I start to shake my head, but the pain is too much, and so I sling my arm around her shoulder. Step by step, we get back inside and sit in the living room.
“Did you see the patient?” I ask her, eyes darting up the steps after our mystery callers.
“Ma said to wait until she needs me. Rose is up there now. Whatever it is, it sounds like it’s really bad.”
I laugh, a bitter, manic thing.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, setting me on the couch.
“Remember when all you wanted was to be a normal girl, and I’d get mad at you?”
“I was an idiot.” She smirks, making her face brighten with mischief.
“You were smart.”
“Don’t tell me you want to trade in your powers. Because I’ve been down that road and it doesn’t work.”
We’re quiet, the scurry of footsteps on the ceiling and the cry of the injured man is our soundtrack for the evening.
“Everything will be fine,” she says. Her ponytail swishes from side to side when she moves. She lifts up my shirt and examines the area. I see her make a face, then try to cover it up.
“What?” But I feel the itch and burn of part of the scar opening up again.
“I healed this last night. It isn’t taking. I’ll do it again.” She walks into the foyer and makes a right toward the supply closet.
“Ma needs you,” I say.
She shouts back, “She has Rose and Dad.”
“Alex.”
“Just lean back.” She holds a six-inch quartz crystal with raw edges. She places the cold stone on my warm skin.
Her conjuring magic thickens the air with a velvet mist, cycling around her hands, and I sigh with relief as the pain lightens. Her dark brown eyes focus on the aura around me. As hard as she tries to hide it, I see the worry coiled in her stare, and I fear things might be worse than she’s letting on.
When my sister’s magic touches me, a tender warmth spreads from the bruised area on my side. My muscles relax, and if I didn’t have so much to do, I’d fall asleep right here and now, even though I slept through most of the day.
“There,” Alex says. The crystal is pitch black, a sign that the malady is gone. She holds it up for me to see. Crystals can usually be cleansed, but when they’re used to suck sickness out of the body, they turn black like this and there’s no going back. We usually bury them or throw them out to sea. “Want to keep it in a jar and name it?”
“Thanks,” I say, standing. I wiggle my toes and find I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to feel no pain. “But no.”
“Do you hear that?” Alex asks. She sets the crystal on the table and looks up at the ceiling.
“The screaming stopped.”
As if reading each other’s thoughts, we head upstairs. We stand outside the infirmary door. Mom’s and Dad’s voices are quick and worried. There’s another voice, familiar and strange all at once. I can’t place it, but then I see Alex’s face darken with anger. The lightbulb in the hallway makes a sound like ice breaking through glass, and then we’re cloaked in more darkness, and I wonder, why are we always trailed by shadows?
Alex yanks open the door and I follow her in.
Everyone turns to look at us. Mom, Dad, Rose, and—
“Alex,” he says. His brilliant green-blue eyes search her face. He’s been crying. His light brown skin is speckled with blood.
“Nova,” Alex says sharply. “It’s been a while.”
16
Why am I torn in two?
My head on earth,
my heart with you.
—Song of El Corazón, Breaker of Hearts and Lord of All the World’s Conflict, Book of Deos
“What are you doing here?” Alex asks Nova.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says, shame thick in his voice.
Nova Santiago is a complicated guy. I want to hate him. He was the one who set Alex in motion to Los Lagos. He betrayed her. He almost poisoned Rishi. He was a pawn of the Devourer, the demon witch of Los Lagos. But he also feared for his life. He wanted to live. Now, more than ever, I think I can understand his desperation.
Plus, Rose was right. He brought back our father. He didn’t say how he found him, but he doesn’t exactly seem like the conversational type. Nova always knows more than he lets on. Maybe the tattoos on his chest and the black magic burns on his fingertips scare people away before he can get close. I wonder if he prefers it that way.
Rose sits on the empty table beside the bloody guy Nova brought in.
Nova clears his throat. He scratches the back of his buzz-cut head and can’t seem to figure out where to place his hands, so he balls them into fists on his lap. He looks at my parents apologetically. Ma is cleaning her hands on a towel. My dad leans against a wall patiently.
“I was at Prospect Park with my friend Silvino,” Nova says. “Vino’s like us. Nothing special, but he can conjure shields. Comes in handy when we squat in the park.”
“What were you doing?” Alex asks sharply.
“Summoning the god-dammed apocalypse,” Nova says, rolling his eyes at my sister.
Rose covers her mouth, too late to hold back a loud barking laugh.
Nova shakes his head and stares at the shelf of jars, like he’s making it a point to avoid Alex’s eyes. “It’s nice out, so we were just chilling, eating dinner. Out of nowhere this guy attacks us. Got the drop on Vino.”
“Did you see the attacker’s face?” Mom asks, folding another wet cloth and placing it over Vino’s forehead.
“Too dark.” Nova meets Alex’s eyes. It lasts for about three seconds before he picks someone else to look at. Me. “There was something wrong with him. He couldn’t speak, like he was chewing on his own tongue. When I blasted him with light, I could see his neck was covered in open wounds. First I thought vamp, but the way it moved… It’s like he was a—” Nova hesitates. He looks around the room at my family and then at Vino.
Vino’s head inches back and forth and he mutters slightly. Bandages cover the wound my parents healed, but his skin is covered in sweat.
“A what?” Dad asks. His voice is even, encouraging, the way he would talk to us when we were little.
“A zombie,” Nova says, then laughs. “It’s ridiculous, I know.”
Mom and Dad look at each other. I wonder if they can hear the thundering of my heart.
“Raising the dead is nearly impossible,” Ma says, stroking her chin. “It violates one of the fundamental laws of magic and life. Besides, the only vudú priestess strong enough to raise the dead is retired in the DR.”
“Maybe it isn’t magical,” Rose suggests. “It could be a virus.”
We all turn to Vino, turning fitfully in his sleep—just like Maks has been.
Ma shakes her head and holds out a hand to banish the thought. “His blood was clean when we healed him.”
“Raising the dead is rare, but it’s been done,” Dad says, tracing his short beard methodically. “It never ends well.”
“But it has happened,” I say. Their eyes turn to me. “Where?”
“I heard stories as a child.” Ma scoffs and places her hand on her hip. “But we all did. It’s the only way they got us to behave.”
Nova shrugs, dispelling the talk of zombies with a wave of his hand. “He could’ve been cracked out. He didn’t try to go for Vino’s brain. That’s the weird part.”
“Oh, that’s the weird part in all of this?” Alex asks.
Nova smirks in Alex’s direction but still won’t look at her. “Just when I was starting to miss your smartass mouth. No. He went for Vino’s chest. Couldn’t even use his powers to shield himself. After I scared it away, we tried to run, but Vino was bleeding too much. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing,” my mom says. “Maybe this is the person the police are after.”
“The police?” Nova asks quietly.
“Someone is ripping hearts out of people,” Rose says.
Then I realize my fears about Maks were all wrong. And before I can think better of it, I shout, “Oh, thank gods.”
“Thank gods?” Mom asks me, a hand on her hip. “Lula, this young man almost died.”
“I just meant—” I start, looking to Alex, who shakes her head. “Thank the Deos it isn’t zombies.”
“Perhaps not zombies,” Dad says, his gray eyes focusing on me, “but it does sound like casimuertos.”
“Casi-what?” I try to repeat the word. Cah-see-mu-erh-toes.