Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles by Caedis Knight (hardest books to read .txt) 📗

“Who is it?” Luisa asks nervously.

I sit up with a jolt, trying to think whether Mikayla ever cooked anything in particular. My heart races.

“She’s old,” says Ramon as if he can hear my thoughts. “White hair. Hunched. Cooking.”

I relax back into my seat. No one speaks. Whoever the old lady is, no one appears to recognize her enough to claim her.

“L’escudella,” Jan mutters. “She says she’s snapping chicken bones and adding them to the broth. I can hear her humming a tune.”

“My abuelita!” Xavi is on his feet, running between Alba and Jan. “It’s my grandmother. It’s her.”

“Your grandson is here,” Alba says softly to the person only she can talk to.

Jan tips his head to the side, listening to the silent voice from beyond. He laughs softly.

“He most certainly is.”

“What is she saying?” Xavi says, falling to his knees before Jan. “Is she OK? Tell me she’s no longer in pain.”

“El meu nen,” Jan says in Catalan, cupping Xavi’s face with both hands. “Tan maco i fort. Estic bé.”

Xavi’s chin trembles as he swipes his eye with the back of his hand. “She always said that, called me her handsome boy. Oh my god, I miss her so much. Tell her I miss her.”

“She wants you to keep flying high,” Jan says. “She’s proud of you.”

He lets go of Xavi’s face, and the Shifter gets back to his feet with a shaky breath. Beatriz takes his hand, and I expect him to start crying, but instead he’s grinning the world’s largest grin.

“My abuela,” he says again, turning to us one by one. “I just spoke to my abuela! And she’s OK. I can’t believe it.”

He turns and kisses Beatriz.

Another silence follows, the only sound is Xavi’s excitable whispers to Beatriz about his grandmother. I can’t help thinking about Mikayla and the way she crumbled away in my nightmares. Was that a sign she was dead? Was the vision I saw of her on the New York subway her ghost? Did she have the baby?

“It’s cold!” Ramon shouts.

I brace myself. This is it. My sister is here.

“I see snow and blood. So much blood.”

Blood. My own runs cold as ice as memories of Lukka clutching his brothers’ beating heart in his fist flash through my mind. I start to shake, pulling my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around my legs. I can’t do this. I can’t have a conversation with Konstantin. This is just like him, to try and control me even through death.

Before I know it, Luisa is by my side.

“Can I help?” she whispers. I nod, and she lays a hand on my knee until I feel the fear ebb away.

“I was in Russia…” I stammer. “Two months ago… There was a Vampire…”

“Vampires have no souls,” Alba says, staring into the distance. “They can’t cross the veil. Who is this?”

I try and breathe, but my lungs refuse to fill. The silence is long, loaded, cold. Then Jan starts talking.

“Ansel says you must stop worrying about her.”

Ansel?  My eyes instantly fill up with tears.

“Ansel,” I choke out. “Tell her I’m so sorry,” I wail, burying my face between my knees. “I should have helped her. I could have saved her. Tell her,” I urge Alba. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Alba doesn’t look at me. “She can hear you through me.”

“She says she’s happy. She’s with the man she loves,” Jan says. “You have to let her go.”

Mascara stings my eyes as I rub away the tears. Poor Ansel. Luisa hugs me tightly, and I sob into her shoulder.

“Tell her I miss her, and I wish everything had gone differently and…”

“It’s too late,” says Alba. “The dead don’t stay long.”

“What about my sister?” I mumble. “I need to speak to my sister?”

“Not all the dead want to come through,” Jan says with sympathy.

I look up. The darkness is draining from Jan’s eyes, although the whites remain tinged with grey.

Alba takes a deep breath and also returns, dabbing at her mouth with the back of her hand. She swears under her breath and mutters something about her job being so messy.

“Is that it?” I ask, swiveling around to look at Ramon. He hasn’t moved and I can’t see his eyes from this far away.

“What more do you want from us?” Alba snaps. “Three visits is a lot.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just… I need to speak to my sister. It’s why I came. Does this mean she’s still alive? Can’t you just tell me if she’s OK?”

Luisa places her hand on my arm, and I sit back down. I know I’m acting crazy, but it’s the only reason I came to Barcelona. It’s the only reason I’ve agreed to help my mother find Maribel.

Wait!

“Have any of you tried to contact Maribel?”

They all laugh politely, and my cheeks prickle at the realization that I just pointed out the obvious.

“She would come through if she was dead,” Beatriz says, her tone matter of fact.

“Unless she was killed by magic,” Rafi cuts in. “In which case, no one can speak to a Mage on the other side until their body is found.”

Beatriz looks uncomfortable with this conversation, so I decide to drop it. Tonight has been emotional enough.

“They can find your sister if you have an object of hers,” Luisa says.

Alba gives her a pointed look, but Luisa ignores her. I turn to Jan, who nods.

“She’s right. If someone doesn’t come through, we can go in and find them.”

Alba sighs. “Fine. I don’t mind giving it one more try. Do you have a ring of your sister’s, an amulet, her purse? Something valuable to her?”

I don’t have anything of Mikayla’s on me, why would I?

“I have a photo of her on my phone.”

Jan shakes his head. “It needs to be something tangible and precious. Digital photos don’t carry the energy of the deceased.”

Of course. I have all of her belongings back in New York, I took them back home with me after she went missing in LA, but I have