Witch Lights by Michael M. Hughes Read Free Book Online Page A

comfortable.”
    Ellen’s fists clenched. Lily. She’d half-expected Lily to be the one behind the compound door. But now here was this well-dressed man claiming to be their protector. And how had his goons not found Ray? Maybe they had missed him when he’d gotten into a separate cage on the Ferris wheel. How quickly a small decision like that could change everything. “We can take care of ourselves,” she said. “We don’t need you. Let us go. We were doing fine on our own.”
    El Varón shook his head, frowning. He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. “You don’t seem to understand,
Señora.
If I let you go, she will take you. You do not know how close she was to doing that before I found you.” He stared into her eyes. His gaze was cold and sharp. “I am saving your life and the life of your boy by bringing you here. You will come to understand that. And to see that I am your friend.”
    “Why should we believe that?” Ellen asked.
    El Varón laughed. “You say in English, the proof is in the pudding,
sí
? Well, I said you are my guests and you will be treated as my guests.
Mi casa es su casa,
and that is the truth. You will learn that I am a gentleman with only your very best interests in my heart.”
    Ellen looked at William. The boy wasn’t convinced. And neither was she. But what if what El Varón was saying was true? Could being captured by this man be worse than capture by Lily? For almost two years she had haunted them. Even in their brief times of happiness, she lay coiled and hidden like a snake, coloring those rare carefree moments with her presence. It seemed they had little choice but to play along with this man. At least until they could find a way to escape.
    “You must be tired. And hungry. Come this way. I will show you around and take you to your rooms, and Juanita will make you some lovely chicken.”
    William looked at his mother. Ellen sighed and nodded.
    El Varón led them down a long hall.
    —
    The house was enormous. El Varón, with his two guards, led them past what looked like a rock star’s party room, replete with an enormous TV, video game consoles, exercise equipment, a billiards table, and a KISS pinball machine. “You can play anything you like,” he said to William, who refused to acknowledge him even as his eyes widened. Then they passed a cavernous dining room with a massive mahogany table and at least two dozen chairs around it. A door led into a bright kitchen full of tiny indigenous women swarming around the stove and sinks. The place was enormous and modern, though the decor was a weird mix of folk Guatemalan art and chintz from the eighties. Ellen’s single aunt who lived in Pittsburgh had similar taste—bad abstract hotel room paintings and white leather furniture. The aunt had been more inclined to African masks and tribal statues, while El Varón—or, more likely his designer—went for vibrant, eye-popping Guatemalan fabrics and patterns.
    El Varón stopped in front of a sliding glass door. “The pool,” he said, smiling. “And my
animales.
I have much love for them. The beasts of the earth have always been my most trusted friends—they are true to themselves and their nature. They do not lie.” It was dark out, so Ellen couldn’t see anything. William leaned into the glass and squinted, then turned and shrugged to his mother.
    “My office is down the hall. And rooms for my employees. Nothing that would interest you. But I know you’ve had a long trip and you must be tired. Let me show you to your room.”
    —
    Their bedroom was just inside the front door and up a staircase. El Varón stopped in front of the first door along a darkened hall. “As long as you are my guests, your door will remain unlocked. You may roam freely around the areas I have showed you, as you wish.”
    “That’s awfully nice of you,” Ellen said, trying to contain her sarcasm. She pointed to the guards lingering in the shadows. “Will these goons follow us everywhere we