“What’s that?” Rose asks.
Dad strokes the tip of his short beard. His stormy-gray eyes are tiny as he squints, searching for a memory that might not be there.
“I used to know this story by heart,” Dad says, a self-deprecating chuckle on his lips. “It’s the punishment of the Deos when a bruja violates the laws of life. The corpse kills and consumes its prey, trying to return to life, but it can’t.”
I stop listening to him. My heart is a bass drum in my ears. This is Lady de la Muerte’s punishment.
“Lula, are you okay?” I hear my dad’s voice, drifting softly in the distance.
The killer can’t be Maks. But he had the wallet of one of the victims. Maks couldn’t have attacked Vino because he was here with me. Maks is not a casimuerto because he’s not a corpse; he’s a person. I feel his heartbeat. But there’s also the heart in the box. And that note… Destroy the abomination.
Dad’s hand presses down on my shoulder. A gentle squeeze that brings me back here, in the infirmary, Nova and my family looking at me.
“Sorry. Headache.”
“Are the casimuertos like the maloscuros that attacked us?” Rose asks. “We thought they were stories too.”
“No, not exactly,” Dad says. “The reasons they were created was similar.”
“Any violation of the gods results in punishment,” Ma says. “Maloscuros were once brujos and brujas who were turned into demons that hunt for power. But casimuertos. Casimuertos can be anyone. My dad once told me a story of a woman who tried to raise an army of them to destroy the villagers who stole her farm.”
“Seems reasonable,” Rose says dryly.
“My grandmother told me the same story,” Nova says, a sad smile tugging at his full mouth. “In her version, it was her cheating husband, not villagers. And they all died in the end.”
“Charming,” Alex says.
“The thing that attacked Vino can’t be a casimuerto,” Nova says, leveling his bluish eyes to mine. “Because the bruja wielding the magic would have to be dead or so weak they’d be dying. That kind of power—the power to reanimate the dead—it burns through the body and soul like that.” He snaps his fingers to demonstrate his point.
“Come. Enough ghost stories,” Ma says, throwing the dirty towels in the lidded bin. “Vino’s stable but he needs rest. Alex, change the bandages in the morning. We’ll report the attack to the High Circle on our drive to Montauk.”
“Perhaps we should stay,” Dad says, and I do my best to remain calm when his stare finds mine. “I don’t like the idea of you all staying alone.”
Part of me wants them to say. I want my parents to fix my mistakes and make it all better. But I’ll be eighteen in weeks, and I have to start taking care of myself.
“We’ll be fine,” I say. “We won’t leave the house. You guys go.”
“I’ll hold down the fort,” Rose promises.
Alex rubs her lips together nervously but nods. Ma picks up the leather pack she stuffed full of supplies and lifts it over her shoulder.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Nova says. He rubs the blood splatter on his cheek. “If Vino wakes up before that, call me.”
“Where are you going?” Dad asks.
Nova looks at his sneakers. “I left my stuff in the park.”
Dad shakes his head and waves his hands like a crossing guard. “No, you’re not going anywhere. Not when there’s a killer out there, magical or not.”
“I can’t,” Nova says. His eyes land on Alex, and then he backs away from the door.
“There’s a bed right here,” Dad tells him, and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while. “You found me, son. You brought me back. It’s not safe tonight. You’re staying here.”
Rose looks from the injured boy to the empty bed and makes a face. “You want him to sleep next to an almost-dead guy?”
“Rose!” Mom hisses. Then she turns to Nova, all the patience in the world. “Nova. When you said you left your things in the park, what did you mean?”
Nova clenches his jaw but answers. “Nothing, Ms. Carmen. I really gotta go.”
Nova starts to push past us, but Alex raises her hand and shuts the door with a blast of her power. Nova is about to hit it with his fist, but then looks down at Vino sleeping and changes his mind.
He turns to Alex and holds up an accusatory finger at her nose. “I hate when you do that.”
Alex grins but doesn’t let up. “Please, just answer my mom.”
Nova grunts and holds his hands like he’s about to choke the air. “My sleeping bag. My backpack with my food. Is that what you want to hear? All my damn stuff.” Then he looks at my mom. “I’m sorry for raising my voice in your home, Ms. Carmen.”
Ma takes three steps toward Nova and something tugs in my chest because I can feel his sadness coming off him in waves. She places her hand on his cheek. He won’t look at her. He keeps his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, like it costs him everything not to cry in front of us. “Stay here tonight, Nova. It’s late. Please.”
Nova sighs deeply and whispers, “Thank you.”
My parents rush to get things in order before they leave. Dad embraces Nova like a son and I try not to let it bother me. Why is it so easy for Nova to hug my father, but I can’t? I push the thought away for now. I have to go check in on Maks, and in this flurry of activity, I can make my exit. Rose gets clean clothes and towels for Nova. Alex heads to her room to call Rishi, but before she does, she gives me a stern look as if to say, This isn’t over.
I know it isn’t. It’s just beginning.
“Good night,” I say, my body ready to crash.
But I hear my father tell Nova, “I’ll bring up some ice for that bruise.”
My blood runs cold and I remember the black box. The thing inside it. Dad’s heading to the stairs but I shout, “I got it!”
Pain swims across my eyes as I sprint downstairs and wrench open the freezer door. I grab the black box and a couple of ice packs. Cold air blows against my face as I slam the door shut.
“What’s gotten into you?” Ma asks, stepping into the foyer with Dad trailing behind her.
“Just trying to be helpful.” And every. Single. Step. Hurts.
My mom studies my face. Can she see my lie? If she does, she doesn’t say anything. She holds me for a long time, and I kiss her cheek, wishing I could tell her everything.
“I love you,” I say, and she says, “I love you more.”
Dad kisses my forehead, and they hurry out the door. I lock the door behind them, and when I make it back upstairs, winded and clutching the cramp in my side, Nova opens the door to the infirmary.
“Make yourself at home,” I mutter.
He’s shirtless, so I can see the full extent of the bruise that covers his right shoulder, like El Papa gripped him and left his mark before letting him go. Nova quirks his eyebrow at me and holds his hand out for the ice packs.
“Thanks,” he says, then eyes the thing in my hands. “What’s in the box?”
I limp five paces away from him and to my bedroom. “Ice cream.”
I shut the door and lock it. I rest my head against it and breathe long and deep. My body longs to fall into my bed, but my mind is still processing today’s events. The stranger sneaking around the house, the attack, the black box. I hold it against my belly, the cold delicious against my burning skin.
When I open my eyes, Maks is standing in the center of my room, candlelight bouncing along his features. I swat my hand against the wall to hit the light switch, but he rushes me, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. He rests his hands on either side of me. Blue eyes bright as headlights, he leans in, gently digging his nose into my neck, my hair. Fear and want twist in my belly.
“Baby,” he whispers. He pulls back to look at me, lost, confused, and strange. Then he presses his hand on the center of my chest and says, “I’m so hungry.”
17
Her eyes were clear as milk and stitched with blood.
He wanted to save her but she wanted him gone.
—El Libro Maldecido/The Accursed Book, Fausto Toledo