Dead Man (Black Magic Outlaw Book 1) (5 page)

 

 

 

 

It took me a while to calm down. I didn't want Milena's help. I didn't want to hear anything, really. Her pleas to come inside the house fell on deaf ears. I just wanted to squeeze my head until it didn't hurt anymore.

Eventually something rational took command of my lizard brain. I still refused to go inside and see her grandfather, but I accepted that I needed to take a load off. The passenger seat of her Fiat worked well enough. We sat in the car and caught up.

"It was a couple years after you... died," she said slowly. "Everything spiraled out of control without you, Cisco. It was tough for them. Especially Seleste. She almost didn't graduate high school. Even when she did, she held off going to college."

I listened patiently, quietly, with a tear threatening in my eye. So much for law school. I frowned, sad but sober. In control. Intent on soaking in every last piece of information with a steady head.

"She was just starting to move on," said Milena. "Not forget, you know? But deal. She was getting her shit together and interested in going to school again. Then..."

My sister's best friend rested her head on the steering wheel. This was tough for her to relive.

"What happened?" I asked sternly.

"Someone broke into your house, Cisco. Your family's house, right down the block. Someone broke into their house and stabbed them to death." She cried again, and I could tell it had been a while since she'd thought of the tragedy. "They said it was a massacre."

If I'd been dead for ten years, that meant my rescue attempt was eight years too late. Some son I was.

"Who did it?" I asked calmly.

"No one knows."

I gritted my teeth. "Why?"

Milena paused, the emotional toll building. "No one knows anything, Cisco. But it scared the whole community. I couldn't live here anymore. I got an apartment, even if it meant leaving my grandfather here all by himself."

"Did you see the bodies?"

The girl turned to me, horror splayed across her face. "They were mutilated, Cisco—"

"Did you see the bodies?" I urged a little too forcefully.

Milena swallowed and shook her head. "They said it was them. Parts of them. But they identified them. The authorities wanted to cremate the remains but, you know, Catholics don't play that."

I nodded. My parents would've been mortified at the thought of cremation. At least their final wishes had been granted. Whatever those were worth. Here I was, back from the dead, master of death itself, and I couldn't tell you a thing about religious salvation. Some necromancer, huh?

My sister wouldn't have cared whether she was cremated. She was like me. On reflection, I guess it was a damn good thing I hadn't been. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here right now.

"Where are they?" I whispered. I had to pay my respects. I had to... see for myself.

"Saint Martin's."

I winced. It was a local cemetery in Little Havana. I had a hard time conflating the final resting place of my family with the graveyard I used to bike past while holding my breath. Innocent superstitions rooted deep.

"It's a really nice spot," Milena added after my silence. "Peaceful. Nice to see the family together. All four of you, under a winding oak tree."

"All four of us?"

She was tripped up by the incongruence of the statement. "I guess not really you. But your grave is there, right beside Seleste. Your parents bought all four plots after you died. It was their way of planning to reunite with you one day."

I frowned. They'd be waiting for me instead. Although our deaths overlapped by eight years, I had no memory of that period, no recollection of the afterlife or of being a spirit. I knew my soul existed, that I was more than flesh and bone. I knew it to my very core. All magic was based on that fact, after all. But I had no idea what that side of the world was actually like. Apparently, eight years experience hadn't made me an expert, or even a novice.

Milena interrupted my ruminations. "I can take you there. I have some time before work, actually."

I smiled. Ever thoughtful. It was nice being with someone I had a past connection with, even a weak one, but I didn't know if I could face the truth yet.

"Some other time," I told her.

She nodded like she understood. I twiddled my fingers, wondering where to take the conversation from here. Catching up had lost its allure.

Milena reached into her purse. It was an oversized bag that must have had five changes of clothes in it. She found a tissue and dabbed at her face. The waterworks were done. After a measured silence, she asked, "What happened to you, Cisco?"

I saw the question coming a mile away but still had no answer. I exhaled softly instead.

Milena knew about the spellcraft. She'd never witnessed much of it, but she was best friends with my sister, and I'd shared everything with Seleste. My sister had watched me practice firsthand, and the two didn't keep secrets from each other. Milena knew the deal, but she wasn't involved. I didn't think I should change that.

"I'll tell you when I find out," I answered. I probably wouldn't follow through, but it was semi-honest for now.

She sucked her teeth at me. "Don't even pretend that you're not gonna spill, Cisco."

I smiled. I guess she did have a little attitude after all. "It could be dangerous, Milena. Someone killed me and my family."

Her lips twisted in thought again. "You're still alive at least."

"I'm not so sure."

"So call the cops then."

I scoffed. "It's not that easy. What do I tell them when they ask where I've been the last ten years? 'I'm sorry, officer, I was dead, but I'm all better now.'"

"And you really don't remember anything?"

I shook my head and stared at the dashboard.

Milena leaned back in her seat, studying me. "This is about
brujería
, isn't it?"

I laughed, almost maniacally. Witchcraft. Black magic. It gets a bad rap. People fear it, but there's nothing inherently evil or demonic about it. Power tends to reveal a person's true nature, is all. People don't always like the truth.

Power is a staple of history. Legendary figures immortalized for their mastery in magic, some relegated to fairy tales, others sanitized for history books. Alexander the Great, Merlin, Hitler—they've all been helped along by the occult. The movers and shakers of the world, the special ones, don't fall into their status by accident. There's plenty of hard work, discipline, and knowledge at play.

But I wasn't in the mood for my diatribe. "This is something I need to do myself," I said.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly excited. "You should see Evan. He can help you."

My best friend. I hadn't even had time to think about him yet. Last I saw, he was a rookie cop for the City of Miami. "What's Evan up to these days?"

She flashed a triumphant look as if she'd solved all my problems. "He's head of some special task force for the city. He's really high up."

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah?" My buddy had never approved of the spellcraft, but he knew about it.

"For real. You need to tell him what happened. Let me get you his number and address." She dug around in her purse until she plucked out a tiny device with an Apple logo on the back.

"What the hell is that thing?" I asked as she touched the pane of glass. "No buttons?"

She arched an eyebrow. "You sound like my
abuelo
."

Her grandfather. At twenty-four, she was calling me old. "Give me a break," I protested. "I've been dead for ten years. I have no way of knowing what 'the kids' are into these days." I smiled but she didn't find it funny.

"I'm not a kid anymore, either."

"I kinda noticed."

She flashed long lashes at me. "I'm twenty-six. That's older than you were when you died."

I was dumbfounded by the realization. No way to look cool after that. I wondered if dead years counted for anything?

She continued gloating. "You could say I have more life experience than you."

I rolled my eyes. I'd forgotten how much snark Milena dished. She got it from my sister. "You gonna tell me what you're doing with the tricorder in your hand or what?"

She laughed. "You're such a geek. I don't know why I always had such a crush on you."

"Don't blame yourself. You're just a sucker for a nice face."

Her eyes slid up and down my arms. "Well, I'm not the only one who filled out. Death comes with a gym membership, apparently."

I shrugged. It was the one thing I couldn't complain about.

"Anyway," she continued, "I'm checking directions on my
cell phone
. You need one nowadays, although I'm not sure if the carriers offer recently-deceased plans."

"Keep it up," I warned, but I couldn't help smiling. It was nice to live in a world that wasn't so heavy, even if only for a few minutes. "Besides," I countered, "Cisco Suarez has a phone." I lugged the Nokia out of my pocket. The thing wasn't cutting edge when I'd been alive. Next to hers it was an absolute dinosaur. Gigantic, blocky; small, monotone LCD screen.

She laughed hysterically. "Oh my God, Cisco. Why don't you just use tin cans?"

I frowned. My phone had caller ID and a speaker and a microphone. What else did it need?

"Where did you get that thing?" she asked. "The dollar store?"

"It was in my pocket when I woke up," I explained.

Her cheer evaporated and her voice went low. "You mean it's not yours?"

I shrugged. "I guess it's mine. Why else would I have it? I don't remember buying it, though."

"Does it work?"

"Yeah. Someone called me, but they didn't say anything."

She snatched the Nokia from my hands, opened the case, pulled the battery, and tossed the mess of parts outside the window.

"What the hell?" I yelled.

She ignored me and opened her door, got out, and stomped on the phone a few times. "They could be tracking you," she said, returning to her seat.

"What, like with satellites and stuff?"

She shook her head. "It's not paranoid, Cisco. The world has changed a lot in the last ten years. You're gonna get yourself killed if you don't keep up. That's why you need to let people help you."

"Help how?"

She brought up a map display on her phone and showed me directions to Evan's field office.

I nearly drooled on the shiny glass display. "I gotta get me one of those."

"I can't imagine life without one. All the apps you'll ever need."

"You mean you can order mozzarella sticks with that thing?"

Her confused expression turned into boisterous laughter when she realized what I was thinking. "Not appetizers, dummy. Apps. Programs on your phone."

The possibilities streamed through my mind. Maps, websites, games. "You're saying I can get MySpace on that?"

Milena rolled her eyes. "You have a lot of catching up to do."

"Try me," I challenged.

"Okay," she said, a smile playing across her lips. "Let's see. Since you died, Apple became a leading tech company, geek is cool, and they actually make good superhero and James Bond movies now."

I licked my lips. "Hmm, okay. Interesting. Unlikely, even, but definitely not mind-blowing."

"Castro's out of the picture. Fidel, I mean."

I nodded. "I heard something about that."

"We have a black president now."

I resisted the urge to raise my eyebrows. "I admit, that one's a little wow, but inevitable."

She sighed. "Okay Cisco, let me take this down to your level then. They're on the Fifth edition of Dungeons & Dragons, Liam Neeson is a huge action star, and Axl finally released Chinese Democracy."

I threw my hands up to defend against the onslaught. "Okay, okay. I give. You're right. This is a strange new world. I bet everybody's kind and considerate on the internet now."

She stuck out her bottom lip and shook her head.

"Great," I said. "Did they get better at all?"

She thought ruefully for a moment. "People don't say fo shizzle anymore."

"Thank God for small miracles."

She giggled and I followed suit. "This is fun," she said. "And a total coincidence. I visit my
abuelo
twice a week so it's lucky running into you."

"How is the old man?" I asked.

"He watches TV all day. Never leaves the house. But he has his mind and wants to stay put, so I don't tell him otherwise."

I nodded. "What about you? What are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I'm doing okay. I have a condo in Midtown now."

"What's Midtown?"

"You
were
gone a long time. It's a new neighborhood north of Downtown."

"They don't call it Overtown anymore?"

"Further up."

"Little Haiti?"

"No, silly. Not that far. There are lots of shops and new developments there. It's nice. Trust me. A lot nicer than this old neighborhood."

I took a breath. "Whatever you say." But inside I wasn't so indifferent. Milena had managed to get out. I was happy for her.

"Anyway," she said, "take my number too." She scavenged a scrap of paper from her purse and copied it down. She must have everything in there. "Until you get yourself a phone."

"I kinda had one."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll pick up a prepaid for you. Something that doesn't require a contract." She handed me the paper. I now had her Midtown address and cell number along with Evan's office address, all scrawled in glittery pink ink.

"How manly."

"Most men could use some glitter."

I ignored her and focused on the paper. Thinking about the old crew again spun the wheels in my head. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked a question that was better left alone.