Chapter 3: Coming Home - Valeria

“Señorita Cabrera, we’re home,” announces my driver, pulling me from my daydream. As I open my eyes I feel the exhaustion from my long journey dissipate as the gates of Casa Montero come into view. I smile and glance out the tinted windows of my town car at the beachfront villa I have called home my whole life.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve been home, and I’ve missed it terribly. I watch as the gates open, and the car pulls into the entrance, stopping in front of the doors of the villa. I’m quick to exit the car and breathe in the salty sea breeze that lets me know I’m home. As my driver gets out and grabs my bags from the trunk, I let myself into the villa, and instantly see my mother hurrying down the stairs with her arms spread open to greet me.

“¿Cómo estás, mija?!” she cries as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and races over pulling me into her arms. I wrap my arms tight around her and inhale her familiar perfume, relishing how good it feels to be home.

“Hola, mamá, I’m good. How are you?” I ask, giving her an extra squeeze. She pulls back and cups my face in her hands and examines me carefully with a look of worry only a mother can have.

“You look tired, mija. When did you last sleep?”

“I slept on the plane, I promise,” I assure her, kissing her cheeks.

You would never guess my mother was fifty just by looking at her. She’s still someone with the ability to turn heads when she walks into the room. Her dark, honey-brown long wavey hair, her warm walnut-coloured eyes, her petite yet defined nose that is accented by her prominent cheekbones and jawline. Her skin has a gorgeous bronze glow, and her body is still as toned as a woman in her twenties, though that is due to our vigorous training. People often mistake us for sisters, though she is 5’5” and I’m 5’7. Also, my hair is straighter, and my skin is more bronzed, and unlike my parents, I have honey-brown eyes. Mamá says I take after my abuelita on her side, which I always took as a big compliment because I adore my abuelita, and even at the age of seventy-nine she is still a knockout. I guess good genes just run in my family.

“How did everything go?” She asks me as Carlos – my driver – brings my bags in.

“Wish I could have enjoyed the sites of Amsterdam a little more, but it was good. My mark almost gave me the slip, but I still managed to find them and take care of them.”

“Forget something?” Asks a familiar deep and commanding voice. I turn towards the entrance to the terrace where my father stands in his usual intimidating and authoritative pose.

“Hola, papá,” I greet, already feeling the welcoming atmosphere vanish.

“I read Tácito’s report of what happened in Amsterdam. Anything you wish to tell me?” He casually asks as he walks in with his arms behind his back, his posture so straight you’d think a rod was jammed up his ass. Hey, I love my father to death, doesn’t mean he’s not a prick sometimes.

“You sent me to kill a couple of wolves, so I killed a couple of wolves,” I shrug, folding my arms over my chest. “You read Tácito’s report but not mine?”

“Oh, I read both. But they didn’t match. For example, Valeria, yours leaves out the part where you let the little wolf go,” he says as he looks right at me as if daring me to deny it.

“That’s because I did. So what?” I already don’t like where this is going.

“You had one job to do, Valeria. I am extremely disappointed that my own daughter would let a filthy mutt go,” he says with unveiled disappointment.

My jaw ticks in anger. “He was just a child. You honestly expected me to kill a child?” I question in disgust.

“Yes! Child or not, it was a monster, and your duty is to erase all monsters from this earth. Purge it of their mutant ways. Instead, you’re letting them go free so they can grow up to kill innocent people,” he says, shaking his head.

“I have never wavered in my duties, nor will I, but if you expect me to go around killing innocent children then you’re out of your fucking mind,” I snap.

“Mija! Watch how you speak to your father,” my mother admonishes me.

“You have to learn to stop seeing them as children, they are monsters and you letting them go free only causes problems for us in the future. Which is why Tácito took care of it since you were unable to do so,” my father informs me.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Images of that sweet little boy and the tears that streamed down his face when he saw what I had done to his parents. His curly blonde hair stained with their blood as I encouraged him to run back to his pack. I never wanted to hurt him, I already feel horrible for leaving him an orphan, but I wasn’t about to murder a child. But it seems my sparing him only resulted in his death anyway. I guess even when I try to do the right thing I still fuck up.

“Thiago, was that really necessary?” My mother sadly asks my father. “To kill a child…”

“He was a monster, Jazmín,” he softly says, walking over and gently grasping her shoulders, “A monster who would grow in size and strength and one day come seeking revenge. We could not let that happen. I will not risk harm coming to my family,” he vows, placing his hand against her cheek.

My mother leans into his touch and slowly nods, “You’re right. It was for the best,” she says giving him a warm smile.

I feel my stomach begin to do somersaults. How can they look at each other so lovingly while discussing the murder of a little boy? I feel like I’m the crazy one around here because I’m the only one who thinks that’s fucked up.

“Aww, is Valeria crying over freaks again?” Says the snide voice of my brother Mateo as he walks into the villa.

“Is Mateo sexually assaulting prisoners again?” I ask, my voice dripping with disdain. I am dedicated to our family’s legacy of erasing supernaturals from the earth before they destroy more lives, but I don’t condone half the shit the organisation gets away with, and I sure as fuck don’t agree with the shit my brother does to the prisoners. Last time I caught him, I beat the shit out of him, and he knows I’ll do it again. As his older sister, it’s meant to be my job to protect him, but I find it’s more my job to keep the pendejo in line.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” He spits angrily, storming over to me.

He reaches out to grab me, but I quickly grab his hand twisting it behind his back as I slam his head into the foyer table and pin him in place. “Try to lay a hand on me again, I fucking dare you,” I say menacingly as I tighten my grip.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” He shouts, trying to manoeuvre out of my grasp unsuccessfully.

“Why must the two of you always fight?!” My mother shouts in frustration.

“They’re just energetic, don’t go worrying yourself over their antics,” my father calms my mother before looking over at me, “Valeria, let go of your brother.”

I give Mateo’s arm another twist and let him go stepping back.

“Perra loca,” my brother mutters, standing straight and rotating his shoulder while staring daggers at me.

“Pull that shit again and I’ll show you how much of a crazy bitch I really am,” I threaten with a broad smile. Mateo promptly storms out with his tail between his legs, as per fucking usual, and I walk over and grab my bags. “I’m going to go unpack.” I walk over and kiss my mother on the cheek and make my way upstairs and away from this dysfunctional shit show of a family.

Look, I love my family. I don’t agree with everything they do, but I still love them. I want to stab my brother in the balls most of the time because some wires definitely got crossed in that guy’s head to make him the sick fuck he is, but I’d still avenge him if something happened to him because, at the end of the day, he is still my blood. I’ll just also kill him myself if I see him doing anything sick like last time. How our father still lets him be alone with prisoners is fucking beyond me.

As I step into my bedroom, I smile seeing the room open to my bedroom terrace with the stunning view of the ocean. I place my bags down and walk out onto the terrace, taking off my boots and laying back in the large sun lounge. I let all my worries melt away as I listen to the gentle sound of the waves washing up on the shore and let the soft breeze and the sound of the palm trees rustling together soothe me. Who needs a sound machine when you have the real thing?