The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

I clutched my cane. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I have this. And Rosie.” The dynamic duo was together again!

Rosie barked in agreement.

Ixtab looked down at her. “I hate to give her up. She would have made a wonderful hellhound.” Then she ducked back into the cab. “I’ll be seeing you again, Zane Obispo. It’s inevitable.” As she closed the door, I swore I heard her tell the esqueleto, “Now take me to that dreadful Aztec king.”

As soon as the cab had disappeared, I saw Mom running barefoot from the house toward me. Her dark hair blew across her face. I hurried over and hugged her. Either she’d shrunk or I’d grown, but either way it felt great to be home. Yeah, I know it wasn’t New Mexico, but home is where my family is.

Hondo was right behind her. He shook his head and socked me in the arm “Diablo! You did it. You actually did it. Well, I helped, but still!”

“Diablo?”

“Your new nickname! You earned it by killing the god of death! Totally perfect, right?”

“Yeah. No!”

Mom was crying, hugging, crying, mumbling, naming every santo in the universe. She wiped her face and said with a smile, “I bet you’re hungry. We’re grilling steaks. ¿Tienes hambre? Maybe something to drink?”

Rosie half groaned, half whined. Mom blinked and looked down at her for the first time. “Hey, girl.” She knelt down and scrubbed her neck with both hands. “You’re even more hermosa than the last time I saw you!” Rosie danced in place, fish-tail wagging her body. That’s what I love about my mom. She always knows the exact right thing to say.

We started for the house and I looked around. Hondo knew who I was searching for.

“She hasn’t been here.”

Oh. I waited for more, but Hondo didn’t say anything else about it.

My heart sank. I mean, wouldn’t yours? Not that I liked Brooks (as in like her) or anything. It for sure wasn’t like that between us. Brooks barely tolerated me most of the time. I just wanted to talk to her about everything that had happened. You know—say good-bye on the right note. I mean, she was annoying, and brave, and controlling. And she was complicated, and smart, and amazing. I definitely didn’t… Never mind.

A few minutes later I was sitting under the palm-covered porch, eating flautas (heavy on the salsa) with Mom and Hondo. I filled them in about everything that had gone down with Ah-Puch and Ixtab. Hondo told me that he and Jazz and Brooks had been sent from the Old World back to Venice Beach. Apparently Jazz had sold his shop there so he could open a new company, AGE: Advanced Giant Engineering. And Brooks was with him, wherever he was. The good news was that once the gods read what I had to say (and hopefully they’re slow readers), they might give Jazz a pass, since he was in the dark for so long. But Brooks? No chance. She had aided and abetted a wanted criminal. For sure, they wouldn’t forgive that. Which meant she would always be in danger.

“And Quinn?” I asked.

“You mean the gorgeous sister who nailed Ixtab with a bolt?” Hondo asked with a wide grin.

“Okay…”

“Haven’t seen her. Not since we got back to Venice.”

Mom reached over and grabbed my hand. “We have so much to talk about.”

Yeah. Like Dad. But there was plenty of time to catch up about him. And everything else.

I grabbed another flauta and set it on my plate. “I, um… I’m sorry I dragged you guys into this.”

“This?” Hondo looked around. “Yeah, it’s a real hellhole.”

“But… what will you guys do for work? Like, I know how much you loved New Mexico, Mom, and now it’s all gone.”

“I can learn to love anyplace as long as we’re together.” Mom let out a light laugh. “This beautiful house is a gift from Ixtab, and Hondo and I have decided to open a bike and surf shop. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Like Jazz’s?”

“With a few tweaks.” Hondo crossed his arms and leaned back. “I’m going to offer wrestling lessons for tourists’ kids. Total Nacho Libre! And you’re going to love the island. Population sixteen hundred, and twenty-six miles of white beaches.” Then his face fell. “There’s only one downside.”

“Too many people?” I teased.

“No cars allowed. Only golf carts,” he said. “You know how slow a golf cart is?” He shook his head. “It’s tragic.”

Familiar footsteps sounded and when I turned, you wouldn’t believe who I saw waltzing through the house. Mr. O and Ms. Cab! Thankfully, she was in human form again.