Protector (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 5) Page 11

  “Hey,” Alex said, the brittle note completely gone from his voice. He’d stepped closer to her, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, forcing a smile. “It’s just…memory can be a bitch sometimes, you know?”

  He reached out and ran a thumb over the back of her hand. Briefly, and purely out of a desire to reassure her, she knew, but warmth flooded through her at that touch. She remembered how he’d held her last night, how it had felt being pressed up against his bare skin, how she hadn’t wanted to pull away but had done so because she knew it was dangerous to let him continue to hold her.

  Yes, memory definitely could be a bitch.

  “I know it’s rough. But we’ll get through this. Okay?”

  She nodded, then made herself sip some more tea. Alex seemed to get the message, because he backed away and busied himself with retrieving a coffee mug from the cupboard and fetching a small container of cream from the refrigerator.

  Just as he was pouring some coffee into his mug, his phone pinged. An email, it sounded like. He finished with the coffee, stirred in some cream, and then went to pick up his phone. As he read the message, he seemed to simultaneously relax and tense up.

  “What is it?”

  “The good news — I’m off the hook for work until this is all settled. My father’s going to keep an eye on things.”

  “Oh? Doesn’t he have another job?”

  Alex shook his head, his mouth pulling into a slight frown. “No, he’s sort of retired. That was his fiftieth birthday present to himself. He used to run the store, but now it’s my turn.”

  He didn’t sound too pleased about it, and Caitlin wondered if that was where some of the apparent bitterness about his education had come from. Someone with a double major in marketing and communications had probably planned to do something a little more exciting than manage his family’s neighborhood store.

  “And the bad news?” she asked.

  His gaze returned to the email. “It sounds like Marie Begonie — that’s the Wilcox seer?”

  Caitlin nodded.

  “Anyway, she’s coming down to Tucson. My mother gave her directions, so I guess she’s heading straight here to the house. It sounds like she’ll get here a little after one.”

  Great. Well, it was probably to be expected. No way would Angela allow all this responsibility to rest on the shoulders of an untried seer, even though Caitlin knew deep down that Marie wouldn’t be able to help. For whatever reason, rescuing Danica and Roslyn was Caitlin’s responsibility.

  She didn’t tell Alex that; it wasn’t as if he’d be able to stop Marie, not when she was coming down here at the express request of the McAllister prima. Well, at Connor’s request, probably. Caitlin hadn’t spent a huge amount of time in their shared company, but she could tell that relations between Angela and Marie were a bit strained, no doubt because Marie couldn’t help seeing the daughter she should have had every time she looked at the McAllister prima, if only fate hadn’t intervened. But Marie would never go against the wishes of her primus.

  “Have you met Marie?” Caitlin asked.

  Alex looked somewhat surprised at the apparent non sequitur. “Um, no. I haven’t been up to McAllister territory since, well….” His eyes wouldn’t quite meet hers as he let the sentence die away.

  “Since you went up to find out if you were Angela’s consort.” The thought of Angela kissing Alex in that age-old ritual sent an odd stab of jealousy through Caitlin, which was stupid. It was all just part of the tradition. They hadn’t even known each other. And Angela was ridiculously happy with Connor — anyone with half-decent vision could see that. But Alex? Obviously, he wasn’t married, and as far as Caitlin could tell, it didn’t seem as if he was involved with anyone, either. She sort of doubted he’d have let her sleep in his bed, his role of protector notwithstanding, if he was in a serious relationship with someone else.

  “Yeah, since then.” His tone too deliberately casual, he continued, “Anyway, I met Connor once, and that’s about it for the Wilcoxes. I know some of them have started coming to Phoenix to shop and whatever, and a few more are attending ASU, but none of them have made it all the way to Tucson.”

  “Until now,” Caitlin said. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. They’d slept in; it was almost nine. Her stomach rumbled, and although she didn’t want to impinge too much, she knew she needed to eat something so they could get on with their day. She really didn’t want to risk Marie showing up while she and Alex were still running around in their equivalent of lounge wear. “Are you one of those breakfast-skipping types? Because I’ll try to scrounge something if you are.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s the most important meal of the day.” His dark eyes glinted at her, and it seemed as if some of his good humor had been restored. “I’ve got some frozen breakfast burritos, and there are bananas if you need fruit.”

  Normally, she’d have yogurt and fruit, but a burrito sounded nice and sturdy. Caitlin had a feeling she’d need as much ballast as she could eat in order to face Marie Wilcox-Begonie.

  * * *

  Caitlin was nervous, that much Alex could tell. Obviously, she wasn’t too thrilled about having Marie show up here, and he supposed he couldn’t blame her. After all, she’d been hiding her gift from everyone, and so Marie had been managing seer duties for both clans for the past two years. From the tense, strained look in Caitlin’s eyes, Alex thought she was expecting some kind of dressing-down. He could only hope that Marie wouldn’t do that sort of thing in front of an audience, because he knew he wasn’t about to leave Caitlin alone with the Wilcox seer.

  They’d eaten breakfast, and taken their respective showers and finished getting ready. Since breakfast had been so late, they only grabbed some fruit for lunch. Well, Caitlin had; he asked if she wanted a sandwich and she shook her head, so he put together a quickie ham on wheat bread sandwich for himself while she munched on grapes and stared off through the sliding glass doors, expression troubled. Whether she was worrying about what might be happening to her friends at that moment, or stressing about what Marie was going to say to her, Alex didn’t know for sure, and he didn’t dare ask.

  At five minutes after one, the doorbell rang. He slid off the stool he’d been sitting on at the breakfast bar and headed toward the front door, Caitlin a pace or two behind him. She’d spent some time on her appearance, that much was obvious — her hair hung in shining waves past her shoulders, and she was wearing darker, nicer jeans and a dark green knit top that hugged her curves without being too revealing. Even so, he’d had to work not to stare at her when she emerged from the guest bathroom earlier that morning. She was just so frigging gorgeous.

  When Alex opened the door, he saw two people waiting outside: a severe-looking woman with straight black hair and elegant cheekbones, and a man about the same age, also dark-haired, a ponytail hanging halfway down his back. That must be Andre Begonie, Angela’s father. Unlike his wife, Andre wore a pleasant expression, and smiled at Alex.

  “I hope you don’t mind both of us coming,” Andre said. “I’m Andre, and this is my wife Marie, the Wilcox seer.”

  “Hi, Andre, Marie. I’m Alex. Come on in.”

  He stepped aside, pushing the door open a little wider at the same time. The Wilcox witches entered, Andre flashing a reassuring smile at Caitlin as she stammered a hello, while Marie only nodded and continued on into the living room.

  Nonplussed, Alex brought up the rear. “Uh — can I get you anything? Iced tea? Water?”

  “Some water would be very good. Thank you, Alex,” Marie said in a cool, brisk tone. She sat down on the couch, and Andre settled himself next to her. Looking awkward, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with her hands, Caitlin took her own place on the love seat.

  Since he really didn’t want to leave her alone with Marie and Andre any longer than he had to, Alex hurried with grabbing a couple of glasses, dispensing some ice into them from the freezer door, th
en filling them with water. When he returned to the living room, he was relieved to see that Andre was asking Caitlin if she was doing okay here in Tucson, and whether she needed anything.

  “I’m fine,” she said, wearing a hesitant smile. A quick glance up at Alex as he brought in the glasses of ice water and handed them to Marie and Andre, and she went on, “Alex has been taking very good care of me.”

  Something flickered in Marie’s eyes at that comment, but she only said, “That’s good to hear.” After murmuring a thank-you to Alex for the water, she continued, “Any more visions?”

  Caitlin bit her lip. Alex knew he wouldn’t want to be her, to have to relate what she’d seen the night before to this cold-looking woman. Never mind that Andre was giving Caitlin an encouraging nod, as if trying to let her know that it would all be okay, that she didn’t have to worry about what Marie would say in response to whatever report she might have to give.

  “Last night,” Caitlin said, her voice quiet, tense. “I only saw Danica. She was with Matías.”

  “You saw him?” Marie asked, her tone sharpening. “It was definitely him?”

  A small shudder passed over Caitlin’s slender frame. “Unfortunately, yes.” Her hands knotted together in her lap, and Alex wished he could sink down next to her on the love seat and put his arm around her, give her a comforting hug. Since he doubted that would go over very well with Caitlin or her current audience, he remained where he was, leaning up against the arm of the love seat, watching but not actually participating in the current convo.

  “What did you see, Caitlin?”

  There would be no arguing with that calm, cool voice. Marie Begonie was obviously used to having her questions answered, and it seemed just as obvious that Caitlin knew she couldn’t avoid providing some kind of answer. She seemed to brace herself, shoulders going rigid, and then, in a tight, dispassionate tone that didn’t sound at all like her, she related what she had seen in the vision the night before. No embellishment, no pausing to make an attempt at interpreting those images.

  Just the facts, ma’am, as his grandfather sometimes would joke.

  Andre looked horrified, as one might expect, but Marie showed very little reaction at all, save the smallest tightening of her mouth. Then she said, “But you saw nothing else? Nothing that would indicate where they were?”

  Caitlin shrugged. Frustration was clear in her voice as she replied, “No. I’ve been wracking my brains. There just wasn’t enough detail. And nothing personal lying around that I could see — no photographs, no pieces of unopened mail. Nothing at all, except those saints’ candles. Oh, and I think I saw Danica’s earrings lying on the nightstand next to the ashtray. But while that helps to show it was really Danica I was seeing there, it doesn’t give any more information as to where she might be.”

  “Any sign of Roslyn?” Andre inquired.

  “No. Matías and Danica were alone. There was light coming down the hallway outside the bedroom, so somebody else might have been in the house…apartment…whatever it was…but I didn’t hear anyone or see anything.”

  For a long moment, neither Marie nor Andre said anything. They did share a single significant look, but as Alex didn’t know them very well, he couldn’t hazard a guess as to what they were thinking. Then Marie said, “Caitlin, do you have anything that belonged to Roslyn or Danica? Sometimes holding a personal item helps me focus in on someone.”

  Caitlin began to shake her head, then seemed to stop herself. “You know, I think I do. I borrowed a bracelet from Danica. It should be in with the rest of my stuff.”

  “Please get it for me.”

  Yes, Marie had said “please,” but there was no missing the note of command in her voice. Caitlin got up from the love seat and hurried down the hallway toward the guest room. After she was gone, Marie fixed Alex with the sort of piercing gaze that made him think she must have noticed a stain on his shirt, or maybe a piece of ham sandwich stuck between his teeth.

  “And what is your clan doing about all this?” she asked.

  “Doing?”

  “This…crime…happened on your territory. Surely your prima must be taking some action of her own.”

  Irritated by the note of cool accusation in her voice, he responded, “Besides having you come down here?”

  “That was not something offered by Maya, or your own mother, who seems to be acting as her deputy these days.” Something flashed in Marie’s dark eyes. Anger? “This was something Connor and Angela requested, which is why I am here. But I want to know what your own people are doing. In the end, the responsibility for what happens to those two girls will fall on the de la Paz clan.”

  Was that a threat? It sure sounded like a threat. Although at first he’d been glad that his mother hadn’t chosen to attend this meeting, had appeared to think Alex could handle things on his own, now he wasn’t so certain. Inter-clan diplomacy wasn’t exactly his forte. He’d seen something of how Maya ran things, just because she was his grandmother and so he’d been around her far more than your average member of the clan. Still, it wasn’t enough exposure to give him the sort of experience he needed for this kind of situation.

  “We’re looking into it,” he said, which was basically a non-answer, but better than telling Marie to go to hell. “And of course having Caitlin here is a big help, since we don’t have a seer of our own.”

  The Wilcox witch’s lips thinned at that remark. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut; that Caitlin had turned out to be a seer at all was probably a sore subject with Marie Begonie.

  But then Caitlin returned, holding a bracelet of woven leather and turquoise beads. If she noticed the tension in the room, she didn’t give any indication. Or possibly she’d decided the best thing to do was ignore it.

  “Here’s the bracelet,” she said, handing it to Marie.

  She took it, turning it over in her hand, letting a finger slide over the surface of a smoothly polished bead. “When did she loan this to you?”

  “Right before we left. I said it would be cute with one of the tops I was packing, and she told me to go ahead and take it, since she wasn’t planning on wearing it.”

  “Good. Then she’s handled it recently.”

  Caitlin nodded and resumed her place on the love seat. As she settled herself, she looked up at Alex, her glance clearly questioning, but he knew he couldn’t say anything in front of Andre and Marie. Alex knew he’d never been the best at concealing his emotions, so God only knew what was on his face right then. Irritation…worry? About all he could do was hope that Marie would think his expression stemmed from being troubled over the current situation and not anything she might have said.

  They were all silent as Marie turned the bracelet over and over in her hand. Then she shook her head. “I’m not getting anything. Is there someplace where I can go to sit quietly?”

  The house had three bedrooms, but Caitlin’s stuff was in the guest room, and the other bedroom held his home office. Well, what he called his office. It was really more of a man cave, what with the big TV mounted on one wall and a console that held his various gaming equipment. Yes, it had a desk, which was where his laptop usually hung out, but it still didn’t feel like the sort of place Marie was asking about.

  “On the patio?” he suggested. “It’s usually pretty quiet out there, and if you think it’s too warm, I can turn on the ceiling fans.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said, rising from the couch. Andre made a movement, as if to get up as well, but she made a quelling gesture with one hand and he subsided, not looking all that comfortable.

  Alex decided to ignore that exchange and instead pointed toward the French doors that opened from the living room onto the patio. “Right through there. They’re unlocked.”

  She nodded and went outside, letting in a waft of warm air. The day was clear, the sun bright. He had to hope she could either figure out the ceiling fans or would take off the sweater she wore over her T-shirt and denim skirt. That sweater
had probably been necessary up in Flagstaff, but it sure wasn’t needed here.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw her pull out one of the chairs at the patio table and sit down, taking the exact spot where Caitlin had sat the night before. But since Marie obviously didn’t want an audience, he made himself turn back toward Andre.

  The older man seemed to recognize Alex’s unease. “She can come on a little strong,” he said. “I apologize for that. She’s just worried. We all are.”

  Caitlin swallowed. “I am so sorry about not saying anything about my visions before this. I never thought — ”

  Andre held up a hand. “It’s — well, I’m not sure if I can say it’s all right, exactly, but what’s done is done. The best we can do now is hope that your talents, combined with Marie’s, will be enough to guide us to those girls before…before anything else can happen to them.”

  His expression was grim, and Alex couldn’t blame him. For all any of them knew, what Caitlin had seen the night before was only the smallest taste of what Danica and Roslyn might be enduring even as the rest of them sat here, far away from any danger. Alex reminded himself that Andre was Angela’s father, and very likely was putting himself in the places of Roslyn’s and Danica’s fathers, both of whom must be worried sick about their daughters, but who could only sit and wait while the elders of their clans attempted to effect some kind of rescue.

  “I hope so, too,” Caitlin said. “I’ve been trying and trying, hoping to get something else to come through, but…I just can’t force the visions.”

  “It’s all right,” Andre told her, although some hesitation in his voice told Alex the other man wasn’t quite as all right with it as he wanted Caitlin to think. Maybe he thought, after being married to Marie for the past few years, that the whole seer thing came that naturally to everyone who’d been born with the gift.