NATURAL LIGHT OF THE MORNING sun flowed through the open window with a gentle breeze. Sylvia was rinsing off the last dish before setting in the machine. She gasped catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, I wanted to see how you were doing.” Said Santiago.
“I’m okay.” She closed the machine setting it to start, she held up her palms for inspection. “Not even a scar.”
Santiago’s expression remained unchanged. “I should have stopped while I was ahead.”
Sylvia hated that he blamed himself for what happened. She was the one who made the dumb mistake.
Making her way around the granite top kitchen island as she wiped the already clean surface down to avoid his gaze. She didn’t blame him for what happened.
He looked so happy when he finally made some progress. Those mossy eyes alight with a spark of joy that was a rare sight since his arrival. She believed if they could push through it would have been fine. Neither one of them could have known they were going to trip a binding spell.
“You couldn’t know that was going to happen.” She set the rag aside, her voice soft as she tried to console him, “You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.”
“At least let me make it up to you.”
“You really don’t have to.”
He held out his arms. “Whatever you want, wherever you want to go.”
Sylvia could not help the hint of a smile that pulled at her face. “I don’t even know any places to go. I’m from Florida, I’ve only ever been around town.”
“Florida?” He raised a brow, “You’re kinda chalky to be from the sunshine state.”
“Screw you, I don’t tan well okay.” She slaps his arm playfully, withdrawing her hand quickly from the firmness of his bicep. Quickly turning up her nose and looking away to feign offense and hide the redness in her face.
“Can’t relate.” He smirked.
“Must be nice to have beautiful sun kissed bronze skin.”
He pinched her cheek, “Aw thank you, I’m sure you’re an adorable little freckled lobster.”
She slapped his hand away. “You’re the worst!”
“I feel like you really get me.”
She laughed, “If I had to pick anything, I would like to go to a real mall. I am missing shopping.”
“Wal-Mart chic is not doing it for you, unbelievable.” He replied, motioning her along. “Alright, we’ll hit the mall.”
“Like right now?”
“Yeah, like right now. Somewhere you gotta be?”
“No.” She sputtered. There was not. It was just so sudden. Though it didn’t really matter. She could stay home and do the usual nothing she already did or go out and have fun.
“Then come on.” He said.
Sylvia sipped on the taro boba tea. Each sip of the purple blend was sweet and creamy. The entrance was paved with sleek marble leading up to the spacious atrium bathed in natural light streaming through the large glass ceilings. The hum of shoppers and soft background music fill the air, blending harmoniously with the sounds of laughter and conversation.
Clean lines and polished surfaces were integral to the design of the modern mall. Walls not occupied with ads displayed contemporary artwork. DIgital displays provided a visual feast for the scads of people milling through the structure.
Central walkways were wide and well maintained, lined with upscale boutiques, designer stores, and renowned fashion brands. Display windows showcase the latest fashion trends to entice passersby with elegant mannequins dressed in exquisite and expensive garments.
Santiago followed a few steps behind her with a handful of bags swaying by his side. He insisted on carrying them for her. She was waiting for him to start huffing and puffing with boredom in the ways that boys always do on her long shopping hauls.
She was in her element. For the first time in a while since she had come out here, she felt some semblance of normalcy.
Skylar was not exactly a mall crawler and Mia did not want anything to do with anything outside of a bookstore. They were a far cry from her girls back in Miami. They were solitary gals which she respected.
Sylvia definitely was not and she was in desperate need for human interaction outside of the solemn witches that floated about the manor like ghosts.
Santiago was not much of a talker though he was a good listener.
She honestly thought he was not paying attention. Whenever she piped down thinking she bored him he would chime in with questions.
She considered calling it quits. She started to feel a bit bad to have dragged him around. She had money to pay for things still he insisted on footing the bill. Sylvia wondered where the line of accepting generosity and flat out using someone for money was.
Did not help her cause with the audible gasp she let out as they passed the Chanel store. It would not do any harm to look at a few things.
The most she had ever bought from here was a perfume. Sylvia liked to come in, browse some of the looks, and try to recreate it with far more affordable options.
Turning over the golden cage Chanel purse in her hands she admired the adorable piece shaped like a heart. Setting it back down she could not even bring herself to look at the price tag.
“You want, get it.” Santiago said.
“You’re crazy, it’s so expensive.”
“Yeah, it's a designer bag. They don’t tend to come cheap.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” One of the staff approached them with a tight smile. She looked over the boy with barely concealed distaste.
“No, we’re just leaving.” Sylvia snapped at the woman.
“But first can you ring up the bag for us ma’am.” Said Santiago politely extended the purse towards the woman.
“You’re going to pay for this.” The woman replied disbelievingly.
“Yes, I am.”
Sylvia waited for him to say it was some kind of joke.
They approached the counter and her eyes almost fell out of her head when the woman rang them up as he asked.
How far would he take this gag?
Santiago did not pull out his wallet this time. He dug into one of the many pockets of his olive green sweat pants and pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills.
Both her and the clerk's jaw dropped.
The woman did a double take looking him over once squinting at his jacket before she flipped like a switch to the bubbly sales attendant.
She simply watched as he dealt with the lady up at the counter taking a moment to really look at the boy. At first glance he absolutely was not someone who looked like he had that kind of money. Sylvia was no better.
Yet as she looked at him now in one of his many oversized jackets down to his plain black sneakers she realized he was hiding that wealth in plain sight. She was not as savvy with men’s fashion as she was with women but the Rick Owens sneakers were quite popular when they first hit the scene.
As they left the store she squinted as well at the small metal patch sewed into the breast of the sweater. Half the time it was never visible with how loosely it laid over itself. There it was a whole miniature placard with the Dolce & Gabbana logo.
Sylvia walked out with the bag hung from her shoulder still dumbfounded by what happened.
“You’re crazy. You’re absolutely crazy.”
“You wanted the bag.” He said simply.
“I want a lot of things, that doesn’t mean I can get all of them. Where in the hell did you get all that money?” She whispered leaning in.
“I worked hard.” He replied coyly.
“Doing what?”
“A little of this, a little of that.” Santiago shrugged, “Had to keep the lights on. Ma, was never good at holding down a job.”
“You take care of your mom.” She smiled softly.
“I did, yeah.” He bowed his head, “For all the good it did.”
“How do you mean?”
“She’s dead.” He replied simply not even skipping a step as he passed.
Sylvia stopped. Watched him march ahead before she hurriedly rushed to his side as he left out the entrance to the parking garage.. A cold wave hit her like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her head.
“What? I thought you were going to go home.” Her voice echoed loudly in the open carport.
“So did I. Rosenia didn’t want to tell me that wasn’t gonna happen.”
“She let you think she was still alive.” Sylvia gaped, “I can’t believe she would do that.”
“I don’t blame her. People look at me like a ticking time bomb. She probably thought I’d snap and hurt someone.”
Santiago really believed that.
He was rough around the edges to be sure. Yet, from all Sylvia had seen of him he was a good person. While he was not a warm and welcoming personality, he was incredibly kind. “No, you’re not like that.”
“Aren’t I though? That’s what got me here, it’s what got my mom killed.” Santiago’s jaw tightened, “I lose my shit and people get hurt. I wish I would have stayed dead.”
Wide eyed she froze as she stared at his back, unsure of what to say or do.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
What could she say? She did not know him. Or the depth of the loss he felt. There was so much pain bubbling under the surface it was palpable in the air like a thick miasma threatening to smother him.
Her hands trembled as she reached for him. Delicate fingers brushed the palms of his clenched fist.
At her touch he loosened his grasp to let the girl entwine her fingers with his.
With her free hand she reached up to cup his face gently turning him to face her.
She burst into tears before he did.
How could she not? Looking into the face of a boy whose only hope of returning home had fallen apart. It felt like a knife in the chest to know she could do nothing to make it better.
His hand gripped hers tightly, head bowed to rest on her shoulder as he wept. “I can’t— I can’t do this without her.”
A strong arm pulled her closer and his whole body shook.
She cried with him. She cried for him. Until neither one had any more tears left to shed. Until her hand ached in his grasp.
Sylvia sniffled, wiping at the wetness on her cheeks, frowned as she looked at him.
Santiago stared at her for a long moment before he snorted and looked away.
“What?!” Sylvia gasped, scuttling over to a rearview mirror of a nearby car. Eyes red and puffy from crying matched her blotchy red face that peeked out from the foundation that had muddy black mascara trails down past her chin. She stamped her feet as she wailed at him, “Santiago! How dare you! I cried for you and you laugh at me. I look like a drowned rat!”
Santiago had his back to her resting his head against a concrete pillar. He was trying so hard to hold himself together but the thought of how ridiculous she looked sent him into near hysterics. “I’m sorry— I can’t.”
They walked in silence until they reached the street. Sylvia's face puffed in a pout as after she managed to scrub off what she could in the mall restroom. The redness had moved from her face to her ears.
Syliva would get him back. No matter how long it took she would plot ways to get back at him for his mockery.
“That would probably go better if you didn’t announce your plans.” Santiago said.
“Hush! You do not get to listen to my evil monologue. You are my villain origin story, you bastard.” She bared her teeth at him.
He stifled a chuckle.
“Stop thinking about my face!”
Santiago cackled as the girl swatted his arm until she stood huffing and puffing. “You done.”
She glared at him smacking him one last time. “Hmph, now I’m done.”
She stalked off looking quite proud of herself. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was mostly striking layers of fabric.
After she got her tantrum out of her system Sylvia was back to her usual bubbly self. Rambling on about the time she tried to go blonde and half her hair fell out. She had not really been paying attention where they were walking as she did not know her own way around.
They came to a stop at the bus station near the Mayden parking garage. The sprawling apartment complex was a block chain of brick red and white. Nestled beneath it was a corner store and coffee shop that left the air with a lingering hit of coffee grounds. The brick sidewalk was lined with shrub gardens each with a tree that was varying shades of yellow and orange.
“Hey, we’re gonna need to take a raincheck on lunch. You head back home.” Santiago handed her the bags before she could protest. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Wha— Hey!” Syliva stamped her foot, “What the hell.”
She watched him vanish through the crowd. In a huff she sat on the streetcar bench and when it arrived planted herself in a seat.
----------------------------------------
When Thompson had said he was able to set up a meeting with the mysterious Eliana Calaveras none of them knew what to expect. Rosenia had dismissed the idea entirely saying that the wicked woman would doubtful even show up and was more likely to send some manner of henchmen in her stead. Thompson was insistent they should handle this by the book. The evidence they had was circumstantial, nothing they could take to the police.
Bennett simply paid attention. People say plenty about themselves without ever speaking a word.
Rosenia, a wise and proud woman, carried herself with grace. Swathed in vibrant robes and intricate jewelry of her Romani heritage. Her soft features held a gentle warmth yet there were moments when her dark eyes were hard like obsidian. The type of woman people often mistook kindness for weakness at their own peril.
Thompson was intelligent and painfully optimistic. His obtuse dedication to everything he threw himself into was apparent in his piety and encyclopedic-like knowledge of psychology and sociology. It was obvious overcompensation for his lack of acknowledgement growing up. He had a need to prove himself to who or why was an answer only Thompson could give. For all his prying into other peoples past the man never once mentioned a single relative in all the time Bennett had known him.
An unlikely pair and weirder still when you parked the burly war vet between the two of them. Even Thompson in his neatly pressed suit looked out of place in the lobby of the five-star hotel.
Sleek paneled floors in neutral shades of gray and brown stone tiling the gloss so pristine the wide hall was mirrored in it. A gas fireplace was recessed behind a plush leather setting. The two concierges in their navy blazers perched behind the marble desk welcomed them with equally gleaming white smiles.
“We’re here to meet with Ms. Calaveras.” Said Thompson softly as though someone in the empty lobby might hear.
The girl with the neatly pinned bun hopped to her feet, “Right this way. I’ll take you to the Maple room.”
The elevator hardly made a sound before depositing them on the second floor. A small hall behind which were numerous doors. They were led to the right, stopping before two double doors.
Two men about the size and stature of Bennett waited silently outside. They did not look at them or say a word. The only acknowledgement of their presences was when they each took a handle and opened the doors for the party to pass through.
Gracefully illuminated by sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window the room was spacious along one wall, a banquet table laden with pastries and a colorful array of fruit. An attendant stood at the ready beside a cart loaded with ice buckets and bottles of everything from sparkling cider to champagne. A table was centered with one occupant seated facing them.
Eliana sat with a practiced poise, her amber gaze followed them with the same bored intrigue a tiger would have for a mouse. Heavy earrings matched the thick gold collar embellished with turquoise, chains hung between the slope of her breast coiled around a gleaming gem. A delicate hand cradled the slender stem of her champagne flute.
“Please, have a seat.” With a sweeping motion of a manicured hand three chairs turned away from the table, she snapped her fingers pointedly.
The attendant hurried over, “What can I get you to drink?”
“Lemonade is fine.” Bennett said with a polite nod. The girl filled his glass with the pitcher.
Rosenia simply raised a hand in a gentle declination.
“Oh, um—” Thompson smiled bashfully, grateful for his deep complexion hiding the scarlet flush. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
“Demi-Sec. Get him the tiramisu, they pair beautifully.” Eliana peachy painted lips pulled into a sly smile.
When the attendant fluttered off back to her station across the room, silence fell once more.
Eliana gave each a measured once over before her sharply lined eyes fell on the elder witch. “Rosenia, you’ve aged.”
Rosenia's withdrawn expression did not falter as she stared down the woman across the table. “Why have you come here Eliana?”
“I despise when people ask questions they already know the answers to. It is a waste of your time and more importantly mine.” Eliana said.
Rosenia and Eliana had a history that was certain. Rosenia had given little details but made no efforts to hide her disdain. She did not trust her nor her motives behind wanting to take Santiago away.
“Why do you wish to take Santiago from his home?” Thompson said.
“Home?” She scoffed, “A curious word for that roach infested hovel that drunk druggie whore kept him penned in.”
Bennett's eyes widened, the malice behind those words spoke volumes. This was definitely personal for her. It made some modicum of sense given that Santiago’s father was raised in her home. He supposed he would have little love for the person that allowed the things that happened to the boy.
“You will not abscond with Santiago to lock him away in the Calaveras house.” Rosenia replied coldly.
“You make it sound like a prison.” Said Eliana.
“It may as well be given what it costs.” Rosenia said.
“You speak so confidently of things you know nothing of. The boy would know more freedom there than he ever had here. Dropped from one cage to another.” Eliana sneered, “At least I would offer him a choice which is more than I can say for you a lot.”
Rosenia bristled, “Don’t play the selfless savior this has never been about his well being.”
“I would never dream of stealing your cherished false face, Rosenia.” Eliana feigned being appalled, “You’re correct it was never about his well being it was about honoring Vicente’s wishes. Now that is no longer possible so I will bring Santiago back to the Calaveras home where he belongs.”
“He will never leave without his mother.” Said Thompson.
“I will deal with Guadalupe in due time.” She replied dourly.
“You will not harm—”
“Don’t presume to tell me what I will or will not do.” Eliana snapped acidly. “You have no place here hag. Mind your tongue.”
“Look, I don’t know what all this—” Bennett motioned broadly between the two women, “— Is and I really don’t care. I am here about Santiago because I do care about what happens to him. I don’t like the idea of handing him over to someone who murdered three people in cold blood and can sit here enjoying cakes like it’s fucking Sunday brunch.”
“Four.” Eliana said.
“What?” Said Bennett.
“Four including your friend I carved up like Thanksgiving dinner.” She smiled smugly.
Bennett’s jaw tightened as he glowered at the callous woman. She did not have a shred of remorse. Sean had simply been in the way like another piece of upended furniture. There was no way Santiago would be safe with her all it would take is one mood swing and his blood would be an inconvenient stain in her persian rugs.
“I’m sorry— Did you just admit to murdering four people.” Thompson gaped. “We have to report this—”
“To the police.” Eliana finished. “Those badged buffoons are only competent at catching the clap. One you will never find concrete evidence. Two even if I handed you the blade I used to kill the man you’d be dead before you could tap nine.”
Thompson’s jaw hung open as he stared at the woman. “You—You can’t—”
“You can rest easy, if I wanted you dead you’d be dead.” She replied simply. “What I want is very simple. I want to bring Santiago to the home he deserves away from this sordid mildewing hellscape his mother dragged him off to.”
“Why?” Said Bennett.
She was so adamant about wanting Santiago. Clearly she could have come for him any time. To wait until after he was dead and miraculously revived was strange. It was possible that she might not have known he had powers that were unlikely. If it was all about power then she could have simply stolen the boy when he was too young to fight or remember being taken.
“Because it’s what I should have done in the first place.” For the first time an emotion flickered behind those topaz eyes, “I digress, I was young and foolish. Santiago paid for that with his life. I intend to correct my mistakes.”
“You don’t know anything about the kid if you think he’s going to go along with this.” said Bennett.
Santiago was not a pushover. Powers or no he would not make it easy for anyone who tried to force him to do anything.
“I can be very convincing.” Eliana said.
“I take it you know how to fix the split that is happening with his powers.” Said Thompson eager to get the conversation back on track. Arguing about why was pointless. The woman made it clear what she wanted and what she was willing to do to get it. They needed answers.
“I do. It is not easy. It requires balance. Energy integration. Physical conditioning. Mental discipline.” Eliana held up her glass as the attendant tipped the bottle refilling it with the bubbling liquid.
“We could help with that.” Said Thompson.
“You’ve done a fine job of helping him thus far. He can barely handle normal issues, much less the battle of wills that will be gaining dominion over power that is centuries old.” Eliana laughed, her gaze falling pointedly at Rosenia, “Your training is going to cause the boy to lose himself entirely. You couldn’t even accurately identify his split. You’re losing your touch.”
“We are all here because in some capacity we want Santiago to have a better life than what he has up until now. Can we all agree on that?” Thompson looked pointedly around the table at the unamused faces.
“Yes.” Said Rosenia.
Bennett grunted.
Elina gave a nod.
“That is a common ground. We can build off of this. Work together—” Started Thompson.
“Absolutely not.” Rosenia snapped.
Thompson rubbed his temples, “Rosenia, please. This isn’t about us. Whatever personal vendetta you have, you can lay it to bed for his sake.”
“You cannot trust this woman.” Said Rosenia.
“Why?” Bennett replied curtly. He did not trust Eliana at all but he only mistrusted Rosenia slightly less. Rosenia was wise and knew much but shared very little. Bennett did not like that.
Rosenia sat silently turning away.
“Oh, don’t be shy, Rosenia, you can tell them the truth.” Eliana smiled, taking a long sip before setting down her empty glass. “I killed her daughter.”
Rosenia’s eyes flashed as her gaze spun back to Eliana.
“Wha—Why?” Thompson's voice cracked, he quickly drank down the contents of his own glass.
“You hope that she can mend Santiago’s split, she has already failed once before. Her daughter was consumed by her own powers and even then after all the carnage she unleashed she still couldn’t do what needed to be done.” Eliana stared back at the woman flatly, “So I did.”
Rosenia rose from the table and briskly stormed from the room.
“Always a pleasure Rose, I’ll see you soon.” Eliana called after the retreating woman.
Thompson tossed the cloth napkin on to the table trotting after the older woman. “Rosenia wait!”
Bennett sat for a lingering moment locking eyes with the woman across the table. “This is not going to end the way you think it is.”
Eliana rested her head in the palm of her hand, her eyes narrowed with the gleaming white grin that spread across her face. “It’s truly amusing that you believe that to be true.”