“I had to do what I needed to save him,” I said. “You have to understand. I wouldn’t come back without him.”
Understanding dawned in her widening eyes. “Which one?”
“Does it matter?” I asked. “The demon possessed him, and I love him, and I would do it again to save him.”
“One of them was possessed?” She ran her hand over her face. “Jesus, Marta. Are you sure it’s gone?”
I didn’t answer because I wasn’t.
“Fucking hell.” Circe blew out a breath. “If it were up to me, I’d be giving you a fucking medal. Two months alone with your warriors and a demon?” She laughed. “I don’t know many witches who could go through that and live to tell the tale.”
I tried for a smile, but it felt fake even as I pushed the corners of my lips up.
“But it’s not up to me,” she said. “It’s the coven. We all have to agree, and honestly, the way you three looked coming out of there did not spark optimism.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your eyes were black,” she said. “You were covered in soot and brimstone. You reeked of magic, like it was clinging to you, refusing to let you go.” Circe blew out a thick cloud of smoke and shook her head. “It was the stuff you only hear about in old wives’ tales.”
“I had to invoke certain…energies,” I said, glancing down to my lap, refusing to meet her scrutinizing gaze. “I couldn’t do it alone.”
“I don’t doubt that,” she said. “But if you’re a threat to the coven, a threat to the Harlots, we can’t let you stay. You know that, right?”
I nodded. “My tita?”
“She’s here,” Circe said, nodding toward the door. “She’s been waiting for you to wake up.”
“Can I see her?” My heart tugged at the notion that she might say no. “Even though I’m in quarantine?”
Circe thought for a moment before nodding. “I’ll go get her. Don’t tell Lilith.”
She rose and walked out of the door while I tried again to push myself upright, now having enough strength to do it. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and checked in on my warriors. Atlas had finally been left alone, now ruminating over what they would do with me.
“Not going to leave her,” he thought. “They can go fuck themselves, and if they try to keep her from me, from us, I’ll?—”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Don’t let them see you sweat.”
“Little witch.” He sighed. “Did you tell them the truth?”
“Most of it,” I said. “I left out some bits at the end.”
“Good,” he replied. “I miss you. I’m coming to see you.”
“No, stay there for now. Let’s see how this plays out.”
Silence and then a reluctant grunt. “Fine. But don’t think you’re?—”
The sound of Tita opening the door cut him off, and my weariness warred with utter joy at the familiar sight.
“Mi hija,” she cooed as she came closer to sit on the bed. I wrapped myself in her arms, holding her tight as she whispered prayers of thanks to the Virgin and God and all the fucking saints that I’d made it home. We held each other for a long time, probably longer than was necessary, and I berated myself for not feeling…more.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to break myself into pieces and flay myself open. But there was just…nothing. That wrongness infected me. It swallowed up all the emotions I should have had and sucked them down into a bottomless void. My abuelita had been the one stable person in my life. More mother and father than grandmother, she’d raised me as her own. She loved and cared for me when no one else would, and yet…I couldn’t bring myself to show any emotions about being back in her arms.
That concerned me, too.
“Let me look at you,” she said, pulling away to cup my jaw with her firm hands. Her careful gaze ran down the length of my face as she pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Oh, you’ve been through it, huh?”
I nodded. “It was…”
