Free Esperanza by Trish J. MacGregor Page B

soon as she returns. She’s the expert on these
brujos.
She’ll be eager to hear all about your encounter with them in the fog, Mr. Ritter.”
    “And she’ll be back when?” Tess asked.
    “In a few days.” The phone behind him rang just then and he excused himself.
    “I guess we should go find cottage thirteen,” Ian said.
    Nomad barked and trotted off ahead of them. The tuxedo cat leaped off the counter and followed, and the parrot swept through the air, joining the procession.
    Dominica watched Juanito Cardenas hurry along the path, carrying several fabric bags probably filled with groceries. He looked around uneasily, but she doubted that he sensed her presence. Ever since she and Ben had taken his parents some years ago, paranoia had been his normal state.
    It surprised her when he unlocked the door of cottage 13 and slipped inside. Thirteen was reserved primarily for guests who had been targeted by
brujos
in some way, a signal to the inn’s staff to remain vigilant. Did Ed Granger know the man and woman were transitionals? Undoubtedly. Manuel, the wild card who had mocked her there outside the bus, probably told him. And if Granger knew, then Juanito and everyone else who came in contact with the couple would find out, too.
    The man and woman emerged from the main building, flanked by Nomad and a black and white cat, with an Amazonian parrot flying low overhead. Now that Dominica saw the woman awake, moving, she got a good look at her—a knockout, nearly six feet tall, slender, curves in the right places. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her long blond hair shining in the early light. The man, bearded and so stunningly handsome, intrigued her. Such a perfect profile, a seductive mouth, long, certain strides.
    She still couldn’t quite bring herself to believe what had happened. The first transitionals in Esperanza in five hundred years. Even though she hoped it meant that more transitionals were on the way, she couldn’t move beyond her suspicion that it was a light-chaser strategy, perhaps concocted to divert the
brujos
from further attacks on the city.
Dangle the carrot, distract them, make them believe the city is open to transitionals again.
But surely the chasers didn’t believe the
brujos
were that stupid.
    Right now, she was the only one of her kind who knew about the transitionals. It was up to her to find out as much as she could about who they were, how they’d gotten here, if they were really protected. Back there on the bus she had been at a disadvantage, unable to assume a virtual form because of the risk it would pose to her from the driver and Nomad. But the dog had sensed her anyway and when she had assumed a form outside the bus, Manuel mocked her and turned the flamethrower on her.
    But once Juanito fixed them herbal tea to induce a deep, heavy sleep, she would be able to study the man and woman more closely. The herb grew in the greenhouses outside of Esperanza and while it probably did help to counteract the effects of altitude, it was primarily a sleep aid. And with these two, it was a protective measure.
Keep the targets sedated until a strategy can be implemented to keep them safe.
And ignorant of the fact that they were in comas, nearly dead.
    She imagined Juanito in the cottage, putting away groceries and supplies, chatting amiably with the couple as he fixed the sleeping tea. Nomad and the cat would curl up by the fire and the parrot would find a perch, completing the silly picture of domestic bliss. Goddamn dog, cat, bird. Goddamn Juanito. Goddamn all of them.
    She waited within a light fog at the edge of the posada courtyard, wishing she could think herself into an insect form, a mosquito, a fly, something small with wings so she could get into the cottage to watch and listen. But even the magic of Esperanza couldn’t make such a thing possible.
    The sun rose higher, spilling light across the inn’s courtyard. The fog burned off. She finally saw Juanito slip out of cottage