“Interviews? For a wedding video? What the hex is going on here?”
Mom winces. “Honey, don’t curse on camera. It’s gauche.”
I sigh. That’s my mom. Concerned about appearances, as usual. Time to change the subject. “Where’s everyone else?”
Mom flashes a smile at the cameras before she answers. “Your sisters are in the ballroom.”
“I’m going to go find them.”
“See you later, honey. Don’t forget about your interviews!”
“Sure thing, Mom!”
Yeah, right. I’m not doing any flipping interviews.
I wave goodbye to them and duck into a hallway that I hope will take me to the ballroom. With the way the house has changed, who knows what’s popped up since I was last here.
I wander for fifteen minutes looking for the ballroom. My journey takes me through a tiled courtyard full of lush greenery that smells and sounds like a rainforest. Then I get lost for a while in an echoing stone corridor, where dust motes drift in shafts of light that come from nowhere. I also pass through multiple sitting rooms done in classic Miami style with clean white lines and the occasional pop of beige or blue.
In the last of these, something framed on the wall makes me pause.
Oh for… Who the hex put my high school diploma here?
I glare at it for a moment, then keep walking, but the memories aren’t so easily left behind.
Like all the other young witches here, I graduated from Isla Bruja Preparatory Academy.
Unlike all the others, I graduated as salutatorian.
That’s right. Salutatorian.
Second. Mothereffing. Place.
At the time, it felt like the worst moment of my life. Silly, right? But I’d been gunning hard for the valedictorian spot. Unfortunately, my rival, Diego Paz, had been jockeying for it just as fiercely. By the time we reached senior year, my fashion business was already booming. The night before a final exam, I stayed up late to finish a gown for Diego’s mother, of all people. She’s the current High Moon Priestess of El Templo de la Luna, and turning her down hadn’t been an option, even though she’d been a nightmare to work with. I swear to Sol, this woman required so many adjustments to the design, it’s a wonder there was anything left to the dress. Long story short, I didn’t do as well on a divination test as I normally would have. That slight misstep gave Diego the edge he needed to take the top spot.
To this day, I wonder if his pendeja of a mother did it on purpose.
Bitter, who me?
I need to get over it, though. Diego’s older brother is about to marry my sister, and the whole Paz family will be tied to mine forevermore. All because my creations made us famous. Before that, my dad was just a financial and astrological adviser to the richest families on Isla Bruja. Now, the Cartagenas are one of the richest families on Isla Bruja.
Hence this accursed corporate merger. I mean, wedding.
I finally find the ballroom and holy hex, it’s four times the size it was when I was last here. It’s decorated like something out of Versailles, which is fine if you’re a dead French royal but kind of weird for a family of Puerto Rican witches. Round tables are positioned around the room, ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight and the reception on Sunday.
My older sister Caro stands between Matteo Paz, her husband-to-be, and our sister Crystal. Four camera operators loiter around them in a loose circle. Our two youngest sisters, Cleo and Corinne, are nowhere to be seen.
Caro’s shorter than I am, but other than that, we could be twins. Same dark cat eyes, straight nose, pointed chin, and golden-brown skin. Crystal towers over both of us, and she has a big personality to match. Caro is sweet, but pushy. Crystal is funny, although her humor tends toward mean at times.
And me? I’m the ambitious one. The competitive one.
Caro’s features are just a little more delicate and prettier than mine, and after years of having our faces compared and coming in second, I decided to differentiate myself by kicking ass in school. So what if I wasn’t the pretty one or the funny one? I was the smart one. I excelled in all my classes, and my magic is more powerful than the two of them combined.
Was.
My magic…was more powerful.
Shit. Gotta remember that. It’s easy not to think about it in New York, but here, everyone expects me to be like I was before.
