The Beckoning of Broken Things (The Beckoning Series) (17 page)

A group of men and women cluster around a man who is jerking and convulsing in the dirt. Rafe pushes the onlookers aside and begins asking questions. A few seconds later he shouts, “Marissa, go to my room. I’ve got a medical kit under the bed.”

“A medical kit? Seriously?”

“Just go! I’m a trained medic.”

I sprint to the house, race up the stairs
, and pull back his tidy covers. “So much for your precision bed making,” I mutter, crouching before the bed. I peer underneath, and sure enough, a bag with a big red cross on it sits on the floor. I grab it and jet back outside.

When I return, Rafe has positioned the man on his side and crumpled up someone’s shirt as a pillow. The man is still convulsing. His teeth are clenched
, and his eyes are rolled back in his head. Saliva is spraying from and frothing about his mouth.

“Get an IV out of there and a syringe.
A cannula, too. That’s the little tube that will go into the bag. Look for a vial of Dilantin. We have to give it to him intravenously.”

“This isn’t sorcery
that did this, is it?” I ask, my hands fervently searching through his bag.

“
Too soon to tell. If it is, it may have triggered the seizure. We’re going to give him the Dilantin to calm him, then Marco will drive him to the nearest hospital. It’s many meters from here. I’ll have to go with him. You should come, too. I’m going to need some help.”

“Sure, whatever I can do to help.” I
grasp the IV bag and swiftly unwrap the catheter attached to the cannula.

“Gloves, please.”

I search and find the latex gloves and shove them in Rafe’s hand.

“Here - put this end into the IV bag
, then clamp it shut.”

I do what he asks.

Rafe swiftly inserts the needle end of the catheter into
the man’s vein at the elbow juncture, pressing open the catheter wings to hold it in place. He removes the plastic cover of the syringe, puts it between his teeth, jabs the needle into the tiny vial of Dilantin and pulls the plunger. He straightens and plunges the syringe full of Dilantin into the peripheral line of the catheter. “There. That should calm the convulsions in no time.”

A
truck speeds up the dirt road and screeches to a stop. Carlos’ son leaps from the driver’s seat and calls out to Rafe.

“Is there anything back there for comfort?
Consolo?” Rafe calls.

Marco
answers and Rafe nods. He employs a few workers to assist us in getting the rapidly calming man to the truck bed. I’m zipping along next to them, trying to keep the IV bag and catheter lines steady. Once we’re settled in the truck bed, we set off.

As we
jostle along the dirt road heading toward the nearest town, Rafe says to me, “Your plantation is a riot. One interruption after the next…”

“It could be a si
gn, like I said.”

“
I think you’re interpreting the signs wrong. I’m a practical man. A smart man. I have to pay attention to everything to do what I do. Nothing escapes me. But this…” He gestures back and forth between him and me. “To me, this is so right. You and I are a perfect fit.”

I bite my lip.
That’s what Daniel said, too.
Thing is, I’m starting to wonder if he’s right.

“I just don’t believe the signs are telling us to stay away from each other. I think it’s just a case of…there’s a lot here to deal with. Things will calm down soon enough.”

The man lying between us stirs. His eyelids flutter open. He groans.

“Do you speak English?” Rafe asks.

“Some.”

He looks to be about my age - late twenties. As he talks, I notice a chipped tooth in his mouth.
Another tooth is just plain missing.
We’ve got to get better medical care at the plantation. This is ridiculous.

“Has this happened before?”

The young man shakes his head.

“Your name?”

“Ricardo Gonzales.”

“Well, Ricardo, I’m Rafe. This is Marissa. We’re taking you to
Capão Bonito.”

Ricardo nods his head.
“Obrigado. Thank you.”

“Where were you when the seizure started?”

Ricardo’s mouth clamps shut. He makes the sign of the cross on his heart and focuses his gaze between us.

“Ricardo, I’m your boss now. If there’s danger at the farm, I need to know about it.”

“I was trying to find someone,” he mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch all of that,” I say.

He turns his head to Rafe and speaks softly as if I’m not there. I’m not sure what I’m going to have to do to garner respect, but I’m going to have to figure it out.

“I was looking for my girlfriend, Renata. We have been forbidden to see one another. She is promised to someone else. We are in love. In love, I tell you! We will be together.”

“I see,” Rafe says impassively. “So you were going to get a quickie while you were supposed to be working. Is that it?”

“A quickie?”

“You know…” Rafe makes a circle with the index finger and thumb of one hand and pushes the index finger of the other hand in and out.

Ricardo looks away
from Rafe. “Maybe…so what?”

“You’re lying, Ricardo.”

Ricardo cranks his head around to me.

“I’m not,” he protests.

“You are.”

“How do you know this?”

“Trade secret,” I say, tapping the side of my head. I’ve always been able to glean when someone isn’t telling the truth. Ever since my Light Rebel skills were restored, my capacity for sensing a lie has grown stronger. “Now tell us what you were going to do when you had the seizure. You know what God does to liars.”

Ricardo’s face blanches. He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small
gold ring.

It’s got a chip of a diamond in it.
Nothing fancy, but I’ll bet to Ricardo it represents a small fortune.

“I borrowed this from a friend. I was going to give it to Renata. It was just until I could afford to buy her a real ring.”

“Borrowed or stole?”

Ricardo says nothing.

“And who was this friend? Where was the ring?”

“A friend of a friend told me that I would find the ring behind the storage barn. I knew whose it was. But this friend said if I found it, I could claim it.
If I found it, it was mine. But when I stooped to pick it up…”

“The seizure started,” I finish.

“No! It was the work of diabo! The devil!” cries Ricardo. “My hand began to take on the shape of a horse’s hoof. It was then that the seizure began!”

I
press my lips together and look at Rafe. “What’s with this friend of a friend business?” I turn back to Ricardo. “And you believed this so-called friend? If you knew whose ring it was, didn’t it cross your mind that this person would notice it missing, see it on Renata’s finger, and accuse her of stealing it?”

Ricardo cringes. “I hadn’t thought of that, no. I would never want to hurt Renata.”

“Use your head, then. I think you need a few Hail Mary’s.” I shake my head in disgust. Clearly, Armando is preying on my staff’s weaknesses.
Is he going to dismantle this operation, a few at a time?
“We’ll deal with all of this when you are well, Ricardo. Thank you for telling us. It helps.”

“Please don’t fire me,” Ricardo pleads. “I need this job.”

“We’ll figure something out,” I say, non-committedly.

A while later, Ricardo drifts into a light slumber, as we bounce along in the hot sun.
“All this stuff that Armando is doing is a big problem. We need to take him down.”

Rafe smirks at me. He lifts his hands to make air quotes. “‘We’ don’t need to take him down. That’s a man’s job. You’re still a baby Light Rebel
, baby.”

“You’re not the only badass on the planet,” I huff.

“Clearly not,” he replies, smiling.

“Who’s got that mythical sword in her possession?”

“Point taken.”

“What about our re-con mission?” I ask Rafe.

“Oh, so now it’s
our
re-con mission?”

“I told you, I’m coming with you. Just try to leave me behind.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.” He smiles at me. “Everything about you, Marissa…everything about you is a dream come true.”

“You know what they say about dreams.”

“What do they say?”

“They’re insubstantial.” I look away from him.

“Not this one,” he says with conviction. “You’ll see. Remember, I abide in shadow lands and those are supposedly insubstantial, too.”

An hour or more later
, we arrive in a bustling village, jostling along a dirt road. There are small ramshackle dwellings dotting the landscape - tiny homes with corrugated tin roofs, open air windows, and a general state of run down. The neighborhoods look PBS perfect. I expect a narrator to start telling us the socio-economic status of the residents and how they make their livelihood.

It’s so hot in town, even the dogs have given up on movement. Instead they rest in whatever shade they can find, lying prone like furry corpses.
My teeth are tired of clacking together when we go over a bump. Marco is driving as fast as he can to get to the hospital. The ride smoothes out when we pull onto a paved road, and minutes later, we pull up to a tiny medical facility. We pull up to the section marked Emergência, and Rafe leaps out of the truck and heads inside. A few minutes later, an aging gurney is pushed out by two men. They proceed to load Ricardo onto the gurney, and Rafe sends Marco in to check him in.

Rafe scoots onto the tailgate and pats the area next to him, indicating I should join him.

When I do, he puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “Rafe…” I say.

“No, Marissa. No more protests. You either want this or you don’t. Stop putting out mixed signals. Follow your heart.” He angles his body to face me and tips my chin up. “I want you. I might have accepted your refusal of me a week ago - hell, I’d have been the first one to suggest it - but no more. I’ve seen the way you look at me.
I’ve seen the things you can do.”

“What about Daniel?” I say in a low voice.

“I’ll share if he will.”

Pitta pat. Pitta pat. My heart beats an accelerated rhythm, like I’ve just run the length of the Grand Canyon. Rafe is close, so close
, and I want him so bad and I’m still torn between falling in and shoving away. “I don’t think Daniel shares. Not when it comes to me.” I swallow and scrub my damp palms against the long shirttails of Rafe’s shirt.

“We’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
The tic near his left eye starts up again. A flicker of annoyance crosses his face. He lifts his hand toward the tic.

His hand trembles as it rises
, and I wonder if he’s about to have a withdrawal episode.

“Goddamn it,” he barks
, slamming his hand into the tailgate.

“That had to hurt,” I say
, as my arousal runs for cover.

“Not really.” He balls his hands into fists, takes a deep breath and lets them uncurl. “Where was I?”
He turns his face toward me and runs his tongue along his lips, just like Daniel does.

It’s a sexy
little gesture that puts me right back in the mood. It works every time.

He leans toward me and brushes his lips against mine.

“Oh, God,” I breathe against his lips. “Oh, yes.” His hand cups the back of my neck, enveloping me in warmth. The sun is beating against the top of my head, adding to the heat inside and out. I start to fall into the kiss, to melt into those soft, hot lips.

Rafe
jerks. He breaks the near kiss and stares at something or someone behind me.

I turn my head to look and see a distinguished looking man strolling toward me with a curvaceous woman on each arm.
His attention is focused on one of the women.
Armando Navid. It has to be.
When I turn back, Rafe has disappeared.

Armando looks up and sees me. He seems surprised and grins broadly.
“Greetings!” Armando says, making his leisurely way up next to me. “What a surprise!” He’s dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and light colored pants. He looks a lot like Daniel only without the blue eyes. Daniel must have inherited those brilliant blue eyes from his mother.

His women look like Carnaval Samba dancers. Dressed in too tight skimpy bits of nothing and high heels, the only thing missing is elaborate feather headdresses.
I give them a wan smile which they don’t bother returning.

He kisses each of the women on the cheek and murmurs to them, “Head over to the bar. I have some business to conduct with this
young woman, and I’ll meet you there shortly.”