Maybe I was just worried about what would happen to Connor if he lost me to the curse. Would he pick up his life and move on, focus on raising his child, or would he succumb to the same black plotting that had taken over Damon’s life?
Connor seemed to sense something of my roiling emotions, because his fingers slipped around mine, intertwining, bringing with them that sense of warm strength I always got from him. “Are you all right?” he murmured.
Managing a nod, I raised my chin and tried to meet Maya’s gaze. “Well, I knew it was a long shot. I just figured I would ask.”
Somewhat to my surprise, she reached out and gave me a sympathetic pat on the knee. “I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you to never know your own mother. And then to learn something of your father, but not know where he is, or what happened to him?” Her gaze sharpened, and I knew she must have seen something of the beginnings of those earlier tears in my eyes, although I had a feeling she couldn’t begin to understand their true cause. “I would be more surprised if you hadn’t asked. But truly, I know nothing else beyond what I’ve told you.”
I nodded, then said, “And there’s something else….”
“I had a feeling there might be.”
Now it was my turn to hesitate, and once again I felt Connor squeeze my hand gently, telling me it was all right to go ahead and relate the story of what happened in Indio.
So I did, speaking quickly, just giving the straight facts of what had transpired, not embellishing anything. When I was done, Maya sat quietly for a long moment, clearly weighing what she intended to say next.
“There are many bad elements over there now,” she said at last, her tone heavy with worry. “Some are good people, of course, merely displaced and looking for somewhere to call their own. This is why I took in those whom Connor mentioned to you. But there are many troublemakers, and I fear Simón Santiago is not quite as in control of things as he believes. There is little I can do, though, save protect my own. And this other thing….”
“Have you heard of anything like that?” Connor asked, clearly hoping that Maya, with her far greater experience of the witching world, might be able to offer some insight, some advice.
“No.” She lifted her shoulders, and although I knew she was not a young woman, had to be in her early sixties at least, this was the first time she looked old to me, old and tired, as if for the first time in a very long while she had been confronted by something she didn’t understand. “You realize that what you have now — the joining of a primus and a prima — this has never happened before, at least in no history that I have ever read, or had told to me by she who was prima before me. So it is not so surprising that you would be exploring new strengths, new powers, that no one else has yet seen.”
“But what are we supposed to do with them?” I asked.
Another shrug, not of indifference, but of uncertainty. “That, I suppose, is up to you.”
8
Double Jeopardy
We drove out of Phoenix with the lowering sun blazing strong and hot orange, casting long shadows from the saguaro and ocotillo cacti on the side of the road. After we left Maya’s house, neither Connor nor I said anything, only got in the Cherokee and headed back to the freeway. My thoughts kept darting this way and that, and as the suburbs of the various valley communities flashed by, I couldn’t help wondering if my father had taken this same route so many years ago. Where had he been heading? Where had he gone?
I didn’t know, and I was feeling the beginnings of a headache. The heat, probably, and it frustrated me that I couldn’t ask Connor to pull off at a drive-through so I could get a Coke. That had always worked for me in the past, and a glass of wine would have been even better, but I knew that I had to watch the caffeine consumption, and alcohol was really out of the question.
It wasn’t until we were almost completely out of the Phoenix sprawl, passing by the outlet stores at Anthem, that Connor finally spoke. “You doing okay?”
“I guess so. Just tired, probably.”
He looked over at me quickly, then returned his attention to the road. “Should we have stopped to get something to eat?”
“No, it’s not that.” Well, maybe it was, in a way. I could feel the beginnings of hunger pangs starting, and I knew there wasn’t much between Phoenix and our turn-off on the 260. On the other hand, I really didn’t want to delay getting home. There were a few places in Cottonwood that stayed open past nine. We could stop there if we needed to. Fidgeting with the cap of the water bottle that sat in the cup holder next to me, I said, “It just seems like every time we go asking questions, I end up with about a million more.”