Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(50)
“Sure you want to go there?” He grins in a way that pulls his lips wide, exposing a row of white teeth that gleam yellow under the glow of the streetlamps. “After all, you may not survive it. Your grandfather, Jolon, didn’t.”
I stare at him. Surprised to hear him admit it so freely.
“C’mon, son, surely you know the truth of your existence by now?”
“Don’t call me that.” I start to push past him, but he shadows me, gets right in my face.
“Don’t call you what—son?” He lifts a brow. “But you are my son. Whether you like it or not, you owe your very existence to me. I gave you life. I brought you into this world, and, believe me, I could’ve ended you just as easily. I could’ve snuffed you out years ago, but I didn’t. Ever wonder why?”
I stare into his eyes, not saying a word.
“I don’t like waste. Don’t believe in it. And I’m convinced that somewhere deep inside that pure and wretched soul of yours lurks a bitter black thorn that represents me, and I’m pretty sure you feel it too. You hate me. I can see the darkness growing inside you, and it pleases me immensely. Your hate gives me hope. If you nurture it, feed it, and allow it to grow, maybe you won’t turn out to be such a lost cause after all. Maybe someday you’ll be able to graduate from the lowly life of a Whitefeather to the exalted existence of a Richter. Of course, there’s no guarantee, but for the first time ever, I’m beginning to think it could happen.”
“You’re crazy. Insane.” I push past him, my shoulder butting hard against his.
“Have you seen your brother?” His gaze follows me, as I mutter under my breath and keep going. Aware of his voice calling from behind me, “If you do—tell him I’m looking for him. We need to talk before I head out of town.”
When I reach the door, I slam my hand hard against it but stop short of entering. I need a moment to slow my breath to a more even pace, rid myself of my anger so I don’t unload it on Daire. The last thing I want is to infect her with the bane of Leandro’s dark presence.
Much as I hate it, Leandro and I share a bloodline. And just like he said—a piece of him lurks deep within me. As much as I hate him, loathe him, I’m determined to use our connection to stop him. If I sacrifice myself in the process, so be it. Saving Daire is all the legacy I need.
twenty-eight
Daire
After consenting to Jennika’s curling iron, resulting in a series of soft loose waves that even I have to admit look pretty good, I allow her to style the rest of me too.
She runs a critical eye over the designer jeans, cute top, and the new boots she got me, before adding a few more bangles to each wrist and a few more rings to my fingers—some of them culled from her own hands. But when she offers to pierce my nose to match hers, I draw the line. Pushing her out of the house and into the bone-chilling night, where we slip into her rental car and spend the first few minutes shivering uncontrollably until the heater kicks in and warms us both up.
“The least it could do is snow.” She glances over her shoulder as she backs down the drive. “Everything looks better under a fresh layer of snow, and God knows this town needs all the help it can get.”
“I’m working on it,” I say, fingers picking at the heavy brown paper shopping bag I hold on my lap. So busy with my mental inventory of its contents, I didn’t realize I spoke the words out loud until Jennika calls me on it.
“You’re working on it?” She shoots me a quizzical look. “Since when do you control the weather?”
Since today—since I learned to fully blend with the elements. As a Seeker, it’s just one of my many duties.
But, instead, I just say, “What I meant was, I hope it snows too. Everyone wants a white Christmas, right?”
She shoots me a suspicious look, not quite buying my attempt at a cover-up. “Don’t let Paloma fill your mind with weirdness,” she warns. “Don’t let her turn you into a younger version of her.”
To that, I close my eyes and refuse to reply.
“Seriously,” she continues, far from finished with this particular thread. “You have no idea how much I worry about leaving you with her. In fact, just earlier tonight, when you were in the shower, I actually saw her spit on a client.”
I clamp my lips shut, determined not to speak until I’ve summoned my patience. “She didn’t spit on the client, she merely…” Ingested the client’s bad energy then spit it out to be absorbed by the universe. To Jennika’s ears, that’ll hardly sound better. “Whatever.” I shrug. “All I know is she has a long list of clients who all seem to love her. It’s not our place to judge her methods, is it?”
Jennika scowls. She hates when I act all righteous, especially when I truly am right.
“Anyway,” I add, desperate to move on. “You remember how to get there?”
“How could I forget?” She slows to make a turn, then picks up speed. Bouncing in her seat as the rental car plows down a series of rough dirt roads. “Last time I was there, it was decorated with skeletons and skull masks. Hard to forget a thing like that.”
“From what I hear, they’ve replaced the skeletons with twinkling fairy lights and a liberal dose of mistletoe—so be careful where you linger.”