Visions of Skyfire

Chapter 38

“Bastard thinks he’s in charge,” Miguel muttered, steering his battered jeep down the rutted desert track that passed for a road.

He was still burning over the incident at the tavern the night before. The insult of that prick knocking him to the floor and sneering at him. What the hell was that about? He was supposed to be a partner in this, wasn’t he? He had romanced Teresa as he’d been instructed to do. Was it his fault the little bitch didn’t fall in line?

Miguel threw himself a look in the rearview mirror and smiled at what he saw. He’d been able to get women to do whatever he wanted since he was fifteen and first realized that women liked the way he looked. Handsome, with an edge of danger, he had women flocking to him like stupid little dogs. And they stayed with him until he decided to cut them loose. Nobody disrespected Miguel Hernandez. Nobody.

And that included that pompous prick with the fire hands.

Big deal. So he could do magic. That made him no better than the very witch they were chasing. He was a mutant. Like Teresa. Like the rest of the women with power. And they all thought they were better than humans. Better than him.

“Well, f*ck that,” he said aloud, letting his temper burn unrestrained inside him. He would show them all just how good he was.

They wanted Teresa, fine. He’d show them how it was done. He was finished taking orders. He knew where she was going to show up, so he’d be there. Waiting for her.

“Bastard fire man wants to call the shots, but he’s too stupid to listen to me.” Miguel had told them all that Chiapas was the secret to catching Teresa. No one wanted to just follow his advice and finish this. So, he was on his own. F*ck the rest of them.

He would do this himself and then they’d realize that he was a man to be taken seriously.

The village tavern was already miles behind him and still Miguel was fuming. He’d slipped out just before dawn when the bastard with gray eyes had left on business. Suited Miguel just fine. He had business of his own and when he was done, they’d all have to admit to his face that he was the one who knew what to do. That he, Miguel Hernandez, had come through for them when no one else had.

“When this is over,” he promised himself, “I’m not going to take shit from anybody again. I’ll have the reward money and I’ll get out of this f*cking desert and never look back. Then we’ll see who’s the important guy around here. F*cking Parnell with his fire thinks he’s so bad? We’ll see how impressive he is with a bullet in the head.”

He smiled at the thought. Indulging his fantasies made the miles go by faster. Soon he was deep in the desert, heading for Chiapas. And his destiny.