By Sun Read online

  Until everyone was free.

  She glanced over to the other side of the rooftop. Izel stood, trembling slightly, leaning heavily on Valeria and Selene. Jacinta carried the older bruja’s cane.

  Looking back at her mentor, Brenda, who stood, one hand shading her blue eyes from the sun, Lucy smiled.

  “Blessed be,” she croaked out. “Let’s move.”

  42

  Jack

  Despite the injunctions to not run, once the building began to shake and crack apart, people turned and moved as quickly as possible away from the scene.

  “We have to get the wheelchairs and scooters out of here!” Terra’s voice on the bullhorn was barely audible over the mayhem of screaming, shouting, rumbling, and shots still being fired.

  “Make way for the wheelchairs!” Jack shouted as loudly as he could. He and Marta unlinked themselves and began tapping shoulders, motioning at people to open up their ranks. People were confused. Not moving fast enough.

  “We need to get these chairs out, now!” Terra bellowed.

  Inhaling, grateful for the bandana that kept most of the dust from his lungs, Jack thought of Lugh and his spear. He recalled man with the staff, bearing a flaming banner of black. Jack called upon what strength he had and imagined a great spear of light extending from his right arm, clearing a path. It worked.

  People moved out of the way almost seamlessly, with barely a stumble. Wheelchairs and scooters rolled by as quickly as possible.

  Jack knew what needed to happen then.

  “Marta!”

  Her cropped pixie hair whipped back his way. Her eyes above the black, dusty bandana looked distracted.

  “Our line needs to close ranks again. Give the ’chairs a chance to get to safety.”

  Protect the most vulnerable. That was the creed. Jack didn’t know how he knew that, but he felt it in his bones.

  Marta nodded.

  “Link up!” she shouted from behind her black bandana, grabbing on to the people nearby, who were pushing toward the back.

  A few of them shook their heads and kept moving, but one by one, black-clad, masked anarchists stepped up and linked arms. Tall and fat. Short and whipcord thin. Brown skin. White skin. A Black Bloc. Jack had no idea who they were. And he found he didn’t care.

  Lugh and Jack both gladly linked arms with these new comrades, then planted their boots on the tarmac and stared down the half-panicked police.

  “Steady,” he said out loud. “Keep breathing. We got this.”

  He heard the people on either side pass the message along, felt spines straighten. Felt the earth rise up to support them.

  Jack took one step forward, the linked line half a pace behind him. Then, as one, they took another step.

  Guns were raised again, in the spaces between the plexi riot shields. Jack felt the bruises up and down his ribs from where the earlier projectiles hit. He felt unbothered. Present. Strong.

  The half-scared nerd was gone. In whatever this D&D game was, the cleric had become the warrior, and Jack felt determined, but fine.

  The line took another step forward.

  Over a loudspeaker, a crackling voice read an order of dispersal. It was half lost in the clamor of the crowd and the screams and shouts coming from the building.

  And then, another wave of crumbling started, as if the building were giving up. As if it, and every person inside it, had lost its will.

  Behind the line of riot cops, people continued to pour from the building, clutching purses and backpacks, dodging glass and concrete. They streamed up the street toward Macadam and the highway. Anything to get away.

  The voice came back over the loudspeaker. “Retreat!” It shouted. “Everyone away from the building! Move in an orderly fashion.”

  The police snapped left, then jogged in formation up the hill.

  “Unreal, man!” the big guy next to Jack gasped out. “That’s right, you douches! Get the hell out of here!”

  The guy slung an arm around Jack’s shoulder in a half-assed hug. “We did it, man! We did it!”

  Jack laughed, and hugged him back, wincing as the man crushed his bruised ribs. Then he hugged the person on his other side, smelling of sweat and cigarettes. The pain was worth it.

  And then Moss, Marta, and Terra were running down the line.

  “Don’t panic, but we’ve got to get out of here! The whole thing is coming down. Back toward the park!” Terra shouted.

  “Turn! Move, comrades! Move!” Moss barked.

  The line of black clad anarchists plus Jack turned almost as one and jogged as quickly as their boots would take them.

  Jack swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead and found it was thick with dirt. He looked up at the rooftop.

  Lucy was gone.

  A flash of blue caught his eye. A macaw feather, fallen from a headdress. It looked like a dropped offering. A blessing for the street.

  Jack kept jogging. He was in pain, and really needed some water, but his heart felt lighter than it had in years.

  43

  Lucy

  Lucy, Izel, Valeria, Jimena, and half of Arrow and Crescent coven were back at Raquel’s, sitting in the air-conditioned living room on the big red couch, fat floor cushions, and comfy chairs grouped around a coffee table in front of a cold hearth. The painting of a younger version of Raquel’s son, Zion, as the Sun Tarot card beamed down at them from above the mantle.

  They had been taking turns in Raquel’s two bathrooms, sluicing off the building dust, pepper spray, and sweat in quick showers.

  Zion and Raquel’s amazingly buff blond boyfriend, Charlie, both rushed around, getting fresh towels for everyone, and bringing out pitchers of cold water and iced tea. Lucy sipped at her own green tumbler of water, relishing the moisture running down her throat, reveling in her clean hair and the clean yoga pants and loose T-shirt she’d somehow had the foresight to leave in a duffle in her truck cab.

  Her whole body ached, which was strange. She didn’t recall doing anything physically strenuous that would account for sore muscles.

  “You okay?” Raquel asked, thumping down next to her on the couch. Dressed in loose blue cotton pants and a T-shirt of her own, Raquel shifted her loose dreadlocks over one shoulder, then stretched and groaned.

  Lucy grinned. “About as good as you, sounds like, though I have no idea why I’m sore. All I did was stand on a rooftop while you all escaped riot cops and a crumbling building.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Raquel took a long drink of iced tea, rattling the cubes in her own glass. “Funny. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to call these things ‘ice’ anymore.”

  “Hey,” Alejandro said, folding his long frame onto a floor cushion, “just think of Ice Cube. He’s still legit, right?”

  “He’s the motherfucking dude,” Raquel murmured. It sounded like she was quoting a song or something, but Lucy wasn’t sure. Not her jam, whatever it was.

  Then Raquel’s eyes were trained on her again. Dark. All knowing. Dammit.

  “Your body is sore because you went into magical battle under full possession by a Goddess who was working through you not only locally, but remotely. And not only on the astral, but on the physical plane. That’s got to cause some tension. I bet your head hurts, too, right?”

  Lucy grimaced in reply.

  “And sustained battle under full possession?” Tobias’s voice came from behind her. He padded into the living room in jeans and bare feet, still toweling his hair dry. “Just think about it. It’s like you did isometric exercise for over an hour. I’m not surprised you’re hurting.”

  “Here’s some ibuprofen, Lucy,” Zion said, holding out a small bottle.

  “Thanks, Zye.” She shook out two pills and swallowed them with some of the cold water. Much as she was hurting, she felt restless, and realized she was waiting for Jack to show up.

  “Anyone heard from Moss and Jack?” she asked.

  Alejandro shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  “We
ll, why don’t you tell us what happened with you and Olivia?”

  He grinned. “Let’s just say the Trojan Horse spit out a bunch of warriors and invaded.”

  “But what is the plan, young man?” Izel asked. She looked older than the day before. The magical working must have taken a toll on her, too. “How are we going to take care of all of those people?”

  Alejandro gestured to Olivia, who was holding up a wall across the room. Strange. For such a large, powerful woman, she sure could disappear when she wanted to.

  Olivia shook her head. “This place isn’t secure.”

  “After we took on the white supremacists this year, Jack made sure my place was as safe as he could make it. Charlie’s shop, too.”

  “Well, that’s not quite as secure as I want it…”

  “Come on,” Alejandro said, “I already made everyone power their phones down as soon as they walked through the door.”

  “And I put them in Mom’s metal mixing bowl!” Zion said.

  Olivia shrugged, and leaned back against the wall again. “Go ahead. Just don’t…”

  “Okay,” Alejandro said, flapping a hand as if to wave away her concerns. Interesting. Hackers were more tight-lipped than witches and two-thirds of the activists Lucy knew.

  “We slipped the horse in behind the audio files… And it captured all of the details on every person’s registration, erasing them from the computers as it went. Phase two is to transfer the files to dozens of advocacy groups throughout the country, spreading them out. That’s what the rest of our crew is working on now. Should be done…” he checked his watch “…in another thirty minutes.”

  Izel sagged in relief and Lucy felt some of the tension she still carried in her own muscles recede. If anyone could figure out how to help the immigrant families, those groups could. They’d been working on it for years, building up networks of trust. And hopefully plenty of safe houses, too.

  Goddess, but Lucy felt tired. Magic had never wiped her out this way before.

  “You all right?” Valeria crouched by Lucy’s side, a tentative smile on her face. Her voice was quiet. “That was pretty amazing, what you did up there. I’ve never seen or felt anything like that. To see La Madre in the flesh like that…it was an honor. I just wanted to thank you.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure what to say. They held each other’s gazes for a moment. “I just did what needed to be done,” Lucy finally said.

  And she realized that was true. She would do it again if she had to.

  But she hoped that wouldn’t be for a long while.

  44

  Jack

  Jack followed Moss into Raquel’s living room. He hadn’t been in the space since her New Year’s Day party. It felt different without a fire in the hearth, and with the AC blasting. He still felt raw, and a little stunned and confused. Bereft even. The battle was over and the God was gone. He wondered if he was ever coming back.

  “Ay Diosa!” Lucy said. “Goddess, Jack, are you okay?”

  Lucy looked clean, sleek, shining, and beautiful. She wasn’t terrifying anymore. She looked like the woman he’d fallen for years ago, except a little older and wiser, perhaps.

  Jack limped into the room. When had he started limping?

  “Other than feeling like a tank rolled over me? I’m fine,” he croaked out.

  Zion came bouncing over. “Want a shower? One just opened up!”

  Charlie came up behind Zion, and placed a large hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’ve got clean shorts and T-shirts laid out on the bed next to the downstairs bathroom. They’ll be too big on you, but better than what you’re wearing. Frankly, you stink a little bit like pepper spray.”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s not spray, it’s those weird projectiles. Right now I’d just kill for a glass of water.”

  He knew he needed to shower, but he really wanted to talk to Lucy first.

  Zion nodded and headed through the kitchen door. Charlie leaned over the couch and kissed Raquel, who smiled up at him, then looked back at Jack.

  “Sit down, Jack.” Raquel gestured to an empty armchair.

  He gestured down at his filthy clothing.

  “I’ll get you a wood chair from the kitchen, brother. Hang tight,” Charlie said. “Moss?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  Jack had forgotten Moss was even there. As a matter of fact, he was having trouble processing anything, except that Lucy was still looking at him. He could feel her eyes on his face, moving between his lips and his eyes.

  And he liked it. Suddenly aware that he must look like shit, he untied his bandana, flipped it inside out, and wiped at his forehead. He was probably just smearing the dirt around, but at least he could get some of the sweat off.

  “Yeah, that’s much better, man,” Alejandro said, voice dry. “You sure you don’t want to shower?”

  Charlie swung a wooden dining chair next to him. Jack noticed he set it near the end of the couch where Lucy was sitting, her long legs encased in, oh my God, was she wearing yoga pants? Jack tore his eyes from the curve of her quadriceps and sat down just as Zion came back in with tumblers of water for him and Moss.

  “Thanks, Zion.”

  “Hey, Jack?” Charlie leaned close to him. “If you ever want to talk about foreign God stuff, I’ve got some recent experience with that myself.”

  “Uh…thanks?” Just when he thought things couldn’t get any stranger, they did. “Are things always this weird?”

  Charlie laughed. “Pretty much, man. Pretty much.” Then he loped back into the kitchen through the swinging door.

  Finally, Jack turned his attention to the woman on the couch. To Lucy.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “I’m good,” she replied.

  Moss cleared his throat. “I’ll take that shower, Zion. And didn’t someone say something about firing up the grill?”

  “That was the plan, but we wanted to enjoy the AC for awhile, while everyone got cleaned up. Let’s move to the kitchen and the backyard, now that we’ve had a chance to catch our breath,” Raquel said. “Lucy? Stay here and direct any latecomers to the back? The rest of Olivia’s people should be stopping by.”

  “Sure.” Jack watched as Lucy smiled at her mentor, who gave her a smirk before heading through the swinging door into the kitchen.

  It took a few minutes for the room to clear. Jack could hear Zion’s excited voice, rising and falling, and the clatter of dishes, water running, and the sound of the refrigerator door opening.

  “Jack?” Lucy called his attention back toward her.

  “Lucy, I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry I was such an ass before. Sorry I blew it. Sorry I didn’t let you know I was just scared.”

  He took a drink of water, and then a breath.

  “I want to be different. That’s why I had to go out on the streets today. I’ve spent too much time sitting in dark rooms, alone. And…” He reached out and grabbed one of her hands. She let him. Her hand was warm, slightly rough with callouses. A working hand.

  “And?”

  “And that God, Lugh…and being around all those people. And the cops. And seeing you up on the rooftop…Lucy, it sounds corny, I know it, but I want to really live. It’s as if I’ve been living some half-life or something.”

  She laughed. “You make it sound like you’re nuclear waste, Jack.”

  He stopped, startled, then laughed himself. “I told you it would sound dorky. But you know what I mean.”

  “Are you not going to code anymore? I thought you liked coding.”

  He looked down at their intertwined fingers, brown and pale, yellow-tinged peach.

  “I’m not giving up coding,” he said. “That’s still important. But I want to do more than that now. I’m going to do more than that now.”

  Then he looked into her beautiful dark eyes. “And I want to try again with you, if you’ll let me. Do you think we can try?”

  Lucy held his gaze, not flinch
ing, but not speaking, either.

  “It’s going to take some time, Jack,” she said finally. “To get to know whoever you think you are right now, and for you to actually get to know me.”

  His heart thumped inside his chest. His mouth grew dry.

  “But?” he squeaked out.

  “But yes, I think we can try.” Then she gave him a wicked grin. “And if you go take a shower and clean some of that grime and capsaicin residue off, I might be persuaded to kiss you later.”

  “Lucy? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” He stood up so fast he almost knocked over his chair. “I’ll be right back.”

  45

  Lucy

  Lucy sat, finally alone, in Raquel’s living room. The scent of grilling tempeh, salmon, and vegetables barely reached her. The sound of the shower filtered down the hall.

  “Madre?” she asked softly. “You still around?”

  She smelled roses and copal, and felt a gentle touch on her right shoulder.

  “Thank you for today,” Lucy said, “and for everything.”

  ::Thank you, mija. You did well. And mija? Give the boy a chance. He has much to learn, but…::

  The presence faded before Tonantzin finished her sentence. The shower shut off.

  He had much to learn, and so did she.

  But maybe they could learn it together.

  Lucy stretched, wincing a little at her poor, abused muscles. Then she smiled.

  Yeah, maybe Jack deserved that kiss.

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  Pick up the next book in series: By Dusk