Aidan’s car has tinted windows and soft leather seats, and the controls on the dashboard look more like the ones on the Starship Enterprise than like the ones on Mom’s old sedan. As we drive to the Seattle airport, Aidan tells me we’re flying to Mazatlan in central Mexico. There’s no direct flight from SeaTac to the Mazatlan airport, so we’re changing planes in LA, and the whole thing will take more than ten hours.
“I’ve never even been out of the country,” I say.
“I know,” Aidan answers, pressing down on the gas pedal because we have a flight to catch. I wonder what else he knows about my life. Does he know Mom and I have pizza and movie night once a week? That I’ve never kissed a boy? That I prefer vintage clothes to new ones?
“When did you buy these tickets?” I ask suddenly. Aidan doesn’t answer. “I only agreed to come with you a few hours ago, but you already had us on the next flight out of town.”
“I booked tickets on every flight since New Year’s Day,” Aidan finally responds, as though that isn’t a strange—and extravagant—way to make travel plans. “I wanted to be ready to go as soon as you agreed.”
“Oh.” I don’t ask what he would have done if I kept not agreeing to go with him for much longer.
As we stand in line to board, I notice something, someone, strange in the terminal. There is a man looking at me, even as he walks right past us to an adjacent gate where another flight is boarding. Not just looking—he’s staring. Almost like he knows me. But his face isn’t friendly, like maybe he’s trying to figure out why I look so familiar. He’s wearing a long black coat and a wide-brimmed black hat, like someone out of a movie set in the 1940s. But that’s not the weirdest thing about him; there seems to be a sort of . . . darkness attached to him, like a faint shadow is emanating from his body, surrounding him completely, unlike the rest of us, whose shadows are stuck to the floor beneath our feet.
“Did you see that man?” I ask Aidan, but he’s already walking down the ramp to board the plane. I turn back toward the mysterious man, but before I can make eye contact, he walks past a pillar and out of sight.
We’re sitting in first class. Enormous pillows and soft blankets wait on our seats, and as soon as we sit down, a flight attendant is asking for our drink order. I ask for a Diet Coke, unlike Aidan, who says, “Nothing, thank you.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of sitting in first class? You can have whatever you want, whenever you want it?”
“I just like to be near the front of the plane so I’m the first to get on and the first to disembark.”
If you ask me, that’s a total waste, but it doesn’t look like Aidan’s about to ask me.
I settle into my window seat, shove my backpack beneath the seat in front of me, and watch the rest of the passengers board the plane. I can’t help noticing that they all look a lot more festive than we do. They’re headed down south for fun, to catch some rays and warmth, a respite from the winter chill. I’m pretty sure we’re the only two people here who aren’t about to go on vacation.
Surely we won’t be working twenty-four hours a day, right? Maybe I’ll have time to work on my tan and get back some of the color that faded when we moved from Austin to Ridgemont. Mom would already be slathering sunscreen on her pale skin, even though we’re still hours from landing south of the border.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask Aidan as the plane ascends.
“I’ve been working at a facility a couple of hours north of Mazatlan for many years now.”
“A facility?” I echo. Aidan nods.
“It’s called Llevar la Luz.” When he sees the blank look on my face—I don’t know much Spanish—he translates: “Bring the light.”
“Why Mexico?” Maybe he hates the rain and the cold as much as I do. Maybe I get that from him. Can preferences be hereditary?
“The warmth helps keep spirits under control,” he answers softly. “It’s easier to keep dark spirits at bay. There are a few spirits who are drawn to the warmth—fire demons, for example—but even they prefer the cold. They can hide more effectively in the cold.”
“Why’s that?” My ears pop as the plane climbs higher and higher.
“Think about it.”
Is this what every conversation with Aidan is going to be like? Every time I have a question, he’ll get all teachery and try to make me figure it out myself? I’m more interested in answers than in lessons, but I guess I don’t have much choice.
Finally I respond, “Because our temperatures drop when a spirit is near, so if we’re already cold it’s harder to notice the difference?”
“Exactly,” Aidan nods. I guess that’s what he meant when he said he was bringing me someplace safe. Because I’m not exactly an expert at exorcising demons yet, I’ll be safer where there’s fewer of them and I can detect them more easily.
“Additionally a warm environment is easier on luiseach than the cold. Makes it easier for us to recover after a spirit touches us.” I guess that means our preferences are kind of hereditary.
“So there are other luiseach there? Other mentees like me?” The captain announces that he’s turned off the fasten-seatbelt sign.
“No. Not like you.” Before I can ask what he means by that, he adds, “Llevar la Luz is where I’ve been conducting my research.”