Abuelita sighed and stared at the body on the floor before her. Someone would come down the hall soon enough, discover the death, and lay the blame at James’ feet. She sighed again. This was not the outcome she intended. James was a nice man who deserved something more, but it was not her job to protect him. Let his own gods and ancestors pull him back from that from that fate.
A small stab of regret made her shudder. If only she’d said no all those years ago when her own abuelita had shown her a tiny bird brought back to life.
“No,” she shook her head. “I cannot regret that of all things.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached out into the world. Melissa was still alive, but barely. Abuelita clicked her tongue in disgust. Bothwa wasted no time in pursuit of his prey.
Fortunate for Melissa, he prefered to play with his food.
Abuelita flashed through the city to the hospital where Melissa shivered in the dim, chilly ICU.
“Abuelita!” she let out a strangled cry and tried to reach out with her right hand, but it was cuffed to the bed. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”
“No, mija,” Abuelita soothed her with a light touch. “I will see you through this.”
“She’s a fun one,” Bothwa whispered from the shadows of the room.
“Your fun is over,” Abuelita’s said, her voice firm and sharp. “She is not a toy.”
Bothwa let out a silky, dark laugh.