s playing a dangerous game.” Father Alfred and Father Valentine shared a disbelieving look, and I barely contained a sigh. This wasn’t going well. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but I’ve come a long way for help.” I didn’t say their help, because I didn’t want their help.

His bushy white eyebrows nearly disappeared along his hairline. “You want our help? I see.” He pushed the cup in front of me a little closer. “Well, let’s have a think on how we might be able to do that.”

None of the men made a move to sip their tea while they stared at me and I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of suspicion. I really, really didn’t want to take herbs from
brujos
I didn’t know. Especially ones with auras like theirs.

I picked up the cup, blew off the steam, and pretended to take a small sip before setting it back down. “A little hot.” I gave them my best smile.

Father Alfred smiled, but it wasn’t a nice one. “I’m not sure we have much experience with demons. What type are you trying to raise?”

Of course they’d assume I wanted to raise demons. They were evil. They’d expect me to want to do evil things, too, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t horribly outraged by the suggestion. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t want to raise any demons.”