DOGS. Legacy Saga II

20

The bells tolled to midnight all over the city cuddled in the warm summer breeze, under a myriad of stars. Marina had tried to sleep after having an herbs tea, but she couldn't close her eyes.

Finally she got tired of tossing and turning, and got up again. The fever was gone, but she still couldn't remember what had happened the night before. She only remembered her nightmare, in which she'd seen herself as her father going for Diego Castillano. She went back to the window, and sat there while she tried to make any sense of the scattered fragments that seemed to play hide and seek in her head. The only clear recollection was the emotions. First the anxiety, replaced later by that cold calm as she closed in on her target. The fury had overcome her as she entered the old house and confronted her father's enemy. The satisfaction of stabbing him. And that burning pain piercing through her body, from her back to her chest. That as far as she could tell, was exactly what she'd felt twelve years ago in a nightmare, the night her father died.

She pressed her temples, as if she could force her mind to retrieve her real memories, completely obscured by those other memories that were not hers, which she wasn't even sure whether they were real or a fabrication of her fevered imagination. How could she remember what her father had lived? It was plain nonsense.

A shuffle below her, in the garden, made her look down, and her eyes fell on the bench under the tamarind tree. Heat blushed her cheeks as she relived Castillano's touch. However, she felt it had nothing to do with embarrassment, as the tingling in her belly pointed out. She didn't know what it was, but she was sure it was not embarrassment.

Ever since they'd met again, she felt a confusing impulse to seek his touch. But not for the touch's sake. Or not only because of that. It seemed something deeper than what she'd always thought physical desire would be. It had to do with a comforting feeling of trust and understanding. That they knew who the other one was and accepted it. It was a need to putting her arm around him to offer him affection and shelter. And the need that he did the same.

She frowned, biting her thumb's nail. Did it mean she'd fallen—? She sat up on the sill when a figure showed among the higher branches of the tamarind tree, to climb toward the house wall carefully. She closed the shawl over her chest when she spotted the fair head among the leaves. What was Castillano doing, climbing the tree toward the cornice? Had he lost his mind? He could fall and break his neck! But he reached the cornice without any trouble and reached her window in three quick steps. She brought her knees even closer to her chest to make room for him. He sat on the sill, looking down with a pleased smile at his deed, and took a moment to face her.

"I would've knocked on your door. But tonight Garrido is on duty, and the only way to put him to sleep is with a hammer to his head," he said in a conversational way. "I just wanted to check on you."

Curling up against the window frame, her toes twisted to stay hidden under the nightgown bottoms, the thumb still against her mouth, Marina only nodded. And she almost fell off the window when he touched her forehead with the back of his hand, to check her temperature.

"Good. Alma told me you had a fever, but it already broke."

Marina nodded again.

"May I ask you a question, Velazquez?" he asked, lowering his voice, and didn't wait for her answer. "What do you know about our fathers?"

Marina's eyes widened. "Why are you asking?" she muttered.

"Why? After what you said last night?" He noticed her look and frowned. "You remember what happened."

She shook her head. Castillano sighed. He sat astride of the sill and rested his back against the frame, studying her.

"Nothing?"