Page 32 of Echoes of War

“No, ma’am, I do not.” Amaia smiled at her, the tension between the two easing. “I do, however, understand.”

A smile crept onto Lola’s face and she moved to grab Amaia’s hand, guiding us to the largest treehouse. Her home.

An older woman, with fierce features and harsh lines on her face appeared. Despite her tough exterior, kindness seeped from her as she placed two cups down in front of us.

“Horchata,” she said, proud of her concoction.

Tiago had made it for us during the few holidays we’d been able to spend together. While his remained alcohol free, María’s was not. She’d gotten me fucked up on more than one occasion. At the time, I’d been grateful, needing the relief from my travel, but now, there was one person here who didn’t need such a distraction.

I scooted the drink away from Amaia toward me, careful not to insult her. “Ella está bien, María, gracias. Tomaré su ración.”

Her nose scrunched as she scrutinized the denial of food before noticing the tapping of Amaia’s leg. Understanding washed over her, and as quickly as she had entered, María disappeared into the semi-functional kitchen Lola had in the back.

“What is this about, Alexiares?” Lola asked, always one to get straight to the point. “I heard you fled The Expanse eight months ago. I did not expect your return so soon.”

“It’s a long story,” I mumbled, not sure where to start.

“Lucky us, it’ll be dark soon. We have all night to cover it.”

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it and grateful for what she considered an invitation to stay. Then, I told her everything. From the moment I returned from my last trip here, to dropping off the boy who had greeted me earlier. Jensen and his father had been the reason I had fled, unable to complete that last mission for Finley. I recalled how I’d ended up in Monterey, and how that had led me back to The Expanse, to Duluth. Amaia glared at me in warning, but I knew I could trust Lola. She was one of the last people in the world whom I did trust, and she trusted me all the same. Our relationship depended on it.

María had returned with some Fresca for Amaia, followed by two large plates of rice and beans for us both. Amaia scarfed it down, noting how delicious it was, which brought a smug grin to both our hosts’ faces. I wasn’t sure what María was to Lola, only knew she was always present. Always taking care of her, making sure she was fed and remained sane. María was Lola’s Riley at first glance, but I caught the looks they stole toward each other and couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it.

“That explains why we’ve had people snooping around lately,” Lola muttered. More to herself than to the rest of us at the round wooden table.

I nodded my regretful agreement, “She found out where Jensen and his father went from one of the others in the area. I’m sorry if it’s caused you trouble.”

“The only trouble comes from those who live to tell the tale.”

Amaia grinned at her in response. “I like her.”

“Igualmente,” Lola said, sliding the extra bowl of rice and beans María had brought her toward her.

Amaia turned to me, it was her turn to ask questions. “You brought the people here you were meant to kill?”

“In the latter part of my time at St. Cloud, yes.” I had zero regrets about any of it, regardless of how it made my situation end up. “Mostly children, adults too if they really didn’t deserve it or weren’t total dickheads. The people Sloan talked about, some of them were good people. Others were nightmares personified, I was doing the world a favor.”

Lola's head tilted, a motion I’d learned to recognize as coming before a subtle taunt when it came from her. “Yes, your boyfriend here found himself on the other side of one of my death spells when he’d realized what we had here. Lucky for him, the stars aligned that night and I was in a rather merciful mood for his pitiful looking face. We made a deal: he brings any children that woman orders dead to me, I won’t kill him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” we echoed at the same time, both whipping our heads around to stare each other down.

Lola smiled knowingly. “Claro.”

“Why would Finley want children dead?” Amaia asked, clearly mortified.

I wasn’t sure why. Nothing she’d seen or heard of Finley had indicated that the woman had any redeeming qualities. Maybe the fact that I had married her had led her to believe that there had to besomething. The thing was, there wasn’t. I was blinded by beauty,and desperate for any ounce of affection. Finley had recognized that and made me her prey.

“Because she’s Finley,” I said definitively, my voice rough at the thought of her, “and a threat to her gaining power doesn’t have an age. A threat is a threat.”

“My children are promising. Since they developed their gifts early on in life, they had an easier time adapting than most adults. The older they got, the more powerful they became, and to that woman, knowledgeispower.” Lola added proudly.

To her, they were all her children. Well, the ones who had no parents left, and even then, she became a surrogate mom for some, a second mom for others. I’d never known a true mother’s touch; for as long as I could remember, Iwasmy mother’s protector. It should have been the other way around, and these kids were damn lucky to have someone who cared enough to be that for them.

I loved my mother as much as the next guy, but I deserved someone to protect me as a kid. Yet, I had always missed out. At least my brother Evander had me; some of these kids had no one. No one but Lola and, now, each other.

“So they aren’t elementals orUmbras?” Amaia asked, slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

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