Revealing Silver (10 page)

His laughter lingered even after he’d scooped up his bags and headed down the hallway to what she presumed was his bedroom. Her job of avoiding him had just gotten a hell of a lot easier. The signs were obvious. He was being the respectful friend. Any advances she made now would be rebuffed. Homesickness settled in her stomach like dead weight, and the prospect of going back to her hotel room alone, knowing Nathan was so close, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it, made her want to scream in frustration.

“He’ll probably stay in there for the rest of the night,” Isaac said behind her. “We don’t have to worry about being interrupted again.”

But Nathan’s presence was exactly what she wanted. She forced herself to stand with a smile, like it wasn’t killing her to continue the act.

“I’ve got a better idea.” She nodded toward the door behind him. “Why don’t we go get my statement taken care of? Before I lose my nerve.”

Though it had been his suggestion to start with, he looked less than pleased with her offer. “Are you sure? Not that I don’t think you should, but it’s late. And it’ll be even later by the time we’re done.”

“The sooner we do it, the sooner we can go look at that warehouse, though, right?”

“We? You mean me.”

She didn’t, but she had hours to work on him. “Sure, whatever you say.”

With a sigh, Isaac shook his head. “You’re going to push me as far as you can, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, let’s go.” He led the way into the foyer, pausing before reaching for the door. “This does not count as our first date, by the way. Just so we’re clear.”

“Crystal.”

Though hopefully, that first date would never become a reality. Because she wanted Nathan—her Nathan—and if she had to track Marisol down and chain her to a wall to get the answers she needed, Remy was going to get home to him as soon as humanly possible.

For all her efforts to impress upon Gabriel the importance of having men with the girls who were not only trustworthy but competent as well, Marisol had to deal with the reality that her cousin had been too blinded by his dreams of the Silver Maiden to satisfy their needs. Cruz and Ernesto were ideal physical specimens, but they lacked both common sense and natural instinct. Allowing Remy Capra to escape was a perfect example of that.

She needed the bitch, but that had to wait. The other six girls were her greatest priority, and the warehouse had been compromised. Finding a new location, securing the extra funding, and then making arrangements to move the carefully re-created temple to said location chapped Marisol’s hide, but she couldn’t do anything else until she completed that. For the first time in Gabriel’s life, he hadn’t put fail-safes into place. There was no contingency. He’d been too excited, too certain of their plan to use the coins to travel to a year when the girls weren’t missing, when Gabriel’s holdings in the city were negligible and his name not associated with the worst of the street scum.

They only had a small window of time to complete the ritual and it was already closing. Every hour counted, and she resented the loss of each one.

It took longer than she expected to find another stronghold. Her ideal locations were often millions of dollars out of her price range without exploiting her family connections, and she didn’t trust anybody else to get the job done for her. Gabriel moved through life like he was too big for the world, leaving a trail wherever he went. He had a blind spot the size of his ego that prevented him from properly assessing risks, but she wasn’t as foolhardy. But they’d always agreed on one point. The plan’s success was the only option. Even if they had different expectations regarding the results.

She couldn’t get back to the warehouse to finish the final scrubbing until the day after Christmas. Cruz claimed her presence wasn’t necessary, but while she was reluctant to leave the girls under someone else’s watchful eye, she liked the idea of evidence being left behind for Remy to exploit even less. They had been lucky so far. Remy had failed to make a reappearance. Marisol didn’t understand why, but she didn’t have the luxury of time anymore to dwell on the possibilities.

Part of her was tempted to burn the place down. The derelict neighborhood wouldn’t miss the eyesore, and it would solve the immediate problem of destroying proof of their presence with the expediency she needed. But the building wasn’t Gabriel’s, and the Parker of the past had no knowledge of their collusion. It needed to stay that way, or Gabriel’s takeover when Parker was finally brought down in four years would never occur.

Sometimes, Marisol truly hated all of this messing around with time. Once she had full control of her powers, it would be a different story, but for now, she still had to play by certain rules.

Cleaning the warehouse went without a hitch. At one point, when she emerged from the building to issue new instructions to Cruz, she saw a car idling at the curb down the road, but it left within moments of her spotting it, doing a U-turn in the middle of the street and heading off in the opposite direction. Streetlights revealed a single occupant in the expensive BMW, a man by the broad set of his shoulders. She dismissed it as coincidence. She’d seen more than a few deals go down in the neighborhood the past week. This had the markings of just another one.

Cruz and Ernesto left in the van to haul away the final pieces of the altar, leaving Marisol with the SUV she’d rented. She’d left a few things in the basement, including a large freezer, rolls of plastic tarp, ropes, duct tape, lime, and some knives. If anybody caught up with her in their new place, she didn’t want to have those things lying around. By all rights, she should start the search for Remy in earnest, but once she did, it would consume her until the bitch was found. Then there would be the ritual to finally harness the power that was rightfully hers. The next few hours might be the only ones she could claim as fully her own for a very long time.

She drove southeast for miles, veering off the highway as soon as she cleared the city. Without the trappings of urbanization, the barren landscape embraced the night and swallowed the stars, leaving only the headlights to cut through the darkness. Desert chill slithered its way through the cracks of the vehicle, but she kept the heat low, the window cracked to allow the fresh air to circulate throughout the interior. It cleared her head, sharpening her senses until she felt like she could see all, hear all, be all.

At a curve in the road, she pulled over, cutting the engine. Nothing was visible through the windshield, not even the outlines of cacti or scrub. The end of the world, some might think. For Marisol, it was the beginning.

Her boot crunched a dry twig when she got out, and her lungs seized at how cold it really was. She couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her, so her steps remained careful, measured by the rhythmic beats of her heart. A hissing nearby jerked her to a halt, but when it faded away, her walking resumed.

She stopped twenty yards away from the SUV. The ground was flat, and when she crouched down to feel it, dry to the touch. Kneeling was uncomfortable, but not any more than being outside without a heavy jacket. She could tolerate it. Next to her left knee, a desert flower folded in on itself, sleeping for the cold, bleak night. Marisol grasped it as close to the earth as she could, plucking it free, the slight stem surprisingly sturdy between her fingers. The words she’d been taught as a child fell like a soft spring rain from her lips, dissipating into the soft breeze tickling around her. Nobody knew them but her. Her grandmother had been very clear about never sharing them with another living soul. Not even Gabriel knew about them. The secrets that had been passed down among the women in their family had never been meant for male ears.

Her fingertips went numb, her eyes fluttering shut as a wave of vertigo threatened to take control. When the world stopped tilting, she lifted the sleeping flower to her nose and took a deep breath. Its sweet fragrance replaced the earthier tones of the sand and soil. The petals prickled where they brushed against her lips, not as delicate as their appearance would suggest. To be sure, she braved against the dizziness and looked at the unfurled bud.

So beautiful. And hers, because she had been the one to give it strength to brave the night and face the moon.

Another whisper clung to the flower like dewdrops. As she watched, it fell limp, the stem bending against the curve of her hand. Two petals loosened, drifting to the ground, while the rest slowly dissolved into dust, searing her skin where she absorbed its life.

A tiny victory. The only one she could allow at the moment. She needed to guard her reserves for the Silver Maiden, or else risk losing her best shot at the power she’d craved her entire life.

Within the coven, each girl’s powers was a gift to be treasured. Gabriel wanted to squander them to resurrect his precious ghost, but Marisol couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn’t. Only she understood the true possibilities.

So only she would reap the rewards.

Gabriel and the coin weighed heavily on Olivia’s mind on the long drive to Asuza. Nathan was silent beside her, lost in his own thoughts. She couldn’t even stand to look at him, and he hadn’t asked questions or tried to make small talk while they traveled through the midmorning traffic. He looked like himself—or at least the version Olivia knew—for the first time since Remy disappeared, but it was all an act. She appreciated the effort, considering the errand they were on, but she couldn’t shake the sense of betrayal she felt. How could she trust him with this after what she discovered that morning? How could she trust him with anything?

“Are you worried?” Nathan asked.

“No. Not really.”

“You think things will go that well?”

Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, but you’re not scared?”

“Why should I be? I haven’t been hurt. You’re starting to sound like Isaac.”

“Sorry.”

Olivia pressed her lips together, sorry she snapped at him. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but she was a little scared about what might happen. She was feeling more guilty by the minute for going forward with her plan without telling Isaac about it or even warning him she planned to handle the coins recklessly. Her concern for Nathan was growing exponentially, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything because her mind kept returning to Gabriel. He was a sociopath, a professional liar, and more slippery than a barrelful of greased weasels, but she believed him. Perhaps that was the worst burden on her currently overwhelmed shoulders. She actually
believed
him. Not about Marisol. She didn’t believe that for a second, but she believed his sincerity. Whatever else was going on, he truly didn’t think Marisol capable of murdering one of the captive girls.

Olivia knew better. Somebody had frightened Stacy, somebody had marked her with knives, and somebody had cut her throat. Marisol was the only person with the opportunity, and judging from Gabriel’s reaction, the motivation. She couldn’t even begin to put herself in Marisol’s mind-set. What if Gabriel was the sane one in the operation? What if he was the only one keeping everybody at an even keel? What was Marisol capable of when left to her own devices? Would impossible bodies start popping up all over Los Angeles?

“This has to work,” Olivia muttered.

Nathan didn’t voice any reassurances. No
of course it will work
or
you’ll find a way
or
there’s nothing to worry about
. Maybe he didn’t believe any of those things. Olivia didn’t know if she did, either, but hearing it would have made her feel better. Isaac being there with her would have made her feel better too. She hated that he wasn’t. She hated that she felt duty bound to do something he would find completely unacceptable. He never actually stopped her from using the coin, or from doing anything else she needed to do, but she hated fighting with him. She hated scaring him, and didn’t he have very good reason to be frightened? Would she be happy if he insisted on doing something that seemed completely, irrationally dangerous?

She couldn’t spend all her time thinking about Isaac. Her mind had to be free of distraction. She’d tell him everything that night if it bothered her. At least she’d have something to report. Maybe the entire experiment would be a fabulous triumph, and the success would somehow mitigate his hurt anger. It was easier to get forgiveness than permission, after all.

Nathan might have been working on the same principle.

Stacy waited for them on the front porch, and for the first time since Olivia met her in the emergency room of Saint Joe’s, she looked like a normal young woman. Her hair hung around her shoulders and bare arms, and she had her knobby knees pulled up close to her chest. White earphone cords dangled from her ears, attached to a small MP3 player in her front pocket. She had her phone in one hand, a soda in the other. She smiled at them when they parked in front of the house, waving shyly at Nathan as he emerged from the passenger side. Her clothes were a bit cuter than the sweats and T-shirt she’d been wearing the day before, and there might have been a touch of makeup on her lips and eyes. She shared a glance with Nathan over the hood of her truck, but she was grateful Stacy at least had some motivation to cooperate with the two of them. Even if she felt like she was using Nathan for his pretty face.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be by today,” Stacy said.

“We got tied up in traffic. Nathan, you remember Stacy.”

“Of course.” He stepped forward, offering his hand in a friendly gesture that actually made the girl blush. “How are you doing, Stacy?”

“Good.”

“How’s your throat?”

“Getting better. It still hurts sometimes.”

Nathan nodded. “Yeah, that happens. How have you been sleeping? I found it difficult sometimes.”

“Good. It’s nice to be in my own bed. And it helps that my parents are down the hall.”

Her mother stepped out the door at that point, smiling a greeting at Olivia before turning her attention to Nathan. “You must be Mr. Pierce. Stacy has told us a lot about you.”

“Mom,” Stacy muttered, a different sort of blush climbing up her cheeks. Olivia bit back her smile. She’d have to warn Stacy that it never stops. You could be a full-grown adult and your mother would still find a way to embarrass you. “I told her you helped me. When I needed it.”

“I was glad I had the chance to help at all,” Nathan said.

“Shall we go inside? I have iced tea, if you’re thirsty.”

Olivia murmured her thanks as she followed them into the house. Nathan listened, smiling, as Stacy explained this was a new house, but it already felt like home to her. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen from him in days, and it occurred to her visiting Stacy might be what he needed to give him some sense of hope. Her vision of Remy and Isaac’s memory of a strange redhead from ten years ago might have been vaguely reassuring, but they were abstract and impersonal. There was nothing to anchor him to the real world, or pull him from his own head. Stacy could serve that function. She already was, from the looks of things.

Once they were settled around the kitchen table with their glasses of sweating iced tea, Olivia took the small box from her purse. She hoped she could explain this without sounding like a crazy person. If Ruth insisted she leave their house and never darken their doorstep again after hearing this crazy story, Olivia wouldn’t blame her, but she hoped Ruth would give her the chance to explain everything.

“This box contains a silver coin. One of two called the Silver Maiden.”

Stacy paled slightly at the name and Nathan reflexively looked at his hand. The burn there was only the faintest hint of a scar, but it was plain on his skin if you knew what to look for.

“We don’t quite understand how or why yet, but when certain people come in contact with the Silver Maiden, they can develop…extraordinary powers.”

Ruth frowned. “What sort of powers?”

“I think it depends on the person, but in my case, I can see the other people in the past and the future.”

Ruth made the sign of the cross. “Why did you bring that to my house?”

“Because it’s the reason Gabriel de los Rios took your daughter, Mrs. Montenegro. He was attempting to harness the power of the coins using Stacy and seven other girls he’d kidnapped over the years. The best way to stop his accomplice and bring the other girls back is to learn what this coin can do and why it’s so special.”

“I don’t want that anywhere near my daughter,” Ruth insisted.

“No, ma’am, of course not. I’ll be the only one handling the coin. But I know for a fact it’ll allow me to see your daughter. What I want to do is try to direct the visions I experience. That way, I can guide them. Instead of seeing what the coin wants me to see, I can find the other girls Gabriel is still holding somewhere.”

“So, you want to try to see my daughter?”

“Yes. Perhaps she could sit in the living room with you and Mr. Pierce, and I can be outside or in another room. These are going to be very simple experiments. I don’t plan to take up any more of your time than I need to, and I certainly won’t allow the coins to have any effect on Stacy.”

“I want to help, Mama.”

Ruth switched to Spanish, and she didn’t have nice things to say about Olivia or her plan. Nathan waited until she paused for a breath before calmly interjecting, his accent slightly incongruous with the more fluid Spanish words. Stacy smiled a little as he began speaking, but Ruth didn’t look particularly charmed or convinced. Olivia traced her finger along the edge of the box, thinking about the coin inside, wondering if it was already flaring to life. It had been glowing the first time Olivia found it, and she’d caught it glowing a few times after that, but it was impossible to say what would make it gleam its bright silver light.

“Fine,” Ruth bit out. “One hour. No more than that.”

Olivia nodded quickly, agreeing even though she had no idea if she would need more time. Hopefully she could get more than two or three attempts in before the hour was up and it wouldn’t completely cook her brain, or leave her a shaking, comatose vegetable. Isaac would visit her in her hospital room just to tell her
I told you so
.

“You can stay here in the kitchen if you like,” Olivia said, rising from the table with the box in hand. “I’ll move to the living room.” Where the much safer and more comfortable couch was. “Do you have your notebook?”

Nathan nodded, producing a small book from his pocket. “I’ll be sure to get every detail. But somebody should be with you. It’s dangerous to do this by yourself.”

“Dangerous?” Ruth asked.

“I pass out sometimes. I’ve fallen once. It’s not that big of a deal, as long as I’m already on a couch and I can’t fall anywhere.”
And Isaac’s there to hold me
, she added to herself with a pang of regret. Isaac wasn’t there to hold her. She needed to get over that fact. If she couldn’t exert a modicum of control on the coins, then they might not ever be able to travel back to get Remy back or to stop Marisol and whatever she planned to unleash.

“I’ll sit with you,” Ruth declared.

“You don’t have to do that if you’d rather stay in here.”

“It sounds like you’re the one we need to be worried about,” Ruth insisted, standing as well. “We owe you for our daughter’s life. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Olivia smiled a little, inclining her head. “Thank you, Mrs. Montenegro—”

“Ruth.”

“Ruth, sorry. That’s very kind.”

She followed Ruth to the living room, watching with a growing sense of anxiousness as Ruth arranged the cushions and blanket on the couch. Olivia shrugged off her jacket, removing her badge and shoulder holster, and setting them on the top of the bookshelf.

“Is Mr. Pierce your boyfriend?” Ruth asked, once Olivia had made herself comfortable on the couch.

“No. Gabriel is responsible for his girlfriend…disappearing.”

“Oh my goodness. How horrible.”

“It is,” Olivia agreed.

“Can you find her again?”

“I certainly hope so. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“How many girls are still missing?”

“There are six girls, counting Remy. But we fear for their safety. The sooner I can control this coin, the better.”

“Excuse me, but that just seems…where did this coin come from?”

“A very old religion in South America. I don’t know all of the details. Just that Gabriel and his cousin Marisol are willing to stop at nothing to find the coins and use them. If Marisol is allowed to do whatever she’s planning, I’m afraid the girls…well, I’m afraid they’re going to be hurt in the process.” Olivia slowly lifted the box’s lid, leaning forward so Ruth could see it nestled in the bottom. As Olivia had suspected, it was glowing in reaction to Stacy’s presence, and it was even easier to see the design etched in sharp relief.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it? The other coin is just as beautiful.”

“Who made them?”

“I don’t know. I’d sure like to find out, though. Okay, as soon as I touch this coin, it’s going to make me pass out. Don’t panic or try to wake me. When the vision is done, I should wake up on my own. If I don’t, or I can’t, call Nathan in. He’s seen this before.”

Ruth nodded her understanding. Her wide brown eyes were the last things Olivia saw before her fingers closed around the glowing silver.

Isaac’s familiar smile, the achingly beautiful cut of his jaw and the liquid heat of his eyes, the long, graceful fingers that could make me scream and whimper in turns. Talking, telling a story I don’t recognize, laughing. The smile should be for me. Who else would make Isaac seem so relaxed, so at ease, so young? Young. He’s younger. There are fewer lines on his face and he doesn’t have the tension in his jaw or the few extra pounds on his surprisingly lanky frame. Don’t want to look away. I don’t want to do anything but watch him, and I reach out. But there’s nothing to touch, the details blurring in the fading light. The smile’s not meant for me, and neither is his laughter. I’m hearing a private conversation. A conversation between him and Remy. Jealousy leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. I want Isaac to look at me like that. I want him to laugh and tell me a story I’ve never heard before.

I force myself to look away from Isaac, taking in the various details of his room. Remy’s talking, and I concentrate on turning. My neck? My eyes? My entire body? Not sure. I turn, I spin around, I search for her, ignoring Isaac despite every instinct to find him again. I force the direction of my vision, and there’s a sort of separation, as though something thick and muddy clings to my skin, pulling me back every time I take a half step forward. I lunge. It yanks. I heave. It thickens. My bones trying to escape from the prison of flesh and blood. I’m part of Remy. Three heartbeats. Who has the third? Why is it surrounding me? Echoing brightly and brighter. Seeing what she’s seeing, but I’m myself too. I move. I exist without her, see her, see all if I break the invisible bonds holding me.

My muscles ache, like the strain of escape is too much. No, deeper than my muscles. The damage could very well be physical, I don’t care. I fight, force my limbs to move through the resistance. I cry out, the sound escaping my voice, her voice, into my ears, out of my head, through the slow sludge of time, always moving in one direction. The strength of it disrupts something, and the tension snaps away. Floating. Above Remy. Away from Isaac. Higher than I need to be.