Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5) (13 page)

BOOK: Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5)
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“Right,” Caitlin said, and forced herself to smile at him, even though she knew it must have looked watery and weak. “I guess I’m just not used to this kind of thing. I mean, Damon Wilcox did some terrible stuff, but he’s gone, you know? I suppose it was naïve of me to think there wouldn’t be someone or something equally awful out there.”

Alex nodded, but she noticed how he’d barely looked at his food, either, although his left hand was resting on his fork, as if he’d intended to pick it up and then got distracted. “Well…you McAllisters do tend to be kind of isolated. In a way, that’s good. You’re focused on your own clan, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But there are a lot of other clans out there, some good, some…not as much, for whatever reason. At least with Damon, you knew exactly why he did the things he did, even if they were terrible. But this?” His shoulders went up, and at last he retrieved his fork and stuck it into the mound of chicken on his plate, even though he didn’t make a move to lift it. “I can’t figure out what their game is. Kidnapping a couple of witches from clans that are bound to retaliate isn’t exactly the smartest thing to be doing.”

“But we aren’t retaliating, are we?” Caitlin asked, and Alex gave her a considering look.

“Not yet. But don’t tell me that Angela and Connor won’t do something about it, or at least try to, once we’ve located Matías and his buddies. I know I would.”

Any protests she might have made died away as Caitlin considered Alex’s point. Neither Angela nor Connor was the type to go flying off half-cocked, but they also both had a strong sense of right and wrong, and the unwritten rule of the witch world was that if someone messed with your clan, you found some way to bring them to justice. No matter what.

Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, Caitlin finally picked up one of her tacos and took a bite, knowing if she didn’t start eating, the food would soon get cold. In an abstract way, she realized it was very good, and so she took another bite. Strangely enough, eating something seemed to help settle the nervous churning of her stomach. After she washed the food down with a swallow of her sangria, she said, “Maybe they will retaliate. I can’t speak for them. But I know that whatever they do, it will be measured. They won’t do something stupid, just in the name of revenge.”

Alex didn’t respond at first, but followed her lead by eating a few bites of his own meal. Then he asked, “You think a lot of them, don’t you?”

“Connor and Angela? Well, why wouldn’t I? She’s my
prima
, and he’s her consort.”

“True, but not everyone always agrees with their
prima
, do they? Even if they publicly go along with what she says.”

Caitlin thought that over for a few seconds. “Maybe, but so far Angela hasn’t done anything that would make me question her judgment. She and Connor are both kind of live-and-let-live types. I’m not saying she hasn’t stepped in from time to time when someone’s gotten out of hand, but she’s definitely not some kind of dictator. Which is as it should be. I don’t have any reason to think she’ll do something crazy now, either.”

The expression on Alex’s face was hard to decipher. He didn’t say anything at first, but from the way his eyes narrowed slightly, Caitlin wondered if he was trying to process her view of her
prima
with the girl he’d only met a few times, someone he hadn’t seen for several years. And those were important years. Angela was now a mother, had a few years of being
prima
under her belt. She’d changed. But then, who wouldn’t, after everything she’d experienced?

Finally, Alex said, “Well, that’s good to hear. Because the last thing we need is a clan war on our hands.”

Caitlin couldn’t argue with that. “Even though Matías might turn out to be one of Simón Santiago’s, I kind of doubt he’d do much to stick up for him, once the truth comes out about what Matías has been doing. You’d think Simón would wash his hands of him, if only to do some damage control.”

“I hope you’re right.” The worried expression on Alex’s features smoothed itself into something else entirely. There was even a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “So, since we can’t fix all the world’s problems at dinner, why don’t we let that all go for now?”

That sounded like a great idea. She raised her glass in agreement. “I’ll drink to that.”

I
t was
a relief to shift gears, to watch some of the tension leave Caitlin’s face as he purposely moved the conversation to something a little lighter, like how he’d found this restaurant, his favorite places to go in and around the city — anything except her kidnapped friends and the dark powers their kidnappers seemed to be employing. She asked about his family, and he told her how Diego was now living down near Bisbee, his wife already expecting their first child. “Nothing like not wasting any time, considering they just got married in June,” Alex had remarked, and Caitlin grinned, a dancing light he hadn’t seen before coming to her eyes.

She told him about her brother the chef, how his talent was coming up with amazing recipes and food combinations right out of thin air — or so it appeared to the foodies who had started flocking to Cottonwood to try his various creations. “Everyone was so amazed by Michael that they sort of missed how I hadn’t developed any powers,” she said. “Which was fine by me.”

“Well, any powers you were willing to tell them about,” he countered, and a bit of the twinkle in her eyes faded.

“Okay, you got me there. But yeah, I was just fine with letting my brother bask in the limelight. It made things a lot easier for me.”

Alex reflected there might be something to that. His own brother charmed everyone within a twenty-mile radius, it seemed like, to the point that even when he married Maria and disappeared to Bisbee to make wine, neither of his parents were that upset with him. Then again, why should they be? There was always good old dependable Alex to pick up the slack at the store.

“Something wrong?” Caitlin asked.

This was a topic he really didn’t feel like going into, so he just shrugged. “Not really.”

“Oh, come on. For a split-second, you looked like you’d been sucking on a lemon or something.”

Despite himself, Alex chuckled. “That bad?”

“Yeah. And since I’ve told you some of my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me at least one of yours.”

Damn. She had been pretty honest with him so far, once she’d unburdened herself of the secret she’d been hiding from everyone for years. “It’s not that big a deal. I just — running a store wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d end up, you know?”

A look of confusion passed over her face. “But…it’s your family business, right? Why wouldn’t you end up there? I mean, I thought that’s sort of how it works down here.”

Not the sort of question most girls of their generation would have asked. But witch families followed their own rules, had their own traditions. Especially here in de la Paz territory, where things tended to be more rigid than in freewheeling Jerome. He hesitated, then said, “My great-grandfather started the store, and then my grandfather inherited it, and he passed it on to my father. He wasn’t the oldest child, but he was the only son.” He flashed a grin at Caitlin, who flushed prettily and picked up her sangria, trying to pretend she hadn’t been affected by his smile. Not that he’d meant it that way, but her reaction was interesting. Maybe she wasn’t quite as “all business” as he’d thought. “Four daughters, and then finally my dad. My grandfather was ready to tear his hair out.”

“He could’ve left the store to his oldest daughter,” Caitlin pointed out.

“Tradition. A woman wasn’t supposed to run the
mercado
.”

“That’s silly.”

Maybe to her, it was. The McAllisters seemed to have a more female-dominated culture than the de la Paz family. Yes, a
prima
ran things here…but that was sort of where the buck stopped, so to speak. “It’s how it was. Diego was supposed to take over for my father, but he never wanted to. I have a feeling part of the reason he married Letty was that he could go help her with her family’s vineyards and be safely away from Tucson and the store.”

Caitlin’s brows went up. “Isn’t that a little, I don’t know…cynical?”

You don’t know my brother,
Alex thought, but he didn’t bother to voice the notion aloud. “Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, that left me. My little sister doesn’t have any interest in running the store. Besides, it wouldn’t suit her talent.”

“What’s that?”

“She can…well, ‘talk to the animals’ sounds sort of Horse Whisperer-ish, but that’s basically what she can do. Knows how they’re feeling, knows the best way to work with them. She’s finishing up her degree in biology now, and then she’s going to vet school.”

An expression of not-quite envy passed over Caitlin’s face. “That’s a really cool talent.”

“I know. But obviously it’s not of much use when it comes to running a store. And my parents said to themselves, ‘Hey, Alex just got his degree in marketing. He’ll be perfect at running the
mercado!
’”

“So why the degree in marketing, if you didn’t want to manage the store?”

He’d never confessed his goals to anyone before. Not completely, anyway. A marketing degree was a good one to have, and the communications degree on top of that was just the cherry on the sundae. But Caitlin was gazing at him so earnestly, one dark russet eyebrow arched at an adorable angle, that he found himself saying, “I wanted to work in local television — you know, one of the stations up in Phoenix?”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Like a reporter or something?”

“No,” he replied, knowing that was the expected reaction. “I would’ve gotten a journalism degree for that instead of the marketing one. I wanted to do more behind-the-scenes stuff, maybe producing, once I’d put in my time as an intern. Since I’m bilingual, I could’ve tried for some of the Spanish-language stations, too, if the right opportunity presented itself.”

She sat back in her chair, looking impressed. “No wonder you’re grumpy about having to manage the store.”

“‘Grumpy’?” he repeated. “Is it that obvious?”

“Right now it is. But before this, I probably wouldn’t have guessed it was such a sore subject.” Her gaze slipped away from his, and she toyed with the napkin in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Sorry that you didn’t get to do what you wanted to do. But I guess that happens to a lot of us.”

She spoke simply, but he caught the trace of bitterness in her voice. “And what is it that you wanted to do? I mean, you’re going to Northern Pines, right?”

“Right. I am.” Still not looking at him, she added, “It’s nothing. I’m babbling. Long day and too much sangria.”

Alex wasn’t so sure about that, since she’d only had a glass and a half, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. “Well, if you’re done, I can get the check, and we can go home.”

“Sounds great.”

Was it his imagination, or had he heard a hint of trepidation in her tone? Maybe she was worried about what they’d do when they got there, whether he’d press her to sleep in his room again, just to be safe. As much as he’d enjoy that, he’d let her make her own decision. She should know he’d never urge her to do something she didn’t want to do.

After flagging the waiter down and asking for the check, he and Caitlin sat in a semi-uncomfortable silence until the rest of the ritual could be completed and he could drop the necessary number of twenties down on the table. Good thing he’d been carrying a decent amount of cash; waiting to have his credit card run would have been even worse.

They drove back to his place, still not talking. She looked out the window, seemingly staring at the clear skies above, at all the bright stars winking overhead. They couldn’t be that new to her, though; Jerome had to have even less light pollution than Tucson, even for all his hometown’s reputation as a dark sky city, a place that purposely cut back on its nighttime lighting so as not to interfere with the spectacular desert starscape.

He pulled into the garage and shut off the Pathfinder’s engine. Even as he pulled the key from the ignition, Caitlin opened the passenger-side door and got out. She did have to wait for him to come around and unlock the door that led from the garage to the house, but once he’d done that, she pushed inside, as if afraid to be alone with him in the dark.

Two of the lamps in the living room were on timers, so they came on whether he was home or not. Their soft glow provided enough illumination to show Caitlin pausing next to the breakfast bar in the kitchen, her expression diffident.

“Thanks for dinner. It was really good.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, the automatic response. He moved toward her, to the little bowl he had sitting on the end of the bar, where he generally dumped his keys at the end of the day. She stepped away — less than a foot, but enough to show she was uncomfortable with allowing him to get too close.

Damn. Talk about mixed signals. With the way she’d looked at him earlier that evening, he’d thought…oh, never mind what he thought. She was here to help find her friends and for no other reason.

“Do you watch
The Walking Dead?
” he asked, forcing his tone to be relaxed, casual. They had to do something to fill up the rest of the evening, since it wasn’t even eight-thirty yet. Watching TV seemed the most innocuous thing to do.

For a second, Caitlin looked puzzled, and then what he could have sworn was a look of relief crossed her face. “Yeah, I do.”

“Did you see this week’s episode?”

A shake of the head. “No, I was down in Jerome having Sunday dinner with my family. Danica was supposed to download it for me, but….” She let the words trail off. They both knew Danica probably wasn’t going to be downloading anything for a while.

Alex let it go. He knew nothing he could say would change anything or make it better. “Well, I’ve got it on my DVR. What do you say we go and put our feet up, and watch some people who have even worse problems than we do?”

For a second, she didn’t respond, only seemed to be staring down at the toes of the somewhat scuffed ballet flats she wore. Then she looked up and smiled — a real smile, the kind that seemed to light something in those beautiful blue-green eyes of hers.

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