Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2)(73)

I pause for a moment over the fact that Rhett left me flowers. But something far more important pushes the thought aside and I instead turn to Frederik. “Could the serum heal the casimuertos?”

“I’m sorry.” Even for a vampire, he looks somber. “I tried before they escaped. It didn’t take.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” But even I know the answer.

“I didn’t want to give you false hope. Even now, your body is burning right through the serum. The way the casimuertos are multiplying, it’s taking an unsustainable toll on your body.”

I banish the spark of hope that was starting to form.

“I developed it to cure almost any creature on this earth,” he explains. “It affects species differently, of course. It’s a temporary cure. It won’t stop or reverse death. It’s healed your flesh wounds. But there’s still the abnormality here that is completely untouched.”

He points to the X-rays. Right over my heart is a black, misshapen mass.

“It’s grown a centimeter in diameter since Rhett brought you back in. It’s nearly the same size as your heart.”

I touch my chest right over my solar plexus. This is the very thing that tethers me to the casimuertos. When I look at the black mass on the X-ray, I shudder.

“This whole time I’ve thought that the silver thread that appears is linking me to the casimuertos. But it’s not a link. It’s a parasite.”

I start to stand, but Rhett stops me.

“I know you’re upset, but you need to let the serum finish working.”

“Upset?” I pull the tubes out and shimmering liquid spills down my arm. “The city is crawling with an undead swarm that I raised. The goddess of death is between realms and only I can break her out. On top of that, my ex-boyfriend just tried to kill me. So tell me, Rhett, how upset am I?”

“I just—”

Frederik presses his hand on Rhett’s chest. Rhett tries to push forward but the vampire is freakishly strong.

“Now, take me to my family. I need to speak with Alex.”

“As you wish,” Frederik says. He leaves a plain, black shirt and jeans on the exam table, and they wait for me outside.

I dress quickly, giving one last look at the X-ray of my chest. This leech—it’s impervious to magic and science because it was born out of death. And I know the only way to get rid of it.

I follow the vampire and the hunter through a long, narrow hallway. The florescent lights above flicker in time to our steps, and the walls tremble as if an earthquake is hitting us. Then we hear yelling.

Frederik opens a door, and I see my family gathered around.

“Alex!” I run up to where her hand is pressed against a glass wall.

I snap my head around to look at Frederik. “You locked my sister up?”

“She couldn’t contain her magic,” McKay says, standing behind the control panels.

“Let her out!” I shout.

“She’s been like this for hours,” Rose says.

I run up to Rhett and shove him hard. There’s a flicker of shock on his face as he stumbles backward, but he catches himself quickly.

“We had no choice but to contain her,” he shouts back. “She attacked me. Besides, this isn’t jail. It’s a time-out unit. The real jail is in the Hudson River.”

“Let her out,” I say. “We need her.” I need her.

“It’s hard to convince me that you’re willing to work with us when your sister is trying to fry us.”

“Why do we have to convince you?” I ask. I mean, he did technically save me and bring me back. But that doesn’t give him the right to do this. “We protect our magic.”

“Tell her to kill the lightning, and I’ll let her out,” Rhett says. “We’re on the same side.”

“What’s the magic word?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath and mutters, “Please.”

I go to the glass wall keeping Alex contained. I press my hands on it and she lines her palms with mine.

“Are you okay?” she asks, dodging one of her own lightning bolts that bounces from wall to wall. “I can’t stop it, Lula.”

“I’m fine,” I say, and I can’t help but glance back at the hunter. “He tried to help with Maks but he got away. I need you, Ale. Please, you know how to contain your power.”

Alex takes a few steps back. She stands in the center of the small room and holds her hands out. Dozens of bolts bounce off the walls, leaving behind giant burn marks. She closes her eyes and inhales until the lights stop flickering and the walls stop shaking and there is only stillness.

“Thank goodness. The electrocuted look does not work for me,” McKay says, and punches in a code. The glass wall slides open with a whoosh.

I run in to hug her, not caring that I get a shock of static when I do. Her body relaxes against mine, and when she holds me, I start to shake. She smooths down my hair and rubs a hand on my back.

I wipe at the tears on my face. My entire life I’ve watched my mother hold back her emotions. I wanted to be like her. Strong. Resilient. Like steel made flesh. I hated crying. But I’m not like her. My strength is different from my mom’s. It’s different from my sisters’ too. And maybe that’s okay because everything I’ve done has led me back to the place where I belong—with my family.