A Steadfast was normally a woman known well to a witch—a deep friend, a relative, a lover, someone whose loyalty went beyond measure. But Nadia Caldani had only recently come to Captive’s Sound. With her were only male relatives, neither of whom could serve as a Steadfast. So she had drawn upon someone new.

“The gray-haired girl,” Elizabeth said. She looked at the glow of her stove and smiled.

15

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR?” DAD THRUST AN apron at Mateo. Obviously Mateo was still On Dad’s List—which he expected to live on forever, given how many absences the school had reported. “Never mind, tell me tonight at home. Another three minutes late and I’d have docked your pay!”

“Sorry, Dad.” Mateo pulled himself together for the dinner shift. He was almost relieved; after dealing with magic and curses and evil witches and destruction, waiting tables counted as a break. For the next few hours, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything more complicated than whether to serve the guacamole on the side. It already looked like it was going to be a crazy night at La Catrina—most of the tables filled even though it was only five p.m.

Mateo glanced over his area on the floor, then paused as he saw who was at the two-top by the back.

He walked to her first. “Hey, Verlaine.”

“I didn’t come here to talk to you about it,” she said very quickly. “I mean, I didn’t come here to not talk to you. It’s just—I feel like I’m not ready to talk about this with anybody. And I didn’t want my uncles asking me why I was acting strange. But I didn’t want to be alone, either. And I thought I wanted to be near at least one person who would understand why I’m like this. You know?”

Weirdly, he got it. “Yeah.”

“And I’m sorry if I was weird with you about—taking off for a while. I get it now. I really, really get it.”

Mateo shrugged it off. “You need anything?”

“A virgin piña colada and more of these chips. Way more. And later I might need to go into a veggie-fajita coma.” Verlaine leaned back in the booth, her pale skin stark against the red leather. “Did something happen to your hair?”

“I’ll check back with you,” Mateo promised. He started on his rounds—waters for this table, the next already wanted their nachos yesterday, and then—

—then Ginger came in.

She seemed much more together than she had in the barbershop: calm, steady, even smiling. Ginger came to La Catrina a lot, always ordering by pointing to the menu. But she rarely came alone, and he would never have expected to see her again today.

Their eyes met as she took a seat, and even though she wasn’t in his section, Mateo figured he needed to go over and say something. Quickly he dished out the waters and nachos and put in the order for Verlaine’s drink; while he had that moment at the bar, he quickly grabbed his phone and texted Nadia. Ginger’s here at La C.