Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(60)

But she just shakes her head. “As it turns out, it appears I’m now learning from you.”

I squint, unsure of her meaning.

“I went through the box.”

I look to Paloma, seeing her smiling faintly as she nods toward my mom.

“And then Paloma and I had a long talk.”

I clamp my lips shut, not sure what that means.

How much of a talk?

About Django?

About me?

About me choosing to accept the biological inheritance he fought to deny?

Does this mean she knows I’m a Seeker?

She pushes a lock of hair from her face and levels her gaze on mine. “I think I’m beginning to realize just how much I don’t know about the world. Not to mention how much I’ve denied what I couldn’t bear to face. And while I won’t claim to like it—while I don’t like it one single bit—while I can barely wrap my head around the kind of future you face—I’m also left with no choice but to accept it. If I could do something, anything, to change it, I would. If I could volunteer on your behalf and take your place, I’d do that too. But Paloma tells me I can’t. Says I’ve done all that I could the last sixteen years, and now I need to leave you in the care of a force far greater than me.” She swallows hard, plants a kiss on the side of my head. Her voice a mere whisper, she says, “You know, I think Django would be proud of you—to know that you’re trying to complete the very thing he tried hard to flee … I think he’d be amazed by your courage and strength. I know I am.”

“I met him,” I say, seeing the way her gaze widens at the words. “During my vision quest. He came to me. Helped me. I couldn’t have survived it without him. He was so handsome too. I can see why you fell for him as hard as you did.”

Jennika’s gaze travels to a distant place—smiling faintly at his memory.

“He’s everywhere, you know. Paloma taught me that. You can talk to him wherever and whenever you want. But, honestly, I think he’d prefer you move on.”

She nods, pulls me back to her. “Don’t let that boy hurt you again.” The words are a fierce whisper.

“Still calling him that boy?”

Her shoulders lift, as she flips open the blanket, inviting me in.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me the first time. It was a misguided attempt to protect me, that’s all.” I inch closer, allowing her to envelop me in a cozy layer of wool.

“And don’t forget that you’re not just a Santos—a Seeker—you’re a Lyons as well. I’m part of that equation too, you know.”

“How could I forget?” I snuggle against her. “Besides, I wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”

She shakes her head slightly, tightening her blanket around us, as we gaze into the flames. Watching as they crackle and spit, devouring the vertically stacked logs in Paloma’s kiva fireplace.

Our reverie broken when Paloma says, “Look—it’s raining!”

I look toward the window and, sure enough, the panes are streaming and wet.

“Not quite the snow I tried to manifest, but it’s a start, right?” I glance between my mother and grandmother.

Smiling with contentment when they say, “It is indeed.”

We remain like that for the better part of the morning. Three generations of females, staring into the rain—contemplating a future that yawns wide before us.

*

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” I glance around the tiny hotel room while Jennika packs up the few things she brought. “I mean, I can see why you wouldn’t want to stay—this place is pretty dismal. Still, I’m going to miss you. It’s nice having you around. Especially now.”

“Why especially now?” She starts to fold a T-shirt into thirds, then gives up and squashes it instead.

“Because I hated lying to you. It feels so much better to have it all out in the open. It’s good to know you’re on board.”

“Did I have a choice?”

We exchange a look.

“At least you know for sure I’m not crazy. The visions—the crows—the glowing people—it’s all real.”

She sighs in a way that tells me that just because she accepts it, doesn’t mean that she likes it—doesn’t mean she wants to delve into the details. Then she motions for me to sit on top of her suitcase so she can zip it shut.

“So, where do you go from here?” She grits her teeth and tugs hard on the zipper.

“The Rabbit Hole. You?” I push down with both hands in an effort to help her.

“First home and then Harlan’s.” She secures the shiny black lock with a satisfying click.

“Yeah?” I look at her, my smile growing bigger when she swats at me, pushes me to my feet.

Doing her best to nix my hopes, she says, “I’m committing to meeting him for a drink. And if that goes well, I’ll let him buy me dinner. We’ll see where it leads. Baby steps, right?” She heaves her bag off the bed and yanks hard on the handle, pulling the bag upright. “Need a ride?”

I shake my head and follow her to the door. “It’s not far. Besides, I could use the walk.”

“It’s still raining,” she warns.

“Yeah, and I’m still trying for snow.”