Bruja Born Read online

  His eyes snap up in my direction. He takes my face in his hands, and for the first time since I’ve known him, a pang of fear strikes my heart. “How can you ask me that? Of course, I do.”

  • • •

  I rush to the closet in our infirmary room, where we keep spare clothes for our patients, and grab a clean white shirt and sweatpants. Hopefully they’ll fit better than what he’s wearing now.

  As I make my way out of the infirmary and down the hall, my footsteps are heavy. There are too many questions floating around my head, too many things to do. So I focus on what I can handle right now. Get Maks clean. Make a calming draught. Get him fed.

  In my head, he’s old Maks. Playful Maks. Sweet Maks.

  “I smell like a Dumpster,” he says when I push open the bathroom door. He takes his clothes off and tosses them in a pile on the corner. “How can you be around me?”

  “This is nothing compared to the way you stink after you’ve been practicing for eight hours straight.” I get the water running for him because the knobs are old and reversed.

  “What the f—” he shouts. I look up to see him stare at his chest. “Where did all these scars come from?”

  I’m afraid he’s going to punch another hole in the wall. I don’t move. I look at him and tell him as much truth as he’ll be able to handle. “We had an accident. You keep forgetting.”

  But he doesn’t rage out. He wipes the steam from the mirror and looks at himself. “I can’t tell what’s a memory and what’s a dream. I’m sorry I scared you before.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, but my gut tells me it isn’t. “It’ll be okay.”

  He frowns, dark eyebrows knitting together. His fingers, cold and gentle, skim the scars on my cheek. “Was this from the accident too?”

  I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s been days since my last Bellaza Canto. I hold my hand over my scars.

  “No, Lula,” he says, taking my hands in his. He kisses my scarred knuckles. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’ve always loved your face. Still do.”

  When he talks like that, it’s easy for me to want to forget everything that happened, to want things to go back to the way they used to be for so long.

  But Maks’s skin has a dull paleness that worries me. I rest my hand on his shoulder, try not to wince at how cold he is. I can hardly breathe as my hand roams the muscles of his chest, searching, searching.

  I’ve found it—the whisper of his heartbeat, so faint it’s hardly there at all.

  • • •

  While Maks gets cleaned up, I work on a sleeping draught in the infirmary. It’s strange being in here, putting a potion together after avoiding it for months.

  The walls are papered with a green leaf pattern that looks newer than any part of our old house. Ma says it makes patients feel more at home. Alex thinks that the kind of folk who come to us for healing can’t get to a hospital anyway, so they won’t mind the faded paint in the rest of the house.

  The room is filled by an exam table, two twin beds for patients to sleep, and a giant altar dedicated to La Esperanza, Goddess of Sighs and All the World’s Goodness. I’ll find the ingredients I need against the wall with blackout curtains. The shelves are lined with jars in all shapes and sizes that contain ingredients from every corner of the world: the tears of an infant, the feathers of a blue jay, the eyes of coquis, the hair from a widow’s head, all alphabetized by Rose on one of the nights she couldn’t sleep.

  I turn on the electric kettle and get the jars I need. I scoop dried poppy leaves, chamomile oil, and fresh lavender into a tea pouch. I hold the tea and stand in front of the altar of La Esperanza. Fresh flowers in tall vases of water are set around her feet. Her dress is bright pink, and a crown of silver stars and lilacs rest on her pale-pink hair.

  I want to say something, a rezo to make up for all the prayers that have died on my lips, but it’s like the words are caught in my throat. So instead, I light one of the tea candles.

  La Muerte’s shadow voice echoes in my mind. You do not know what you’ve created—

  “Lula?” Maks shouts my name and I jump.

  I hear the rattle of the fence outside and go to the window. Rose is opening the gate so my mom can pull into the garage.

  I hurry out into the hall where Maks is shirtless, his black hair dripping water down his neck. The dirty clothes and towel are in a bundle in his hands. He holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the light in the hallway.

  “Come,” I say, trying to remain calm, though it’s not just for his sake now.

  The door downstairs opens, and I hear my sisters call my name. Alex shouts, “Lula! You better be home!”

  “I’m fine. I’m in my room!”

  I shut the door once Maks and I are inside. I hit the lights, leaving only my reading lamp on.

  He stares at every detail. The midnight-blue comforter and white pillows are undisturbed. The flowers at my bedside are long dead in their vase. Maks gave them to me a month ago, when he was trying to cheer me up and I simply couldn’t.

  I set the tea on the bedside table and close the curtains. I find a match and light some of the dusty candle stubs. My altar has never been this neglected. My first impulse is to clean it. I’ve offended the gods enough to last me a lifetime, if I even get a whole lifetime after this mess. Right now, all I care about is helping Maks. After all, the Deos abandoned me first.

  “Your parents don’t know I’m here?” he asks softly.

  I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”

  He stands behind me and wraps his hands around my waist. I flinch as his fingers graze the line of stitches on my belly. I breathe through the pain. After all the magic my family spent on me, they should be healed by now.

  “I can hide,” he whispers against my ear. “I think I could get used to you taking care of me.”

  I turn around in his arms and reach for the tea. “Start by drinking this. It’ll stop your headache and help you sleep.”

  He takes the mug from my hand but sets it back down on the nightstand. He walks across the length of my room and points to a map of the world pinned to the wall. I had this idea that I’d put a pin in every place I’ll travel to one day. But the only pin is in New York, the rest of the world untouched and foreign to me. Maks takes a pin from my desk. He stares at it for a little while.

  “Can I?” he asks.

  I stand next to him and place my hands on his hips and lean into him. He smells like soap and something I can’t quite place—something that shouldn’t be there. Smoke? Maybe it’s just from the matches I used to light the candles.

  He traces his finger from New York to Europe. His finger draws a few circles, like he’s searching and can’t quite find the place. Then, he lands on Kiev, Ukraine, and pushes the pin.

  “My mom took me once,” he says. “When my grandmother passed away. She was one hundred and ten years old. The oldest woman in her village.”

  He’s told me this story before, but I smile and say, “That’s amazing.”

  “I have good genes.” He pushes his shoulder against mine and smirks. “I bet I’ll live until I’m one hundred and ten, like her.”

  But you didn’t, I think, and a pain tugs at my belly.

  “Maks,” I start to say. I have to try to explain to him everything that’s happened. That way we can get some answers together. I know my family will be upset, but Alex will understand. She has to.

  There’s a hard knock on the door. I feel Maks tense all over.

  Speaking of El Pain in My Neck, Alex yells from the other side of my door. “Lula, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Maks twitches, like the thud of her fist is causing him physical pain. I try to soothe him, running my hands along his arms. He shuts his eyes and shoves me away. He loses his own balance in the process and ends up falling against the closet d
oor with a loud thud.

  “Lula? Are you okay?” Alex jostles the locked doorknob. “What happened to the wall downstairs?”

  “I was working out anger issues,” I shout. “Leave me alone.”

  “My head,” Maks says through gritted teeth.

  “Close your eyes,” I whisper. I brush my lips along his temple, his ear, his jaw. I brush his hair back and murmur soft sounds to try to calm him down. The calming potion.

  I pick up the cup and bring it to his lips. “It tastes a little weird but it’ll help you sleep.”

  “Lula!”

  “This is disgusting.” Maks gags and spits on the floor.

  “I know, baby.” I brush his hair back. I gently tap my finger on his temple. “But it’ll help you. I promise.”

  He nods and drains the cup. He starts to stumble, the draught taking effect instantly. I guide him to my bed to break his fall, then pull back the covers so he can get in. He crawls in, then reaches for me.

  “Lula, Lula.” His breath is quick and fluttering. He holds my hand and squeezes so hard I’m afraid he’ll crush my bones. “Don’t go. Leave that light on, please.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here.” I rest my head on his chest. His skin is so cold, colder than Rose. When his whistling breath signals he’s asleep, I pull off the arm wrapped around my waist. I have to get Alex.

  But when I sit up and turn around, she’s standing in the doorway, a look of terror on her face.

  “Oh, my Lula. What have you done?”

  12

  La Esperanza hides in the recesses of the soul,

  where no one thinks to search.

  —Rezo for La Esperanza, Goddess of Sighs and All the World’s Goodness, Book of Deos

  “Let me explain,” I say.

  I slap my hand over her mouth to muffle her argument, shutting the door behind us. She tries to mumble through my hand but can’t, and finally, she bites me.

  I swear loudly. Her eyes go wide, flicking behind me. I turn around as Maks stirs in his sleep. He kicks at the comforter and calls out for me again.

  “Yeah, explain away, Lula. Because you have no idea what’s going through my head right now.” Alex holds her hands out as if she’s reaching to choke me. The shadows of my room cut across her face. In this moment I am both relieved that I’ve been caught and terrified of what she’ll do.

  “I felt this pain right here,” I say, pressing my fingers to my chest. “These threads appeared right over my heart. Dozens of them. One of them glowed the brightest.”

  “Lula, we—”

  “You said to explain,” I say softly. “So let me. After that you can yell at me some more.”

  “Don’t worry. That’s coming.” Her hands are at her hips and she makes the same face our mother makes when she’s pissed off, all wide eyes and pursed lips.

  “At first I thought I was the one who was following the sensation. But when the pain got stronger, I realized that it was reeling me in. I got on the train and then Lady de la Muerte appeared—”

  “Stop,” Alex says, digging her fingers through her hair. “I said I wouldn’t interrupt but I need a second to process this.”

  I wish she could see what I saw. Then the skepticism that steels her stare might become something like understanding.

  “Try actually seeing the Dea of Death possessing a human body. It was awful. It was like she filled his whole being with her essence. His neck just snapped from it. After she spoke to me, I ran and the thread led me to Maks. I didn’t know I’d find him there, but, Lula—our canto. It must’ve worked, right? I felt his pulse. He doesn’t remember the accident, but it’s him.”

  Now I’m the one pacing. Every step aches, like there are splinters inside my bones, so I lower myself to the floor and sit. Alex sits down with me, her eyes never leaving Maks, even though he’s stopped moving.

  “We did it,” I tell her. “Somehow, we saved him.”

  “Then where did he go? Where did the others go?”

  A sickness creeps along my skin. I’ve been so consumed with Maks that I didn’t stop to consider the others. “I don’t know.”

  Alex takes a steadying breath. I’d pay anything to be able to read her mind. “What did Lady de la Muerte say when she spoke to you?”

  When I think of Lady de la Muerte, a dull ache spreads across my chest. Not because of what I saw her do and not because I’m afraid she’s going to do that to me, but because I felt her pain of being stuck in between realms. It was how I felt in Los Lagos, in the Tree of Souls.

  “She told me to find her spear. That I betrayed her.”

  When Alex was little, she bottled up her emotions so tight it caused her to hide her power deep down. Now, her magic glides on her skin. She pushes a pulse of it up my arm, and in that moment, I feel what she’s feeling—afraid. Anxious. Helpless.

  “We betrayed her,” Alex says. “You didn’t do this alone. But how do we find her spear?”

  “I don’t know! She slithered out of the body before she could tell me. He died right in front of me.”

  “We have to tell Ma,” she says. “Of all the Deos, Lady de la Muerte is the one we know the least about.”

  I snatch my hand back. “Telling Ma is not an option.”

  Alex grabs hold of my shoulders. “Don’t you see? We trapped a goddess in between worlds. We’ve broken the balance of life and death. Maks didn’t just wake up and walk out of that hospital after our canto. He died. I saw him flatline. Whatever is happening is beyond the reach of two brujas. We need help. La Muerte needs to be freed. What if failing means we lose you?”

  “Alex, please. Ma will bring the High Circle into this. What if they want to hurt him?”

  “You might not want to hear this,” she says quietly, “but he doesn’t belong here.”

  “Well, he is here. We have to help him.”

  “We have to free La Muerte.” She looks at me so sternly I cower. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll find something—”

  “It has to be me,” I whisper.

  “I’m the reason this happened.”

  My laugh is bitter, but I can’t stop it. “You wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t guilted you.”

  “I would have,” she says, and though her voice is hard, there’s a crack at the end. “Because you’re my sister. You might be a pain in the ass, but you and Rose are all I’ve got. I’d do anything for you.”

  She gives me her cheek and I wonder why everyone in my family does this—tries to act as if nothing hurts us. All that power coursing through my little sister’s veins and she still doesn’t want me to see her crying.

  “We’ve all made selfish choices. But you can’t play with death like this, Lula. Keeping Maks here won’t make things go back to how they used to be. Nothing will because we aren’t the same girls we were once, and that’s my fault. But we can get through this together, just like you and Rose and Ma did for me. Just like we’re trying to do for Dad.”

  My eyes burn and I choke on a sob as she holds me until it passes.

  “What do we do? Alex, I don’t know what to do.”

  We watch Maks turn fitfully in sleep for a few moments. Alex stares like she’s expecting him to wake up and attack us. I tell her about his outbursts and how sometimes he’s there and sometimes he’s not.

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep him here?” she asks.

  “Where else can I take him?” I try to stand, but my leg muscles cramp. Alex helps me up.

  “Okay,” Alex says, pacing once more. Candlelight plays with her shadow, making her look taller and longer than she already is. “First, you should make more of the calming draught. Dilute it so that it doesn’t give him the sleeping side effect. We can study him.”

  “He’s not a lab rat,” I counter.

  “I’m not saying he is.
But we have to figure out what triggers his violent outbursts. How are you going to explain the hole in the wall to Mom and Dad, by the way?”

  I press my hand over my rapid-beating heart. “I—I don’t know.”

  “Forget it. You make the potion. I’ll look through mom’s books to see what I can find about La Muerte’s spear. The last bit will require help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “Well, we have to figure out what he is.”

  “He’s Maks. I’m telling you. You’ll see when he wakes up.”

  “He may have a heartbeat, but normal people don’t vanish from one place and appear in another. Whatever he is, we need to know. And the only person we can trust who knows about spirits is—”

  There’s a quiet knock on the door. Her soft voice filters from the other side. “It’s Rose.”

  “I was just going to get you,” Alex says as she opens the door.

  Rose walks in. She looks at Maks but doesn’t have the same reaction that Alex did. Her fine, straight hair is loose over her shoulders. Her face is calm, as if it’s every day I have my formerly deceased boyfriend sleeping in my bed.

  “It’s not what you think,” I tell her.

  One corner of her mouth quirks. “I think I finally found the reason my head feels like it’s being hit with a sledgehammer.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  She sighs, as if I’m missing the obvious. “My power isn’t like yours or Alex’s. It’s linked to spirits. When we were in the hospital, it was the worst, which isn’t surprising. But when we came home, it still bothered me. I thought it might be residual. I was listening to what you were saying—”

  “You were listening?” Alex asks, her voice louder.

  “What else is there to do in this house?” Rose rolls her eyes. “I’ve been eavesdropping on you guys for years. Anyway, when a person and their spirit are aligned, everything is copacetic. One of the reasons that I can hear spirits is because the alignment is gone. They’re detached from their body. Most spirits move on to the next life. I don’t hear from them. The ones that don’t move on make the most noise. They’re calling out for something that they’ve lost.”