He wore a headdress of bald-eagle feathers that started snowy-white on top of his head and ended in a mud-brown below his shoulders. His eyes were dark, shadowed by his prominent brow. His nose was strong; the bridge thick, nostrils flaring. His mouth was firm yet soft as he looked down at my mother, who reached no higher than his shin.
“We are energy,” Zeke said. “Energy can’t be destroyed, but it can be transferred. From person to person or even from rock to tree.”
“How?” I asked, still watching. “That’s Sotuk, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
As we watched, Sotuk shrank so that he stood just inches above my mother. He cupped her face, kissed her. Much as I wanted to give my mother privacy, even in this memory, I couldn’t. This was my father—a god. Sotuk lingered over her mouth, cradled her in his arms.
When he stepped back, she clung to him, weeping. He held her, a coppery mantle surrounding them as he reached onto his back. From beneath the trailing headdress, he withdrew a child. He intoned words I couldn’t hear, and made the gesture for peace and another for protection. Sotuk kissed the baby on the forehead, both cheeks, and finally the lips. After another long moment where he cradled the child against his broad chest, he placed the baby into my mom’s arms. A child with the same copper eyes and mass of dark hair as my mother. Me.
He led her to the sipapu, his face a mask of resolve. When she fought him, trying to pull her arms free, he spoke to her. The more animated he became, the more stoic my mother was. She held me tight and shook her head, her eyes flashing bright in the darkness. He embraced her again, lingering on her lips for a long moment. He brushed his hand over her brown hair, cupping her cheek as he deepened the kiss further, taking it from loving to carnal. My pulse sped up and my nails dug into Zeke’s thigh.
My mother melted against Sotuk, her trust obvious in her complete surrender. He pushed her through the gateway, sealing it with a single gesture. I gaped, shocked by his callousness. My hand, like his, went to my chest, covering my heart.
I startled when Sotuk tipped his head back. The cords in his neck stood out in sharp relief, his mouth open too wide as the emotion overcame his body. His fists clenched, his legs shook and still, he screamed at the sky.
My breath caught and my nose stung at his obvious distress. “Why would he do that?”
“That’s why I’ve been telling you about energy. That’s the gods’ power. It can be imbibed, thus transferred to another.” Zeke said, his voice soft. He must have been mesmerized, too.
“The aura? The shimmery copper thing that he put around my mom and me?”
“Right. We think most went to you.”
“That’s why my eyes are copper. Mom’s, too. Because of Sotuk’s power.”
“More than likely. It also helps to explain why humans couldn’t meet your eyes.”
I tugged at my hair, pulling it away from my scalp. I winced at the tenderness there. “So, Sotuk gave me some kind of magical mantle. To shield me from the other gods. My mom, too, if the power settled inside us, in our eyes.”
“That’s a good guess. The best I’ve heard. But it doesn’t explain why Sotuk felt the need to force your mom from her home. Why he would deplete so much of his magic for your protection and why he then disappeared from our world.”
“Something about the Four,” I suggested.
Zeke dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’m the oldest we know of; four years older than you. And the catalyst for the prophecy, as Coyote pointed out. Layla is three-and-a-half years younger than me, then you arrived a few months later. By then, I lived with Masau. He said nothing about another child. And believe me, once I found out about you and Layla, I asked.”
I hugged my elbows tight to my chest as I shivered again. “How could you show that to me?”
Zeke twirled a long strand of my hair around and around his thumb, careful not to tug enough to make me wince.
“Masau said I should. If your mother was taken. He gave it to me a few months ago, to show your father’s sacrifice. So you’d understand.”
I pulled my hair free from his thumb, ignoring his look of disappointment. “But I don’t. Was I supposed to see that Sotuk loved me? That he wanted me? He shoved us through that sipapu.”
“Maybe he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness to ensure your safety. Some would say that’s the ultimate act of love.”
I sat up, pushing away from the sadness wafting from him into me. I needed to walk. To think.
“Where are you going?” Zeke asked. “You’re exhausted.”
“I need to think,” I said.
“Of course, but after you rest. Come here, Echo.” His voice was soft. I fought the urge but lost the battle when I met his chocolate eyes. I sighed and curled up beside him again.
“How is any of this even possible?” I asked.
He ran his fingers through my long hair. “I don’t know, really. I think it has something to do with the energy I was telling you about. In gods, it’s very concentrated. At least, that’s what we humans tend to think of as true magic.”
“It’s fascinating and horrifying all at once.” I yawned. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I blushed. “I want to be more than a pawn. More than something to break and toss aside.”
“You are.”
“Coyote doesn’t think so. And now he’s really angry. I wanted that tablet because he wanted it. I’d never choose him, Zeke. I know that I’m nothing more than a means to an end to him. He’d use me and discard me.”
Zeke pulled me up so that my head rested on his chest. With each breath, my head dipped and tilted slightly. The sting in my neck was slight compared to the joy of feeling Zeke’s heart beating a steady rhythm against my cheek.
Zeke slid his arm around me, warm and strong and sure. My tense muscles eased again and I snuggled closer, seeking his confidence and strength.
I drifted off slowly, glad for his presence.
I feared I’d dream of Coyote and Jaguar. Instead, I dreamed of my mother. She was alone, ragged, hurt. I couldn’t see much of her room—no, cell—but I could feel the closeness of the walls pressing against me.
“Coyote can’t gain control of the spirits, Echo.” Mom’s voice was urgent. Her eyes were paler than I’d ever seen them. A light brown. She looked so tired.
“I’m going to find you,” I said. “I need to save you.”
“I’m beyond your help.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Echo María. We don’t have time for sadness. Life, then death. There should be no communication between the two. Coyote will destroy the barriers. Bring back those the gods chose to destroy. There’s a reason Sotuk set the rules in place. Consider: Never again to feel the need to eat, to sleep. What would you want most?”
“I want to get you home. Safe.”
“It is my time,” Mom said. She held up her broken necklace. “My lifeline is gone.”
“No! You’re still alive. I’m going to find you.”
“Aiee, my sweet Echo. I’ll find you. I’ll hold on long enough for that. Remember, you’re one of the Four. Always four, always balance.”
* * *
“Echo!”
I struggled out of the dream, thrashing and gasping. Zeke cradled, and as I had earlier, I clung to him. Shudders ripped through my body.
“My mom,” I moaned.
“Shh.” He brushed my hair back from my damp cheek. “Just a dream.”
It wasn’t. I didn’t know how to tell him it had been more than that. Her last effort to tell me what she thought I needed to know. I’ll find you. How?
“They hate her. They hate me.” I pressed my nose into Zeke’s T-shirt-clad chest.
“You inherited powers from your mom as well as your dad. The Hisatsinom are apprehensive about power-sharing between their deities and those who aren’t, well, worthy.”
“Did she always have the ability to feel other’s emotions?”
�
�Maybe.”
“What is she? My mom.”
“She isn’t a full god. That’s all I know for sure. Masau knew her, trusted her.”
I nodded.
“So when Coyote said my mom broke the rules—”
“He meant your mom taking Sotuk’s powers,” Zeke said. “Not that she did so, really. You did through them.”
“Not following.”
“A child is rare for the gods. They don’t need human children of their own when they can create them out of their magic.”
“So why have kids at all?”
“Some are accidents,” Zeke said, his voice even but his emotions seething. “The byproduct of unanticipated unions.”
“What about you and Layla?”
Zeke’s chest tensed and his voice was thicker with emotion when he said, “Unwanted and unplanned, all the way. Gods don’t choose to have us very often. We’re harder to control because we have our own agendas and abilities—and human emotions. Not the ones they’d plan to transfer to us so that we’re beholden to them.”
Grief blanketed my chest. I ached for my mother but even more for my father. He’d cared for her, but, if that memory Zeke showed was true, he’d loved and wanted me, too.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Sotuk.”
“No one knows. Or they aren’t talking. He hasn’t been seen since he forced your mom to Santa Fe. If we’re right, he gave over a lot of his power to protect you. He may have depleted himself.”
“You mean killed himself?”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he said. He slid his hands over my hair again, playing with the ends. “You can sleep. I’m here.”
His words both soothed me and caused me to panic. Zeke had to fight my battles; being near me put him in constant danger.
“What about Layla?” I asked.
“She’s down the hall.”
I hesitated, my pulse pattering too loud. “Is she mad you’re in here?”
“Why would she be?”
I opened my mouth. Shut it. Clearing my throat, I blurted, “Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
All my muscles relaxed. We were quiet. “You should have one,” I whispered. “You’re good at cuddling.”
He pulled me closer. “You should sleep some more.”
“How long was I out?”
“About an hour. Sleep.”
I pressed my cheek more tightly against his chest, lulled by his heat and the rhythm of his heart under my ear.
“Promise?” I whispered. I didn’t want to admit how scared I was to close my eyes.
He pressed a soft kiss to the vulnerable skin between my brows. “Always,” he murmured against the skin there.
“Zeke?” I grabbed his hand, opening my eyes, searching his. “You make me feel safe.”
He looked away, his jaw hard with emotions I knew he wouldn’t want to admit to feeling. His gaze skimmed my forehead, then slid down to rove over my throat. He laid his thumb against my pulse.
I snuggled against his chest, soaking up his warmth and strength. I sighed, my body relaxing in slow increments. My eyelids slid shut. His warm breath bathed the back of my neck. I sighed, pleasure blossoming in my chest.
“I’m glad.”
I must have imagined his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth.
Chapter 11
I woke, alone and shivering.
“Zeke?”
I sat up and flinched as my battered skin flexed and pulled.
Layla stuck her head in the doorway. Her eyes were dark with concern. Dried tear tracks limned her cheeks. Once she caught my eyes, she walked in, settling on the edge of the bed.
“How you feeling, E?”
“Where’s Zeke?”
“In the other room.”
I closed my eyes as shame washed over me. I was too needy. Clearly, he couldn’t wait to leave. I must have imagined that caress. I curled onto my side. Images danced through my mind and my eyes sprang open.
“What time is it?”
“Early afternoon. Zeke thinks something’s going to happen by dusk.”
“Want to tell me why you left me yesterday?” I asked. “Coyote knocked me down, but you’d already let go of my hand, Layla.”
She walked into the bathroom and came back with the brush. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to work out the tangles from my long hair.
“I know you’re angry, E.”
I slapped the brush from her hand. It flew across the room and thudded against the door. “This isn’t girlie time. You left me there. I was tossed between Jaguar and Coyote like the spoils of war. They wanted to rape me.”
Layla turned back to me, her shoulders stiff and her chin quivering. “But you weren’t. There’s an enormous difference.”
“With no help from you,” I gritted.
“You’re safe. Zeke saved you,” Layla said, her eyes dark swirls of molten silver. “He always does.”
“One day he won’t get there in time, Layla. And, unlike you, I don’t have any training. I don’t know how to protect myself from gods.”
Layla laughed, but it was an ugly, hateful sound. “You think I knew how to fight when I needed to?” She slashed her hand through the air. “I learned afterward. When it no longer mattered. Not really.”
“Screw you.” I shoved her. Layla, caught off guard, slid from the edge of the bed and sprawled onto the floor. She bounded up faster than I could blink, her eyes narrowed, anger dripping from her every pore.
“I didn’t leave you there,” she snapped.
“I’m totally calling BS. You did. You let go of me.”
“No, I didn’t. Not on purpose, like you’re thinking.”
“You’re right. I’m thinking you wanted to leave me there.”
“That’s because you have no idea what’s going on!”
“Because you won’t tell me,” I yelled back. It felt great to yell. I pushed up on my knees and met her eyes. “You lied to me.” I let all my emotions into that one.
“I never did. Not once,” she ground out. One of the most irritating things about Layla was her ability to get quieter when she was angry. I wanted to rage and break things and she got coolly logical.
Silence, thick and full of accusation, settled around us.
“You think this is about trust?” Layla scoffed.
I sat back on my heels and shoved her shoulder. “What else would it be about, Layla? You betrayed me.”
“No,” she shook her head in an emphatic gesture. Conviction fueled her movements, brightened her eyes. “You want to hear about betrayal?”
I hated her in that moment.
“At least pretend it was a tough call for you to make,” I gritted.
Pulling the cami farther down, I lifted my chin so she could see my mutilated neck. “’Cause this was some serious reality. They hurt me.” I choked on the sob trying to claw its way up my throat. I didn’t have the right for tears—not with my mom missing.
Layla’s face paled further. She raised her eyes to my face, hers swimming with tears. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I thought . . .”
Zeke’s reddish head popped around the edge of the door, concern clear in his expression long before his emotion slammed into me. “Everything okay in here?”
“Is Layla a spy for Sussistanako?” I asked.
Zeke stepped farther into the room; his gaze sliding from Layla’s set face to mine. He lingered there, taking in my sleep-crazed hair and the frown I couldn’t shake.
“I can’t tell you what to believe. Think about what you know about her and ask what you need to in order to get to the truth.”
I swallowed and looked away, suddenly shy. Sure, Zeke had seen me naked, but I didn’t want my battered body to be the image of me he carried around.
“Thank you for checking on me. I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said.
“Echo?”
T
he silence stretched past unbearable until I looked up. This was one of his weapons, this ability to force me into compliance with nothing more than silence. I didn’t know how to fight my compulsion to answer him.
“You didn’t wake me. I got up about an hour ago.”
I blinked. Hard. Dropped my head in a quick nod.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” he said. “Take it easy on each other, ladies.”
He walked from the room, pulling the door shut with a firm click.
There was my answer—he was willing to leave me alone with Layla. If that didn’t say how much he trusted her, not much else would.
“Did he sleep in here?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I let my head fall back against the headboard. Well, that was something . . . Good. It was good. I hoped. But he and Layla had a thing.
“Do you like him?”
“Who?” Layla asked.
“Zeke.”
“Oh.” She hesitated. “He’s been a good friend.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” I muttered.
The longer we sat there, not looking at each other, the more I mourned what we’d once shared.
“I’m so sorry, Echo. About yesterday. I didn’t mean to let go of your hand.”
“You dropped it,” I said.
Layla wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I was scared.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“No. Of course not! It’s just . . . I—I know what you went through.” Layla gestured toward my neck. “You aren’t the only one familiar with Jaguar’s proclivities.”
As Layla’s shame and anger grew bigger, my breath leaked from my lungs. I’d been weak and scared pinned under Jaguar’s body. What had happened to her?
“Jaguar wasn’t there then. At Old Oraibi. Coyote was.”
Layla cleared her throat, a dry raspy sound that bounced through my head. “He scares me, too. I’ve heard the stories. He’s like Jaguar. He takes what he wants.”
“He’s a god.”
“And he’s freaking scary.”
“But that’s not what you planned to tell me, is it?” I tried to keep my voice gentle. Her emotions wrapped around us both; we nearly suffocated in their intensity.
The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1) Page 13
