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Authors: Rosemary Clement-Moore

Highway to Hell (35 page)

BOOK: Highway to Hell
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Hector and Zeke eased the matriarch to a seat on the stone bench; her face was ashen beneath her caramel skin. Grabbing a bottle of water from my backpack, I hurried to her side.

“Here, Doña Isabel. Drink this.” I suspected that only her own iron will was keeping her upright. “Lisa, there are some smelling salts in that first-aid kit.”

She dug in her own duffel instead. “I've got something better.”

“No, no.” Doña Isabel waved a weak hand. “I need nothing.”

Lisa handed a small bottle to Zeke, who held it to his grandmother's pale lips. “Drink up, Abuelita. It'll help.”

She did, thanks to Zeke, and grimaced at the taste. Immediately, color returned to her cheeks and her sagging shoulders straightened. Brushing the iron-gray hair from her face, she stared at Lisa with dignified disapproval. “Sorcery.”

Holding the bottle, label out, Lisa responded, “B-twelve, sugar, and caffeine. I don't mess with what works.”

Doña Isabel cleared her throat and glared at Hector, whose smothered smile creased his long face with humor. “Yes. Well. I feel better now. We can proceed.”

Hector's levity vanished, and we exchanged glances—him and Lisa and me. “Isabel, the rest is for the youngsters to do.”

“No.” She placed her hands on her knees, as regal as a queen. “It is my responsibility. I was too stubborn and frightened to see before. I denied my own failings. But now I will make it right.”

Lightning and thunder, like the heavens themselves were agreeing. In the eerie silence that followed, there was a low pop, and then a hissing rush of air. I looked at Justin in alarm. “What was that?”

He shaded his eyes from the headlights and peered into the darkness. “Something just punctured a tire on the Jeep.”

Henry picked up the other branding iron and joined him at the perimeter. “I didn't think they were that smart.”

Neither did I. Animal cunning was all I'd seen so far. But maybe the more of them were out here, the more of the hive mind was in play.

And the storm was about to break. “Lisa, get ready with the witch-fu. Guys, keep a lookout.”

“Everything's ready in my pack.” Even as she answered me, her eyes were on Zeke. “But we still need a Velasquez.”

He held her weighted gaze for a long moment, then knelt by Doña Isabel, his hand covering hers. “Abuelita. I don't see what else you can do. I don't understand half—a quarter—of what's going on, but if all it takes is the Velasquez bloodline, you have to let me help.”

She shook her head violently. “I will not leave it to you, Ezekiel. You are so young, and the sacrifice is too great.”

Hector laid his hand on Doña Isabel's shoulder. She tensed, but let it stay. “When your
abuela
took on the guardianship of the ranch, she linked herself with this place.

It meant she could never leave, never give it up, or the demon would be free.”

“It wasn't such a hardship,” she said. “I love this land. My blood runs through it like the oil under the ground. But your aunt and uncle, they wanted to sell shares in the ranch, and hire a company to manage the land and the cattle. When I wouldn't agree, they left to build their lives elsewhere. And I stayed here.”

Zeke processed this quickly. “That's why they give you your chemotherapy here at the house. Why doctors have always made house calls. Because you really can't leave the property.”

“That,” she acknowledged with some dry humor, “and because I'm terribly rich. It isn't all torture.”

“But you've never been to any of my cousin's weddings, haven't seen half your grandchildren.” Zeke's face was anguished in the firelight. “Why not just tell me?”

“I never regretted my decision,” she answered. “But I want you to have every option open to you.”

There was a simultaneous clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, and a fat raindrop hit the ground, an advance party for the deluge. “The only problem is, here and now, we're running out of options,” I said.

Doña Isabel wrapped her hand around Hector's arm and used him to stand. “I'm ready.”

Man, I hated to be the one to break bad news.
“Señora
, the reason the demon was able to get free—I think it's because of your illness.”

Lisa wasted no time on sugarcoating. “What Mags is saying, Doña Isabel, is that the only thing you have left to sacrifice is your life. If you do this, you'll die.”

Even Doña Isabel blinked at Lisa's bold-faced statement, but she recovered quickly. Zeke stood up, protesting. “Oh no. That's not going to happen.”

She quickly regained her resolve. “I'm already dying, Ezekiel.”

“You're under treatment,” he countered.

Lisa added, “If the sacrifice kills you, Doña Isabel, it might seal the demon away permanently, or it might be free as soon as you're gone. I don't know.”

“It doesn't matter.” Zeke put himself physically between his grandmother and Lisa. “What do I have to do? Pledge to stay here forever? No problem.”

“If you take this on,” Lisa warned, “you will never be able to leave. Not a toe off the Velasquez property. No dates, no Spurs games, no movies until they come out on DVD.”

Their gazes locked, and a whole conversation seemed to pass between them. I remembered the way he'd held on to her when we found him fighting off the demons in the pasture. He definitely knew what he was giving up.

“I have the whole county,” he said. “That's more freedom than a lot of people have.”

“Okay.” Lisa dropped her folded arms and grabbed her heavy satchel from the ground. “Let's go.”

“Wait a sec.” I put up my hand as she headed to the edge of the circle. “Where are we going?”

“Zeke and I have got to reach the wellhead with the oil seep. Otherwise I won't be able to reel the chupies back in.”

I looked at Hector. He didn't deny this, so I tried a new angle. “Magic is representation, right? What if we had
something to
represent
the wellhead? Like … paint off the pipe fitting or something. Would that work?”

Lisa considered the question. “Maybe. But it would still mean that someone has to go out there.”

Another fat raindrop splashed my hand, and more splattered into the dirt. Sassy, tied safely to her tree inside the circle, whinnied and shook herself. “Guys,” Justin called, warning me about the rain. “It's about to be a moot point.”

I made my argument quickly. “Out in the truck, headlights on, driving fast. Then back to the safety of the grotto for the actual working.”

“Fine, but who's going to—?”

Lisa's question went unfinished as the sky broke open with a flash and a crack and the heavens poured down on us. The campfire hissed and the candles fizzled, and the darkness around us lit with ravenous red eyes.

30

T
he candles guttered and went out. The chupacabras surrounded us, their eyes like a string of unblinking Christmas lights. Justin and Henry backed toward the campfire, weapons at the ready.

Sassy whinnied and danced, pulling at the branch where she was tied. I ran to get her, the raindrops like little hammers, slapping my skin and soaking my hair.

Zeke shouted over the rain. “Hector, get my grandmother to the truck and stay with her.”

Hector took the woman's arm, but Doña Isabel pulled away haughtily. “No. I'm still the guardian here. If it is all I
can do, then I will pray.” She walked to the shrine, where the headlights of the truck illuminated Mary like a halo.

He redirected her over her protests. “God can hear you just as well from the car, Isabel.”

Zeke made sure they were safe, then turned to Lisa. “Can we do this thing here in the light from the truck?”

She wiped the rain out of her face. “Yes. Henry, grab that bag of salt and make a circle around us. A thin line will wash away, so the circle will have to be small.”

Nodding his understanding, he hefted the bag and poured out the crystals into a line thick enough to hold, now that the first torrent had abated to a steady shower. That meant there wasn't enough salt to make a big circle. Just enough to encompass the fire and the bench where Lisa was setting up the accoutrements for the spell: a brass bowl like a cauldron, a couple of bottles, silk cord, various herbs—

A demon, low like a greyhound, shot into the clearing, straight at Henry, as if to stop him from finishing his task. Sassy yanked the reins out of my hand and leapt forward. She came down on the monster with both her front hooves, stomping it into a greasy black pulp.

I grabbed a handful of salt from the stream Henry was pouring and ran to obliterate anything left of the demon. “Maggie!” called Justin. “Stay in the light.”

A second monster flew out of the darkness like a bat-winged harpy, its talons reaching for me. Justin swung the branding iron, tearing the creature's membranous wing. It fell, flailing, to the ground and he pinned it through the neck with a sizzle.

It wasn't as neat as the chupy he'd pierced through the
heart, but it got the job done. I salted it, too, just to stop the sounds it made.

“They're getting stronger.” Justin wiped his face with his sleeve. “And smarter.”

Sassy snorted a warning to any chupacabras that might infringe on her patrol. I caught her reins and praised her, stroking the strong column of her neck, and she pushed her nose against my shoulder.

After that, my next action seemed inevitable. Someone had to get to the wellhead and back. The Jeep had a flat tire, and the pickup truck's headlights were the only defense besides the guys with the branding irons.

“I hope you're up for another run,” I whispered.

Lisa held Henry off from closing the circle, and looked at me expectantly. “I'm going to go get your missing ingredient,” I said. “You have what you need to begin the binding, right?”

She started to speak, then stopped, searching for alternatives to my plan and finding none. “It doesn't have to be big,” she finally said. “Any piece can make the connection.”

Justin saw the horse's reins in my hand, and realized what I meant to do. “No way, Maggie.”

Zeke's protest was more confused. “You said you'd never ridden before yesterday.”

Neglecting his sentry duty, Justin caught my hand tightly in his. “I'll go. Or Henry. Either one of us.”

“Why? Because you're the boys?”

“Because you've been on a horse only once before!”

This was a sensible argument, but when he reached
for the mare's reins, she bared her teeth at him and danced away. Henry tried to catch her, but she tossed her head at him, too. I clicked my tongue, and she came trotting right to me.

“This is crazy.” Justin wasn't talking about the horse's behavior. In frustration he turned to his friend. “Henry, help me out here.”

Henry shook his head. “I'm sold. It's got to be Maggie the horse whisperer.”

Grabbing me around the waist, Henry tossed me up onto Sassy's back like I weighed nothing. Then he slipped the leather strap of his branding iron onto my wrist and showed me how to hold it like a polo mallet. “Backswing and follow through. Keep a smooth arc. You'll have more power swinging forward than backward.”

“Fix the stirrups,” said Zeke. “You don't want her sliding off.”

Henry held the horse's bridle while Justin, jaw set in a tense line, shortened one stirrup, then the other. I watched him, studying the strong line of his neck, the taut muscle where it met his shoulder. “I have to do this, Justin.”

He looked up at me, some of the anger running out of him. “I know you do. Or else I'd sit on you to keep you from going.”

I smiled, because he totally would, too. “Don't worry. I'm brilliant and resourceful, remember?”

“And insane.”

“That, too.”

He stood by Sassy's shoulder. When I leaned forward to get the reins, he caught my sleeve and held me there, close enough that his breath warmed my cheek as his eyes searched
mine. I don't know what he found in my gaze, but I saw all kinds of things in his. His fear for me was fierce, and so was the other thing I saw, the thing we hadn't said yet, but somehow didn't really need to.

“I'll see you when you get back,” he said. Then he kissed me, not long enough to be ridiculous, given our dire straits, but so intensely that my head spun, and I had to grab on to the saddle horn or fall off the horse before I ever got started.

He stepped back and I sat up, just a little dazed. Now I had to live through this so we could do that again, without the horse in the way.

Sassy stamped her foot, ready to be off. Handing me the reins that I'd dropped while I was distracted, Henry put a hand on my knee and whispered something suspiciously like a benediction.

“I thought you weren't a priest yet,” I said.

He looked up at me, his expression wry. “Anyone can pray, Maggie. You might keep that in mind.”

Zeke watched me, his hands on his hips. “Whatever you did when we were riding the other day. Do that again.”

“Okay.” I met Lisa's eye. “Start the spell.”

I heard the scream of a chupacabra, and Henry whirled, ready to fight it. I kicked my heels against Sassy's flanks and she surged forward. It probably didn't inspire a lot of confidence the way I had to grab at the pommel to keep from tumbling backward over her butt.

So much for my badass cowgirl exit.

BOOK: Highway to Hell
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