Their destination was even farther south, but because of its elevation, it tended to be a couple of degrees cooler than Phoenix. Big deal, Caitlin thought. Like you can really tell the difference between seventy-nine and eighty-one degrees.
In contrast to the bright, sunny day outside, she felt cold all over. It could have merely been that Danica was blasting the air conditioning…or it could have been something else entirely. She reached over and shut the vent that was blowing on her. It helped, sort of.
Then they were at the condo, retrieving their keys from the resort office, unloading the Land Rover and getting everything situated. It was a full one-bedroom, not a studio, so there were two queen beds and a fold-out couch. They flipped for who would get the couch, and Roslyn lost.
“You swear you didn’t put a whammy on that quarter?” she asked, giving Danica the side-eye.
“Witch’s honor,” Danica replied, putting her fingers in an upside-down “V” near her nose.
“I think it’s supposed to go the other way,” Caitlin said, although she wasn’t completely sure. Her mother didn’t think reruns of Bewitched were a very good viewing choice, considering how the show’s portrayal of witches was completely unrealistic. But Caitlin hadn’t really watched it because of the way it portrayed witches, but because she was fascinated by the styles and the technology (or lack thereof), and the sense of it taking place so very long ago.
“Is it? I haven’t seen that show since I was a little kid. Talk about giving me a skewed sense of what it means to be a witch. I kept trying to wiggle my nose and have a unicorn show up in the backyard or something, but it never worked.”
They all laughed at that, then decided it was late enough that they could justify going out for margaritas. After doing some quick research on Yelp, they found a Mexican restaurant within walking distance that sounded decent and headed over.
“Ah, this is heaven,” Roslyn sighed as she took a long pull on her strawberry margarita, once they’d all settled themselves in a booth. “And it feels so good to be able to wander around in flip-flops. My toes have been yearning for freedom.”
“Well, they look pretty free now,” Caitlin said, after taking a quick look under the table and noting her friend’s bright turquoise polish, complete with sparkly flowers on her big toes. Although her own classic margarita on the rocks tasted great, Caitlin still was feeling prickly and on edge. Never mind that a brightly decorated Mexican restaurant in Tucson was probably one of the last places she’d expect to meet any kind of trouble.
“Mmm…look over there,” Danica murmured, giving the slightest jerk of her chin toward a table with three young men around their own age, maybe a few years older. “Tasty, huh?”
Caitlin shifted in her seat so she could get a better look without actually appearing as if she were staring in their direction. At the same time, she felt a tingle along the back of her neck, her witch sense telling her that the guys in question must be warlocks. “Do you think they’re de la Pazes?”
Taking another long sip of her margarita, Roslyn seemed to think it over. “Must be,” she said, then reached for a tortilla chip. “Tucson is still part of their territory, right?”
“Well, I think we’re about to find out,” Danica said in an undertone. “Because they’re getting up and coming over here.”
At once Roslyn abandoned her margarita and hastily rearranged her long honey-blonde hair so it draped gracefully over her shoulder. Caitlin forced herself not to react. Yes, from what she could tell in the dim bar, the guys were cute, but she wasn’t going to act like a complete moron just because they were headed in her direction.
As they approached, though, the wrongness she’d been feeling all day seemed to coil in the pit of her stomach, making even the few sips of margarita she’d had so far burn like acid. Not sure what she should do, she reached for her water and drank some of that, telling herself that she needed to calm down.
The trio of strange young men stopped a foot from their table. One of them stood slightly in front of the other two. He was extremely good-looking, with thick black hair and well-muscled arms. A tattoo of a snake wound itself around his throat.
“Hi,” he said. “We couldn’t help noticing — ”
“Neither could we,” Danica said in that casual yet take-charge way of hers. “We’re not trespassing on your territory or anything, though. Our families checked with Maya de la Paz, and she said it was fine — ”
“Whoa,” the stranger cut in. “We’re not here to check your credentials or anything. It’s just that we hadn’t seen you before. You from up north?”