Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(31)

She hands me the clothes she brought and tells me to change in her Jeep. When I emerge, she opens her arms as though to embrace me. And though I’m not feeling especially huggy toward her at the moment, I do so anyway.

It may be my last.

It may give me the strength I need to get through this.

When my eyes meet Chay’s and he nods his encouragement, I square my shoulders, face the river, and wade in. Walking straight into the freezing cold water that soaks me in an instant, chilling my body to the verge of hypothermia in just a handful of seconds. Telling myself that if this is what it takes to kill Cade Richter, I’ll do it.

At first, I fight the current, insisting on going at my own pace, my own way. Though it’s not long before the effort exhausts me, forcing me to loosen my limbs and literally go with the flow. Clutching the buckskin pouch with one hand, I do what I can to keep my head above water as I’m carried downstream.

Fingers seeking the hard edge of the raven stone lurking inside, along with the spine of the feather, and the curve of Django’s bear. Teeth chattering, lips quivering, I press the pouch between my palms, fold my fingers in supplication, and say, “If there’s any good left in you, then please guide me through this. Please help me endure. Do not let me die. Not here. Not like this. Not before I get a chance to do what I was born to do.”





seventeen


Dace

I grind my jaw hard. Cringing as Leftfoot pours more of that foul-smelling liquid onto my wound. Stuff burns like I can hardly believe.

“I think you’ve covered it.” I push the words between gritted teeth. “Any more and I’ll think you’re just bent on torturing me.”

“How’d you get this?” He squints, focusing on threading the needle he’ll use to sew the gash closed.

“Had an unfortunate encounter with a crazy coyote.”

He pauses, studying me for a long moment, then he jabs the needle into my flesh. “Relax. The more you resist, the worse it gets. That goes for everything in life, by the way, not just stitches.”

I shake my head. Mutter a stream of curses under my breath. While it’s hardly the first time Leftfoot’s sewn me closed, this wound goes way deeper than most.

“I’m afraid it’s even worse than you think.” He weaves the needle and thread in and out of my skin.

I glare at the wound. If that coyote was rabid, I’ll kill it too!

“No, not that.” Leftfoot yanks on the thread before tying a knot. “The Middleworld is also suffering the effects of Cade’s actions.”

Oh. That.

“Yesterday a flock of ravens dropped from the sky. By the time they hit the ground, they were dead. That’s the second time that’s happened.”

Ravens. Of course. How poetic.

Ravens equal Daire.

And dead Ravens equal Cade’s plan to steal Daire’s soul and leave her for dead—just like the prophetic dream that I had.

“And while it hasn’t snowed in Enchantment for many years, now it’s no longer snowing in the surrounding areas either. It’s cold enough to snow. It feels like snow. But for whatever reason, it’s not happening. Bad news for Angel Fire, Taos, and all the other ski resorts—but even worse news for us because we know what’s behind it.” He locks eyes with me. “And the one who’s in charge of saving us isn’t prepared for the job. Daire’s training was cut short when Paloma lost her soul. They’re just now picking up where they left off. But with Paloma’s magick gone, Daire will have to face this thing on her own. And I hate to say it, but she’s far from ready.” He reaches for a roll of gauze, winds it snugly around my arm.

“I’ll help her! I’ll…” I clamp my lips shut and stare out the window.

How am I supposed to help her when I can’t even get near her?

Can’t even think about her without strengthening Cade.

The only way to help her is by replacing all loving thoughts of her with vengeful thoughts of Cade. Nurture my hate for him until my soul becomes dark enough to crush his.

“You’re not ready either.” Leftfoot’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “You’ve been sheltered too long. Aside from a handful of parlor tricks we taught you as a kid, you have a long way to go.”

I grit my teeth. That’s hardly my fault.

He tugs on my sleeve, unrolling the fabric until it covers my wound. “Though, despite your lack of training, you must never forget you have one very distinct advantage over Cade.”

Our eyes meet. I have no idea what that could possibly be.

“While the dark delivers suffering and chaos, the light is the only thing that can illuminate it well enough to stop it in its tracks. You don’t have to become like your brother to fight your brother. Understood?”

I nod. Though the truth is, I’m willing to sacrifice anything—play dirty if necessary—if it means saving Daire. Now that she’s a part of my life, there’s nothing I won’t do to protect her.

I study the hand-carved wooden santos filling the niches, the assortment of feathers, and crystals, and herbs lining the shelves. The tools of the Light Worker trade. The talismans Leftfoot swears by. Maybe it’s good enough for healing the locals, but it’s hardly a match for my beast of a brother.

I turn to Leftfoot. Catching him studying me with eyes that are hooded and deep. His gaze probing, as though reading my thoughts, he heaves a resigned breath and says, “Guess it’s time you learn some new tricks.”