She shook her head furiously, her red eyes large and horrified. Clutching the cards in her hands, she stepped back until she was just at the edge of the trees.
“I don’t know who hurt you, but it wasn’t me. My name is Julieta.”
I stared at her as she stepped into the shadows, her eyes the only thing I was able to see anymore. My tongue slipped between my lips as I shook my head, trying to figure out a way to fix this, but my mind was blank. “You’re really fucking leaving, aren’t you?” I scoffed.
“I have to. My people need me.” Her voice came out tiny, but I could hear it clearly.
“Your people? Scout—those aren’t your people.”
“How do you know my name?” She demanded.
“I thought you were Julieta,” I shot back.
She repeated her question.
I blinked. “I’ve already told you,” I snarled.
“I—I don’t believe you,” she stammered.“What is your name?”
I stiffened. She took a step back, and I knew this was my last chance to speak. I made perfect eye contact as I answered her silently, connecting our minds with the bond only she and I still shared.
“Desiderio. You call me Desi.”
39
I stared down at the cards. They were faded and wrinkled from moisture, some ripped, some folded, but there were four cards that were completely unharmed.
I picked them up and held them to my face one by one. The Fool. I scrunched up my nose, trying to feel something. A memory, a thought, an idea of what this card could mean. But once again, I felt nothing.
I tossed the Five of Cups, Three of Swords, and the Ten of Swords on my bed and sighed. This was pointless.
A knock on my door had me scrambling to pick up the entire deck and shove them under my pillow.
“Entras!” I called, letting the person know they could come in. My Spanish education was slow going, but I was trying to do better every day. Magdalena had told everyone they were not to speak English to me anymore, so I had no choice but to learn the language.
I exhaled some relief as Jaime came through the door and no one else.
“Hi!” I exclaimed. I hopped off the bed and went to embrace him. He had been the only one willing to defy her rules since I’d returned back to Mexico months ago.
“How are you, Blood Priestess?” he asked me. I rolled my eyes. That was the one thing he didn’t budge on. Everyone called me that, or sometimes, the Young Blood Priestess. I just wanted to be the name my aunt had told me I was given at birth, Julieta.
Since I couldn’t be Scout.
“I’m okay. Bored.” My eyes flicked to the window. Warm air was coming through at a leisurely pace. It brought music and the scent of fresh blood from the Bloodborns down below. Here, every night was a celebration. One that I very much wanted to be a part of. “Can I go down today?”
He frowned, and my heart sank. I hated the nights I was forced to remain in the house on top of the hill. I wanted to dance, laugh, and sing with all the other vampires of the village.
“I’m sorry. The High Priestess wants to see you tonight.”
“Oh?” I glanced down at myself. I was still in my nightdress. I rarely changed these days unless I was leaving. “What about?”
“She wants to see if your memories have returned.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
It had been almost two months since the accident. I didn’t even remember that, let alone anything else. I was almost a stranger in my own skin. I couldn’t remember my childhood or my life after I turned. I had tattoos all over my body I didn’t recall getting, a gnarly scar on my thigh that confused me, and a deck of cards under my pillow I desperately hoped would give me answers.
I shook my head. “I still don’t.”
