Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2)(35)

“No,” she says, as if I’ve invited Death herself into the house.

“His family knows the darker side of magic better than we do,” I remind her. “He knows brujos who deal in the afterlife. Angela the Great is his grandmother. She’s written the deadliest poisons and—”

“I know very well the kinds of poisons Angela has written,” Alex says. “But I’m not asking Nova for help. He’s the one who helped put you in Los Lagos, or have you forgotten?”

“I will never forget Los Lagos.” I want to strangle her for being so stubborn. “He gave up his power to save us.”

Alex holds up a finger to her chest and stabs at her solar plexus. “My power. That was never his. He stole it from me.”

“He brought Dad home,” Rose whispers.

“I’m not sure if we can trust him either,” I say. “But I’m saying that he knows things that might help. Maks is up there in my room, and right now it’s possible he’s responsible for two awful murders. We need some sort of help, and it can’t come from Mom and Dad.”

“Girls?” Dad says, walking toward the foyer where we’ve been lingering. “Dinner’s ready.”

The ceiling creaks. We all look up as though expecting a phantom to materialize or the rusty chandelier to rattle. My whole mouth is dry and my heart beats a guilty rhythm against my chest.

But all my father says is, “I keep forgetting to fix that ceiling.”

? ? ?

Ever since Nova brought my father back, we’ve made it a point to have dinners at the kitchen table. Ma thinks it’ll restore a sense of normalcy, and the three of us don’t have the heart to remind her that we’ve never been normal.

Normal families don’t spend time in other realms. If Alex won’t let me ask Nova for help, then I can make Dad try harder to remember. Maybe he can give me a clue as to how to free Lady de la Muerte and help Maks. I know when I dream, I remember Los Lagos, and perhaps that’s the key to where he’s been.

“Dad,” I start, pushing rice around. I’m too nervous to be subtle. “What do you dream about when you sleep?”

He looks up, surprised by my question. For a moment, I can see the man he used to be, holding a sizzling pot full of meat and potatoes, dancing around the kitchen to a song that was all saxophones and congas. Now, his gray eyes appear haunted and lost.

“Shadows mostly. Why?”

“I wonder if maybe the answer to getting your memories back is in your dreams. At this point, everyone in the family has been to another realm. But we can remember. I just don’t know why you can’t.”

Alex gives me a what the hell are you doing? look, and Rose picks the red peppers out of her yellow rice.

Ma takes a drink of her seltzer water and sighs. “When things calm down, we’ll try again. At least we’re together now, thank La Mama.”

“Why? The Deos weren’t the ones who brought him back,” I say, then cover my mouth immediately.

“Yesterday you said you weren’t ready to cast magic. What’s changed?” Mom asks, her eyebrow quirked high. She has the kind of knowing stare that can draw out the lies from even the best liars.

“It’s not magic,” I say, picking up my fork and keeping my gaze down. “It’s the realms part. I think that might be the answer to all of this.”

“Lula, if something’s wrong, please talk to me.”

For a moment, I want to confess everything to my mother and let her make everything better the way she always has. But she has already suffered so much, and I can’t add to her worry.

“I’m fine, Ma,” I say, and smile through the pain in my abdomen. “Alex and Rose are taking care of me.”

She’s about to say something, but a soft knock on the back door makes her jump. Dad gets up to get it. But when he opens the door, there’s no one there, just the scent of nearby cookouts. He stares out into the backyard for a long time.

“Patricio.” Ma calls out his name like a lifeline.

He shuts the door and takes his seat. Clears his throat. “My dreams are fractures, like my memory is a glass wall and it’s been punched right at the center. But what happened to me can wait. First, I want you to concentrate on healing.”

I wonder, is that what Maks is feeling now that his memory is gone?

“We’ll get through this. The whole world always feels turned upside down,” Ma says, a sad smile as she looks around the table. “We’re brujas. We’ve been through worse.”

And I don’t have the heart to tell her that, perhaps, she’s wrong.

? ? ?

Alex, Rose, and I clean up after dinner while Mom and Dad get ready to go out to Montauk for the home birth.

“Easy on the plate,” Alex says, taking the wet dish out of my hands to dry it.

“It’s not exactly porcelain,” I say.

“Who’s going to buy new ones to replace the ones you break?” she sasses me.

“Sorry, Mom. I have a few things to worry about, like Maks possibly murdering strangers and ripping out their hearts.”

“Did you fix Maks a plate?” Alex asks somberly. “Maybe he’ll keep something down this time.”

“Dad didn’t eat, so I’m going to try to give Maks those leftovers.” I don’t voice my fears out loud. I don’t think this is what Maks wants to eat.