Darkmoon(38)

“What, you didn’t like the beach?”

Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “Not really. That is, I liked the beach itself just fine, but I couldn’t handle having that many people around me all the time. I’m too used to wide-open spaces.”

“I can’t really argue with that.”

And so we shared some idle chitchat about Southern California and the hotel, leaving behind the subject of our future residence. After all, it was all going to be pretty academic if we couldn’t figure out a way to break the curse. And what would happen if I was gone, and left the baby behind? A morbid thought, but one I had to make myself think about, considering the track record of all those former Wilcox wives. I supposed if it was a boy he would go to live with the Wilcoxes and be the next primus after Connor, and if the baby was a girl, she’d go to the McAllisters. All very neat and sensible. I had a feeling the reality would end up being a little messier than that, as I doubted Connor would ever willingly hand over a child of his to my relatives to raise, thus abdicating any responsibility.

“Chimichanga,” the waiter said, startling me out of my reverie as he set my meal in front of me. “Very hot plate, miss.”

I nodded, forcing my dark thoughts away, and watched as he set down a sizzling plate of fajitas next to Connor, along with one of those little plastic warmers for the tortillas. After the waiter asked if we needed anything else and we both murmured that we were fine, Connor sent an inquiring glance in my direction.

“You didn’t look like you were thinking very happy thoughts.”

“I wasn’t,” I admitted. Not that I really wanted to tell him what had been on my mind, but I’d admonished him earlier that there could be no secrets, no lies between us, and I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t follow my own rules. “I was just thinking about what would happen to the baby after — I mean, if we can’t — ”

“Don’t say it,” he cut in. “We will figure out a way to make this work. We will.”

He looked so determined that I could only nod and say, “You’re right, of course. Well, let’s eat so we can get back on the road.”

And that’s what we did, plowing into our food and concentrating on the here and now, and not what might be in the future. That chimichanga restored my faith in humanity, and Connor seemed to be having a similar reaction to his fajitas, so I was glad I chose this place, even if it was a little off the beaten track. After we were done, the waiter asked if we wanted anything else, but we both just shook our heads. Even I couldn’t have fit anything else in my stomach, not even some homemade flan.

“Just the check,” Connor said, and shortly thereafter we settled up and made our way back outside.

The restaurant was located in a small strip mall with inadequate parking, so we’d had to leave the Cherokee around the corner on the street. I wasn’t that thrilled about the area, but the car had a security system and of course was insured up to the hilt, so I’d told myself not to worry about it. As we approached the SUV, it looked fine — no windows broken in or anything like that. My feeling of relief quickly began to fade, however, when I saw a group of five young men begin to approach us from down an alley across the street.

“Connor,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said, his jaw tense. “Just keep walking.”

But it wasn’t just any gang of toughs out to carjack what they thought was an easy mark. As they got closer, I could feel the power coming from them, the same pulsing energy all witches and warlocks shared. My eyes widened, even as Connor sent a quick worried look down at me. Clearly, he’d sensed it, too.

The young men paused about ten feet away from us, blocking access to the car. The leader, a young Hispanic man who looked like he was around Connor’s age, flashed us a sardonic grin. “So, what are you doing here, witches?”

“Just passing through,” Connor said calmly. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Ah, well, I guess it’s not a question of whether you want it, ese.” The four other warlocks came up to flank their leader. They were all in their twenties, muscled builds shown off by tight-fitting T-shirts or wife-beaters. I wouldn’t have wanted to come up against them even if they didn’t also happen to have magical powers.

“Really, we’re just heading back to Arizona — ” I began, and the leader let his dark gaze rake up and down my body before he laughed and said,

“Don’t worry, chica, we’ll have some fun with you after we take care of pretty-boy here. As for Arizona” — he spat on the ground — “we got no use for that shitty state, or the pinche puta who thinks she runs things over there. Deciding who can come in and who has to stay in this rathole!”