Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [111]
“The mambo . . .” I shifted my weight, trying to get into a more comfortable position as I knelt beside our unconscious companion. My gris-gris backed bounced a little. Lopez’s slack facial muscles suddenly quivered. He made a little snuffling sound and turned his head away from me.
My heart leaped. “Lopez?”
He was silent and still again.
Jeff said, “I think that thing around your neck irritated him. What is it, anyhow?”
I felt a rush of relief. “So he’s responsive!”
“Well, not so responsive to getting his head bashed against the doorjamb,” Jeff said. “But, yeah. I would say his senses are starting to function again.”
I returned to stroking Lopez’s hair. He made a brief, faint sound of contentment.
Jeff added, “All his senses, I guess.”
“You see?” Max smiled reassuringly at me. “To be mounted by a Rada loa can be quite draining, but it’s not meant to be harmful. The Rada are benevolent spirits.”
I expressed the dreadful fear welling up inside me. “Max, do you think Mambo Celeste did this to Lopez deliberately?”
“No, my dear, I don’t. She opened the gateway to the spirit world, but she does not control the Rada. No one does. And although I realize tonight’s events were alarming for you, they were nonetheless a very positive sign in the context of Vodou beliefs. The community has been given evidence that Ogoun is watching over them.” Max added gently, “He is a warrior and a protector. A fitting match for Detective Lopez.”
“He struck me as a letch and a drunkard,” I said.
“The loa have robust appetites,” Max said tactfully. ”They enjoy indulging in physical sensation when they manifest.”
Jeff added judiciously, “Pretty athletic, too.”
Max gazed at Lopez with a thoughtful expression. “Even so, despite the obviously compatible pairing of Ogoun with our companion, I find it puzzling . . .” He shook his head slightly. “No, intriguing. I find it intriguing that an outsider was chosen by the loa for such an honor tonight. A stranger. A nonbeliever. That is most unusual.”
Our gazes locked. I realized what Max was thinking. Perhaps tonight’s bizarre episode was a heavy hint from the spirit world that he was right and there was indeed more to Lopez than met the eye.
Seeing my inquisitive frown, Max shrugged in silent response. Then we both gazed contemplatively at Lopez’s peaceful, oblivious face.
“Well, I’m guessing he’s Catholic, right?” Jeff said prosaically, breaking the spell. “And those folks tonight were . . . sort of Catholic. So maybe he just really got into it.”
“That was nothing like a Catholic service,” I said.
“Oh, like you’re an expert.” Jeff began rationalizing what he had seen. As I certainly knew by now, this was a common reaction to mystical events. “Anyhow, people do amazing things in a state of religious ecstasy. Piercing their bodies without bleeding, walking on hot coals, playing with venomous serpents, speaking in tongues . . . How religious is Lopez?”
This question seemed to interest Max, who looked at me with pert curiosity.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, never having discussed the subject seriously with him. “I get the impression that his family is religious, and I know he practices the faith to some extent.”
“There! You see?” Jeff seemed satisfied.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “His attending Mass once a week does not explain what happened tonight.”
“Whatever. And as long as he’s all right when he wakes up, I don’t really—” Jeff’s cell phone rang. “Hey, maybe this is Puma calling, wondering where we are.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked the LCD panel. He looked surprised when he saw the caller’s name. “Oh! Finally.” He met our gazes as he answered the phone and said, “Frank. Thanks for calling me back—after I left you at least five messages.”
Max sat up straighter, listening to Jeff’s side of the conversation with alert interest. I ceased stroking Lopez’s silky hair and clutched his shoulder