Bruja (10 page)

All of the staring made me a little uncomfortable. They were so handsome that they made me feel self-conscious. They could definitely make a calendar of Peruvian hunks. Or more accurately, Peruvian werewolves. I knew Cosette would buy one.

As I took them in, my head started pounding. This time, I hoped it was from the altitude. I rubbed my temples in slow circles.

“Try the coca leaves. They’ll help,” said the hot guy from earlier. Even next to the calendar men, he stood out. His aura was so bright that if I looked too close it felt like staring into the sun. With all that gold, he’d be a summer month for sure.

Mr. July?

“I’m fine,” I repeated as I tried to stop with the delusions and focus on Muraco. The sooner I got to my hotel, the sooner I could get comfortable.

Muraco nodded. “This way.”

The hot guy kept pace beside Muraco as I trailed behind. The rest of wolves spread out, surrounding us. As we wove through parked cars, an unusual gray and pink aura caught the corner of my eye. I tripped over my feet, and the hot guy caught my elbow.

Oh no. It can’t be…
I scanned the area as I gained my feet again, frantically looking for what I knew couldn’t be there. I hadn’t said anything to Matt on the phone about Peru. Had I?

I’d lost my temper, so maybe I had. But I didn’t think so.

No. It couldn’t be him. I was exhausted and seeing things. There was no way he could’ve made it here from New York faster than I had.

The guy shook my elbow, gaining my attention again. His eyebrows bunched together, forming a crease. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I thought I…” I paused. No. It wasn’t possible. “I’m sorry. Must be tired from all the travel.”

Mr. July studied me for a second before nodding slowly, but from the expression on his face, there was no way he was buying it.
Right. Werewolves can smell lies
. Thankfully, he didn’t push me for a better answer.

“Let’s get you to the hotel,” his words were soft, almost like he was worried I’d break.

I smiled weakly at him. “Don’t worry. I just haven’t been getting much sleep lately. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” That wasn’t a total lie. “I’m okay, though. Really.” That was a semi-lie, which meant it was also semi-truth. I wasn’t sure if it would “smell” right, but it was the best I could do.

“Mmm-hmmm,” he said as he guided me to a group of silver vans.

One more glance over my shoulder confirmed that I’d been imagining things. I hadn’t seen him. He didn’t know I was here. No one knew but the wolves and my friends.

My hands shook as I tried to get my backpack off. One of the other wolves tried to help me with it, but one look from Mr. July, and he disappeared into another van.

What the…

Mr. July stepped behind me, lifting my backpack easily from my shoulders.

Why not let the other guy help?
Even after my stint at St. Ailbe’s, wolves baffled me sometimes.

“Hop in.” He motioned toward one of the vans. The other wolves were climbing into the vans on either side of us, but Muraco got into the center van. I followed his lead, sliding onto the bench next to him.

The drool-worthy one threw my pack in the back of the van as I sat and busied myself with buckling my seatbelt.

Mr. July slid the van door shut and I jumped. I grasped my chest and then laughed softly at myself as he got into the passenger seat in front of me.

I was losing it. Imagining Matt here. The combination of high altitude and no sleep was a killer. A good twelve hours of shut-eye and everything would be right as rain.

For a second I relaxed back into my seat, and then I realized where I was. In Peru. With a bunch of wolves and not a witch or coven member in sight should I need them.

I glanced at the four wolves in the van with me. I sure hoped none of them were biters. Because as much as Teresa said she liked her new way of life, I really, really didn’t want to be a werewolf.

Trusting these wolves would either be my salvation or turn out epically bad. With as much bad as I’d had thus far, I hoped I was swinging toward the good. But something told me I might not be so lucky.

Mr. July turned in his seat and gave me a wink.

Maybe being a wolf wouldn’t be so bad…

He grinned, as if he could read my mind, and my cheeks grew hot. Then he started full-on laughing as he turned back to face the road.

Oh boy, I’m in so much trouble.

Chapter Nine

Cusco felt old. Not like any place in Texas—with its freshly paved roads and new buildings. The ancient stone streets rattled the tires on the van. The tiny roads felt even tinier with the buildings crowding in against them. There was barely enough room for the cars to pass, and with added pedestrians, I was convinced we were going to hit something—or someone—before we made it to our destination.

We cut through a little courtyard that was all lit up—it had to be the town center. A Catholic church took up one portion of the square. I made a note of it. I loved to sit in old churches. I didn’t pray that often, but my soul felt quiet and relaxed in them. A fountain stood in the center of the square. Spouts of water flowed down from the top feature—a bronze man holding some sort of scepter.

People crossed into the street without looking and tourists and locals mixed together, enjoying the early night. It was nice to see so many people filling the square. The town felt alive. Vibrant. If my head weren’t pounding with a headache I would’ve asked to be let out here and walk the rest of the way. It was a shame just to pass it by.

“Almost there, princess,” Mr. July said from the passenger’s seat.

“Princess?”

He turned just enough so that I could see his face. “I call it like I see it.”

“Great,” I muttered. He thought I was a spoiled, rich girl. I was neither rich nor spoiled. Was that really the vibe I gave off? Maybe I’d been rude to him back at the airport?

Well, I couldn’t change what must have been a bad first impression, but I could help how I acted from here on out. I had no idea what to call him. Something told me he wouldn’t appreciate being called Peruvian Hottie. “We were never introduced properly. I’m Claudia de Santos. And you all are?”

“Pedrico,” said the wolf sitting in the seat behind me.

“Andrés,” said the wolf who was driving.

But Mr. July hadn’t answered yet. “And what’s your name?”

“Lucas,” he said simply.

“Lucas?” I wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t fit him. Usually the name fit in with the aura. But not his. He felt more…handsome? No, that wasn’t it. Regal? Not quite right. More something…

“Yup.” He paused. “Why don’t you believe me?”

I hadn’t realized I was broadcasting my emotions. “I guess I figured you’re Peruvian. Shouldn’t you have a name more exotic than Luke?”

“No one calls me Luke. Ever.”

I grinned, and it probably looked a little evil. Now I knew exactly what I was going to call him. Why I got so much fun out of playing on peoples’ names, I had no idea. But, when given the opportunity, I couldn’t help myself. “So, Luke. Where are we headed?”

He muttered something that I couldn’t hear, but Muraco could. The old man started laughing—the sound was loud and wheezing—and the other two wolves in the car followed suit.

“What? What did he say?”

Muraco and Lucas—who were nowhere near the same age—looked at each other and started laughing harder. “Boys.” Didn’t matter how old they were, they were all the same. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes for a second, rubbing my temples. Being over two miles up was no joke.

We turned down what couldn’t be considered anything other than an alley, and Lucas parked. “Here you go,” he said.

The hotel looked nondescript from the outside. Only two large wooden doors—as tall as the first story of the three-story building—marked its entrance. A little placard to the side read Hotel de los Siete Cruzes.

Finally. A place to stay still for a little bit.

I hopped down from the van as Lucas grabbed my backpack. Muraco hadn’t gotten out. The fear I’d felt when I thought he left me at the airport still lingered in the back of my mind. Being lost in a foreign country wasn’t appealing in the least. I needed a little direction. A place to start my journey.

I cleared my throat as I stood in the open door. “So, uh, what…umm…tomorrow…”

He leaned forward and patted my cheek. “Don’t worry, child. Andrés will be back—”

“I’ll take her,” Lucas said in Spanish.

“I thought you had things to do,” Andrés said, also in Spanish.

I nearly laughed. They didn’t know I could speak the language.

“Things have changed,” Lucas said with a hint of growl in his voice.

What had changed? Was he reading me as some kind of threat?

Muraco’s gaze met mine and he grinned. “Boys. The girl speaks perfect Spanish.”

“Way to spill the secret,” I muttered, and Muraco’s grin turned into a laugh.

They switched to another language, whispering fast. It didn’t take long before Muraco’s grin faded and he joined in.

What on earth was going on?

Finally Muraco cleared his throat. “It seems that Lucas will be your guide during your stay.”

Mr. July was going to be my guide? No.
That wasn’t going to work. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m okay with Andrés if that’s easier.”

“Eight a.m.,” Lucas said, still growling a little. He came around carrying my backpack like it weighed nothing, but his voice softened. “Don’t be late.” He handed me the pack, and I nearly dropped it. I had for sure over-packed.

“He’s not to interfere, but to help. Protect. The mountains are full of dangers,” Muraco said. “This task is yours alone.”

“Right,” I muttered. No one knew more than I did what was at stake. If Lucas was going to be my guide, I’d make it work. And I’d focus every second on the image of my brother in that awful bed. “I’ll be ready in the lobby before eight. Thank you very much for your help.”

“Try the broth soup. It’s good here. Especially if you’re adjusting to the altitude.” Lucas got back into the passenger’s seat as I slid the van door closed. “And try the coca tea.” Andrés honked twice and then took off.

I was left staring at the entrance to the hotel.
Oh crap
. I didn’t have a credit card. All the travel blogs said you needed a credit card for hotels. I’d thought Muraco would be staying here, too, but that was dumb. Of course he’d go with the pack. And I couldn’t stay with an unknown pack any more than they’d want to host an unknown witch.

It’s fine. I’ll figure this out. No big deal.
Mr. Dawson had sent me on my way with good amount of crisp Sol bills
. Maybe they’ll let me pre-pay for the night.

I stood there, running through various scenarios, before I mustered up the courage to go inside.
No time like the present, Claudia.

As soon as I stepped into the foyer, my breath caught. The entrance was ornately decorated, and huge wooden sculptures of howling wolves stood at either side of the door. A round marble-topped table decked with an elaborate flower arrangement took up the center of the lobby, and one wall had a fireplace surrounded by tables and chairs. The little sofas looked so plush that I could sink into one and fall asleep right then and there.

A woman looked up at me as I stepped to the check-in desk. “Checking in?” she asked in rapid Spanish.

I nodded. Being out of my element was making it hard for me to find my voice. I wasn’t even on the same continent as my comfort zone.

“Name and passport, please.”

“Oh. Right.” I fumbled to get my passport out of my purse for her as the hotel’s front door opened. A cold burst of wind hit my back, but I was too busy searching my seemingly bottomless bag to turn around.

“There you are,” a voice said behind me. “You nearly lost me for a second when you left the airport. Thank God I already had my rental.”

Everything went still for a second. It was like the world paused to take a breath while I cringed in horror.

Oh no
. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was right. I did know that aura. It was one I’d never forget.

I finally found my passport and slid it across the counter to the lady.

“I flew all day to catch up with you. How could you leave the country without telling me?”

And that was it. There was no denying it. I couldn’t stop my sigh. Even the sound of his voice aggravated me, but I was too tired to really fight with him. I shifted the pack on my shoulders as I turned toward him.

When I first met Mathieu, I’d thought his tall, lanky stature was handsome. Maybe he was a little too skinny for me—I didn’t much like the idea of my future husband being thinner than I was—but he was a good-looking guy. His skin was tanned. His light brown hair had golden, sun-bleached strands running through it. He liked to play sports in the summer, and always ended up looking like a beach dude, even though he lived in New York.

Now, whenever I really looked at him, I’d notice his hair had too much product in it, making it look greasy. And his pointy nose and eerie light green eyes reminded me of a snake. An upright cobra, getting ready to strike. Because he would strike. And when he did, my confidence would pay the price.

Not today, Claudia. You’re stronger now. You’re not under Luciana’s thumb anymore.
“I wasn’t aware that I had to ask your permission.”

“Maybe not my permission, but Luciana’s.”

That caught my attention. A sliver of icy fear ran down my spine. “How did she know I was here?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

It most certainly did.

“She called me last night to tell me, and I hopped on the first flight out. I can’t believe I beat you here.”

I swallowed down the panic that threatened to take over. I couldn’t let Matt see how afraid I was, but the knowledge made me cold. There was a spy at St. Ailbe’s. Yvonne and the others had all left the coven of their own accord. But they could be spies.

Or it was possible that a wolf who’d been involved in the attempted pack takeover was still backing Luciana. Either way, I needed to get to my room. I had to call Teresa and warn her. But first I had to somehow get rid of Matt.