“I got caught again, went to camp—but this time—”
“That was right before I met you,” Serena added.
Jimena nodded. “But this time something snapped and I lost my anger. I mean I got in there and I was waiting in the holding tank with these shackles around my arms and waist and ankles, staring at the gray wall and I thought, I do not want to spend my life this way.”
“But how did you get community service?”
“That was after I got out of camp. My home girls did the throw-down. They took this old woman’s purse, but the cops caught me. The cops wanted me to talk, but no way was I going to be a rat-head. The judge saw something different in my eyes this time. I could see it on her face, the way she smiled at me like she knew I’d finally learned my lesson. She knew I’d changed. I had. Used to be I wouldn’t have even talked to someone like you, who followed the rules. I thought I was better because I didn’t have to. Now we’re kicking it like we’ve known each other forever.”
Serena put her arm around Jimena.
“So maybe it looks good, what the Atrox showed you,” Jimena continued. “But after, when you’re alone, it won’t look so good—won’t feel good, either. It’s worth nothing, ’cause that’s what you end up with.”
They reached the crossroads and stopped. A small house was nestled under a row of swaying cypress trees. Flames flapped furiously from four rusted oil drums in the front yard, making shadows jig and twist around the trees and house.
“Who’d live all the way out here?” Serena wondered.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jimena said. “Let’s cut across the yard.”
They stepped into the yard and a shadow moved in the darkness under the cypress tree, then another stalked forward.
“What was that?” Serena asked nervously.
“Your imagination is in high gear.” Jimena laughed.
Then three large black dogs charged from the shadows, teeth bared, ears back. Their paws and nails scattered dirt, pebbles, and desert dust.
“Ay!” Jimena yelled, and jumped behind Serena.
“Here, nice doggy,” Serena crooned in a soothing voice, but the sound of her words only seemed to make the dogs angrier. Their snarls grew louder.
The first dog pounced as an old woman wrapped in a black shawl stepped out onto the small wood porch. The wind caught the tail of her shawl and whipped it up and around, tangling it in her long white hair.
Serena could feel the dog’s hot breath on her face. She stiffened, too stunned to run, and waited for the teeth to bite into her cheek.
The old woman whistled.
The dog whimpered and turned back, its paws pushing off Serena’s chest.
The other two dogs slid in the loose gravel, turning. Then all three ran back to the woman, who now stood in the yard in front of the porch.
Serena wiped the hot spittle from her cheek, then rubbed her hand on her sweats.
“Man, I can fight an ancient evil,” Jimena muttered. “But give me a good ol’ American dog and I turn to yellow Jell-O.”
“I’m right there with you.” Serena didn’t need to turn around to know that Jimena was trembling as badly as she was.
The dogs pranced around the woman, licking her hand. The one that had attacked Serena now lay on his back in the dirt yard, begging for a belly scratch.
“Who is that woman?” Jimena whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s get out of here. The crossroads are peligroso. They’re dangerous, eh?”
But neither of them moved. There was something about the woman that held them. She wore three iron keys on a chain around her neck, and when she turned toward them the keys hit each other with a soft clanking sound.
“Who says the crossroads are dangerous, anyway?” Serena asked, unable to take her eyes off the unusual woman.
“My abuelita.”
“Girls,” the woman called.
And they both jumped.
“Come here, please.” Her voice seemed remarkably young and strong.
“Yeah, what?” Jimena shouted. “You got something to say, we can hear you from here.”
Serena elbowed her. “She probably wants to apologize for letting her dogs scare us.”
“She’s a witch, a ghost, or la llorona,” Jimena said.
“How can you tell?”
“You got eyes.”
“She’s okay.” Serena grabbed Jimena’s elbow and pulled her forward. “She’s just someone’s grandmother living out here.”
“Check her out.”
“All right.” Serena pushed gently into the woman’s mind. She couldn’t. There was nothing there. Impossible.
“You picking up anything?” Jimena asked impatiently.
“No.” Serena shrugged. “I think I used up all my energy tonight. How ’bout you?”
“Yeah, but I don’t need a premonition. It’s common sense. Strange old woman. Living alone. I don’t want to go inside and see all the dead rats and cats and kids in her refrigerator and watch her sing over the bones.”
The woman started walking toward them. Her milky brown eyes were deep-set and filled with knowledge. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said.
“That’s it.” Jimena threw up her hands. “I’m outta here.”
Serena grabbed her arm and made her stay.
“Have you young women ever heard of Hekate?” the woman asked, and petted the dogs prancing around her skirt.
“What about it?” Jimena said.
“Why are you asking us about Hekate?” Serena didn’t believe in coincidences.
“She protected people from going the wrong way at the crossroads,” the woman began.
“We’re not going the wrong way, viejecita.” Jimena crossed her arms. “My car’s parked right over there.”
“You’d be surprised.” The woman’s wrinkled lips turned up in another smile. Her crooked finger pointed in the opposite direction.
“Come on, Serena.” Jimena started walking.
“I’m going to stay,” Serena decided. She had a strange feeling this woman wanted to help her. “Get the car and come back for me.”
“¿Estás loca?” Jimena was exasperated. “Haven’t you had enough for one night?” She kicked the ground. The dogs growled and she stepped back.
“I need to talk to her.”
“Whatever.” Jimena shook her head and walked off.
Serena followed the woman inside. The dogs rushed around her and settled under a table in the middle of the room. The woman shut the door against a dust devil forming in the yard. The door rattled as the wind continued to rage.
Dozens of candles of differing shapes and colors lit the interior and cast a warm glow about the room. The air smelled of vanilla and pinecones.
The old woman sat down at the oak table in the middle of the room. Two plates, two cups, a dish of petits fours, and a teapot sat on the table as if she had been expecting company.
“Come in and sit down,” the old woman offered.
Serena sat across from her. One of the dogs rested its head on her shoe, its nose cold against her ankle.
The woman poured two cups of tea, and in the candlelight her face looked sad.
“Did your electricity go out?” Serena asked, but she already knew the answer.
“No, I prefer the dark. You could say the dark is sacred to me.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone must travel through the dark in order to reach the light. I suppose that means they must all come to me eventually for advice.”
“You are Hekate?” Serena whispered.
“Hekate.” The woman repeated the name as if the feel of the word on her tongue awakened something inside her. “No.” She picked up the plate of petits fours.
“Are you lonely living all the way out here?”
“Some of us must bear more in life than others,” the woman answered softly.
Serena braced herself to hear the woman bemoan her solitude.
“But that can be a blessing.” She offered Serena the petits fours.
Serena took one and bit in.
“Some people want an easy life, they want the fame and fortune and none of the struggle.” She stopped and looked at Serena. “I suppose you have a dream?”
“Yes,” Serena answered as the wind shrieked over the roof and pounded against the door, demanding entrance.
“I can see what you want and yet it’s frightening to you, wondering if you can work hard enough to achieve it.”
Serena nodded.
The wind screamed again under the door. The candles flickered and underneath the table the dogs whimpered.
“I love the wind,” the woman said, looking behind her. “All women have the power of the wind inside them, deep in their souls. The problem is . . .”
Her eyes looked at the ceiling as the wind skated across the roof, lifting shingles. She smiled and turned back to Serena.
“The problem is most women let this force die out to a breeze when a whirlwind is needed. When her forces are gathered and focused, she can do anything. It’s when the force is scattered that she fails.”
The house shook and then the wind broke open the door, whirled around the room, and blew out the candles. Then it left as suddenly as it had come, leaving only the dark and the smell of candle smoke in the room.
“You see,” the woman said, and reached under the table to pet her whining dogs. “It can be quite powerful when focused.”
The roar of mufflers sounded outside. Then Jimena walked across the porch. The boards creaked under her feet. She peeked inside. “Serena?”
“Yeah?” Serena didn’t move.
“Let’s roll,” Jimena said impatiently.
“Thank you.” Serena stood and walked to the door.
The wind had become no more than a whisper now. The flames in the oil drums licked lazily toward the night sky and reflected off the blue fender of Jimena’s car.
The woman followed them to the door, the dogs by her side. Before she closed the door, she spoke to Serena in Latin. “Id quod factum est, infectum esse potest.”
“What do you mean?” Serena asked.
“Use it,” the woman said, and lifted a chain holding one of the keys from around her neck and placed it around Serena’s neck.
“What is the key to?” Serena examined it in the dim light.
“You’ll know if you ever need it.” The woman smiled, went back inside, and closed the door.
On the drive back to L.A., Jimena asked, “What did she say to you, anyway?”
“Id quod factum est, infectum esse potest.”
Jimena thought for a moment. “What has been done can be undone. What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Serena said, and fingered the key. Then she thought about Zahi, and suddenly she knew what she had to do.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE NEXT DAY, Serena called Zahi and asked him to meet her near the Beverly Center.
The Sunday morning traffic was light, the air still, and a thin layer of gray clouds hung in the sky. Zahi walked up San Vicente, where she waited under the green awning of the Hard Rock Cafe.
“I changed my mind,” she said when he reached her.
He placed his arm around her and whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “I knew you would.” Then he leaned back and looked at her, his eyes filled with cruel delight and satisfaction. “Say it,” he commanded.
She stared straight at him. “I’ll step into the fire and become the witch goddess.”
The wind whipped around them, spinning dirt, paper, and dried leaves from the gutter as if the Atrox had been listening and her promise had swept it into ecstasy. But then she caught the surprised look in Zahi’s eyes and wondered if the whirlwind had come from a force inside her.
“Lecta,” Zahi uttered with a slight tremor in his voice. “I will pick you up tonight. The moon rises at seven. I will be parked in your driveway at six-thirty.”
“All right,” she said, and walked away. He watched her as she stepped around the corner and walked past Todai and Ubon. She continued down the street to Jan’s coffee shop.
Catty, Vanessa, and Jimena were waiting for her at a large booth in the back. It was warm and crowded inside and smelled of bacon, coffee, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. She slid into the booth. They had already ordered a Belgium waffle and a cup of coffee for her.
“You did it?” Jimena said.
Serena nodded.
“Did he say where you were going?” Vanessa asked and poured syrup over her waffle.
“No.” Serena took a sip of hot coffee, hoping it would ease the chill inside her.
“It’s dangerous.” Jimena looked worried.
“It’s the only thing that can be done,” Serena declared. “We have to get rid of these new Followers. Zahi is their leader, and without him they’ll be weakened.”
“I’ll go invisible and follow you,” Vanessa suggested. “And then I’ll come back and tell Catty and Jimena where you are.”
“Hopefully, I’ll get a premonition before then.” Jimena took a deep breath. “We won’t leave you hanging.”
“If worse comes to worst,” Catty added, “I’ll take us back in time and then we’ll just keep doing it until we get it right.”
They all smiled, reassured, but Serena knew it wouldn’t work that way. They’d only have one chance. They seemed to understand.
“How are you going to fool Zahi?” Jimena asked.
“Yeah,” Catty wondered. “What if he reads your mind and knows you’re trying to trap him?”
“We should go talk to Maggie,” Vanessa said. “She only lives a few blocks away.”
“No.” Serena didn’t fully understand why she needed to do this without Maggie. “It’s too late. I’ve made up my mind. Besides part of our mission is to find a way to release the Followers from their bondage to the Atrox.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we’re supposed to die trying,” Catty pointed out. “Maggie’s always helped us in the past.”
“I agree.” Vanessa pushed her food away. “It could be way too dangerous.”
Serena looked at Jimena.
“I’m down for you.” Jimena sighed. “But they’re right. It’s dangerous and I had that premonition of you standing in the cold fire.”
“Look, you guys, you’re either going to help me or I’m going to do it by myself.” Serena looked around the table. They each nodded their agreement.
That night Serena dressed to meet Zahi. She used a metallic green eye shadow on the top lids and the outer half of the bottom lids so that her eyes looked like a jungle cat’s. Two coats of black mascara completed them, and then she smudged a light gold gloss on her lips.
She took a red skirt from the closet. The material was snakelike, shimmering black, then red. She slipped it on and tied the black strings of a matching bib halter around her neck and waist. She painted red-and-black glittering flames on her legs and rubbed glossy shine on her arms and chest.
Finally, she took the necklace she had bought at the garage sale and fixed it in her hairline like the headache bands worn by flappers back in the 1920s. The jewels hung on her forehead, making her look like an exotic maharani.
She sat at her dressing table and painted her toenails and fingernails gold, then looked in the mirror. A thrill jolted through her as it always did. No matter how many times she saw her reflection after the transformation, her image always astonished her. She looked supernatural, a spectral creature, green eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more forceful and elegant—an enchantress goddess. She couldn’t pull away from her reflection. It was as if the warrior in her had claimed the night.
At last she took her moon amulet and placed it around her neck.
The doorbell rang. She grabbed the iron key and her high-heeled sandals, and hurried down the dark hallway, a faint rainbow light shimmering around her. Already she could feel Zahi’s presence on
the other side of the front door, his evil waiting to embrace her.
“Let him wait,” she said softly to herself. She sat on the steps and slipped into her sandals. The ritual was complete now. She was ready for battle.
She stared down at the key in her hand. “Ready?” she whispered to Vanessa, who had been waiting invisible by the door. Then she slipped the key into her skirt pocket. She opened the door, waited for Vanessa to breeze past her, and stepped outside.
Zahi leaned against his car parked in the driveway, his legs crossed in front of him. When he looked up and saw her he gave an involuntary start and then a slow smile spread across his face. His deep brown eyes met hers and she saw the desire in them. She strolled over to him.
“I’m glad you changed your mind.” He took her hand, turned it over, and kissed the palm. “Goddess,” he whispered, and continued to hold her hand near his face, his breath warm on her skin.
She slowly pulled her hand away and worked hard to keep her mind blank. She could feel him softly treading through her thoughts.
He opened the car door. She climbed in and purposefully stretched her legs. Her dress rode up her thighs. She watched him watching her and didn’t stop the stretch until she felt a chill brush across her back. Then she knew Vanessa was in the car.
“I’m settled in now,” she announced coyly.
“Temptress,” he said, smiling wickedly.
She took deep breaths as he hurried around the car and got in the driver’s seat.
He turned the key in the ignition and the engine thundered. He backed the car from the drive with a squeal of brakes and headed toward Fairfax.
She let her head rest on the back of the car seat and smiled when she caught him casting sideways glances at her. Headlights, streetlights, and neon signs flashed light and shadow across the inside of the car.
“Your mind seems empty tonight,” he said. His warm hand touched her knee, the fingers soothing.
“Oh,” she started. “I—”
“You don’t need to feel so nervous,” he reassured her. The hand glided up her thigh.
“What happens after I become a Follower?” A flash of movement made her look in the back. Vanessa was crouched behind the driver’s seat, slowly becoming visible. Her fear and nervousness were making her reappear.