Relic (15 page)

My face was hot, my fists so tight I could barely feel any blood flowing through them. “I’m not going to be any kind of whore.”

“Sure,” he said, smirking. “Speaking of which, what the hell are you doing here? Get on back to the Hacienda. Álvar must be looking for you.” His brow arched up suggestively, and once again I had to restrain myself from lashing out at him. Grinding my teeth, I turned away.

But then a threat trembled inside of me along with the rage. I shot a look over my shoulder. “You’re not the only one with the ear of Álvar Castilla now. If I were you, I’d be a little more careful how you treated me.”

Exhilarated and mildly shocked by my own boldness, I started to walk away. But Mr. Connelly grabbed my arm and spun me around hard. His face was even redder in his rage.

“Why, you little…” He clenched his jaw, trying to calm his breath, and released his grip. I backed away, my heart pounding in my chest.

Mr. Connelly pointed a tense finger. “I’m onto you. Oh, yes, ma’am, I am. You think you’re pretty smart. You think you can play Castilla for a fool.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you’ve been messin’ around with that cowboy.”

I froze, and a satisfied smile crossed Connelly’s face. “And we can’t have that, now can we? Protégée or conquest, either way, you’re accepting a meal ticket from Álvar Castilla, and so you have to play by his rules.”

“We’re just friends,” I said, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be.

“Not anymore, you ain’t. I don’t want to see you so much as breathe near that buck. And I’ve got eyes everywhere, so don’t think your being up there at the Hacienda will hide it. I’m gonna be watching like a hawk. Waiting for you to slip up, ’cause I know you will. And when you do…” He snapped his fingers once. “Just like that, you’ll be mine.”

Chapter Nineteen

My heart quivered as I reentered the Hacienda. It took me half the day to work up the courage to go back. If Ella hadn’t been there, I probably wouldn’t have gone at all. With trembling legs, I stepped out of the carriage in the main courtyard.

A neatly dressed maid waited for me, her hands folded primly in front. “Señorita,” she said, curtsying.

“Maggie. Just call me Maggie.”

Her eyes shifted at the suggestion, but she said nothing of it. “I am to show you to your new quarters, if it pleases you.”

A warning shot off in my heart. “New quarters?”

“Why yes, miss. Señor Castilla has requested you be moved to one of the larger suites in the Hacienda.”

“Where’s my sister?” I asked, trying to appear calm. “I’d like to see my sister.”

“I would assume she’s in your suite.”

She turned without any further explanation and headed toward the grand, gleaming spectacle of the main house. I’d hoped for a more discreet entrance, but the Hacienda grounds bustled with people and life.

Servants came and went, carrying baskets of clean laundry, bundles of dried chili peppers, and bolts of expensive green silks. To my right, three stable workers trained a shining black mare in the corral, calling orders to her in Spanish as they led her over a wooden jump. From her speed and the spectacular height of her leaps, I reckoned she was a sky steed, a rare equine breed descended from the ancient Pegasus. They were rare and very expensive, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that Álvar owned one.

A group of well-dressed Haciendos watched the progress of the sky steed and discussed intently. The Haciendellas accompanying them stood chatting in the shade of the massive oak, their colorful parasols spread for decorative purposes only.

I followed close behind the maid, keenly aware of all the watchful eyes. But no one seemed shocked at my presence. Word had probably gotten around. The knowledge made my stomach churn.

My new quarters were located on the far west side of the house, tucked into the end of a long maze of carpeted hallways. The gaudy suite was lit with ornate glass lanterns and wide windows draped in airy curtains. Real wallpaper hung on the walls, with dark wood paneling. A silk comforter was flung lavishly over the bed, and a fresh bouquet of roses waited in a vase on the vanity.

“Are the accommodations satisfactory to you, miss?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, dazed. I stepped into the room, looking around. “What about my sister?”

“Here is where she will sleep,” the maid said, motioning to a doorway toward the back of the suite. “This room was originally designed for the ill or elderly. That connected sleeping room could be used for a nurse to be in close proximity. The señor thought it would be pleasing for you to have your sister as close as possible.”

“Yes,” I said, surprised at his thoughtfulness. “That’s perfect.” I looked into the little room, but it was empty. “Where’s Ella?”

“I am not sure, miss. Perhaps with the nurses?” The maid curtsied again. “I am to help you dress now.”

I glanced down at my maroon work frock from The Desert Rose. “I’m already dressed.”

The maid’s eyes flicked to the massive armoire wardrobe that stood in the corner of the room. Hesitant, I moved toward it. The doors, made of glossy, polished cherry wood, swung open smoothly. As the light fell on the inside, I gasped.

Dresses. At least two dozen of them. They hung in a thick row inside the wardrobe like an expensive rainbow. Rich fabrics and ribbons and lace in every color imaginable. Bewildered, I pulled one down. It was black velvet with white satin ribbons and intricate beading. The neckline scooped deep, trimmed with thin lace. I held the gown up to me. It was my size.

“Señor Castilla wishes to see his guests dressed in only the finest, miss.”

I shut the doors of the wardrobe, Mr. Connelly’s mocking words ringing in my ears. Gritting my teeth, I pulled open every drawer of the bureau. Each one overflowed with fine handkerchiefs and pristine lace underclothes.

Then came the nightclothes drawer. It was filled with expensive sleeping gowns, every single one of which had wide necks and thin, see-through fabrics. A velvet-trimmed robe in deep red lay folded at the bottom.

I pushed the drawer shut. “I will wear what I have on, thank you. Please send for my sister
at once
.”

The maid studied me for the briefest of moments, then curtsied. “As you wish.”

When she’d gone, I flopped onto the bed, distraught. I couldn’t accept that I had become Álvar’s mistress. Maybe I
had
been a fool to believe all his talk about talents and training with relics. But on the other hand, it seemed ridiculous to believe otherwise. That someone as wealthy and charming as Álvar would go to lengths to seduce a no-name like me.

I think I just
wanted
it to be true. So very badly. I thought of what he offered—the relics, the training I’d always dreamed of—and my heart ached.

At that moment, Ella burst in the door, her cheeks flushed from running. She was dressed in a pristine pink frock, with her blond hair curled in ringlets like a china doll. She looked beautiful. And happy.

A smile lit her face when she saw me. “Maggie!” She ran up and spun around in a twirl, as if to display her pretty new dress. “Isn’t this the greatest place?”

I laughed. “Are you having a good time?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “We’re playin’ Blind Basilisk.” Acting out the game for me, she ran in a circle with her eyes closed and her arms outstretched. “I’m the best at it, but this boy named Alfonso is pretty good, too.”

“It’s real nice that they’re taking care of you like that.”

Ella nodded. “It’s much better than that stuffy old mission. I want to stay here forever.”

My heart sank a little. I looked at my hands, trying to find the words. “Ella…”

She kept playing out her game of Blind Basilisk. “Yeah?”

“Ella, baby, I’m not sure we’re going to stay here much longer.”

Her eyes shot open. “What?”

“We need to be careful about what we accept from these people. I know it might be hard for you to understand.”

“No!” she said, frantic. “We can’t go! You can’t make me!”

“Try to be reasonable—”

“No,
you
try!” Tears sprang to Ella’s eyes. She flew to my side and grabbed my arm, squeezing it to her. “Please don’t make me go back to the mission, Maggie.
Please
.”

I felt like I’d been kicked in the heart. “Oh, Ella.”

“I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do anything you say. Just please,
please
don’t make me go back.”

I couldn’t bear the sight of her like this. Taking her into my arms, I stroked her head and shushed her softly. “Don’t cry, baby girl. Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t go back,” she sobbed. “I hate it there. I’ll never be happy if we go back. I’d rather die.”

I squeezed her tightly. “Don’t even speak of such things!” I closed my eyes, exhaling in defeat. “If it means that much to you, we’ll stay.”

Ella looked up at me, wiping her eyes. “Promise?”

I nodded. I couldn’t say no. For the first time since I took Jeb away from her, I felt like I’d actually made her happy, bringing her here. Besides, until I’d figured out for sure what Álvar’s intentions were, we might as well stay anyway. No sense leaving what could be the best thing that happened to both of us just because a lowlife like Connelly tried to scare me.

But when two days passed without the slightest whiff of training, the pit in my stomach returned. The first day, after a quiet breakfast with Ella in our room, the maid, Esperanza, came to help me dress. She called the cream taffeta gown with luxurious bustle and black lace trim a “day dress,” even though it was fancier than anything I’d ever owned back on the farm.

Señora Duarte, the Hacienda’s school mistress, came to collect Ella, who offered me a quick, guilty hug before running off with her. Then, dressed up in my borrowed finery, I followed Esperanza to the sitting room, where the Haciendellas were playing Liar’s Dice. But when no one had spoken to me for two hours, I slipped out to wander the halls alone. It felt strange not to have an endless list of chores to do. Before that moment, I’d had no idea how little rich folks actually did.

The second day was no better. I had been invited to an afternoon of croquet with a small party of the Hacienda’s other various guests, mostly wealthy businessmen and visiting Creole nobles from other states. The same pack of laughing, beautiful Haciendellas I’d seen at the ball joined them.

I missed Adelaide and Landon and Bobby, and I worried about what was happening with Yahn. I hadn’t come to the Hacienda to act like some spoiled princess with nothing to do but amuse herself. No, not a princess—according to Connelly, I was little better than a pampered courtesan.

Still, if Álvar’s intentions were to woo me, he had a mighty funny way of going about it. I hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of him yet. But I obviously hadn’t had a glimpse of a relic or a relic almanac yet, either. How was I to know what to expect? I decided I’d had enough fretting in darkness. I was going to do something about it.

After a quiet supper in our room that second night, Ella was whisked off to be bathed and put to bed. I tried to insist on doing the job myself, but the maids only looked at me blankly and carried on with their task. With no other excuse to drag my feet, I had Esperanza help me into one of the “fine” gowns that apparently pleased Álvar so much—a butter-yellow satin with delicate black velvet patterns of flowers. Feeling a little lightheaded, I made my way to the library. If Esperanza was right, he would be there having drinks with his other guests.

I was thrumming with nerves as I stepped into the room. Ceiling-high bookshelves lined the walls, and a marble-framed fireplace glowed with heat and flickering light. A group of men sat on the red velvet sofas in the center of the room, talking in low, stern voices. They all looked so old and serious, with Álvar at the center, so young and charming, that it seemed a mismatch. My eyes shot to Emerson Bolger beside him. He looked up, and his eyes narrowed.

But it was too late to turn back. Face-to-face with my benefactor
, the words I’d prepared caught in my throat.

“Why, Miss Davis, what a pleasure to see you.” Álvar stepped over and kissed my hand. “You look lovely this evening, as always.”

I felt the eyes of the other men on me, and my face flushed with heat. “I didn’t want to disturb your conversation. I only wondered if I might have a moment of your time.”

“But of course. Come, let us talk in the study.”

The men watched me as I followed Álvar to the connected study. I suddenly wished I hadn’t come.

“Please,” he said, motioning to a cushioned chair.

I obeyed, caught up in my own thoughts. Álvar sat across from me, his dark eyes searching my face. I felt childish and irrational. Foolish. This was a gentleman, surely, and the master of an expansive, busy household. The reason I hadn’t started any training certainly had more to do with his full schedule than his secret plans to make a mistress of me.

“You look distressed,” Álvar said. “Please, tell me what is on your mind.”

“I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. Thinking about it now, I feel rather silly.” I swallowed dryly. “I was simply wondering when I might begin with my training.”

I prepared for his offense at my impudence, but he only nodded.

“Of course. How ungentlemanly of me, Maggie. I have been so busy that I have left you to wonder and doubt.” He took my hand. “Please forgive my rudeness. Tomorrow morning I shall send for my finest relic expert to begin your training.”

I looked up. “Do you mean it?”

“It is why I asked you to stay here at my Hacienda, is it not?” he asked, smiling.

I blushed. “Yes, of course. Thank you. It will mean a great deal to me.”

He stroked his thumb once over the back of my hand, and for a moment, I caught the slightest glint of something behind his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite grasp. But then, quick as it had come, it vanished behind his smile.

Chapter Twenty

“What you are about to see, Maggie, only few in my entire household have ever laid eyes upon.”

Álvar, dressed casually in tan pants and a white shirt rolled up to the elbows, led me through a narrow corridor tucked in the back of the Hacienda. It was lit only with flickering lanterns, and was so shadowy and empty that a momentary pang of hesitation struck me. But curiosity pushed me on. I’d barely slept the night before, preoccupied by dreams of what I would see the next day. So I followed Álvar through the dim quiet of the hallway.

As we rounded the corner, a pulsing passed through me, parallel with my heartbeat, and my steps faltered a bit. That sound I’d heard in the relic refinery returned: a rushing of wind. Whispers—ancient, faint, and echoing.

“Maggie?”

Álvar waited for me a few steps ahead. I blinked and rushed up to join him. He gave me only the smallest curious look before leading me on.

A large doorway finally appeared ahead. Two guards stood at our arrival and saluted Álvar.

“
Está bien
,” he said. “Is my guest already in the vault?”

“
Sí
, señor,” one of the guards said, twisting the safe-like handle on the door.

“The relic vault,” Álvar said, setting his hand on the steel frame. His eyes shone slightly as he gazed into the room. “This is where I store my greatest treasures.”

My insides fluttered like a wild bird as I peered through the large, round doorway. It was a small room, almost barren on the inside, save a large wooden table in the middle. But I could see the rows of cases that lined the walls. My throat was dry with anticipation, my palms sweaty.

I spotted a man sitting on a small chair that had been brought in. Even from the back, I recognized him. “Moon John?”

He turned and offered me a small smile. “Miss Davis. Good morning.”

“I take it you know each other?” Álvar said. “How perfect.”

He motioned me into the vault. “I will leave you to it, then. Just tap for the guards to let you out when you’re through.”

He shot Moon John a glance, one so swift I was certain he intended for me to miss it. But I didn’t.

I stepped in, stiff with nerves. The door shut securely behind me with a little rush of wind, and the sensation seemed to pass through my heart. I didn’t move, but I allowed myself a swift glance at the cases that lined the walls. Perhaps it was only my imagination, though I could hear the whispers again, pulsating through the room.

Moon John reclined in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. He apparently heard nothing. “You look tense, Miss Davis. Do not be afraid. You won’t break anything.”

I took a slow breath. I had to calm down. The last thing I wanted to do was somehow ruin my chance at this opportunity by acting like a mad woman. I stepped farther into the room and even managed a weak smile.

“I had a feeling you would find your way to the Hacienda before long,” Moon John said. “Señor Castilla’s unicorn relic is an incredible piece.”

I nodded. “It surely is.”

“And how is your young sister?”

“She’s well. Thank you.”

Moon John nodded. “I apologize that my elixir could not help her.”

“That’s all right. It worked out in the end.”

Moon John nodded, but his smile looked strained. “Yes, I suppose it did.”

A silence settled. Moon John pressed his fingers together, deep in thought. “I imagine you must have many questions, Miss Davis.”

I edged deeper into the room. “Well, yes, sir, I do.”

“I imagine you are wondering why you are here. If it’s true that you have a special talent with relics. What that means.”

I nodded.

With his slight limp, Moon John moved slowly to the table in the center of the vault. I noticed the lumps under the burlap that had been draped over it, and my stomach tensed. I didn’t breathe as Moon John pulled away the cover.

Five relics lay beneath. Five pieces of antiquity. They had all been cut from the rough, fossilized skeletons into perfect, varied shapes and polished to bring out their brilliant colors. But none had been embedded into any kind of setting or device for use. They were solitary pieces of glistening bone, glorious in their simple power.

“Go ahead,” Moon John said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You can touch them.”

Every nerve in my body shivered as I set my fingertips to the nearest piece, a brilliant blue siren relic, sparkling with white iridescence. Only then did I release a shaky breath. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are. Castilla has quite the collection.”

I dared to take the siren relic into my hand. The blue shard was no bigger than my thumb, but it shone like a piece of the ocean on my palm and felt cool as a mountain stream. The sensation slid through my body like a current and slowed my racing pulse.

“You feel the calming effect?” Moon John asked.

I nodded, savoring it.

“The great generals and military leaders are known to carry water relics into battle to keep their hearts calm in the face of danger.”

Holding that siren piece, I could understand why. I stroked the smooth, cold surface, losing myself in the depth of its blue. As I did, a faint voice began to tone in my ears, haunting and beguiling. The voice of a siren calling to me.

I set the piece down, shooting Moon John a quick look, but he didn’t seem to have heard what I had. I knew those voices must mean something. The nagging feeling that I should tell Moon John about them tugged at me, but before I could decide, he spoke again, drawing me from my thoughts.

“And do you know what the siren magic accomplishes?”

“It gives the wielder influence over the minds of others,” I said. “Pulling their thoughts like a tide.”

When Moon John looked impressed, I shrugged a little. “Studying my papa’s relic almanac used to be something of a hobby of mine.”

Moon John smiled. “Good. And can you classify these by magic category?”

A thrill passed through me as I examined the pieces. I’d take any reason to stay close to them, to touch them. “This one’s water,” I said. “But that’s an easy one.” I ran my finger along the relics remaining on the table. “Looks like griffin relic here. That’s sky. I’m thinking this one is troll—earth. That’s dragon. Another easy one—fire. And…”

I went to lift the final relic, a pebble-sized piece as black as obsidian, into my hand. But as my fingertip touched it, a deep, angry breath cut through my mind. A stab of hunger reached into my chest, hot and lustful. Startled, I jerked my hand back as if the relic were red hot. I shot a look up to Moon John. “Is that what I think it is?” I asked, my pulse racing.

“Vampire,” Moon John confirmed matter-of-factly.

“Álvar has shadow relics?”

Moon John smiled a little. “As you become more familiar with this world, Miss Davis, you will come to see that the government’s ban on relics such as this one are merely a front to feed the ignorant masses an illusion of security. I’ve never met a relic expert west of the Mississippi who didn’t peddle a little vampire or banshee.”

It certainly didn’t comfort me any to hear that shadow relics were common. I loved magic, sure, but not magic that dealt out death or pain.

“It’s fitting that we be exposed to all the types of magic that exist in our world. There must be balance, as there always has been.” Moon John pulled a small globe-like device from the ground and set it on the table. A dark metal orb, about the size of a fist, hung suspended between the ends of an inverted metal arc. The surface was punctured with what looked like hundreds of tiny holes, and I could just make out the glint of something glittering inside.

“Tell me, Maggie. You are sixteen?”

“That’s right,” I said, still staring at the odd globe.

“Then you were born in the year of the unicorn. How fitting.”

“What do you mean?”

He drew a thin orange vial from his pocket. “I will show you,” he said, and he tipped the liquid into his mouth.

Closing his eyes, he pointed to the three lanterns hanging in the vault. The flames were snuffed out, leaving us in utter darkness. I tensed, but just as quickly, he set his hand on the globe, and it was illuminated. Pinpricks of light burst out, filling the room with infinite glowing specks.

“The stars,” Moon John said.

I exhaled with awe, turning slowly to take in the twinkling sight. It was as if Moon John had snatched the night sky and set it right there in the vault.

He stepped over to one cluster of light specks and traced his finger along a constellation. “This is
Zang Tu
, the unicorn. The first bringer of earth magic. Those born under her sign are often gifted with earth relics.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but if I looked hard enough, I could see the majestic white creature galloping across the sky, her horn gleaming like a spike of light. It was thrilling to learn the old legends of Moon John’s people. I didn’t know if they were true or just ancient stories passed down through generations, but it didn’t matter much. I relished every morsel. I’d have given anything to hear such stories as a girl. But with Mama so opposed to relics, all discussions remained limited to absolute necessity.

“Here is
Lóng
, the dragon,” Moon John went on, sliding his finger along the glittering clusters of light. “Here, the sign of the mermaid. And here,
Fenghuang
, the great bird, bringer of sky magic.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said softly.

“Indeed. In many ways, the stars are relics unto themselves. They teach us our history, our present, and our future, if we only care to learn.”

I wanted him to go on, but he set his hand back on the globe, and the stars vanished. With a
snap
, the lanterns relit. I blinked the brightness from my eyes, still seeing the constellations behind my closed lids.

“I suppose I should test you, as Castilla wishes,” Moon John said. “Though I think your birth in the year of the unicorn explains everything.”

“You
should
test me. Just to make sure.”

Moon John gave me a wry smile. “As you wish.” He motioned to the relics. “Shall we begin with the dragon bone?”

My fingers itched to snap the piece up, but I controlled myself.

“Go on, Maggie,” Moon John said. “See if you can produce a small flame here on this table.”

I plucked the smooth piece of opaque amber, about the size and shape of a walnut, into my palm. Instantly, a current of warmth spread up my arm and into my core. The heat flickered out across my chest, swarming like ornery bees. The sensation made my breath catch in my throat, and I staggered back a little.

“Fire relics have an agitating effect on the nerves,” Moon John said. “The feeling will subside.”

“I’ve never used one before,” I said, holding up the bright piece with trembling hands.

Moon John motioned to the table. “Try. Most can create at least a spark their first time.”

I curled my fingers around the relic. That darn antsy feeling made it hard to focus, but as I did, a faint growl, like a whispered roar, pierced the dull hum. The sound sent chills up my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut.

And the next thing I knew, an exploding burst filled the room.

I ripped my eyes open in time to see a flash of orange light—flames spraying across the little table. In an instant, every inch of it was ablaze. I gasped. Moon John jumped for me, pushing me away from the fire, but as we slammed against the vault wall, all I could think of were those beautiful relics, tucked away in their boxes on the shelves.

“We have to put it out!” I screamed.

“We can’t!”

I twisted away from his grip. I wouldn’t let the relics burn. My gaze fell to the burlap crumpled on the floor; it was the only chance. Grabbing it, I flung the thick cloth over the burning table. By this time, the vault door had swung open and the guards had run in, shouting in frantic Spanish.

The four of us jumped at the table, stamping out the flames furiously. And with all of us working together, the blaze was quickly smothered. Coughing at the smoke, we pulled back the burlap. Miraculously, the fire hadn’t had time to cause any great amount of damage. I spotted the five relics unscathed, and my heart leapt with relief. Before I could reach for them, however, Moon John snatched them up. He gripped my arm, his face tight with masked emotion. Something about the subtle intensity thrumming beneath the surface of his calm made the hair on my arms prickle.

“Come,” he said.

“Shouldn’t we—”

“Now.”

I didn’t know what to make of his reaction. Was he angry that I’d burned the table? Had I failed some unspoken test I didn’t even know about? I cast a look at the guards, but they were busy examining the rest of the vault for damage, coughing into their arms, and waving away the smoke. But then Moon John headed for the door and turned a look so piercing on me, I followed with no further resistance.

We were silent as we headed back down the winding corridor. Moon John’s limp seemed worse with his agitation. I offered him my arm, but he was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice. He didn’t break his intent expression until we had moved completely out of the main house and into the gardens. When we reached the little duck pond on the grounds, Moon John finally stopped.

He eased himself onto the grass with a grunt, his aged body resisting. I dropped to my knees beside him, my throat tight. “I didn’t mean to burn that table,” I said. “I swear to you. I only wanted to make a spark, like you told me to. Honest.”

“I believe you,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the glittering surface of the pond.

“I would never have wanted any damage to come to those relics. Never. I didn’t even want to use the dragon piece, only you told me—”

“I said I believe you.” He met my distressed gaze. I could see the racing thoughts behind his. “But clearly, your intentions and your actions are two different things.”

I had no words. Shame gripped me, and I looked away.

Moon John pulled the five testing relics from his pocket. “Your gifts are not what I had thought. You must test the others.” He lifted the tiny vampire relic between his thumb and index finger. In the bare sunlight, it looked like a frozen bead of night. I stared at it, and then at him, breathless.