The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1)

by Padgett, Alexa

  Anger coursed from his body into mine. I pulled my knees up to my belly, folding myself into a ball. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I was sore, bloody, and dirty.

  And I was scared. The events of the past two days lined up in my head. Bits would jump forward in a flash of images, like I’d seen in various haunted house shows. I flinched at the memory of Jaguar’s teeth pressing into my skin.

  Zeke gathered me close as the tremors wracked through my body. I pressed my face into his shoulder and my fingers spasmed against his arms.

  “Will Jaguar come after me? I didn’t want him to touch me. He told me he couldn’t die. But he was dead.”

  “I know,” Zeke murmured, stroking his big hand down my back.

  “I couldn’t leave you. I was worried Jaguar would kill you.”

  “Echo, I know.”

  My teeth clicked together. I dropped the tablet onto the couch. Zeke reached out and steadied it, setting it on a narrow table next to us.

  “You’ll feel better after you’re clean and dry.”

  “The tablet. We need to talk about it. Will Coyote really give me my mom back if I give it to him? That’s what I hoped, but he’s known for breaking his promises and—”

  “I’ve got you, Echo. I won’t let Coyote or Jaguar hurt you. And we’ll get your mom back. Just breathe.”

  I rested my head against his shoulder. “I was really scared.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  Zeke rose, clutching me to him. I held on tight, eyes closed, trying to block out the violence I was responsible for tonight.

  “I thought Jaguar was going to kill you.”

  He paused, looking down at me for a long moment. His emotions swirled around us. Through my own haze, I caught a whiff of shock and gratitude.

  That didn’t make sense.

  He walked down the short hallway and into his room. He didn’t set me on the edge of the bed, but instead carried me into the small bathroom on the far side.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Yes, I do. You worry about me,” I said. A frown built. “That’s what friends do—they care and worry about each other.”

  He stared at me. He swallowed hard, and he shook his head. “Don’t get attached, Echo. I can’t give you what you need.”

  “Don’t push me away right now, Zeke. Please. I just—I need you.” My voice cracked. I tried not to shiver but failed.

  “I don’t want to be in the water.” I clamped my jaw tight.

  “You’re Water. It’ll be fine.”

  “It isn’t fine.” I struggled against him. “I nearly drowned.”

  “Shh. No you didn’t,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You panicked. Your mother transferred her fear of water to you. But you love water.”

  I stared up at him, willing him to keep talking.

  “Your favorite place in Santa Fe was the acequia behind your house. You saved me from slamming into the rocks earlier.”

  “Shakola said that was her.”

  Zeke’s mouth twisted downward. “She has her reasons to undermine your confidence.”

  “Why?”

  Zeke flushed. He didn’t meet my eyes. “She’s the cloud goddess, Echo. She can’t control water. You do. You saved me.”

  I kept my gaze locked on his. “Okay. I’ll go in.” Panic slammed into my chest, as painful as Jaguar’s grip earlier. “Just . . . don’t let go.”

  He held me tighter with one arm as he pulled the lever that controlled the shower. He spoke a series of commands and when the temperature was right, he carried me under the cascade. The warm water hit my back until the shivers ceased.

  “Your arm,” I said. “It’s still bleeding.”

  “Stop worrying about it.”

  “I don’t like kachina.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Some people say cannibals brought kachina up from Mexico. I read it in one of the books my mom had.”

  “Not true,” Zeke said. “They’re spirits from previous worlds. That’s why you can freeze them.”

  “Didn’t work with Jaguar.”

  “Did you try?”

  My teeth chattered. I hadn’t. Shame heated my skin.

  “Echo?”

  “So they’re part of Masau’s realm?” I asked.

  “Originally, yes. They were supposed to be messengers. They’ve mutated over time.” I relaxed, thankful he’d dropped the questioning. “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m going to set you down.” Zeke slid his hand out from behind my knees and my body slid against his until my feet touched the slick tiles. He stepped back, his sodden clothes molded over his skin. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the water. The worry gnawed at me.

  “Why couldn’t I freeze Jaguar? I didn’t want him touching me. I don’t ever want him to touch me.”

  “Magic takes focus. Control.”

  “So I could if I focused?”

  “I think so.” Silence and steam swirled around us. “I need to take off your clothes. To get you clean.”

  I opened my eyes and met his. Concern lit the dark depths and his wide mouth was set in a firm line. Coyote’s words came back to me. She yearns for him, but she will not fight so hard once he is dead. Did I yearn for Zeke? Did it even matter? He was with Layla.

  Though, I guess I still wasn’t sure if he had a girlfriend. I should ask. I gritted my teeth.

  “I trust you.” I sighed and shut my eyes. Coward. The word echoed through my head.

  He pulled off my hoodie, throwing it behind him. My camisole followed, and Zeke ran his fingers lightly over the finger-shaped bruises on my ribs. He didn’t try to undo my bra and for that, I was thankful. He slid my ripped and dirt-encrusted flannel pants down my legs. I lifted each leg as he knelt before me, my hands on his shoulders for balance, as he removed my shoes and socks.

  His fingertips started at the ragged gash at my ankle. He rose in a smooth movement to touch the wound on my neck. His hand slid around to the other side, where Jaguar had applied the most pressure on my windpipe.

  “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.” Zeke’s words were more powerful for their quietness.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whimpered. I opened my eyes and stared up into his. They were dark and hard, like obsidian.

  He forced a smile. “I’m going to wash your hair.”

  I blinked up at him. “But I did that earlier.”

  “Yesterday,” Zeke said. His mouth slid into a grimace. “It’s dirty again.”

  I shivered harder. I’d lost an entire day to Coyote and Jaguar.

  “Did you find out anything about my mom?”

  “I was looking for you, Echo.”

  While I appreciated his dedication—and I was really, really glad to be here, away from both Coyote and Jaguar—I wished Zeke had focused on my mother. I struggled to keep the tears from falling.

  He dug into the clay pot on the shelf, a soft white soap cupped in his palm. He rubbed his hands together, forming a thick lather that smelled of sage and lavender. My shoulders eased a little as my favorite scents wafted around me, wrapping me in a cocoon of steam.

  “Turn around.”

  I obeyed. My back was to him and the water ran over my neck and chest, stinging as it hit my opened flesh. I bit my cheek so I wouldn’t cry out.

  “Let the water wash out the cuts. I know it stings, but they’ll heal better if they’re clean.”

  He massaged my scalp, his fingers moving in a gentle rhythm.

  “Jaguar pulled out a lot of your hair,” Zeke said. Anger wafted off him, but it was muted by concern.

  “That’s the least of my problems. I had enough for two people, anyway,” I said.

  “I like it. It’s always so wild when you leave it down. Time to rinse.” He turned me around keeping his touch light, though rage torched his system when he glanced down at the damage to my front.

  I stepped back, nearly drowning under t
he hot spray. Sputtering, I stepped forward and blinked the water from my eyes.

  “I can finish,” I said. As the shock wore off, embarrassment at my near-naked state flooded my consciousness. Zeke was fully dressed—he still wore his boots.

  He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack. He ran it over his soaked hair.

  “I’ll go change.” He left without looking back again.

  I mashed my lips together, fighting against the tears.

  I lathered quickly to avoid undue attention to my ugliness. I pressed my head against the cool tile on the back wall and sighed. When the water slowed, Zeke was there, shutting off the stream with an easy shove of the lever so far above my head.

  “Feel better?”

  “Yes, thanks,” I lied.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I think you’re not telling me the truth?”

  No way was I answering that right now. I studied the spigot, still unclear how it worked. “How do you make it warm? The water?”

  “A series of commands. You want to learn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now?”

  “No.” My teeth chattered and I pressed my chest more firmly into the wall.

  “You need to get out, Echo.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “But I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Dirty. Bruised. Scared and tired.”

  The silence was so deep and long I was sure he’d left.

  “Look at me, Echo.”

  I didn’t want to. I really didn’t. But Zeke waited, and I couldn’t help myself.

  “You’re amazing. What you did tonight. How you stood up to both a god and a kachina. If anything, I’m even more impressed by you now than I was before.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a valid statement.”

  He trailed his finger down my cheekbone. “That’s how I feel.”

  My jaw clenched against the need to cry, I stepped out of the shower and managed to grip the towel he held out for me and wrap it around my body. He hugged me to him and I sighed, burrowing into his chest.

  “I’m going to get you some clean clothes. Dry off,” he said.

  I mourned the loss of his warm arms but I did as he suggested. Adrenaline leeched from my muscles, leaving my legs achy and unsteady. My eyelids were so heavy; like I was drunk. Or at least what I assumed being drunk felt like. My mom and Layla monitored my beverage intake with the same keen-eyed overprotectiveness as they monitored my dating, so I’d never had to opportunity to do either.

  I made it to the bedroom after accidentally slamming into the wall twice, my legs unstable. Just adding to the bruise collection, I thought with a giggle.

  Zeke stood in the middle of his room, a frown tugging at his brows. His feet were bare and he’d taken off his armor. He wore a dry, black T-shirt and a clean pair of jeans. These were older, soft. The kind you spent a Sunday afternoon at home in.

  I sucked on my lip. I might never have another of those lazy days with my mom and Layla.

  An intricate tattoo slithered up his bicep under his sleeve. It looked dangerous and sexy. Who knew I had a thing for ink?

  “What’s that?”

  “A protective tattoo. Masau did it when I was thirteen. After I killed my first kachina.”

  I stepped closer and caught a whiff of his clean, earthy scent. Not the lavender he’d used on me. I traced the edge of the design I could see.

  “What’s the design?”

  He didn’t answer right away. I tipped my head back and met his gaze. Beside the massive lump on his forehead, he looked good. Doable. At least I thought that was the right word. My mom found the book I’d read that in before I’d finished it, much to my disappointment.

  “Get in bed.”

  I blinked up at him. He seemed angry.

  “You’re talking out loud.”

  My cheeks flamed. “Oh.” Did I seriously just say Zeke was doable out loud?

  “Look, you’re completely run down. Your emotions have to be all over the place, and I’m not willing to take advantage of you. I made promises, Echo, to Masau and to your mother. I take those seriously. So please, just get in the bed so you can sleep.”

  “You said you’d get me clean clothes.”

  He walked to his chest of drawers. “What do you sleep in?”

  “Clothes,” I giggled.

  His sigh was laden with amusement and frustration. He opened the top drawer then the one below it.

  “Why do you have clothes for me, Zeke?” I asked.

  “So you have something to wear.” His voice was curt and I could tell that his ever-present guilt was eating at him again.

  Tears burned the back of my eyes. “You don’t want me here.”

  He brought me the items and held up my panties.

  “I want you here more that you’ll ever know, Echo.” Now that he was closer, his jumbled emotions clawed at my skin. Lust slammed into me, and I stumbled back, dropping the towel.

  “I—”

  “You’ve had a rough couple of days, sweet girl. It’s time for this one to end. Let me help you.”

  I wanted to ask him what that meant, but then his eyes met mine—dark, serious—and I couldn’t breathe. He must have realized I’d reached my limit because he didn’t say anything more, just helped me out of my sodden old panties with efficient movements before sliding my new pair over my feet. They were lavender silk. My favorite color. I sucked on my lower lip, ignoring the telltale sting building in my eyes.

  I had to place my hands on his shoulders to keep from falling over as he slid the material up my thighs and over my hips. His head was even with my abdomen. When he exhaled, the puff of his breath slid across my stomach. My skin tingled and I stiffened, shocked by the intimacy. He scooted back, putting more distance between us, but it didn’t matter.

  Nothing felt right.

  I didn’t want Zeke to touch me, but I did. I wanted more than simply his touch. I wanted pleasure from his hands to wipe out the nasty feel of Jaguar’s and Coyote’s bruising grip on my body.

  He stood and unclasped my bra with a quick flick. He pulled my cami over my head, waiting for me to lift my arms before he smoothed the material over my sides. His eyes never left mine; never dropped to my bare chest. I couldn’t keep the single tear from falling down my cheek. The respect he’d just shown me—how he’d known I’d needed it—I was so thankful for the acknowledgment that I was more than a sexual object.

  “Stay with me?” I whispered. Not what I’d planned to say, but I wasn’t sorry for the words.

  He searched my face, his big hand brushing the wet hair off my forehead. His lips curved upward but didn’t reach his eyes, which remained filled with worry. “Sure.”

  I climbed into his bed, groaning at all my aches.

  “Get some sleep, Echo. I’ll keep you safe.”

  I lay there, staring at him. He stared back. I shuddered, but the fear was too overwhelming for pride.

  “Will you hold me?” I asked, and my voice broke.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice hesitant.

  “Please. When I close my eyes, I see Jaguar. I feel his hands on my body. I don’t want him near me. Not even if it’s a dream.”

  My teeth chattered as I relived the feel of Jaguar’s teeth piercing my flesh.

  Zeke walked around behind me and slid under the sheets. He pulled me back against his chest, pushing my wet hair over his arm. I was rigid, still unsure what I wanted from him. He kept petting my head. The strokes were long, soothing. I calmed enough to take a deep shuddering breath.

  “How about a bedtime story?”

  “Yes. Great.” I stiffened my muscles, trying to stop the deep, painful shudders still wracking my limbs. “Thank you.”

  “You can relax.”

  “I can’t,” I choked. “I really can’t. Because if I do, I think about—”He pressed his fingers into the back of my neck, just deep enough to r
elive the tension pooled there. I groaned and melted back into him. He shifted up against the headboard. In that position, he towered over me. So many images of this type of dominance from earlier tonight blossomed in my mind, flashing in quick succession. But with Zeke, I was safe.

  When he looked into my eyes, I mean really looked, I calmed. His long, callused fingers caressed my jaw.

  “You wear your emotions outside,” he said.

  I frowned, letting my annoyance flash. He wasn’t the first person to comment on my lack of emotional control.

  “My mom calls me a loose cannon.”

  “The gods are always plotting, always trying to gain more power. There’s never anything real in their interactions.” He paused, meeting my eyes. Only Layla and my mother ever had held my gaze before. The moment lengthened. My chest tightened with gratitude. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your openness.”

  He continued to study my eyes, and the prolonged scrutiny made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I cleared my throat. “So what’s the bedtime story?”

  Zeke leaned forward, which brought me more firmly against his chest. He opened the bedside drawer next to him and pulled out a small container topped with shells and turquoise. The pattern was intricate. “This is courtesy of Masau.”

  My heart rate sped up as he opened it. A thick white mist gathered around his hand, and my muscles coiled, ready to run.

  “It’s okay. It’s not like the magic earlier,” he murmured.

  He drew something out, forming a series of glyphs in the air in front of us. I had no idea what they were. The Hisatsinom tradition was oral; there wasn’t much of a written record of their history, which was why I’d studied all the native tribes in the region.

  The mist thickened and then morphed into a mini version of a person. I leaned forward until my nose almost touched the mist. My heart tumbled painfully and I fell back against Zeke’s shoulder. A woman. Young, petite. Dark hair. She turned toward us. I gripped Zeke’s thigh.

  “Mom!”

  “When you mentioned the kachina in the shower, I realized you didn’t get quite the same education I did. Another of Masau’s teachings was that all life is energy,” Zeke said.

  I struggled to pay attention as the scene shifted. Someone stepped out of the shadows. I gasped. He was much taller than my mother; probably twice the height Coyote had appeared earlier.