Chapter 9
The sound of shattering glass jolted Calise awake. She threw on a T-shirt, shorts, and shoes and rushed to the source of the noise. She slowed to a walk when she saw a man, disheveled and wild-eyed, shuffling around in shards of broken glass outside Ron and Anna’s bungalow.
Lucas?
The picture window on the front of the bungalow had been smashed from the inside, but he didn’t appear to have a cut on him. Careful to avoid stepping on the glass that glittered like hundreds of knife tips on the ground, she made her way over to Lucas, who muttered incoherently to himself and paid her no attention whatsoever. “What happened? Are you all right?” She shook his arm to get his attention.
He sank into her arms and embraced her. “Your hair smells like strawberries,” he murmured, pulling her tight against him.
“Suave.” She thought the comment odd, but savored his need for her. His muscular body held her close in a bear-like hug, warm and protective. His breathing was labored. “Lucas, where’s Anna?”
His body tensed and he pulled away.
“Carmen—the restaurant is on fire. I have to go.” His dazed look fell away, replaced by a ripple of worry and a crisp sense of purpose.
“I’ll come with you,” she insisted.
“No,” he said. He whistled and a commanding horse appeared from behind the barn. “It’s safer for you here.”
“With Anna, the demon?”
“You do know? But Carmen said—”
She cut him off. “I talked to Carmen at the restaurant last night. She told me everything.”
His eyes widened.
“That’s right. I know Anna is a demon, and you’re in danger. Now quit wasting time, if there’s trouble at Carmen’s, she needs us. Both of us.” Damn, I’m even convincing myself.
With a quick nod and a hint of a smile, he said, “Fine. Gotzone, bow.” The majestic animal picked up its left leg, bent it at the knee, and descended.
Calise grabbed a chunk of mane and swung her leg over. The horse rose. With a jump, Lucas was on behind her, kicking the horse into a trot. She hung on tight with her inner thighs as the horse cantered to Carmen’s restaurant, kicking up dirt and creating a wind that blew in her face. All she could think about, though, was the breathtaking man behind her.
The reeking odor of wet smoke hit them even before they dismounted at Carmen’s restaurant. Dozens of locals helped with the blaze, including Ron. The damage appeared minimal, even though trails of smoke still rose from a few spots. A growing pile of debris sat by the road. Lucas dismounted, and Calise swung her leg over the horse and slid off on her stomach. Powerful hands caught her beneath her arms and set her gently on the ground. He turned her around to face him. He was so close that she could see that his eyes were chocolate brown, like the earth at their feet. She felt his warm breath on her face.
He placed a tender hand on her cheek. “What is it that you think you can do to help us, seer?”
Melting under his protective bulk and trying not to close her eyes and lean into his hand, Calise absorbed the word.
Seer.
Calm washed over her. The dark door blocking the light in her mind just unlocked. All she needed to do was open the door. She removed his hand from her cheek and held it in hers. Raising one indignant eyebrow, she said, “You wait, Lucas Rojas, I might surprise you.”
She turned and approached Ron and some Ticos but felt Lucas’s lingering eyes on her back. “Can I help?” She glanced at Lucas, who shook his head and smirked. She picked up a towel and began to clean. Carmen threw her hands up when she saw Lucas, then launched into a tirade in Spanish before they huddled together and disappeared.
If Ron is here helping Carmen, and Lucas wasn’t the one thrown through the window, where is Anna?
The entire day she kept busy cleaning and removing garbage from the fire. The fire had affected the back wall of the restaurant that would have to be rebuilt. Luckily, the fire was contained before it did serious damage. Plates of food were brought out for everyone when the kitchen resumed operations. Lucas worked the oven and produced pizza after pizza for the work crew. Hours later, when everything had calmed down and the people went home with thank-yous from Carmen, the three of them slumped down at a table and Lucas’s aunt lit a cigarette with shaky hands.
Calise felt like an intruder, watching their unspoken communication. Lucas’s head hung low. Stogey gnawed at a bone under the table and seemed quite content. Carmen looked utterly exhausted and defeated. They spoke cryptically in front of Calise.
“I’m glad this is over.” Carmen inhaled deeply then exhaled, letting the cigarette smoke mix with the last wisps of the fire.
Is she talking about the fire or Anna’s mysterious disappearance?
“Is it?” Lucas countered.
“Unless we hear otherwise. Calise, dear, thank you again for all of your help today.”
Calise stirred her mojito with her fingertip. “It’s no problem at all. I do have one question. What’s a seer?”
****
Lucas said nothing. How could he?
Carmen kicked him under the table, hard.
“Spill it, you two. You…” Calise pointed to Lucas. “…called me a seer. And you…” She redirected accusation to Carmen, “…didn’t bat an eyelash when I asked if Anna was some kind of demon. Tell me what’s going on around here.”
Crickets.
Lucas looked at Carmen, who appeared quite comfortable with the silence.
Calise continued, aiming her speech at Lucas, who couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her in his bed and by his side tomorrow and the next day and the next…
“—always felt like I was different. I can sense things around people, and I can feel it before they even arrive sometimes.”
Carmen held up her hand. “Wait. You say you can’t see demons, but you sense evil, even before it arrives. Tell us what you mean.” She nudged her nephew again under the table.
Lucas followed her meaning. She thought they could use Calise to give them advance warning. Before Calise could utter another word, he turned to Carmen. “Stop right there. She leaves in a few days, and everything is fine right now. Don’t you dare drag her into our mess.” He realized that now his index finger was pointed at Carmen as he rose off the seat of his chair.
“Lucas, don’t try to protect me. I can handle it,” Calise said.
“No you can’t! I won’t allow it. If anything happened to you because of us—
Carmen grabbed his upper arm. “Shh, sobrino. Calise, escúchame.” Listen to me. “Angels and demons are real. Our family can see them. We’ve been fighting them for centuries. Demons, like Anna, will erase anyone that exposes them or try to pass them off to society as if they’re crazy. What you sense is a very dilute form of what we are. Most dilutes ignore their feelings and for you to stay alive, you must bury your feelings and never betray what you know. Or they will come after you, too.”
Lucas closed his mouth. Never had his aunt spoken this freely with anyone. Calise was now forever in danger because of these words and because of him. He swallowed the fear that rose from his gut.
“Gracias, Carmen. All I asked for was the truth. I promise you I can handle this.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Lucas muttered thinking about the past.
“Is Anna gone? Is it safe for me to go back to the lodge?”
“We believe she is no longer a threat to us. Lucas, you have a few days before she leaves. Spend all the time you can with her. Teach her how to protect herself.”
****
On the walk to her bungalow, Lucas wished that they could continue walking—and walk away from Mal Pais, away from demons, and into the sunset of a beautiful, normal life. When they reached her door, he said the only thing he could, “I’m sorry.”
Calise turned and the most gorgeous smile lit her face in the moonlight. “I’m not.”
He stomped home, reliving, for the millionth time, his last night in Salina, Kansas.
****
He’d wanted to go to college, but ever since his mom’s murder, he didn’t want to leave his father alone or put him in an institution. Turning the key, he stepped inside his brick two-story childhood home. The green shag carpet smelled like urine, and his father sat catatonic in his usual brown velour recliner staring at the television.
“Becca, I’m home. I’ll make some mac and cheese if you want to come down,” he yelled up the oak staircase littered with mail and unread newspapers. One time he’d slept with his girlfriend. But that’s all it took. He transferred the sight and got her pregnant. After realizing her birth parents were demons, she’d moved in with Lucas and hadn’t left his bedroom in months. Her escalating paranoia kept her imprisoned, and Lucas could only blame himself. Being a caregiver for his dad and Becca weighed more heavily on him than the fact every demon on earth wanted him dead—heavy shit for a high school kid.
He took a dirty pot from the sink and rinsed out the remnants of last night’s soup then put water on to boil. Becca was convinced their child would be born a demon, like her parents. He couldn’t make her believe that just because her parents were demons, it didn’t make her, or their unborn child, evil. But he couldn’t lie to her either—anyone and any combination of parents could give birth to a human, angel, or a demon. One never knew.
While the water was heating, Lucas wound the cuckoo clocks in the living room. The overlapping ticking of the dozens of clocks his father refurbished seemed to mark the passing seconds of his life. He worked his way around the room, carefully resetting the proper time on each one.
After he boiled and strained the macaroni, he added the cheesy, orange powder, a generous pour of milk and dollop of butter. He stirred it up and made a bowl for his dad. “Becca, come eat.” She didn’t answer. She’d rarely left her bed since she’d sunk into a deep depression late in her second trimester. He spooned out another bowl to take up to her after his father ate.
“How are you doing tonight, Pops?” No response. “Open sesame.” He imagined his father making airplane noises for him when he was a baby in a high chair. Now, his dad could open his mouth for food and be led to the bathroom, but nothing else. What a waste. His dad’s personal hell must have been like a screaming war in his mind. Lucas’s chest tightened; he was exhausted from this life.
Estevan Rojas was a shell of the father who’d trained him almost from birth to fight demons. They’d practiced throwing knives for hours each week: first at the plywood board in the backyard, then trying to hit pumpkins from twenty yards, and finally graduating to moving targets. He’d showed Lucas how to predict a demon’s next move—anticipate and intercept. His father said that honed, this was a seer’s best weapon and the greatest lesson he could teach his son. The weapons training and hand-to-hand combat training were a routine part of life at the Rojas household—a routine Lucas had embraced and been eager to use. Until his first real fight.
An odd squeaking noise came from upstairs. He put his dad’s spoon down and rushed to the staircase. “Becca?” He took the steps two at a time and whipped open the door to his room.
She hung from the fan, her weight placing an unnatural strain on the fan’s circular movement. The fan’s motor wheezed like an asthmatic at the top of a staircase.
“Oh God, no!” Lucas rushed to her side and tried to lift her up, hoping there was still a chance. “You did not do this! You did not do this to me—to, our baby…” He shut off the fan and managed to lower her body. Tears streamed down his face and blurred his vision. He placed her gingerly on his bed. No pulse. His mind collapsed with his body, and he crawled onto the bed next to her and wept, rubbing her round belly and apologizing over and over to his unborn—never to be born—child.
What must have been hours later, Lucas got up from the bed and wiped his eyes. He’d never forgive himself, or let anyone get close to him again. He was done with his goddamn life. He would run far enough away never to see another angel or demon again. To hell with his parents’ fight. It was no longer his. Lucas covered his girlfriend with a blanket and packed a small duffel bag. He kissed Becca once more on her cold, blue lips.
He knew of only one place to go. Mal Pais.
When Lucas came downstairs with his bag, he walked over and knelt down next to the shell of a man that he once knew as his father, who still sat in the same spot, unmoved. Lucas finished feeding him. “Dad, I’m leaving. They’re dead,” he said, choking back a sob. “I’m taking your necklace.” He removed it from his father’s neck and placed it over his head so it lay next to the one he wore from his mother. “I hope I never have to use them, but I’m not taking any chances because we both know, they’ll hunt me.” He looked into his father’s empty eyes. “I’m so sorry about mom and about what they’ll find upstairs. I’m sorry about where they’ll put you.” At least with his father’s psyche lost, demons wouldn’t hurt him.
“But you did this to our family, Dad. Do you hear me? Why couldn’t we ignore what was going on around us? Everyone else does. Good-bye.” Lucas picked up the phone. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. He dialed 9-1-1. “This is 410 Maple Street. A woman upstairs has committed suicide, and the man downstairs needs psychiatric help.” Click. He turned to leave when he heard his dad rustling.
“You can’t escape. They’ll find you.” The voice was barely a whisper.
“The police will be here soon, Dad. I’m sure you’ll go to a nice psychiatric hospital where no one will believe a word you say. Don’t worry about me. I will escape.” He walked back over and hugged his dad. “I love you.”
Lucas clicked on the porch light, left the front door wide open, and walked away.
****
Calise knew if she packed her bags and left in the morning she’d be leaving Costa Rica with more than enough of her questions answered. But leaving Lucas was not an option. A few more days. Days she’d spend every possible moment with him.
But she didn’t want to train with him. She wanted to be near him, hear his voice, and let every aspect of him soak into her soul. She was falling in love with him. Her rational mind lost the battle with her heart.