Fated (The Soul Seekers #1)(81)

Paloma





I gaze upon it, my eyes burning with unspent tears, wondering if Paloma will last long enough to teach me. Other than the rattle, I have no idea what to do with any of it. For someone who’s supposed to be brimming with untapped potential—I feel just the opposite. Powerless. Useless. With no idea how to access the gifts of my ancestral legacy. Unable to do anything more than collapse on my bed.

Jennika was right.

She was right all along.

If this is what loss feels like, then I’d prefer to have never known it.

I’d prefer to have never come to this place—never been foolish enough to allow myself to care as much as I do.

This horrible feeling goes way beyond pain—miles past debilitating.

It’s reduced me to a numb, frozen shell, huddled on my bed—forced to remind myself to breathe in and out.

I curl into a ball, trying to silence my mind and shut down my heart. Yanking the blanket high over my head, desperate to block out the room since everything in it reminds me of Paloma. Though it’s no use. Turns out, the scent of lilac laundry soap that clings to the sheets is just as big a culprit as the dream catcher that hangs over the windowsill. Enough to prompt the image of her that blooms large in my mind—kind, loving, trusting me to live up to my birthright. But I’ve no idea where to start.

According to Paloma, every time the El Coyote clan has managed to break through to the Lowerworld, chaos reigned in the Middleworld. And now that they’re planning to draw upon the power and chaos of Día de los Muertos to use all those regenerated ancestors to penetrate the Lowerworld—with more power than ever before—I have no idea how I can possibly stop it.

I have to do something, but I’ve no idea what. No idea how I’m supposed to face off against Cade and his army of undead ancestors.

There’s no way I can beat them. Heck, I haven’t even completed my full Seeker initiation. And yet I have to find a way to fight them. I can’t let them win.

I gaze at my father’s photo, remembering what Paloma said about him being everywhere—that I can call upon him anytime. But without Paloma’s guidance, without her beside me, I can’t seem to summon his presence.

Without her, this house feels too lonely, too empty. A cold, blank space that only magnifies my inability to deal with all this.

Too wound up to sleep, too wound up to do much of anything, I dress for the day and head out. Finding my way to Kachina’s stall and feeling a tiny bit better when she lifts her head high, paws hard at the dirt, and lets out a soft snort of greeting when she sees my approach. Her reception far more enthusiastic than my newly adopted cat’s, who was perfectly content spending time with Kachina until he caught sight of me and decided to scram.

I duck into the stall, busying myself with filling her feeding trough and replenishing her water, then I stand just beside her while she eats, telling her all the things I’m too worried to voice to myself.

My long list of worries multiplying until I’ve lost track of time. And the next thing I know the sky is draped with thick ribbons of orange and pink, the sun is hanging much higher than it was when I arrived, and Jennika has managed to find me. Her eyes darting between Kachina and me when she says, “Don’t get too attached to her.”

I pretend not to hear. I don’t want to start this again. But despite the gaunt cheeks and deep purple half-moons that swoop under her eyes—the result of too many nights of missed sleep—Jennika’s clearly lost none of her steam.

She hands me a mug of freshly brewed coffee, and I’m quick to receive it. Enjoying its rich pi?on scent, when she says, “I’m serious, Daire. I know you think you can talk me out of it. I know exactly what you’re up to. But as soon as Paloma’s better, and I mean the very second we get word, you and I are out of here. Which means you’ll have to say good-bye to your horse, this house, the boy, and everything else. This was always meant to be temporary—I thought you knew that.”

I sip my coffee, stare at the sky, and refuse to engage.

“I mean, I don’t get it. Just what is it you see in this place? What’s the attraction? Is there something I’m missing? Because from what I’ve seen, it’s a socially backward trash heap.”

I turn to face her, taking in her pale face, the bulky sweater too big for her frame. Hanging on her shoulders in such a haphazard way, it leaves her looking as tiny and vulnerable as I currently feel. “It may be a dump,” I say, holding tight to my mug as I turn away from her and survey the yard. Unable to see anything but the love, care, and devotion Paloma supplied to make it this way—a private oasis tucked away in the desert—though it’s all lost on Jennika. All she sees is a horse, an abundance of plants, a strange border of salt inside a strange coyote fence inside a thick, adobe wall. The magick is lost on her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to make her see why it might be important to me. “It’s not like I can deny it. But it’s also the first place I’ve ever felt like I just might belong. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I had a real and stable home.”

She starts to speak, probably wanting to defend herself and all the choices she’s made over the last sixteen years, but there’s time for that later. I need her to hear me while the words are still with me.

“And I know you’ve spent a lifetime trying to protect me from the staggering pain of grief that comes from losing the things and the people and the places you allowed yourself to care about—but guess what, Jennika—that’s no way to live. As much as it hurts to lose something you love, there’s a much greater joy in getting to experience it for as long as it lasts.” I suck in my breath, my eyes meeting hers. It’s the opposite of what I thought I believed, but now I realize it’s true. “And I know you meant well. I know you were only trying to spare me from the feelings that overwhelmed you. And who knows, maybe you did spare me a load of regrets and hurt feelings? What I do know is that I like being part of something. I like being a member of a family, a community, heck, even a school. I don’t care if it’s small time—I don’t care if it lacks excitement and glamour—this is the place where my abuela lives. A woman who’s given me a home—a purpose. And for the first time in my life, I—”