As we drove, though, instead of being worried or frightened, I found myself getting angry. Aunt Rachel had recognized Damon Wilcox at once, which meant she knew what he looked like. How that was possible, I didn’t know for sure. I’d heard his name, of course, but when I’d tried to do a little surreptitious Googling of him, I couldn’t find anything about him. Which didn’t make much sense, because one time when I was eavesdropping on a conversation between Tobias and my aunt, I overheard that he was a professor of some sort at Northern Pines University. Of what, I hadn’t been able to catch, but still, a professor generally has some sort of public profile. Maybe he’d done a magical scrub of Google to keep his information off it. If that were the case, he’d accomplished a lot more than any computer hacker I’d ever heard of.
While I ruminated on that and watched the sprawling shopping centers with their chain stores and restaurants pass by, I only felt my irritation increase. It wasn’t just that Aunt Rachel had never bothered to describe Damon Wilcox to me so that I could give him a wide berth if I ever met him. No, it was the way she hadn’t told me that marrying a warlock who wasn’t my consort would still be enough to protect me, even if such a union would forever bar me from developing my full powers. Or how she hadn’t bothered to mention the curse of the Wilcox clan and the true reason why I’d had my entire existence bounded by the relative safety of Jerome.
Margot Emory had said Rachel was trying to protect me, but I couldn’t see how not knowing the whole truth was of any benefit. All right, some of it might have been too frightening to tell a young girl, and waiting possibly served some purpose. But I was almost twenty-two now, and although I was sheltered in a lot of ways, I wasn’t completely innocent. Plenty of information to be had on the Internet if you needed to have your curiosity satisfied.
The bright sun and the palm trees blowing in the warm wind and the gleaming high-rises around us seemed incongruous when balanced against my brooding thoughts. It wasn’t the sort of place you expected to see a group of dark warlocks descend, that was for sure. Had they left, or were they still watching us, waiting to see if the de la Paz crew might leave us undefended at some point?
A chill went over me as I recalled Damon Wilcoxes hungry dark eyes, the way he had smiled so knowingly at me. Even the Verde Valley’s oldest virgin could figure out exactly what he wanted.
I didn’t know if I made a sound, or a sudden movement, but Aunt Rachel asked in worried tones, “Angela, are you all right?”
Of course I wasn’t. Not really. But I was angry at her, for all the things she’d hidden and hadn’t said. Angry as I was, though, this was not the place for me to blow up. True, everyone in the van was family, more or less. Even so, there was family, and then there was family. The things I wanted to say to her would have to wait until the two of us were alone together.
So I only shook my head and told her, “I’m fine. That was just…not something I was expecting. But I’m okay.”
Her expression was still dubious, but she appeared unwilling to press the issue. Instead, she gave a little nod and then turned to look back out the window. We were turning now down the side street that led to the parking garage. I glanced behind us. The black Suburban was still there.
Since it was now past noon and people from the surrounding high-rise office buildings had apparently converged on the place for lunch, we did have to drive to the upper level of the parking structure to get two spots next to one another. Phil waited for the de la Paz men to get out of their SUV, and then he unlocked the doors of the van so we could all climb out as well.
“You know where the Apple store is?” Alex asked me.
“I think so.”
He smiled even as he shook his head. “I’ll guide you in. Come on.”
Once we got to the ground level, we entered the shopping center proper. Most of the people around us were well-dressed and glossy, and I wondered what they thought of our contingent. Bad enough that we were now such a large group that we’d attract attention merely from our sheer numbers. Add to that Rachel’s swirling India-print skirt and Phil’s ponytail and dark brown tunic, which looked like he’d stolen it off someone in an ashram somewhere, and we didn’t exactly fit in.
I generally didn’t buy a huge number of holiday presents, mainly because once I went outside my own little circle, I felt as if I should be getting something for each and every McAllister in Jerome, and that would break the bank pretty fast. Sydney was already taken care of, and after I saw Aunt Rachel pick up an iPad mini, look it over, then set it back down with a regretful look on her face, I decided to get one for her. Yes, I was angry with her, but she’d done so much for me. I had more money now than I’d ever had before to spend on gifts, and I might as well get her something she wanted.
So I went over to one of the blue-shirted store employees and made my request in an undertone as Aunt Rachel turned away to inspect a display of laptop bags, then added a fun weather station you operated with your iPhone to my order. Adam would love that…and since it seemed we were probably going to be shacked up together in the near future, I figured I should buy him something good for Yule. And he did love his iPhone.
Most of the rest of my group was what you’d call technologically impaired, so they didn’t get much. The whole time I was aware of the watching eyes of the de la Pazes on me, especially Alex. He was still as attractive as ever, but I didn’t think he was quite as good-looking as Chris Wilson.
Who had never returned my call. After I finished paying for my items, I fished out my phone…trying not to feel self-conscious about using an Android device in an Apple store…and checked it for any missed calls. Nada.
By then it was almost one. “Everyone hungry?” I asked, after we’d regrouped in the courtyard outside.
Head nods and various yeses.
“Zinburger is good,” Alex offered. “I’ll show you.”
We all trooped after him, following along like ducklings following the momma duck. I wondered if any of the people watching us go by thought we were on some kind of tour. There were far too many of us to be seated at one table, so we had to settle for adjacent spots toward the back of the restaurant. And although Alex looked as though he would rather have sat by me, we all ended up more or less segregated by clan, with my aunt on one side of me and Henry Lynch on the other.
I would rather have sat by Alex, too, especially now that Chris seemed to have blown me off, but it wasn’t worth making a fuss over. So I perused the menu, eyed the wine listings wistfully, and decided against anything stronger than a milkshake. That and a burger should hold me through whatever other shopping we decided to do. I still needed to get something for Tobias, and probably small things for the clan elders, as that was sort of expected. For them, though, I could gift some of my talismans, which would certainly be more appreciated than anything store-bought.
“…should head home before dark,” Henry was saying to Phil.
Setting down the menu, I sent Henry a quizzical look. He lifted his shoulders and said, “I know we’d discussed going more places, maybe staying down here for dinner, too, if it shook out that way. But after what happened back there” — a significant jerk of his chin in the direction of Nordstrom Rack — “I think it’s safest to do what we can here and then get on the road. Too many isolated spots on the highway once you get out of Phoenix.”
That was true enough. Yes, you could always count on there being traffic, but even so, there were long, dark stretches with no off-ramps, no towns…no nothing. It was easy enough to imagine the Wilcoxes lying in wait there, maybe with a spell ready that would blow out one of the van’s tires, or kill the engine, or….
Quickly banishing that thought from my mind, I nodded. “You’re probably right.” Once we got off the highway at 260 and were heading to Cottonwood and then Jerome, we’d be safe enough. But there was a lot of open road before that, and night came early at this time of year.
The waitress showed up to take our orders then, so we cut the discussion off until she left. Henry repeated his suggestion, and although both Aunt Rachel and Allegra Moss looked a little disappointed, once he added, “And Angela agrees with me,” there was no further discussion.
So apparently my word as prima had some weight, even with my aunt.
After lunch we told the de la Paz crew of our plans. Alex protested, saying that they’d follow us all the way home if necessary, but I said, “No, we couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve done enough already. There’s plenty to keep us occupied here for the next hour or so, and then we’ll get on the road. Besides, leaving so we can get home before dark will also get us out of Phoenix before the worst of the rush hour, right?”
He gave a reluctant nod. “All right. But I had to offer, or my abuela would have my hide.”
I grinned at that. “I’ll make sure she knows.”
It was silly for all fourteen of us to be marching around the place in lock-step. There was no sign of the Wilcoxes, and we each had our own shops that we wanted to visit. Groups of three seemed safe enough, especially since one of the de la Paz crew’s particular gift was being able to sniff out dark warlocks, which was why their prima had included him as part of the group. He informed us that he couldn’t sense the Wilcoxes anywhere near. So I had him and Alex accompany me while the rest of the Jerome contingent went their separate ways, with a de la Paz in tow, of course.
At Pottery Barn I found a fun leaf-shaped candle bowl for Tobias, who always had some kind of interesting lighting going on. As the sales clerk was wrapping it up for me, Alex said, “You seem pretty calm about the whole thing.”
“Well, I am now,” I replied. “That was a pretty good show of the cavalry coming in to save the day back there.”
I’d kept my tone light on purpose, but his expression was serious. The dark eyes scanned my face. “You took a risk coming down here, you know.”
“We thought we’d taken the necessary precautions.” Was Alex Trujillo trying to tell me we’d been foolish for coming to Phoenix? “What, are we supposed to just cower in Jerome indefinitely?”
“Not indefinitely, but…you know….” He let the words trail off, then appeared to be holding his tongue as the clerk came back with my package.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t be out and about in my delicate condition?”
He didn’t rise to the bait. “It was risky. My abuela, she thought the same thing, which is why she sent us to watch over you. I wonder if you know exactly what the Wilcoxes are capable of.”
“Probably more than you, since it was my great-aunt they tried to kidnap back in the day,” I retorted. Then I let out a sigh. “Wow, I really am cranky today.”
This time he smiled. “I think you’ve had reason.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. “Almost three. I’d better get you back. Everyone should be meeting up in the courtyard now.”
Sure enough, the rest of the Jerome party was already there, all of them clutching a variety of shopping bags. So at least they’d managed to salvage something from the trip. We headed back to the parking structure, the de la Pazes waiting while we got in the van. As I fastened my seatbelt, Alex said, “We won’t follow you all the way, if that’s your wish, but we’ll at least see you back to the highway.”
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it.
He nodded, then slid the heavy van door shut. I settled back in my seat, watching his tall form as he walked around the Suburban and got in the front passenger seat. As I did so, I wondered if maybe part of Aunt Rachel’s reasoning for keeping certain truths from me was to prevent me from settling for a handsome candidate like Alex instead of holding out for my actual consort. If I were going to be perfectly honest with myself, then I should admit that maybe I would have been less inclined to wait, knowing that having any warlock as my partner would still protect me from the Wilcoxes, even if entering such a relationship would prevent me from gaining all my powers.
Who knew? Coulda, woulda, shoulda, I thought, repeating one of Sydney’s favorite fall-back phrases. At this point it really didn’t matter one way or another. Either my consort would show up in the next few weeks, or I’d be marrying Adam just to keep myself…and the clan…safe. More or less.
At least now I had a face to put to my enemy. Maybe it had been risky to come here. But Damon Wilcox had taken a risk, too. Before he was a stranger. Now he’d revealed himself. What was it Great-Aunt Ruby had written?
So handsome…so evil.
Obviously those traits had been carried down to the current generation. I shivered, and told myself it was just that Phil had the A/C turned up too high. Phoenix felt shockingly warm after the chilly early December winds up in our part of the world. Above Jerome, Mingus Mountain still had a faint dusting of snow from the last storm that had passed through.
As we turned onto Camelback Road and headed toward the freeway, my phone rang. Puzzled, I dug it out of my purse. Maybe Sydney was calling in a last-minute shopping request. Too bad, since we were already on the road.
But the number on the screen was from the 602 area code, not 928. I frowned at it for a second, then guessed who it must be. “Hello?” I said.
“Angela.” Chris’s voice. “I am so sorry — I let my phone run down last night while I was in the studio working on my latest painting, and I was up so late that I just crashed without even checking it. So are you in Phoenix?”
He hadn’t blown me off, or forgotten about me. The warmth that flooded me was short-lived, though. “We’re here, but we’re already on the way home.”
“You are?” he asked, sounding confused. “I thought you said you’d be spending most of the day here. It’s only a little after three.”
“I know.” I really hated that my aunt was sitting next to me in the back seat. Not exactly the best conditions for a private conversation. “Something came up.”
His tone sharpened a little. “Everything okay?”
Not really, I thought. “It’s sort of a family thing.” I didn’t trust myself to say anything more than that.
A pause, maybe while he tried to decide what would be appropriate to ask and what wouldn’t. “I’m sorry to hear that. Things are busy right now, since all my projects are due at the end of this week.”
“No finals?” I asked.
“Not in the studio art program. Just projects. Lots and lots of projects.”
There was such a rueful note in his voice that I had to chuckle a little, even though I was not all that happy about missing this one chance to see him. I had a feeling there wouldn’t be any more.
“Well, maybe we can try again once you’re out for the semester.”
The slightest of hesitations, one I probably wouldn’t have even noticed in person but which seemed more obvious over the phone. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll give you a call when I unearth myself from these piles of paint and canvas.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“’Bye.”
The call ended, and I frowned as I shoved my phone back in my purse. I might not have been the most experienced girl around, but even I knew what “I’ll give you a call” meant, i.e, “it might have been fun, but you’re not really worth the effort.”
I stared out the window at the endless succession of cookie-cutter housing tracts and shopping malls and industrial parks that flashed by as we cruised down the freeway. Maybe once I would have been fascinated, or wondered what it was like to live in such a vast sprawl, to have everything you needed right at your fingertips instead of having to drive miles to get it or order it by mail.
Right then, though, I just wanted to get home. Back to Jerome, where it was more or less safe.
Back home, where my Aunt Rachel and I had some unfinished business.
She seemed to sense that I wanted to talk to her…and was trying to do whatever she could to put off the confrontation for as long as possible.
“Tobias and I had discussed going to the Vaquero Grill for dinner, since I don’t really have time to put anything together,” she said as she got out of the van. “Do you want to come?”
Obviously I was not going to start a blowout in a restaurant, especially in front of Tobias. I shook my head. “I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll stop in at Grapes and get a pizza, then go on home.” I said this last bit with my voice slightly raised, so the bodyguards could know what I was planning.
They all looked worn-out and like they wanted nothing more to go home and crash. Amazing how tiring driving could be when all you did was sit for hours. “I’ll send word to tonight’s watchers and let them know,” Allegra said.
Well, at least the day crew was getting a break. “Thanks,” I told her, then waved to everyone and headed across the street to Grapes, which was busy but not heinously so. I waited at the bar until my pizza was ready, then went on up the hill to the house, juggling the pizza box in one hand and my shopping bags in the other. My house, I reminded myself, although it still didn’t feel exactly like mine.
I shoved the bags under one arm and put my hand on the knob, sending out the little feelers with my mind to have the tumblers fall where they needed to. The lock clicked, and I began to open the door.
“Hey, Angela.”
Adam’s voice. I half turned to see him standing on the garden path, in front of the bottom step. Pushing back my irritation — I really just wanted to sit down and eat my pizza in peace — I said, “Hi, Adam.”
“I heard about what happened today.”
Great. So this wasn’t merely a social call. Still balancing the pizza box in one hand, I told him, “You’d better come on inside. Have you eaten yet?”
He shook his head. There went my plan for leftovers tomorrow night. But since it would be rude to do anything else, I added, “Then you can help me with this pizza.”
Face brightening, he hurried up the steps and then finished opening the door for me. I was happy to be inside; a cold wind was blowing, and I still had on only a light top and no jacket.
I went into the dining room and set the pizza down on the table, then dropped my shopping bags on one of the chairs. The house was mostly dark, with only a light on in the hall, so I hoped Adam couldn’t really see where the bags were from. I wanted his present to be a surprise.
It seemed a little silly to be eating pizza in that grand space, with seating for ten and the heavy wrought-iron chandelier I’d picked out hanging overhead, so I turned to him and asked, “Do you mind if we go into the family room instead? It’s a little cozier.”
“Sure,” he said, and came over and picked up the pizza before I could retrieve it. He didn’t appear to notice the shopping bags at all, and I let out a little mental sigh of relief.
We needed napkins and plates, so I went in the kitchen and fetched some. Then my gaze fell on the wine rack sitting on the chipped tile counter. It had been a hell of a day. Maybe sitting down and drinking with Adam wasn’t the greatest idea, but he was seeming more and more…inevitable. It might be time to stop fighting the whole idea.
“Wine?” I asked, and moved toward the wine rack. “I think I’ve got some chianti in here.”
“Sure,” he said, trying to act nonchalant, but I could see how he perked up at the suggestion.
Nothing for it, then. I extracted the bottle of chianti and fetched some glasses from the cabinet, then got out the corkscrew.
“Can you manage this?” I asked. “I never was very good at it.”
“Some witch you are,” he returned with a grin, then came over to pick up the bottle and the corkscrew.
“I did unlock the door without a key, you know.”
“I guess that’s handy, too.”
He struggled a little with the wine as well, but I didn’t offer to help. I had a feeling he spent more time opening beer bottles than wine bottles. At least he got the cork out, though, and I took the plates and napkins and pizza box while he brought the wine and our glasses to the family room.
It had been the sitting room when this was Ruby’s house, but a family room seemed a lot more practical. There was another fireplace here, on the wall opposite the flat-screen TV. Logs had already been piled there, awaiting a cold evening.
Well, it was cold now. Adam must have noticed my glance toward the hearth as I set the pizza and plates down on the heavy coffee table, which was one large piece of polished juniper with glass on top. “Want a fire?” he asked.
“That would be great.”
He grinned. “Watch this — I’ve been practicing.” And he turned and focused his attention on the pile of logs, muttering something I couldn’t quite catch under his breath.
Almost at once, I saw a lick of flame start at the end of one log, and then quickly spread along its length. Soon the whole pile was crackling away happily, warming the room.
“Hey, Angela!” I heard Kirby’s voice echo down the hall. “The night crew is here.”
“We’re in the sitting room,” I called back.
A minute later, Kirby’s tousled brown head was peering around the doorframe. His eyebrows lifted a little when he saw me sitting there with Adam. “Oh, hey, didn’t know you had company.”
“Just grabbing some dinner,” I told him, although between the bottle of wine and the fire and the low light from the sconces on the walls, it probably looked like more than simply dinner.
“Got it,” he replied. “Well, we’ll be over in the living room if you need anything.”
“Okay,” I said, not sure whether I should be relieved or annoyed by my built-in chaperones.
During that exchange with Kirby, Adam had been busying himself with setting out the plates and napkins, and pouring a healthy measure of chianti into each glass. He’d kept the pizza box closed, though, probably to make sure it didn’t get cold before we even had a chance to eat it.
He handed a full wine glass to me. “Here’s to surviving an encounter with Damon Wilcox.”
I wouldn’t let myself shudder. No point in asking how he knew; news like that traveled fast in the McAllister clan. I just took the glass from him and said, “Cheers.”
We clanked glasses, and both drank. It hadn’t been that long since lunch, but even so I could feel the warmth of the wine as it traced its way down my throat, relieving some of the tension in my neck and back. In silence we helped ourselves to some pizza. Adam had eaten most of his piece before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because….” I let the word trail off, then shook my head. “Nothing really happened. The de la Pazes made sure of that. And I just….” Another swallow of wine heartened me somewhat. “Because I’m home now. I’m safe here. And I don’t want to bring something that dark under this roof, I guess.”
Expression sober, Adam nodded. Energy was something we all understood, since magic was energy. Invoking the name of something was giving it a chance to worm its way into your life. I wanted the energy in this house to be pure and strong.
“Okay,” he said. He lifted his glass again. “Here’s to the de la Paz clan, then.”
I definitely could drink to that, and swallowed some more chianti. With each drink of wine and bite of pizza I was beginning to feel more relaxed. I was home, and the bodyguards were out in the living room, and the space where I sat now was warm and cozy, with the fire crackling away in its simple hearth of travertine and dark-stained oak, and the walls in a deep parchment shade reflecting the glow from the wrought iron and alabaster sconces.
In this light Adam’s mid-brown hair looked darker, and I couldn’t see his eye color at all. No, he wasn’t exactly a Chris Wilson, or even an Adam Trujillo, but he was nice-looking. I’d spent a lot of time trying to ignore that fact since he wasn’t my consort and therefore not someone I should be thinking of like that.
You’d better start thinking that way now, I thought with some resignation. Sure, maybe there’s the slightest chance of a Hail Mary pass this late in the game, but I wouldn’t put any money on it.
“You’re looking very serious,” Adam said, setting down his wine glass. After being raised by Aunt Rachel, I had the instinctive impulse to reach for a coaster, but then I realized that was silly. I’d put a glass-topped table in here precisely so I wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing while I was trying to relax.
“Am I? Long day.” That wasn’t even a lie. I just didn’t know if I was ready to admit to him what I’d really been thinking about.
Silently he reached in the pizza box and set another slice on my plate, then poured me some more wine. I wondered if he were trying to get me tipsy. Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad idea. I was safe here, after all, and I thought after the confrontation with Damon Wilcox and the disappointment at not getting to see Chris Wilson, a slight wine buzz might be just what I needed.
So I ate some more pizza and drank some more wine, and watched the flames dancing in the hearth. Adam seemed to understand that I didn’t feel like talking, and ate and drank along with me.
This wasn’t so bad. Maybe it didn’t have to all be blazing sunsets and grand passions and shooting stars. I’d dreamed of someone, but he’d never materialized, and I could tell the whole Chris Wilson thing was a total dead end. It was probably foolish to have thought otherwise.
And after what Margot Emory had told me about any warlock being enough to ensure my safety, even if it meant sacrificing the true strength of my powers….
I figured I could live with that.
A large drink of chianti, to give me courage. Then I set down my glass and looked across the table at Adam. I was sitting on the couch, and he on one of the two armchairs that faced it. “I want you to kiss me.”
He’d been in the middle of lifting his own glass to his mouth. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Instead of setting down the glass, he drained it — which sounds worse than it was, since he only had a few swallows left in it anyway. Once it was empty, he did place it carefully on the tabletop. “What’s this about, Ange?”
“What do you think it’s about? You’re the one who said we should be together if my consort continues to be a no-show.” I crossed my arms and met his gaze straight on…or as straight on as I could manage after two large glasses of wine. A heavyweight with alcohol I was not.
“Right, I did, but….”
“But nothing. All these years you’ve been on my case about this, and now when I’m actually inviting you to kiss me, you’re going to act all weird about it?”
Something crossed his face then. Annoyance? Worry? In the dim light it was hard for me to tell. I could see him clench his fist on his knee, as if fighting some inner conflict. Then he got up from his chair and came over to me. Standing above me like that, he seemed very tall.
“Stand up,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because if this is the decision you’re making, if by asking me to kiss you, you’re saying we’re going to be together, then I want you to stand up and kiss me like the prima of the McAllisters. I don’t want to be a couple of kids making out on a couch.”
He meant it, I could tell. There was a note of authority in his voice that I’d never heard before, as if