Over My Head (Wildlings) (31 page)

"Marina and Chaingang hooking up?" Des says. "No. Way."

I tap my temple. "The system doesn't lie."

"And since when do you say 'auras'?" He waits a beat, then adds, "Are you okay with this, dude?"

Actually, I do have a weird twinge in my stomach, but I decide to ignore it.

"Why would I have a problem?" I say.

"Well, it's Marina. And Chaingang's brother runs the Ocean Avers. Do you really want Marina mixed up in that?"

"They're both friends of mine," I say. "I'm—I'm happy for them."

"Dude! Did you not hear what I said? I don't care how much you like Chaingang, he's still all heavy into drugs and guns and who knows what kind of crap."

"I know," I say, but I'm only half-listening to him.

My radar lets me watch the bike pulling into the parking lot, Chaingang and Marina getting off. When they stay in the lot, I realize that Chaingang's checking things out for an ambush. I do another sweep myself. Still nothing. Finally they start climbing up to the headland where we're headed.

"We have a meeting to attend to," Tomás says.

I nod. "I haven't forgotten. We're just going to wait on my friends. Safety in numbers, right?"

"Safety from what?"

"You tell me."

"We aren't the enemy," Tomás says.

"That's easy to say—harder to prove. You go on ahead. We'll catch up to you when Chaingang and Marina get here."

"No, I'll wait with you."

"Suit yourself."

I turn away and start climbing again, angling my ascent so that we meet up with Chaingang and Marina before they reach the top. They're holding hands, but let go when they see us. I lift my eyebrows and meet Chaingang's gaze. I don't know what he's looking for—a challenge? approval?—but after a moment he takes Marina's hand again. In his free hand he's carrying a tire iron.

"Hey," I say.

Marina's searching my face as well with a worried, guilty look.

"Really?" I say. "What makes you think I wouldn't be happy for you guys?"

I see her visibly relax. She returns my smile, then looks to Des, who shrugs.

"Whatever, dude," he says. "Just don't start dealing drugs or beating me up."

"Asshole," she says and we laugh.

Even Chaingang cracks a smile. But then he points his tire iron at Tomás.

"What the hell are
you
doing here?" he says.

"What's wrong with you kids?" Tomás says. "Can't you see we're just trying to help you?"

"Yeah, you were a big help the last time we got together. Tell me, did
you
pick this spot for us to meet?"

He shakes his head. "Señora Catalina thought it best that we get together away from prying eyes. Why do you ask?"

Chaingang shrugs. "No reason. Let's go see what she's got to say."

He gives me a nod and I lead the rest of the way to the top.

As soon as I crest the headland, I stop dead in my tracks, caught by the wonder of the last of the sun going down on the Pacific horizon. I don't often get to see it so far from Santa Feliz's light pollution, so I forget just how killer the sunsets are around here.

"You were right," Des says. "There's just the two of them up here."

I tear my gaze away from the horizon to focus on the pair waiting for us.

Auntie Min's pretty much what I expected from Des and Marina's descriptions of her. She's an old Indian woman with sloped shoulders. Her skin is brown and her black hair hangs in a long single braid upon her red shawl. Her face is broad, nose flat, eyes dark and wide-set. Under the shawl, she wears a white blouse, and a blue cotton skirt that falls to the ground, hiding her feet.

I head for where she and Cory are standing, my companions trailing along behind me as we walk through the tall grass to the big flat outcrop where they're waiting for us. I hear the waves crashing on the rocks below. The air's thick with the smell of salt and beach debris. When I get close, Auntie Min puts her hands together like she's about to pray and smiles at me.

"Welcome, young lion," she says. "I am Señora Catalina Mariposa, of the Black Witch Moth Clan. It is my great pleasure to meet you."

"I thought your name was Auntie Min."

She shrugs. "Some of us have more than one. We gather names through the years the way a cholla attaches itself to the unwary."

I hold up a hand before she can go on.

"I'm sure you're a perfectly nice person," I tell her, "and I mean no disrespect, but you need to know that I didn't really want to come here. And I'm not interested in flowery language or vague explanations. If we're going to do this, you need to talk straight or I'm gone."

"Easy there, Josh," Cory says. "Show a little—"

But Auntie Min cuts him off.

"It's all right," she says. "Josh has merely stated his wishes and he has done so without rudeness. I appreciate his honesty. I'm glad you all could come," she adds, welcoming the others.

"Why'd you pick this spot?" Chaingang asks.

If she's noticed the tire iron dangling from his hand, she makes no mention of it.

"This was a sacred place in the long ago," she tells him, "and it still holds echoes of that time. The veils are thinner here. If you listen closely, sometimes you can hear the waves of the otherworld harmonize with those that break against the rocks below."

Tomás makes a protesting noise and Auntie Min turns to him.

"What?" she asks.

"We aren't all cousins here."

"True," she says. "But Desmond is Josh's blood brother. They will have no secrets from each other." She looks at me with a smile. "Is that not so?"

I nod. "Yeah, Des is cool."

Des grins and punches me lightly on the shoulder.

Auntie Min returns her attention to Chaingang. "Why are you so uncomfortable in this place?"

"Vincenzo killed Lenny here," Chaingang tells her. He points with the tire iron. "Down there—on the beach."

The easy friendliness of her features goes hard.

"You're sure it was him?"

"I know the face of the guy who did it. Donalita confirmed his name for me."

"Who's Vincenzo?" I ask.

Chaingang turns to me. "One of the older cousins. He wants me to kill you. If I don't, he'll start getting rid of the people I care about the most, starting with my grandmother. You saw him outside the taquería earlier today."

"The homeless guy? And he's still in one piece?"

"Believe me, I tried. I couldn't lay a hand on him."

"And you're only telling me this
now
?"

He shrugs. "Maybe it was a bad call, bro. But I didn't want you going off half-cocked and have him take you out. The smart thing seemed to be to get some background first—see what his weaknesses are, figure out how to take him down without any collateral damage. Are you feeling me?"

I look at Marina.

"Yeah, she knew," Chaingang says before she can speak. "It's on me that she didn't tell you. She wanted to."

They're both watching me now, waiting. Marina is hugging herself, clearly anxious—probably because of what happened the last time she kept a big secret from me. I can't read Chaingang's expression.

I think about the past couple of days. How I've been right in everybody's face as soon as I felt threatened. I suppose I should feel shocked with this news, but the truth is, I'm exhausted. At this point, it would be unusual if someone out there
didn't
want to kill or use me.

"You made the right call," I tell them. "I've had enough on my plate."

"So we're good?" Chaingang asks.

I nod and offer him my fist. He gives it a bump.

"I find this very troubling," Auntie Min says. "Vincenzo threatened your family?"

Chaingang nods.

"What can he possibly expect to gain by this?" she says. "Josh is our hope for going into the future."

I want to interject here, but Chaingang responds before I can.

"I think he figures that with Josh gone things can get back to how they were before we Wildlings starting showing up. He made it clear he wanted Josh's death to look like it had been done by a human—maybe that's so he doesn't get any blowback from the other older cousins—but I'm pretty sure he plans to kill off the rest of the Wildlings himself."

"That doesn't make any sense," Auntie Min says.

Chaingang shrugs. "All I know is he's hardcore. He's super pissed off that Wildlings even exist and that they're not keeping a low enough profile. Donalita told me that he killed her sister just because she brought a human over to that otherworld. I guess he figures if there aren't any more Wildlings, all of this will just fade away. You know, like an urban legend. Never real in the first place."

Auntie Min shakes her head and turns to Tomás. "Is Vincenzo capable of this?"

"Why not? He's Condor Clan. All the carrion eaters thrive on chaos—they eat better in times of war."

"Hey!" Cory says.

"Present company excluded," Tomás adds, but it's easy to tell he doesn't mean it.

Auntie Min looks pointedly at him. "You might remember, Tomás, that the carrion eaters are an essential part of the cycle of life."

"Sure. But that doesn't mean I have to like—"

Auntie Min cuts him off. "Perhaps you should be having this conversation with Raven."

That shuts Tomás up, but I don't know why.

"Who's Raven?" I ask.

"He was here before the world was made," Cory says. "Back then, there was only Raven and a couple of crows hanging around until he stirred the world into being out of that big old cauldron of his."

"Yeah, right," Chaingang says.

He looks at me and rolls his eyes.

I get it. Things are strange enough without buying into the idea that the whole world came into being because some raven was brewing stuff up in a pot. So much for them dropping the flowery talk.

"Is this war?" Auntie Min asks, bringing everything back to the here and now.

Tomás shrugs.

"It is, so far as I'm concerned," Chaingang says.

Auntie Min turns to him. "I need to hear everything that has happened—from the beginning."

She's an old woman, but she seems to just float as she gracefully settles down into a half-lotus. Her gaze stays on Chaingang, expectant, until we all sit down and tell her what we know.

It takes a while. When it's my turn, I don't hold anything back. If I'm going to figure out why this is happening to me, I have to give them all the information I've got. When I get to the part about meeting the uncles in the skatepark, and the internal radar system in my head, Auntie Min and Cory study me with renewed interest. Tomás looks away, a sour look on his face. But no one says anything. They just let me continue.

After talking about the park, and how a hawk stopped me from following the guy I now know was Vincenzo, I start to run out of steam. I let Des pick the story up. He tells the part about the sniper attack, talking to the FBI, the weird business with pheromones, and getting here.

As Des is finishing his part of the story, I notice that Chaingang keeps looking around like he still thinks it's a trap.

"It's cool," I tell him softly, so as not to interrupt Des. "There's no one around who shouldn't be."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. This GPS thing in my head's pretty damn accurate. I knew you two were coming long before you pulled into the parking lot."

"What kind of range do you have?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. It feels like it could go on forever if I don't keep a lid on it."

"What did you say?" Auntie Min asks.

Everybody's looking at me.

I repeat what I just told Chaingang.

"This changes everything," Auntie Min says.

I don't like the sound of that.

"Changes everything how?" I ask.

For a moment it seems as though a big black moth fills the air behind her. Her skin seems to glow and grow tight, as though it's too small to contain her. Then the moment passes and she's just an old Indian woman again, though she's still got that big-time Wildling vibe.

"I thought the Thunders had sent you to take my place," she says. "But now I see they have larger plans for you."

Crap. Could this get any worse?

"The Thunders?" I repeat slowly, looking at Chaingang and Marina, then back to the older cousins. This is so not computing. "What does that even mean? I asked you to talk straight with me."

"I am," Auntie Min says. "You understand that everything's connected?"

 "In theory, I guess. But how does any of this relate to what's happening to me?"

"We are all here as caretakers," she says. "We are here to look after each other and the land upon which we live. As individuals, we care for those directly around us and the acres upon which we tread. But some of us have more responsibilities. Tomás and I—and others like us—look after the well-being of
all
the individuals and all of the land under our protection. We are given to see a larger picture. The canvas upon which we do our work is broader than it is for others. And the Thunders—the great spirits—they look after us all."

"You say you're looking after the land," Chaingang says while I'm trying to digest all of this. "So why are there buildings and streets and pavement and crap everywhere?"

"The land is still there—underneath. The earth spirits are patient. They know that what the humans lay upon them will all pass away in time."

Chaingang shakes his head. "So you do—what, nothing? Just sit back and watch?"

"I remember them," Auntie Min says. "I talk to them. Sing them their songs. Tell them their histories. I let them know that they are not forgotten and remind them that the time will come again when they will be freed of the burden they carry now."

"And you're doing a good job of that?" Chaingang asks.

"I do my best. I have been the caretaker of this land for longer than even I can remember," she says. "But I grow old. My stamina is not what it was. And I'm beginning to forget the stories—the histories of the spirits under my care. I believed that was why the young lion has been sent. To replace me."

I want to puke. This was so not my life plan. I get this insane mental image of strapping on my guitar, turning my amp up to full volume and wailing out my frustration through music. But playing guitar seems like a distant memory now.