Heart Strings (Black Magic Outlaw Book 3) (19 page)

 

 

 

 

Heartstrings are funny things. They pull at us when we least want them to. They hurt with little reason or recourse. We lock them under layers of pleasantries, pretend we're not damaged, and carry forward, but no matter our heads we can never cut them away completely.

Our hearts inspire us to take wild leaps and desperate gambits, often to our detriment. Some see wisdom in ignoring these pulls. One thing humankind may never learn is how to control where our strings lead.

Emily Cross was never evil. She'd been a thrall of sorts, under a compulsion of passion. Find Cisco Suarez, the Taíno shadow charmer. String him along until he discovers the Horn of Subjugation, the key to gaining a death grip on the Miami necromantic community. Plain and simple, Emily had marching orders and she executed them as she believed was right. As Connor Hatch had forced her to believe.

And I killed her sister for it.

The Covey were all victims, in a sense, used for their power, influence, and assets. Just like I had been. Maybe theirs wasn't a full compulsion, but a suggestion. A driving spirit. Perhaps they were seduced by powerful forces, tricked into compromises that ultimately surrendered their souls. But could I take the moral high ground? Could I claim that I hadn't searched for the Horn out of ambition?

We, all of us, were elephants trudging on anthills, oblivious to the destruction underfoot.

Tunji Malu was a fiend, a West African vampire who took glee in cruelty. I'd seen no heart locket on him. Never recovered one from his body. I barely remembered the obeah man's death so I couldn't speak for him. But the paper mage was dead. Was that justice? Sure, I couldn't claim she was a good person. She never showed remorse or hesitation like Emily. But did she deserve to die?

I, Cisco Suarez, could easily have been killed during my zombie service. One of my many marks might've gotten the jump on me, or Laurent Baptiste could've succeeded in his ambush. Then I would have fallen, just as Kita had, while under the will of another.

I won't lie. It fucked me up to think that I killed people who could've been me. I knew now there was no right or wrong about it. Just happenstance. But I would never forgive myself.

What did I tell you about heartstrings?

An SUV pulled to the curb and Evan Cross exited the driver's seat. I stood up from the merry-go-round, but the passenger door didn't open. I could see them inside, though. Shadows.

Evan walked through the gate of the neighborhood park and met me in the playground. It was a weekday, lunchtime, so we had the place to ourselves.

"Did you hear?" he asked, slapping me on the shoulder.

I pulled my eyes away from the figure behind the closed passenger window. "Hear what?"

"The promotion. It's the same position, really, but the DROP team's being overseen by the mayor's office now."

"I saw you on TV."

He nodded. "I'm a fighter of corruption now. The misconduct was so isolated, it doesn't even make the police look bad. Sergeant Garcia was the only cop arrested. That bastard was basically a fixer for the commissioner. The fallout is hitting the business and political worlds harder. Rudi resigned and will be facing charges. Other businesses are under the microscope." The lieutenant puffed his chest out and managed a rare smile. For the first time he wasn't wearing his guns. The sunglasses had stayed, of course.

It was good to see my friend on the right side of things. He'd been under fire—vampire coercion, political plays, investment fraud—but Evan had dodged every bullet. I believed it was because he was a man of principle. Sure, political realities often compromised those principles, but in the end he did what was right. I was proud of him.

A sneaky little thought whispered that Evan had only used the evidence to curry favor for himself, but I shut that cynical poison down hard. I now admitted that I had to trust
some
people in this world. The least I could do was give them the benefit of the doubt until they proved otherwise.

We traded small talk for a while, but it was obvious my friend was just stalling.

"So," I started, glancing at the SUV again. "I know I'm not really free and clear of the law, but with Rudi out of the way, I'm no longer Public Enemy Number One."

Evan grinned. "No one's searching for you, Cisco. The fiascos at City Hall and the commissioner's house are being chalked up to drug disputes within Rudi's circle. He might try for a deal, but he doesn't have anyone to give up, much less you. I think you're safe walking the streets of Miami again."

I nodded away the details. "That's what I'm getting at. We had a deal: Put this manhunt behind us, and I get to meet Fran. That's why you're here now. That's why we're meeting in a playground. Except Emily and Fran haven't gotten out of the car."

His face lost all joviality. "Fran's not in the car, Cisco."

"What?"

"She's in school."

"I thought we agreed this was important enough—"

"Emily is livid with you," he blurted out, kicking at a divot in the grass. He put his hands on his hips and looked into the distance with a sigh. "She can't forgive you for killing Kita."

I'd been through it before with them. They knew about the pull of spellcraft. The heartstone. They knew how and why things went down. Instead of entering the same fray, I let the steam escape my lips and said, "That's still my daughter living in your house."

Evan bit down and removed his sunglasses. "Time, then. Give her more time. That's all I ask."

I watched the grass blow in the distance. "Haven't I given enough of that?"

After a few moments of silence, Evan set his jaw. "Time, then." He nodded lightly to reassure himself, flicked his sunglasses on, and hurried to the car.

I know I have a habit of making things worse, but I followed.

Emily saw me at the sidewalk and turned her head away. I banged on the glass just as Evan closed his door. He looked up and shook his head in disappointment.

I banged again. Emily didn't move but my friend lowered the passenger window halfway.

Emily had been crying. Again. I was a reminder of everything messed up in her life, even what wasn't my fault. But I was also a reminder of the good. What was Fran if not that?

"I want you to know the Covey's done," I told her. Even though she didn't look, she was listening to me. "Disbanded for good. You're one of the lucky ones with a second chance. As long as we're alive, we all have another chance."

She wiped her eyes but didn't respond. I couldn't see into her heart, but I knew she wasn't mine anymore. This was about something more. Evan fought off a bitter frown and started the car.

"Also," I said, giving them pause. "I want you to know, Emily, that I forgive you for everything that happened, just as I hope you can forgive me one day. Everything you took part in—the lies, the plots, the killing—none of it was you."

She sniffled and studied her hands. "You don't know who I am," she said softly. Emily nodded to her husband and they drove away.

I frowned. Emily was wrong. Our life together may have been a lie, but I knew exactly who she was.

She was an animist. A weapon of light, designed against me, aimed specifically at my weakness. But she was more than that too. Stronger. At some point she had fought back. Resisted. Relegated herself to a passive role in the Covey. That proved there was good inside her. She would see that too, one day. As Evan said, it was only a matter of time.

Time.

The playground was empty, as it had been before they met me. It seemed peaceful then. Now when I looked around, I was unsettled. This life—this
dream
—it was so far away. Unattainable.

I scuffed my alligator boot on the sidewalk, settled my heart, and jumped in my truck.

The Everglades was peaceful today. I wasn't bothered by the bumps in the path or the mosquitoes nipping at me. My animal spies reported no strange activity. My arm was healing up nicely except for marked stiffness and what was sure to be a scar cutting through the Nordic tattoo. As I returned to my dank hideaway in the middle of the day, I wanted nothing more than to curl up on my bedroll and sleep for a week.

A skeletal apparition in Spanish armor coalesced. His burning red eyes glowed with hunger.

"What news?" he asked.

"The commissioner's screwed. The police arrested the sergeant. I'll let the detectives clean up whatever dots they connect."

The skull nodded. "And the elemental?"

"I don't care about him. Connor's the only one I want."

An impatient hiss escaped the spirit's being. His eyes flared. "Our
bargain
covers full justice for your family. The vampire is dead. The Covey is broken. Every strike of your sword adds to the list of enemies. This is a deeper web than we agreed upon, brujo. It is too complicated for my tastes."

I met his gaze. "On the contrary, everything is much simpler now. The gangbangers and businessmen, the police and the Covey and the ghosts, they were all cogs in the greater machine. Henchmen. All of that was noise. Now I have a laser focus on the jinn. Help me take him down, and you're free."

The wraith drew his head up, considered the terms, then vanished.

 

 

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Heart Strings
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