We both know it may be a lie, that there’s no way I can be sure of that. She sucks in a shuddery breath.
“I know. I know that. It’s just—” She pulls back, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. She gives a self-conscious laugh. “I worry about you, you know? I know it’s been only a little while since I’ve become your legal guardian, but I just feel like in that time I’ve become sort of, you know…”
“Like a second mom,” I finish. She gives me a weak smile. I pull her into a hug again. “I love you, Aunt Penny.”
“And I love you,” she whispers. “Your mom would have been so proud of you.”
I feel my breath hitch in my chest. We hold each other for so long that Bishop clears his throat. We break the hug.
“We better get going,” I say. “It’s getting late.”
“Just one last thing.” She disappears into the kitchen and comes back a moment later. She shoves a handful of bills into my hands.
“What’s this?”
“I want to pay for it. No more taking money out of your college savings for these trips.”
“You knew?” I ask, heat staining my cheeks.
“I knew that you were using it for something,” she says. “I kind of hoped it was for booze and drugs.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Why didn’t you say something? I can’t take this. It’s too much.” I push the money back toward her, but she shoves it at me again.
“Just take it. You’re going to need your college fund for when you actually go to college. And besides, we do know a warlock who can conjure more for you.”
Tears sting my eyes. I can tell how much this means to her—the physical symbol that I’m coming back—so I pull off my backpack and stuff the money inside. I stand, hiking the bag back over my shoulder.
She hesitates, and I know exactly what’s going through her mind before she can get a word out.
“There’s nothing more you can do,” I say. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about.”
She gives me a wan smile. “Just…come back safe, okay? And bring Paige with you.”
I smile at her. “I will.”
I turn to Jessie, who has been watching the whole thing from the stairs with her sleeves pulled down over her hands. Looking at this girl, who has done so much to help and on so little information, who has put herself out there even though I’ve done nothing but push her away, I can’t help but be reminded of Paige.
Chasing me around my house when we were kids, trying to get me to play dress-up with her. Jogging across the street at whatever ungodly hour it was that I interrupted her pajama party with Jessie, ready to help at the drop of a dime even though I’d been nothing but shitty to her for years. Looking up at me as Bishop flew with me in his arms, concern and fear stamped across her brow.
“Thank you,” I say now to Jessie.
And then I take one last look around my Mexican knickknack-littered house and engrave it in my memory. As much as Aunt Penny wants to believe I’m coming back, the reality is that this might be the last time I see this house again. I wish I had more time.
I give them one last wave before I go outside.
The sun has dipped behind the houses of Fuller Avenue, painting the sky with thick brushstrokes of orange and pink. A few trick-or-treaters already skip down the street with bags full of candy. It’s just another Halloween for them.
Bishop takes my hand and leads me toward his Mustang, the shiny red paint glinting in the fading sun.
We don’t have more time. All we have is now.
25
“Indie. Indie, wake up.”
A warm hand brushes my cheek. When I open my eyes, Bishop is standing over me, backlit by a blue-black sky studded with stars. His brow is creased with concern.
I gasp, a vague recollection of the spell at the boardwalk flashing into my mind. We did it. We got back to Los Demonios.
All of sudden, I realize that my arm isn’t screeching with pain, like the last two times I woke up in this place. The wound has already been wrapped in clean white gauze. It throbs dully under the bandage, but nothing like the pain before. Bishop kneels beside me, the backpack I wore into Los Demonios open at my feet. His arm is also bandaged, albeit more messily than mine. He’s been up for a while. A flash of jealousy spikes through me. He’s handling this like a pro, like coming here was no more challenging than a harrowing trip to the grocery store.
“Here, take this.” He passes me two pain pills and holds a bottle of water up to my lips. I gulp greedily, then wipe my chin as I heave for air. He watches me carefully.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re amazing. I can’t believe you did this twice on your own. I could barely look at my arm and this is your third time.”
It’s like the guy could read my mind. I’m not sure if he’s just being kind, or if he really is impressed with me, but I probably should take the compliment.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say. And I mean it.
We’re on the flat roof of a tall building. Storefronts in various states of disrepair spread out below us like rotten teeth. I spin around and scan the horizon for a hint of where we’ve landed. We need to get to the Chief’s headquarters ASAP. It could be too late already.
I hear something in the distance. Far away, across the storefronts, I can just make out the glisten of moonlight on water. Something big and round sticks up against the dark sky like the spokes of a giant bike wheel.
A Ferris wheel, I realize with a start.
“We’re in Santa Monica,” I say.
“How do you know?”
Bishop follows my finger as I point. “That’s the pier. Or what’s left of it. We’re in rebel territory. They got it in a deal a few weeks ago.”
Bishop blows out a breath. I can’t help the feeling of pride that swells inside me at knowing something helpful.
“We should fly low to the ground until we get out of their territory,” I say. “Once we get far enough we should try to steal a car so we can save some of our energy for later. Hopefully, with the spell going on tonight, the Chief won’t have as many guards out this way.”