Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I had no clue what Onyx was into, but I had a strong intuition he was the man behind that mask, and the fact that he just mixed our blood freaked me the hell out for obvious reasons, including any diseases. Grabbing the bike I was going to take earlier, I walked it outside of the garage.
On my way out of the estate, I saw Deja driving into hers. She was in front of her gate, sitting in her BMW convertible, typing in the code to open it. Her music was blasting, and I didn’t think she’d be able to see me in the dark. Somehow, she did.
She shrieked, her hand over her heart. “You just scared the shit out of me!” Her stare immediately shot toward my arm. “Oh my God! Are you okay?” Before I could respond, she ordered, “Get in! I have a first-aid kit!”
Reluctantly, I did, knowing I was entering enemy territory.
Was Onyx behind that mask? Is that why my body reacted to him?
I couldn’t tell you which was worse: him stalking me or it being a stranger…
I thought about it the entire time she parked her car in an enormous garage. There were maybe forty, fifty special editions, so many one-of-a-kinds, just parked there, looking pretty. It was giving luxury warehouse for vehicles and not someone's personal parking space. This was the first time I’d stepped back into this estate since I arrived the night of my welcome surprise party.
Memories tore through my mind, and I tried to focus on the present, too consumed with what just happened.
Is this the plan? Why did he mix our blood?
It felt sacred, ancient, even demonic, and I hated that most of all. Brujería, also known as black magic, was a big part of my culture, and because of my last name and what it already stood for, I stayed away from it. It didn’t mean I didn’t believe in it. I knew wholeheartedly about its power. It was engraved into us as children. Right from the womb, a red string or a gold bracelet was wrapped around our wrists for protection.
Babies and children were the easiest to succumb. It didn’t take much to spook a child. Even if they didn’t mean to, a stranger’s stare could be that potent to an innocent life. It was why they were heavily protected from our families at such a young age.
My mom and grandmother were constantly doing la limpia con huevo, an egg cleansing of your body, to protect you against negative energy or ward off the evil eye. Spiritual magic existed every day. It didn’t sleep; it didn’t need to rest; it was available for the taking from anyone, anywhere. It was what made it so damn powerful, and in the wrong hands, it could do a lot of damage while destroying lives in the process.
Mythology proved that gods always required sacrifice in some form. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. Sacrifice was the exchange to get everything you ever wanted, especially when it involved blood.
Before we even made it into her home, I grabbed Deja’s arm at the door, stopping her from facing me.
“The initials B.O.B. What do they mean?”
Her eyes remained on mine, not saying a word.
“It’s the Brotherhood Luna warned me about, right? What do the other letters stand for?”
“Hennessy—”
“No, don’t bullshit a bullshitter. Tell me the truth. Please, I’m begging you.”
“Hennessy—”
“Please, Deja!” With praying hands, I expressed, “You want me on my knees too? Just give me something, please...”
She glanced all around the garage, blinking one eye at me. It was her subtle way of letting me know she couldn’t share anything there. We were being watched, giving me hope that maybe she’d actually answer my questions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that, but I can help you with your arm…”
I faintly nodded, inhaling a deep breath before following her inside.
Her mansion looked the same. Nothing was out of place, similar to my uncle’s. Their staff was everywhere, but nobody looked in my direction. Deja wrapped a new towel around my wound. Luckily, it hadn’t bled through, but something told me the staff would’ve still minded their own business if it had. They were paid to.
Once we were in her bedroom, I felt a little safer, if that made any sense. She rushed into her bathroom, exiting with a first-aid kit in her hands. Her room was the size of someone’s whole house. It was what I’d imagine her suite would look like. It was very her, with the over-the-top gold details in the build and the furniture.
I could tell every piece of furniture and the decor was passed down. She held millions of dollars’ worth of antique pieces alone. From the paintings on the walls to the sixteenth-century rugs and the seventeenth-century gold canopy bed frame. It just screamed wealth. It looked like a queen lived in there.