The Darkness of Shadows Page 8

“And I quote, ‘A Protector is one who protects,’” I said. “Dunno who you’re supposed to be protecting though.”

  “Well you, obviously.” She grinned. “Did he tell you what you are? Am I a Protector of a magical dessert princess? Do I bow in your presence? Fell the evil bakers that try to topple your confectionary empire?” She was smiling so much her nose crinkled.

  “You’re supposed to be my personal assistant too. So much potential for you.” I thought back to my meeting. “He didn’t tell me what I am.”

  “Do you think if we activate our Wonder Twin powers we could rid the world of evil?”

  We both laughed.

  Val was sipping her drink, belly full, a content smile on her small lips. I stretched and gathered my stuff.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To your mom’s. I know I put you behind on some project and you’re itching to get to it. I’m sure the dating dilemma has wound down by now,” I said.

  “My staff can handle it. I called them when we left Walter’s house. I trust them to do the work.”

  “Uh huh. You’ll be in the office at the crack of dawn tomorrow to check up on them.”

  “Nope. Gonna do it from here in a little while.”

  “You’re bad. Thanks for dinner.”

  “Come on, stay a little while. I made brownies from scratch this morning.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I messed up one time and you’ve never let me forget it. Jeez!”

  “Unsweetened chocolate and salt instead of sugar makes an unforgettable brownie, little sister.”

  “Yeah, well, these are good. And I have French vanilla ice cream to go with them. Plus, American Idol’s on.” She bobbed her eyebrows at me. “The New York auditions.”

  It was like dangling a piece of cheesecake in front of me.

  “All right, a little while,” I said.

  And we headed into the living room to join the judges and a legion of hopeful singers.

  Val’s furniture was oversized, overstuffed, and way too comfortable. We took our regular spots on the couch, Val curled up on one end, and me with my legs stretched out on the other. I swear I only closed my eyes for a second as the soft warmth of a quilt floated over me.

  I slipped into a restful sleep.

  The aroma of coffee and bacon was my alarm clock the next morning.

  “You don’t play fair.” I smacked her on the back of the head on my way to the fridge. “You lull me into a false sense of security with food and drink and the chance to watch a few singing train wrecks, then you hit me over the head with a down quilt.”

  “Hey! Good morning to you too.” Her voice still deep with slumber. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Really good. Thanks.” I poured a glass of orange juice. “But you still set me up.”

  “Yep.” She smiled over her coffee mug. “And it worked beautifully too.”

  It was meeting time at casa de Guerrero. Val had let it slip that we’d gone to check out Walter’s store.

  “I would like to discuss Walter Young,” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  “What about him?”

  “I believe your parents and Mr. Young had some dealings in the past. I wanted to share my concerns with you about visiting him again.”

  I breathed out a bit of apprehension. “Yes, ma’am, but he said a few things.”

  Val rolled her eyes and I kicked her under the table.

  “Such as?”

  “That my mom was a Healer—and you were too. He called my father a Necromancer.” What a mouthful of weirdness. “He talked about magic like it was real … is he telling the truth?”

  It came out lamer than I thought possible.

  A small smile curved Mrs. G’s lips. She tried to hide it behind the tea cup.

  “I know Mr. Young from some charity events that we have chaired together. He makes his living selling fantasy.”

  “He was really adamant,” Val said.

  That must’ve hurt Val’s sensibilities big time. With the exception of her chick flicks, her life was rooted in the tangible.

  “He lives in another world, one that is not always grounded in reality,” Mrs. G said.

  I know what I saw at my apartment. It was real. Wasn’t it? Or was the mere sight of my father enough to send me to a padded room?

  Val changed the subject, and the conversation drifted. I let my mind wander while the Guerreros debated film versus digital cameras.

  “If you took the photograph properly in the first place, you would not need all that fancy equipment you use to alter your work,” Mrs. G said.

  “But, Mom, if you’d just try the camera I got for you—”

  “The only thing that is being tried is my patience.” She stood. “I am going to the gallery. We have some photographs to hang. And Natalie, it is time for you to take your medication.”

  The door opened, and in walked Tina with a basket full of laundry. Great.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Laundromat not good enough for you?” Val said. “Or is it time for your dutiful daughter routine?”

  “I was coming for a visit.” Tina glared as she walked down the hall, past the guestroom where I was staying, to the laundry room.

  “I’m going to help Mom.” Val smiled as she headed to the door. “Try not to kill each other.”

  I nodded and went to my room for the meds.

  The door was open a crack.

  I always close doors. It was something my parents beat into me. A place for everything and everything in its place. Tina must’ve bumped into it on her way past. Go figure—even when she wasn’t physically present she found ways to piss me off.

  When I got back to the kitchen, Tina was sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine with one hand, twirling her hair with the other. It got really hot, really fast. My vision started to tunnel. Gravity joined in and I fell against the counter.

  “Mom! Val! Hurry!”

  “Oh my!” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  “What happened?” Val said.

  “I-I-I … lost …”

  She left my side and went straight for Tina. A torrent of Spanish filled the kitchen, explosive words I didn’t recognize.

  My head tilted with the room and I slipped into darkness.

  Someone was touching my stomach and it hurt a lot. I tried to sit up, but the pain and gentle hands prevented me from doing so. Focusing my eyes was a task. Val was beside me, holding my shoulders down. Mrs. G and someone else were working on my stomach. Nurse Helen to the rescue! At least I wasn’t in the hospital. Thank God for small favors. I looked at Val, questioning with my eyes.

  “Mom and Mrs. Carey are fixing you up. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Rita, she should really go to the hospital,” Nurse Helen said.

  “Please, no,” I said. “Just stitch me back up and I’ll leave.”

  “You are fine here,” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  I tried to get up again. Val vetoed my efforts a second time.

  “You must lie still,” Mrs. Guerrero said. “We cannot help you if you move about.”

  “She’s right,” Nurse Helen said.

  I relaxed into the softness of the bed. My T-shirt and jeans were gone. Towels covered my bottom half and upper chest. The pain was like an unwelcome houseguest—it didn’t know when to leave. I started to shiver.

  “Val, can I have some water please?” It was getting hard to take a breath.

  “Sure, be right back.”

  “Helen, something is terribly wrong.”

  “She’s hypotensive—flush—rapid heart rate …”

  “Helen?”

  Was I dreaming? What the hell was going on? My confusion and panic deepened.

  “Where are her meds?”

  “On the dresser.”

  “The label’s right but the medication’s wrong—this is penicillin.”

  “She is allergic—”

  “She’s going into shock! Natalie, this is very important. Whe
n did you take your medication?” Nurse Helen said.

  Between the coughing and trying to breathe, I wheezed, trying to answer her, but couldn’t.

  “She needs a shot of epinephrine.”

  “Do you not have it in your bag?”

  “I don’t have anything that can help her. We’ve lost too much time. We need to send Valerie out—you have to start or we’ll lose her.”

  “We must call the others.” Mrs. Guerrero’s voice floated away from me.

  Val came in with a glass of water and a bendy straw. “Here you go.”

  The cold wrapped around me. A coughing fit ensued. Little bits of air swished in and out.

  “Valerie, Mrs. Carey needs you to go to the store,” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  “I can’t leave.” Val took my hand.

  “It is important. Helen, tell her what you need.”

  Nurse Helen rattled off a bunch of stuff.

  “Nat, I’ll be right back.”

  I wheezed around a cough and tightened my grip.

  “Please … don’t … go.”

  “I won’t be long. Promise.” She squeezed my hand, hesitated, then left.

  Breathing was getting harder. Nurse Helen had something in her hand.

  “No drugs,” I said. “I won’t move.” The haze got thicker and my breathing quicker, surrounded by coughs. Everything hurt. I shivered and tried to curl up into myself for warmth. Enigmatic hands held me down.

  “Natalie, stay with us.”

  Who was talking? A wintery chill assaulted me. Coughing and breathing were my only concerns, and it was complicated to do them both at the same time.

  Whispers swirled around me like the morning mist. What was happening? My body reverberated with motion, yet I was lying still. I’d felt this before. Where? At my apartment?

  “Close your eyes, child. Rest.”

  Something gentle passed over my eyes and stomach. My eyes flew open as I fought the sensation. Everything was blurred. Shapes drifted in and out.

  “Need to leave,” I said. Did the words make it out of my mouth? The pain spider webbed through me.

  Susurrations sifted through the haze. There were unfamiliar hands touching me, holding me.

  “Get off me!” It came out as a gasp. I lashed out at the unknown shapes with more kicks and gasps. Unfamiliar hands on my bare body, grabbing my shoulders and arms, pushing, turning me about—my second worst nightmare.

  “Don’t touch me!” Still no words came out. I struggled, but there were too many to battle.

  “Dear God! What did they do to her?” the nameless whispers said.

  “My Lord! I do not know—Helen, sedate her now!”

  A tightness wrapped around my arm and something pinched and slid into me. Warmth coursed through my veins.

  “No drugs! Be good … promise.” The blurry shapes got blurrier. My body felt heavy. Breathing was hard. So cold.

  Plastic bags rustled somewhere nearby.

  “Mom, whose cars are out front? I couldn’t get into the driveway—who are you? Take your hands off her! Get away from her! NOW!”

  Val’s voice was so far away.

  I strained to say her name as the warm darkness tugged at me.

  “Nat, I’m here.” Her voice was isolated from the other murmurs. I looked for her among the shapes, reached for her, but couldn’t find her. The warm darkness continued to follow the loudness of the arguing forms.

  A whisper fluttered by my ear. “Natalie, it is Mrs. Guerrero …”

  I tried to follow what she was saying, but I passed out.

  The voices started out as distant mumblings down the hall and in the kitchen. They became clearer the harder I listened.

  “Is she okay?” Val said.

  “She needs to rest. She can tolerate a great deal of pain, more than anyone I’ve seen before,” Nurse Helen said.

  “I’m moving her to my house tomorrow.”

  “She needs to stay here for a few more days until she stabilizes,” Nurse Helen said.

  “No way.” I pictured Val’s arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll hire a private ambulance and a nurse. End of story.”

  “Would you share what happened to Natalie? Her back—” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  “It’s not my story to tell. Suffice it to say that hell doesn’t describe what’s she’s been through.”

  You keep my secrets and I’ll keep yours. Val and I made that promise to each other a lifetime ago. What happens in hell, stays in hell.

  “If we knew, we could be more helpful.”

  Val snorted. “I’ll run that by Nat.”

  “Rita, I’m going to the pharmacy to see what happened with her prescription. I’ll be back in a little while.” The kitchen door opened and closed.

  Val’s voice went from stubborn to furious.

  “Who the hell were those people holding Nat down? She must’ve flipped out! You know she doesn’t like people touching her!”

  “They are friends of mine who stopped by to look at our photographs. As Mrs. Carey said, there was a mistake with her medication. We needed to restrain and sedate her to prevent her from hurting herself. We had no choice. And do not use that tone with me, young lady.”

  “Unbelievable! This is going to set her back eons! Her parents—”

  “What did they do?” Mrs. G said.

  “Don’t try that cross-examination shit with me. If Nat wants to tell you what happened, she will.”

  Thank you, Val.

  “Your language is inappropriate,” Mrs. Guerrero said. I heard a sigh. “Natalie trusts you completely. She never shares her true self with me.”

  “She trusts you as much as she can. And after this little episode, I don’t know what’s going to happen. You’ll be lucky if she lets you near her.” The pop of a soda can sounded. “This is Tina’s fault.”

  “She would never hurt Natalie—”

  “She’s a spoiled brat who’s always resented the hell out of Nat!” Val took a breath. “If I find out she’s lying, I’ll fucking kill her!”

  “That will be enough, young lady!”

  Holy crap! Mrs. Guerrero lost her temper!

  Tina always had a way of taking a situation and twisting it to get what she wanted, like some evil origami master. As she got older, she got better. She’d done many a mean thing to her sister and me over the years, but did she hate me enough to try to kill me?

  Meanwhile, the argument down the hall raged on.

  “Nat’s been through hell and back,” Val said. “She never asks anything of anyone. She needed our help and we gave it to her. She would do the same for us and has, no questions asked. You and Daddy taught us that you shouldn’t have to ask someone to do the right thing. Tina’s never done the right thing unless it benefited her.”

  “Augustina has always been jealous of your friendship with Natalie, and of you—”

  “Bullshit! Tina and I have nothing in common! If we weren’t sisters, I’d have nothing to do with her,” Val said.

  “I spoke with your sister. She lost her temper and she is sorry for that, but she maintains that she did nothing to Natalie.”

  “Did she tell you why she has a problem with Nat? Did she tell you she hates her because she’s white? Because she’s different? Did she say that shit too?”

  “Valerie!”

  “If that’s the only way I can get you to see Tina as I do, then I’ll swear like Uncle Bobby when he’s toasted at Thanksgiving. And you and Daddy let her get away with everything, every time. But it stops now.”

  “Valerie.”

  Val’s voice softened. “Mom, I can’t lose Nat. You sent me away earlier. Just like you did when Daddy died. I should have been there.” She took a deep breath. “I left Nat when I knew I shouldn’t. I knew something was wrong and I still left. Dammit!”

  For a moment, quiet flowed through the house and then Val’s soft sobs fell into the air.

  “Baby, come here.” Mrs. Guerrero’s gentle voice called her daughter to her.
I imagined her holding Val—with a touch that told of love, warmth, caring, and forgiveness without a word being said. Everything that should be shared through a simple touch between mother and daughter.

  “Hush, baby, hush.”

  Val’s sobbing eased. “I can’t lose her too. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that. I’m really scared.”

  “It is going to be all right. I promise.” Mrs. Guerrero’s soothing cadence was working its magic. “I love you.”

  “Love you too.” Moments of silence passed as Val collected her emotions and thoughts.

  “Better?” Mrs. Guerrero said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wash your face, then please check on Natalie.”

  I shoved the covers off and hauled myself to the edge of the bed. One of my new gigantic T-shirts covered me. How’d that get there? Breathing hard, I pushed up to a standing position. I started to sway, grabbed the bedside table. Everything hurt.

  Val peered around the half-open door.

  “Hey, you’re awake—whoa there. You’re not going anywhere.” She set me down on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sorry I made you cry.” I struggled to get up. “Where’s my cane? Did those people take it?”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Got to leave. Hurt you and your mom real bad.” I wobbled as I stood again, then careened into her.

  “Need my cane. Where’s my pistol? Need keys. Can you give me a ride?” I forgot where I was going. “Need another blanket. Freezing.”

  “I’ll get you another blanket if you stay put.” She placed me in bed and glided out of the room.

  Softness slipped over me. The bed shifted and something skimmed across my forehead.

  “I didn’t tell!” I clutched at the covers, trying to move away. My body wasn’t happy about the escape endeavor. Panic filled my lungs as I swatted at the extrinsic hand. “I didn’t tell!”

  “It’s just me,” Val said. “Take slow breaths.”

  “Sorry. Bad day.”

  “No kidding.” She brushed the sweaty hair from my forehead. “You feel kind of warm. How’s the pain?”

  “Coke.” My mouth was beyond dry.

  “The only thing we have on tap tonight is water.” She lifted my head and let me take a sip from the straw. She was blurry, moving all over the room.