Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2)(84)

Dad and Alex run inside, conjuring rain. But they only needed to get one thing. Our Book of Cantos.

Rhett makes his way through the cleanup and stands in front of my parents.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Rhett says, “but it will be safer for you to let it burn. We’ll take care of the bodies.”

“What will we tell the police?” Mom asks, her eyes flooding with tears that reflect the red flames.

“I’ll stay,” Rhett says, starting to retreat. The shadow boy who watched over me like a dark angel. “I’ll take care of it.”

My mom pulls him into a bone-breaking hug.

“The sun is rising,” Frederik the vampire says. “Some of us must go.”

“I’m starting to wonder how many so-called accidents are actually THA cover-ups,” Alex says out loud. She rests her arm on my shoulder and leans her head against mine.

McKay and others of the THA pile as many casimuertos as they can into the back of a black SUV that pulls into our yard. The Alliance works quickly. Expertly.

When it comes to Maks, I ask them to wait. I take his severed hand and place it on his chest. I press my fingers to my lips and carry that kiss over to his. My eyes sting at seeing him like this. In spite of everything, I loved him, and the last memory I want to have of him is on that bus as he tried to save me.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him one last time.

When the bodies are all gone and the fire reaches Alex’s room in the attic, we finally hear sirens.

“That’s our cue to go,” McKay says, adjusting his black baseball cap and hopping into the driver’s seat. He points a finger at Rose. “Be good, little magical hacker.”

I try to thank everyone here. But the Alliance is hard to thank. They brush it off like it’s just another day.

“Got all the weapons?” Rhett asks one of his hunters. They pack up anything that might look suspicious when the NYPD does their sweep.

“I guess a living room full of daggers and machetes was going to raise a lot of questions,” I say.

“We’ll try to replace what we can,” he assures me.

I watch my house go up in flames. This is the place where I was born. I broke my nose sliding down the banister and Rose wore a permanent spot on the carpet in the nook where she liked to read. We celebrated our dead in there. We ate and drank and gossiped in the kitchen. I snuck out the window and broke my ankle. Twice. We saved lives and lost lives, and we laughed and cried and whispered our secrets and fears into every corner we could find.

We lived.

Mom sits on the tree stump that was once a portal, clutching the Book of Cantos to her chest. Dad rubs her back. I hold my sisters’ hands. Nova takes a power nap on the grass but wakes when a car door slams.

A black cop car pulls up on the front yard. We know what to say. Rhett told us to talk about the electricity going haywire, which is true. And the fire, which Alex technically started when she was fighting off a casimuerto. But that’s always been our lives—half-truths and half-lies.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, then sling a string of curse words that feel so good to say out loud.

“Ms. Mortiz,” Detective Hill says as he walks toward us across the lawn. His face is like a melting candle and his leather jacket smells of cigarettes and bourbon. “The fire department is on their way.”

There’s nothing left for them to save.

There’s a fresh gleam in his eyes, like he’s excited about what he might find. When he looks over my shoulder, something he sees upsets him. Someone.

“Mr. Dulac,” the detective says, a scowl on his face. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Rhett. He’s dressed differently. In a plain, long-sleeved shirt that looks soft to the touch and dark slacks. He holds his hand out to Detective Hill, who stares at it longer than is the custom before shaking it.

“I’m sure surprised isn’t the word you really want to use.” Rhett pats the detective on the back and leads him back to the front of the house, a silent understanding between them I can’t fully grasp, but perhaps I don’t need to yet.

For now, I have to be present.

I join my family.

We gather around and watch our home burn.





37


She lives in the glimmer of dawn.

And when the night is weak,

and when the light is gone.

—Rezo for La Esperanza, Goddess of Sighs and All the World’s Goodness, Book of Deos




Graduation isn’t something I thought I’d get to have. After they closed the school early because of the accident, they discovered a pile of dead bodies in the school basement, which the casimuertos used as a hideout, and so, my entire class graduated automatically. I was probably one credit away from failing, but here I am in my cap and gown, sweating under the July sun.

The first half of the evening was a memorial for the students killed in the accident. They wanted me, as the sole survivor, to give a motivational speech. Something that would make people feel hopeful. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And so Dante Ramirez, Ramirez’s little brother, gave a speech he could barely get through.

As I watch our valedictorian give her speech, I can’t help but focus on the knight sigil that’s on the podium and think of the THA and the Knights of Lavant.