My first stop at an Agro Mercado went fairly well, if you count being stared at the entire time going well. At the moment I did since it meant that my cover was holding and, while I would much rather blend into the shadows and wear an easily forgettable face, I would probably be the last person that anyone with any undercover experience would think is hiding something. Beautiful people who stand out and drive flashy cars are the Hollywood version of spies.

In the real world, it is just not a realistic tactic, and people who want to fly under the radar keep a low profile, dress for the occasion, and do absolutely nothing that would make them stand out in any way. Sure, what I’m doing might work for someone infiltrating some high society event, or scamming some billionaire, but that’s because the key is to blend in with the people around you, so it generally doesn’t work anywhere else. It’s only been working for me so far because it’s so counterintuitive and I’m a shapeshifter who can hide my real face from all the cameras and change my look if things get too hot.

Still, it was nice to get back in the car and take a break from the flirty and confident act for a bit. With the back seat mostly filled with fresh fruit and veggies, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief at being alone as I drove toward the Supermercado Palco. I was a bit leery about going back there, but unlike the Agro Mercados, there was only one close by, and it was where the wealthy and the tourists shopped. If I went anywhere else, I would be pushing standing out to dangerous levels. There was only so far, and certain places, that I could push this strategy before people went from slightly awed to suspicious, and I would rather not cross that line.

After a relaxing break in the car and a filling meal, I arrived at my next destination. I had stopped briefly to get something to eat from a burger place and got it to go so I could find a quiet place to eat it in the car. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to revert to my true form and take a break from shifting because there were people around and I didn’t want to chance anyone seeing something that they shouldn’t. Ah well, it would have been too cramped in the driver’s seat to really relax with my tail out anyway.

Just like the last time I was there, the Supermercado Palco was busy, and the only thing that really made ‘Jessica’ stand out was my long magenta hair. At least the blonde eyebrows would likely make people believe that it was a dye job, not that humans generally have natural magenta hair. My cart was filled quickly, I had found everything on the list that I was given, and after finishing in the frozen foods section and buying a couple of tubs of ice cream as a treat for later, I was ready to check out.

It was as I was going through the checkout that I felt something odd. It was distant and faint, it almost felt like the sense of magic that I felt from other Naethari, but it was far too weak. A month ago, I had been too inexperienced to sense the spark of magic in people other than Naethari; I certainly hadn’t sensed it in Camille Hart. As I steadily progressed with both of my aetral though, my sense of magic in the world around me had gotten better, just as Kieshala had told us it would.

Was this the spark of magic I was sensing? Did the person even realize that they had it? Kara and I hadn’t, and Jenny was probably too young anyway. I was curious, but not nearly curious enough to try to find it. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. I might be a fish rather than a cat, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk, not with my family depending on me.

I was heading out the doors when a couple outside of the doors accosted me. The man was a tall Caucasian with light brown hair and darkly tanned skin, while the woman was a fairly tall and willowy Latina with shoulder-length black hair. It was the woman who interested me most though. She was the source of that faint spark of magic and the moment that our eyes locked, hers went wide and she unconsciously took half a step back. Was she afraid of me?

She was apparently too surprised to speak at the moment, so it was the man who asked, after a strange look in her direction, “Hi, you’re American, right?”

It was sweltering outside, and I didn’t really have the patience for this. Despite being dressed normally for tourists they both smelled like military to me, and the faint scent of gun oil, their general fitness, and their stiff posture all but confirmed it. For a moment, I was tempted to really confuse them by speaking in Chinese, but I could use this encounter to maybe gather some information, and running away would only make them suspicious.

“Yeah, San Francisco, born and raised!” I replied chipperly. I didn’t introduce myself though, since I wanted them to lead the conversation and see where it went.

“I’m Andy, and this is my fiancée, Juanita,” he replied with another sidelong look at his companion. Uh-huh, nice try, ‘Andy’, tell me another one. I didn’t see rings on either of them, so I was pretty sure that he was ad-libbing, and that the woman was usually the talker of the two. “We’re in Havana looking for some friends who went missing on a family vacation; could you tell me if you’ve seen any of these people recently?”

The photos that he practically shoved in my face were grainy surveillance photos from traffic cams, ATMs, and that sort of thing. Flipping through them, I saw Maddie, her parents, Uncle Jack, and Aunt Carmen. There was also one of the selfies that ‘Danica’ had taken on the yacht and posted to her social media accounts.

I frowned, trying to look pensive as I looked over the photos, and then shook my head. “Sorry, but none of them look familiar. Have you checked with the local police?”

“The local police and government haven’t exactly been helpful,” Andy said with a frown. “So, we’ve been asking the locals and other tourists.”

“Well, I sure hope that you find them,” I offered with a weak smile.

“Thanks for your time,” he replied with another frustrated look at his companion.

“Anything for fellow Americans,” I cheerfully responded before walking briskly back to my car and putting the groceries in the trunk. A liberal use of my sense of smell didn’t detect the pair’s scents or any similar scents near my car and they hadn’t followed me through the parking lot, so I figured that I was still safe. If anyone had tampered with the vehicle while I was inside the store, their scents would have been all over it and the general area.

Still, that was far too close for comfort. As I made my way back to the villa, I took a roundabout route through the city and then the familiar route where my very distinctive car wouldn’t be caught on camera. I kept one eye on the rearview mirror the entire way to be sure I wasn’t being tailed.

Corporal Luiza Morales fell to her knees, like a puppet with its strings cut, as soon as the pink-haired woman was out of her sight. Private Adams frowned at her as she knelt there for a moment, thinking about that pink-haired girl, and what she had seen in her. “Corporal?” He asked once the woman was gone, clearly not happy about having to ad-lib while Luiza had been too stunned to speak. He obviously wanted to say more, but she outranked him, and it would be inappropriate.

“Sorry, Private,” she replied quietly. “I think this heat is just starting to get to me, I’m not used to all of this hair. Wait here while I go get us some bottles of water. Oh, and try to pay attention to the story I’ve been telling people all day so we’re consistent please, Private. We should be taking turns at this, and you screwed up by telling that woman I was your fiancée. Neither of us is wearing a ring.”

Even long afterward, while going about her current assignment of canvassing people, the young woman with the magenta hair remained on her mind. What was up with that enormous magical presence? It had been like staring into the sun. Was that person even human? According to her abuela, such a thing should not be possible.

Luiza’s abuela was a bruja; she had been taught the secrets of magic by her own abuela before leaving Mexico for a better life in the United States. Being able to use magic was a rare gift but Abuela had told Luiza that, out of all her grandchildren, Luiza alone possessed that gift, and she had trained her to use it and to sense it in others before she left this world when Luiza was fifteen. With that training had come a warning though.

Magic was fading from the world; Abuela blamed modern technology and said that the life of the world was fading. Luiza would never be able to do some of the things that her abuela had been able to do in her prime. People who were actually strong enough to do even basic magic were becoming rarer and rarer. Many who possessed the gift were too weak to realize that they even had it, much less do anything with it.

Then there was the pink-haired girl. She radiated magic. The light of magic in those who did not have enough of a gift to realize they had it were like drops of water, barely even noticeable to someone who did, and even then, Luiza could do little more than pity them. Luiza herself was more like a shot glass full, her abuela had been strong and her light was like a full glass of water, but the pink-haired girl was like the ocean. The mere thought that anyone could be that touched by magic was terrifying and left her feeling very insignificant.

The pink-haired girl could feel the magic in Luiza too; she could see it in those blue eyes. She had been interested, curious even. Even if Luiza had been able to speak at that moment, she knew that she couldn’t have. If she tried to talk about magic in public with some total stranger, Private Adams would think her crazy and she had no doubt that it would become another in a long list of rumors about her circulating among her peers.

Luiza had heard the rumors before; she was a lesbian, she was really a dude, she was sleeping her way through the ranks, and several others. They were sadly not uncommon rumors for a woman among the rank and file of the military. As much as they like to say that that type of bullshit doesn’t happen in the military anymore, it does. It, and worse, happened to servicewomen just like Luiza all too often, and then was quietly swept under the rug. And fighting back, even through the proper channels, was more likely to see the victim’s name dragged through the mud by her superiors than see any sort of justice done. Just like…

She shook her head as if to clear it of those burgeoning thoughts and the anxiety and shame that would come with them. “Another three months,” she told herself grimly, “and then I’ll be done with active duty and can keep my head down in the reserves until my service is up.” It was ironic how she joined the army out of high school to get away from a shitty life in the LA ghetto and get some direction in her life, and now she couldn’t wait to leave, for much the same reason.

The shake of her head helped in a way. It allowed her to focus on physical discomfort rather than mental. The damn wig she was wearing was itchy and hot, and playing tourist and gathering information in Cuba during a heat wave was not what she signed up for. At least she wasn’t acting as General Carmichael’s glorified personal assistant right now as she had been since their arrival. Especially with the foul mood that he had been in since returning from the party on Aaron Frost’s yacht.

She had seen three fucking years of combat and now she was reduced to his personal errand-girl. Worse yet, she still had no idea why they were even in Cuba because Carmichael didn’t think women belonged in combat and her only use was fetching him coffee or files. “Three more months,” she repeated in her mind. Counting down the time had become her mantra, and trying to solve the puzzle of why they were here had been her only distraction.

Supposedly, they were trying to bring in some mercenaries who had been hiding in Cuba for the past month for questioning, but she had no clue as to why. The photos that she had been showing people all day long were the only real information that she had. She had of course heard the rumor that someone or something had wiped out one of their strike teams when they went to collect a target, so maybe these mercs shouldn’t be underestimated. If they had managed to stay hidden so well up until now, why would they repeat a mistake by showing themselves now that they knew they had to deal with strike teams?

Except, from the sound of the General’s ranting when he had given her this assignment last night, one of those mercs had shown up at the trap/party that he had planned on Frost’s yacht. Not only that, but she had vanished without a trace and made a fool of General Carmichael and the men he had brought with him. Danica Holmes’s picture was newly added to the collection, and the mere mention of her name made the General red in the face, the thought of which very nearly brought a smile to Luiza’s face. She stifled it before it could fully form since she was still under his command and had a job to do, and that would require her looking concerned for their missing ‘friends’.

As the afternoon passed onward into evening though, Luiza’s thoughts kept drifting back to the pink-haired girl. She needed to know who, and what, she was. If this young woman was as powerful as she seemed, then she could probably answer questions that had been unanswerable since Luiza’s abuela died. Perhaps she could look for her once she was off duty for the night. Searching for a source of magic that large couldn’t be too hard, especially if she was staying in the tourist area of Havana. If not, she still had her own small magic to work with.