That was where I needed to go. Somehow I had to convince them to take me into that building.

“In here,” Father Valentine said, gesturing to one of the smaller buildings.

Already caught. So much for trying to be subtle. “What’s over there?” I motioned to the last building, where the road dead-ended.

“Oh, just another house. Nothing in there to interest a young girl like you.”

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

He disappeared into the smaller building on our right, and Matt followed him.

“Go on,” Father Alfred said from behind me.

I’d hesitated just long enough to arouse suspicion, but my body didn’t seem to want to obey the command to go inside.

Father Alfred touched my shoulder. “This way. Nothing will harm you here.”

I managed not to cringe away from his touch. If I’d been a wolf, I knew his words would’ve stunk of lies.

Just do it, Claudia. I stepped through the doorway and immediately felt something brush past me. It felt slithery and slimy. I shuddered and looked down. A row of horseshoes was pressed into the dirt floor.

The small house was warded, but I couldn’t tell what against.

As soon as my eyes adjusted, all I could see was the altar. Incense burned on the stone, and it was surrounded with…

I swallowed. The things hanging there looked like dried baby goats.

What the… I knew some evil brujos used ritual sacrifice in their magic, but I’d never heard of shrunken, dried carcasses being kept as decoration. At least, I hoped they were decoration. I didn’t want to know what they did if they were still active. That idea more than creeped me out.

You’re here for Raphael. Remembering that truth kept me from running out the door.

I took in the rest of the altar. The more I stared at it, the weirder it got. The little deity holding a burning cigarette and surrounded by fake dollar bills took the cake. I’d seen some weird things in my life, but this was just…

Something ran across my shoe and I squealed.

“Calm down,” Matt said. “It’s just a guinea pig.”

“Oh. Right.” Because it was normal to have guinea pigs running through the house.

I took in the rest of the room. A small table with four chairs was placed against the far wall. To my right—the altar. And to my left was a hearth, with grating above it for cooking. In between the oven and the table, a neatly made twin bed pressed against the wall. The only window in the house—if house was the right word—was above the bed, but dark curtains blocked any light from coming through.