Midnight Girl Part 5

The first Cat thought, I have to save someone! The second thought, Yes. Me. The professor dropped his swords and reached for a bolt rifle tossed down by a bald man dressed in brown: a safari jacket, cargo pants, and hiking boots. Cat knew his smell before she saw his face.

Uncle Olujimi, with a bolt rifle in both hands and a machete sheathed at his side, dropped into the parlor as Auntie Fong, in a black jacket with a hood over her white hair, stayed on the floor above. Her rifle covered them all.

The first Cat thought, It's a bad joke for my birthday. Fake blood. Toy weapons. Right?

The second Cat thought, Why couldn't I smell them? Ah. The garlic wreaths upstairs. The professor planned this years ago. Why didn't I see the Medianoches are monsters?

As Olujimi snapped his rifle b.u.t.t to his shoulder and aimed at Baldomero's heart, Auntie Fong aimed at Granny Lupe's back, and Professor M aimed at Cat's throat.

She stared into the enormous, dark barrel. His finger tightened on the trigger. She thought, No! I must live! They're evil!

Then a voice, a sweet murmur, as though the speaker wanted to wake a sleeper gently, filled the parlor. "Valentin. Fong Shu. Olujimi Udofia."

The first Cat thought, Who's that? The second thought, Salvation. The three attackers kept their aim at their targets. Olujimi said, "Who?" Auntie Fong shouted, "Shoot them!" Her hand trembled wildly, but her rifle didn't fire. The professor's finger rested against his trigger. He said in a voice neither Cat could recognize, "Zora?" The whispering voice came again, a little louder. "You know we're not your enemies." Olujimi said hesitantly, "It's a trick."

Auntie Fong cried, "Fire! Now! Kill them!" Professor M said softly, "It can't be you." The weight of Granny Lupe's body was lifted from Cat so easily that Lupe seemed to float into the air. But when Cat looked up, she saw someone taller than Granny Lupe, almost as tall as Baldomero, someone whose skin was as smooth and brown as Cat's, and whose hair was as dark as a panther's. Her long black dress wasn't Granny Lupe's shapeless cotton. It was silk, a sheath of smoke. She looked at Professor M and smiled.

The first Cat thought she had never seen anyone so terrifying. The second knew she had never seen anyone so beautiful. The first thought, Impossible. The second thought, Mama.

Her father twitched like a man falling in a dream. His rifle swung from Cat to Zoraida de la Sombra and fired.

Zoraida turned casually to let the bolt pa.s.s. As she did, Baldomero sprang. His right arm hung limp at his side, but he swatted aside Olujimi's rifle with his left and closed that hand around Olujimi's throat, lifting him onto the tips of his toes. As Olujimi gasped for air, Baldomero told Professor M and Auntie Fong, "He lives until you act."

Olujimi clawed at Baldomero's fingers. Though Baldomero's face was ashen and grim, and blood seeped from the bolt in his chest, his grip did not open and his arm was as still and as strong as a statue's.

Professor M said, "Understood."

Looking at Zoraida and Baldomero, the first Cat thought, What are they?

The second thought, What are we?

Auntie Fong still aimed down at them from the ceiling. Her finger still twitched furiously, but it would not close on the trigger. Zoraida looked up and said lightly, "Drop the weapon."

Auntie Fong swung her sights to Zoraida's heart. "No." "Now." Auntie Fong's hand quivered, and her eyes flicked wide. Then her hand steadied, and her eyes narrowed. "You can keep us from attacking you. You can't stop us from defending ourselves. If I believe any of us will die, I know I can shoot."

Zoraida laughed. "Who fears what they can see and avoid?" Auntie Fong said, "Let me shoot now, if you're so sure." Zoraida shrugged. "Even if you get off a shot, you'll watch your family die." The first Cat thought, No! The second thought, Yes. End their threat.

Olujimi gasped, "Fong Shu! Forget us!"

Baldomero whispered, "Hush, Olujimi of the Udofias. Never hurry death."

Auntie Fong told Zoraida, "Let them go. Then your family may leave."

"Not all of us." Zoraida said, looking away. Cat followed her gaze. Ysabel's blood had stopped flowing. Her skin was like parchment. Both Cats thought, She can't be dead! Not Tia Ysabel!

As Baldomero looked at Ysabel's body, his face contorted. He leaned forward as if he would fall to his knees. Then his lips and eyelids narrowed. He drew himself straight and told Zoraida, "They must die. They'll just kill and kill until--"

Auntie Fong pointed the rifle at Cat. "Wait!" Zoraida shouted. The first Cat thought, Why are Dad's family so afraid of me? The second answered, Because they're wise. Cat said, "Please, Auntie Fong! I thought you loved me!" Auntie Fong shook her head. "I loved a girl who died at midnight." Zoraida told Auntie Fong, "We had a truce for fourteen years. Let it last until dawn." "Why should I trust you?" Professor M said, "Because she loves her daughter." Zoraida glanced at him, then said, "I thank you for that much." He added, "In her cruel, twisted--" "You never did know when to stop." "Explains why I married you." Zoraida raised an eyebrow. "Before I met you, I thought nothing of humans. Afterward, I thought even less." "Because you're a waking nightmare that only a fool could--" Auntie Fong said, "Val? Is there any point--" He slumped in his chair. "Is there ever?" The first Cat thought, Dad's suffering. The second thought, Not enough. Olujimi, gasping in Baldomero's grip, said, "What do we get? If we let you go?" Baldomero said, "Another day to dream of destroying us. What could be sweeter to your kind?" Auntie Fong nodded. "Truce. Until dawn." Baldomero looked at Ysabel, then Cat, and said softly, "Agreed." Something smelled bad in the room, worse than curdled milk and rotting eggs. Cat knew where it must come from. The first Cat thought, Tia Ysabel's really dead. She won't dance again. The second thought, Old Cat, you're stupid and boring and useless.

Since Evil Dad didn't kill you, I will. Die now.

Silence told her she had succeeded.

Baldomero lowered Olujimi until his feet were flat on the floor, then released his neck. Olujimi rubbed the outline of fingers on his throat and rasped, "Hope to return the favor soon."

A thin smile flickered across Baldomero's lips. Then he kicked the swords, rifles, and bolt pistol to the far corner of the room and strode to Ysabel's body. Starting to stoop, he winced and glanced at the bolt in his chest. He inhaled deeply, grabbed the bolt by its fins, wrenched it free, and screamed.

Professor M said, "The neighbors will wonder about our parties."

Zoraida said, "Some people get carried away on Halloween. I'm sure you can explain if the police stop by."

Baldomero snapped the glistening shaft in half and dropped the pieces with the other weapons. His jacket and shirt were torn and b.l.o.o.d.y, but the cloth hid what the bolt had done to him. He knelt by Ysabel and stroked her hair.

Zoraida said, "Here's how it's done, nephew." She reached behind herself and ripped the bolt from her back without making a sound. Sweat sprang from her forehead and cheeks. Cat smelled the stink of her mother's pain and hated her father's family even more.

What did her mother think? Her face was unreadable as she watched Professor M. There was a truce here, but no trust.

Baldomero reached toward Ysabel's face and whispered, "Dear mother--" Cat thought he would close her eyelids, but when he touched them, he pressed gently. Ysabel's body crackled and shattered like a sh.e.l.l of old paper. The stench of rotting things tripled in the room. All that remained of Cat's favorite aunt was dark, clotted blood.

Olujimi covered his mouth and Cat's father grimaced. Neither Zoraida nor Baldomero let their faces change, so Cat did not either.

Zoraida whispered, "Farewell, older sister."

Ysabel had been the best aunt anyone could have, beautiful and laughing and generous. Cat wanted to mourn her, but she didn't know how.

Something, maybe a movement, outside the parlor window made her turn. The moon was not up, but she could see into the yard. Two figures crouched in the shadows beneath the trees. Cat sniffed. If not for the garlic upstairs, would she have smelled the people outside? Why had she looked? Had she smelled their guns?

All she knew was she had known to look. She said, "Someone's outside." Everyone in the parlor glanced at the window, then at her. Zoraida turned to Professor M. "Who is it?" He shook his head. Zoraida said, "Alexandra Arkan. And her boy?" Professor M shrugged. Cat thought, Ilya's a monster like Evil Dad? I knew there's a reason he bothered me. The old me. He bothers the new me, too. But the new me can make him sorry. The new me can make him stop bothering anyone.

Zoraida said, "What is he? Fifteen? And that woman made him a killer?"

Professor M said, "What've you made our daughter?"

"We woke her. We didn't change her. Why do you think I waited so long to know what she is?"

"Pretending to be someone else."

"A small price for watching my daughter become herself." Zoraida smiled at Cat, and Cat grinned back Professor M looked at Baldomero. "Something in the wine." Baldomero nodded. "It didn't affect me." "What's in you to wake?" Baldomero looked up at Auntie Fong.

"Call off your dogs." Auntie Fong shook her head. "You think anyone can tell Alexandra Arkan what to do?" "Tell her she may be safe from our will while she's alert. Ask if she'd like us to test the boy. Would she rather have him shoot his mother or himself?"

Auntie Fong said, "I'm not lowering my gun to call."

Baldomero shrugged. "As you wish. The boy could shoot his mother and then--"

"I'll call." Professor M reached slowly into his pocket, showed them his cell, selected a number, then spoke into the phone. "Xandra, they spotted you. They'll control Ilya if you don't leave." He snapped the cell shut. "I'll spare you her exact words. They're going."

Cat saw the shadowy figures moving away. The two she had seen were joined by three more. How many enemies did her true family have? The five outside got into a dark SUV and drove away.

Baldomero said, "We'll follow their example." Zoraida added, "Cat first." Auntie Fong said, "Last. How else can I trust you?" "Because I go last."

"If you wish to sacrifice yourself for her, I'll indulge you." Cat said, "No! Mama--" Zoraida smiled at her. "Our only plan is to leave. Cat goes first." Auntie Fong glanced at Professor M, then nodded.

Baldomero said, "If Zoraida doesn't follow quickly, be a.s.sured, I'll be back faster than you can gather weapons."

Zoraida told Cat, "Go, my darling."

Cat took a last look at the b.l.o.o.d.y pool that had been Tia Ysabel, then turned and strode from Casa Medianoche. As she went, she wondered how she had seen her father's family as funny Uncle Olujimi, strong Auntie Fong, and boring Evil Dad. They were beasts. They did not deserve an instant of her thought.

Besides, she was thirsty.

Chapter Six.

An Unexpected Gift.

Walking onto the lawn, she saw the neighbors' cat. She stooped and said, "Here, Boswell. They should keep you indoors. Anything could happen to you." She held out her hand, wondering what would ease her thirst. A lemonade? A milk shake? A mango la.s.si? No. What could be better than a mango la.s.si?

Boswell snarled, leaped backwards, then spun about and fled back to his house. As Cat heard the pet door close, Baldomero came down the steps of Casa Medianoche. "Sorry, Princess. No cats for Catalina unless you're fast."

"They always liked me." Did Boswell's reaction bother her? She had planned to have dozens of pets when she was an adult in her own home.

"Dogs will fear you at first, but they're good company for us. They'll warn you if someone comes while you sleep."

Cat shrugged. Pets were part of Old Cat's concerns. "I'm thirsty." "Don't worry. We have something waiting for you." She looked at his b.l.o.o.d.y clothing. "I hate my father's family." Zoraida walked out of the house. "I have the brightest daughter." Cat hugged her, thinking Best mother ever, and said, "What about Tia Ysabel?" Baldomero straddled his bike. "We'll do what we always do when they kill one of us. We'll never forget her." He started the bike with a roar. "And we'll make sure they never do, either."

Zoraida kissed Cat on both cheeks. "Ride with him, my fierce one." "But how'll you--" Zoraida smiled and became a black wolf. "The cool!" Cat said, then looked at Baldomero. "Who was the white one? The one who saved me from the Arkan's van?" He grinned. "Guilty as charged." "Can I be a wolf, too?" "Soon," he answered as they watched the black wolf lope down De Anza Street. "Wait till you run with us beneath the full moon. Then you'll know it's worth any price to be what we are."

"What's that?" "The children of the night. The gray neighbors. The fair folk. The quiet ones. We are what we are. Their names for us don't matter." Did the black wolf run faster than real wolves could? As her mother disappeared around a corner, Cat asked, "Why do you have a bike?" "Enjoy all things, my princess." He raised a black helmet and held it toward her. "Do I have to?" "Honor Ysabel's last lesson. We aren't immortal. Wise bikers say you should spend as much money on your helmet as you think your head is worth. Yours, I a.s.sure you, is worth at least the price of that helmet to me, and should be to you, as well."

"Oh." Cat let him lower the helmet over her head and fasten the strap. It smelled like him, something like mesquite smoke.

"Now," he said, "hang on tight."

Hugging his cool, lean body was easy. They sped across the yard, down the driveway, and onto the street. Cat shouted, "You don't have the headlight on!"

"No one will notice." "But if the police see us--" "They won't notice seeing us." "Really?" "I'll never lie to you, Catalina. Really." She hugged him tighter. Only her father and his family had lied to her. They roared through downtown. The streets were nearly empty. She saw a few groups of people in nightclubbing clothes, a couple of police cars, a few homeless people. Though the motorcycle roared as they shot through red lights and sped past cars, no one looked at them.

Cat checked their reflection in store front windows. They weren't invisible. They simply weren't noticeable.

She said, "Can I do everything you can?" "Eventually," he shouted. "Maybe more!" "Ex!" He slowed near the Tucson Museum of Art. The neighborhood had been expensive once and was becoming expensive again as old homes were being restored. He parked behind a large Victorian house painted in red with gold and purple trim. A sign identified it as the Gold Mountain Bed & Breakfast.

She caught a whiff of something she knew. Before she could recognize it, Baldomero opened the back door of the B&B. "Coming?"

She nodded and hurried after him.

The house had wallpaper with intricate patterns, oak wainscoting, gla.s.s door handles, bra.s.s fixtures, lampshades with ta.s.sels, and Persian rugs covering most of its gleaming wood floors. Cat smiled, then frowned.

Baldomero said, "Something wrong?" "Evil Dad calls this Hollywood Wh.o.r.ehouse." "You don't like Hollywood Wh.o.r.ehouse?" "I don't like remembering Evil Dad." "None of us like remembering our lives before." A hint of sadness in his voice stopped her from asking "before what?" She knew: before becoming night people. It was strange to think of the de la Sombras having histories. She said, "Tia Ysabel always looked the same at my birthday! But I never thought it was odd."

He nodded. "She did the don't-notice thing." "We do it without thinking. So humans will ignore small things that should seem odd about us." "Hypnotism." "The old word is glamour. Turn it up a little, and humans will like you without knowing why. Turn it up more, and they'll obey you, even if they hate you." He opened the front door and looked out at the tree- lined street.

Cat smelled the night. Even near downtown, under the tang of automobile exhaust and gas furnaces and street tar, she knew the desert scents of plants and earth and animals. She liked them better than this house. The B&B stank of perfumes and air freshener and deodorant and humans.

"Is Mama late?"

Baldomero shook his head. "Wolves run about thirty miles an hour. Give her a minute or two."

She wouldn't mind if her mother took all night. Cat liked being alone with her cousin. "Do we get old?"

"Physically? If we want."

"Good. Looking like a fourteen-year-old for more than a year would suck."

He smiled. "You look fine." "I want to look twenty-one. I could go anywhere." He laughed. "Why rush? You've got all the time you want now to be anything you wish." She smiled up at him. "And do anything I want?" He grinned. Galaxies of possibility swirled in his golden eyes. She leaned toward him and thought, Kissing cousins. It's okay. He frowned. "Cat? You all right?" She nodded quickly and stepped back. Whatever she might be, whatever she might feel, she was a child to him. Would he laugh if she tried to kiss him? No. He was too nice. He would pity her. Nothing could be worse than his pity.

How much of a kid was she, compared to him? He had started giving her costumes when she was one. If he'd been seventeen then, he was thirty-one now. In seven years, she would be twenty-one, and he would be thirty-eight. He wouldn't think she was too young then.

"Baldomero? How old are you?" "Age doesn't matter. Only the spirit does." Maybe she should kiss him. "That's what I think." He nodded. "Except in romance. People who seek younger lovers are pathetic or exploitive or both. You have to pity anyone who falls for them."

"Oh," she said softly, thinking, Great, even as a night person, I'm pathetic. She made herself laugh. "Yeah, kids like that are the sad. So you'd want to be with someone born in--?

"1732?" He laughed. "Hardly! Give me someone fun, and she can be seventeen or seven hundred. Got anyone in mind?"

"If I think of someone, I'll let you know." She thought, In two years, three hundred and sixty-four days, and twenty-three hours.

The faint sound of padded feet running on asphalt came from the street. Almost as soon as Cat looked, Zoraida was walking up to the B&B. As she entered, she said, "Where are the servants?"

Baldomero shrugged and closed the door behind her. Zoraida called, "We've returned! We thirst!" Cat heard doors flung open upstairs, then footsteps racing down carpeted steps. An Asian man and woman came in slippers, pajamas, and robes. The woman was pretty. Cat glanced from her to Baldomero, but he was ignoring the humans as he slumped into a chair. She understood. The humans made her uncomfortable. They seemed embarra.s.singly desperate for approval.

She said, "You glamoured them?"

He nodded. "In the most thorough way." He unzipped his jacket. His white shirt looked new. Cat squinted. So did his jacket. She glanced at Zoraida. They both wore the same clothes they had earlier, his gray leather, her black silk, but the clothes seemed new. What else could nighters do?

Baldomero announced, "The usual for my sister and me." He looked at Cat. "Water for Catalina."

"Of course," said the man. "At once," said the woman. Cat said, "Water?" Zoraida said, "There's something special for you later, my fury."

Baldomero nodded. "It's your first night." His p.r.o.nunciation made her hear capital letters: First Night.

Well, it was her first night as a night person. Why shouldn't there be something special to go with it? "What?"