Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(83)
He swipes a hand at me, his long, razor-sharp talons veering uncomfortably close. “It’s the prophecy, Daire. I figured you’d know that. It just needed a little push to get started. Now answer my question. Where are my ancestors—my employees? What the hell have you done, Seeker?” His voice booms loudly as the snakes thrash all about. Making the transformation from his demon self to his more normal self, he whistles for his creepy coyote, who obediently trots up beside him and heels at his feet with a bloodied, mangled rabbit hanging halfway out of his snout.
“That’s someone’s spirit animal!” I gasp, reaching toward Coyote, intent on wrenching it free.
But Cade steps between us, face enraged as he shouts, “Answer my question, Seeker!” His voice pitched so high it prompts Coyote to lift his snout and howl, allowing the dead bunny to topple to the ground.
I stare at the mess of a carcass, consoling myself that it was dead on arrival; there was nothing I could’ve done to save it. Returning my attention to Cade, I say, “Those weren’t workers; those were slaves. And in case you didn’t know, slavery is illegal, so I took matters into my own hands and freed them. Oh, and as for your ancestors—I killed them. Every last one.” I pause, tapping a finger against my chin, needing to emend that last bit. “Or perhaps killed isn’t quite the right word, considering they were already dead. Fact is, you’re on your own, Cade. Your undead playmates have gone bye-bye. Forever this time. Which means that at this very moment, all those souls you stole are returning to their rightful homes. And the people you enslaved are now back in the Middleworld, where they’ll not only be healed but also protected with the kind of magick you’ll never be able to penetrate. You’ll never be able to harm them or mess with their perception again. Which, in turn, means your business is dead. You’ve no slaves, no guards, no one willing to partake in your madness.”
“You’ll pay for this.” He storms toward me, hands clenched by his sides.
“Maybe,” I say. “But more likely not.” I take a careful step backward for his every advance.
Not because he scares me—he doesn’t.
Not because I’m intimidated—I’m not.
But because I want to lure him into my territory. Noting how the grass beneath his feet dies a quick death, only to revive once again when he’s past. But now that the magick of the Enchanted Spring is restored—now that the Richters are gone, their shroud of negative energy rapidly dissipating—I’m confident there’s nothing he can do to corrupt it. And with Wind calm and no protest from Raven, I’m free to proceed.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He glares. His icy-blue eyes turned dark and stormy. “No idea how you’ll pay for your foolish transgressions. You’re so mundane in your thinking. So stupid and conventional. Every time I thought there just might be hope for you yet, you do something ridiculous like saving your abuela’s soul or killing my ancestors. I’m beginning to think I misjudged you, Santos. Fooled myself into thinking you were a person of substance.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt you’ve misjudged me.” At the sound of the bubbling spring just a few feet away, I slip the athame into my hand.
His rolls his eyes, takes another step closer, and says, “Really? This again? Another performance of the Wiccan Warrior Dance?”
“The last one was such a success, I figured it was worth a repeat.”
He looks at me, confused by my words and I’m all too eager to enlighten him.
“This is the same blade I used to wreak some pretty awesome devastation on your ancestors. Sent their heads rolling with very little effort. It’s over, Cade. For real. And, if you don’t believe me, take a good look around and tell me what you see.”
He stares at me for a very long time, but ultimately curiosity gets the better of him and he allows his gaze to drift. Allows himself to see what I see—the Lowerworld slowly healing, reaching toward its former beauty and glory.
All except for the space just under his feet, which leaves me to worry.
I take another step back, this one a little hurried, uncertain. And like the beast that he is, he wastes no time exploiting my moment of weakness.
In an instant, he’s on me, closing the gap between us. Standing so near, his hot breath pelts hard against my cheek, as Coyote growls and nips at my hand.
The move causing Raven to croak loudly in protest, as Wind picks up, fiercely lashing at Cade. Though it’s only a second later when I’ve regained my footing along with my magick. I arrow my fingers at Coyote’s glowing red eyes and watch as he falls into whining submission.
“Impressive,” Cade says, sidling closer, seemingly unaffected by the gale at his back. “But if you so much as go near Coyote again, I’ll kill you.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I wiggle the athame by my side, take another step back. Gazing covertly at his feet as I continue my retreat, pausing only when the ground stops changing and remains solid and green beneath him.
He stares hard at me, searching for access, attempting to siphon my energy, yank on my soul, but it no longer works. He has no idea the power I hold. No idea who he’s dealing with now. I’m finally the Seeker I was born to be.
“Got you just where I want you.” His gaze darkens on mine. “You and me at the Enchanted Spring. Just like the dream. The only thing missing is Dace.”