Page 92 of Castle of the Cursed
She nods in assent. “So, what exactly happened? This Sebastián killed Felipe?”
“No, Sebastián said Felipe was already dying, and he could smell my blood from the spell Teo performed. Then he drank Felipe’s blood—which was spiked with mine—and that’s how he got his memories back.” I look around for a shovel just to turn away from her horrified expression. “What if we dig up the body and you can see the puncture marks?”
Beatríz has a hand pressed to her chest. She looks nauseated. “No” is all she says.
“What do we tell Felipe’s parents?” I ask, thinking of Felipe’s loud, happy family, and their colorful faces fade to gray as I picture them receiving this news.
Even though things soured between us by the end, I feel a deep sadness that I won’t share any more attic sessions with him, or see his crooked smirk when I get something right, or watch his eyes light up with excitement over a book.
“They can’t know Felipe died here,” says Beatríz. “If this place becomes a crime scene investigation, the castle could assume it’s a blood offering, like in the old days.” Chills race down my spine at her words. “And with you involved, the sole survivor of the Subway Twenty-Five, the news would be all over it—”
“Felipe’s dead?”
Bea and I spin around at the sound of the new voice.
Teo has joined us in the blood garden, blocking our path back to the shed. I look to my aunt in alarm, but she’s locked into a staring contest with her brother.
Even though they’re silent, unspoken conversation zaps between them, the air charged with emotion. They’re the same height, and beneath Teo’s piercings and tattoos and facial hair, their features are mirror images.
“Así que estabas aquí,” she says to him. So you were here.
“English, for our niece,” he says in an ironic show of chivalry. “I came when I learned you were having a family reunion and didn’t invite me.”
“You’re making a mistake, Teo,” she says to him, ice in her words.
“That’s all I’ve ever heard from everyone. And yet you’ve gone along with so many of those mistakes.”
“I’m making amends. You should try it.”
“Looks like it’s going great. Did you bury the dead boy here?”
Bea approaches her brother slowly, hand in her pocket, probably grasping the syringe. “What did you do to him, Teo? Did you attempt to transfuse Estela’s blood? What equipment did you use?”
Once she’s within a foot of him, she strikes—but Teo’s hand juts out, shoving her arm back into her pocket.
“Don’t even try it, Sombrita. If I go down, so do you. And this time there is a body.”
She seems stricken, and he looks past her, to me. “Poor Felipe,” he says in a mock mournful tone. “He didn’t have to die.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“I just want to bring your sister back. Don’t you?”
“She’s dead. You killed her.”
“Is she? Only one person can find out for sure.” I frown at him questioningly, and he says, “As her twin, you share all the key components.”
“That’s enough!” snaps Bea.
But she’s too late. I’m already hooked. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a spell—”
“The last thing she needs are more of your spells!” Bea stands between Teo and me, as if her body is a wall that can protect me from his reach.
“If she doesn’t do this, Nela’s story will be lost forever,” he argues with his sister. “Is that what you want?”
“How dare you put this on Estela when it’s our fault Antonela’s gone!”
