Bedlam Boyz(13)

"But you know, I want more than this. . . . I want to finish high school, become a lawyer. . . ."

"A laywer, that's good!" Manuel laughed. "Then you can keep Carlos out of jail when they arrest him for selling rock!"

Carlos gave him a dirty look, then turned back to Ramon. "We'll go find this bruja, Ramie. If she's real, if she can do what that crazy man said, then she'll make the difference for us. Then you can do whatever you want, Ramie. You can go back to school, become a lawyer, do anything."

Ramon didn't answer. Carlos thought about saying something more, trying to find other words to convince his baby brother, then decided against it. Today Ramon was saying that he didn't want to help, but he wouldn't walk away from the familia, Carlos knew that. And if Manuel didn't believe him about the bruja, that was fine, too. When they found the girl, his brothers would change their minds.

Because he'd seen the magic himself. Oh, he'd heard his mother's stories of magia and tierra del las hadas, the land of the faerie people, but he'd never believed them.

Until last night, when he'd seen the sparks of witchlight on the girl's hands, blue and bright in the harsh light of the jail cell. And the shirt with the bullet hole in it; he'd felt something when he touched it, a strange sensation he couldn't identify. He knew the crazy man's story was true, even if no one else believed it, not even the policía.

He would find the girl, the little bruja. Even in a city as large as Los Angeles, it was only a matter of time before they found her.



"It's called magic," Elizabet said, pouring another cup of tea. "And you have enough for three, child. More than anyone I've ever met, to be honest."

Kayla yawned again, and glanced at the kitchen clock. Six A.M. I wonder if this lady ever goes to sleep? "I don't believe in magic," Kayla said stubbornly. It was the third time she'd said that in the last five minutes, and she wasn't really certain whether she believed it anymore. Especially after what had happened tonight.

"You keep saying that, but the evidence is before your eyes. You healed the man in the jail cell . . . yes, I could tell that just by looking at him," she said in response to Kayla's wide-eyed look. "I expect you healed your hurt friend who was mentioned in the police report, though it seems you didn't do a complete healing on him, since he's in the hospital right now."

"I'm not a healer. I don't believe in magic," Kayla repeated, rubbing her eyes.

:How can you keep saying that, Kayla, when you know it isn't true?:

"Stop that!" Kayla shouted, furious. "I hate it when you do that!"

Elizabet put her hand over her mouth, and a moment later Kayla realized why: she was stifling her laughter.

"Don't laugh at me!" Kayla yelled. "And stop saying things without opening your mouth. It isn't natural," she concluded.

"Who's to say what's natural and what isn't?" Elizabet leaned forward across the table. "I believe everyone has a touch of it, a little magic. But only a very few people ever develop it into anything useful and predictable. And I've never met anyone like you before."

"I'm nothing special," Kayla said, looking down at her hands. The same hands that had held that weird light . . .

"No. At the moment, I'd call you remarkably dangerous, not special."

"Dangerous?"

"That man in the cell—you could've killed him, if you'd wanted to. Did you want to?" Elizabet was looking at her intently.

Kayla shook her head. "No. If I wanted him to die, I could've just let him bleed to death in the store. I just wanted him to let go of me. I don't . . . I don't want to kill anybody. Ever."

"I'm glad to hear that." Elizabet folded her hands on the table, looking down. To Kayla, she looked suddenly nervous, which was very different from the impression she'd given all evening of a tough, self-confident lady. "I'm not quite certain how to say this, Kayla . . . but I want you to consider staying here. As my student."

"What?" Kayla wasn't certain she'd heard her correctly.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a foster home for you in this area. The local schools are fairly good, and I can arrange tutoring for you in academic subjects, if you need to make up for lost time. But what I'd like to do is teach you about magic. You're the first person I've met that has the potential to learn magic . . . no, more than just the potential to learn magic. You have the potential to easily surpass me and become someone who could make a major difference in this world, for many people."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life. You need to learn how to use this magic. Because it's not going to go away, not now that you've used it once. And until you learn how to control it, your magic is incredibly dangerous, to you and everyone around you. Believe me, it's true. You have to learn to control the magic, not let the magic control you." Elizabet looked up at the kitchen clock. "My, look at the time. I forget that not everyone is used to working the night shift. We'll talk more about this after you've slept. I'll set you up in the guest bedroom."