The Soul Seekers: Horizon (12 page)

Lita flinches, drops her gaze to her feet, as Axel pushes away from the wall and swipes a hand through his halo of curls. Looking from Lita, to Xotichl, to Auden, then finally to me, he says,
“I’m here for you, Daire. But, I guess there are limits. If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to save all of you over Dace and I think we’re all hoping we could get that
same assurance from you.”

They nod in unison, and I take a moment before I reply. “I assure you, that if it comes down to making that choice, your safety will be my first priority. But it’s really a moot
point, since it will never come to that.”

“Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.” Lita scowls.

“Well, it’s the best I can do. Which means we’ll just have to call a truce on this one and agree to disagree because I’m not going to lie to you. So, that said, I was
hoping we could put this behind us and move on. We have a battle ahead and we need to prepare.” I turn my attention to Axel, motioning for him to follow when I say, “I need your help in
the bedroom.”

“Uh—should I be worried?” Lita feigns a look of mock concern that soon shifts to curiosity when we return with a beautifully carved, hand-painted wooden trunk balanced between
us. “What is that?” She leans in to get a better look.

“Think of it as my tool chest.” I crack a smile. “Paloma gave it to me, along with all the tools I keep locked inside.”

“Tools of the Light Worker trade?” Auden says. He’s the least initiated among us, but that’s about to change.

“Something like that.” I spin the wheel of the combination lock I placed there shortly after Paloma passed on. How silly it seems now in light of all that’s just happened. Like
this simple, metal lock could ever keep a Richter at bay.

Then again, a Richter would never have the slightest interest in the tools I’ve stashed here.

And that just may turn out to be one of my biggest strengths.

In every encounter with Cade, every time he seemed to get the upper hand, he always made sure to mock the wisdom of my ancestors—my collection of magickal talismans. The pouch I wear at my
neck—the small double-edged knife imbued with Valentina’s essence—it’s all a big joke to him.

Cade relies solely on his devious mind, his abyss of a soul, and the snake-tongued monster residing within. Though last I saw, the beast had abandoned him. Unlike my tools which have never once
failed me.

Where failure’s concerned, I’ve only failed myself.

But no more.

I kneel before the trunk and raise the lid. Aware of my friends gathering closer, as I remove the soft, hand-woven blanket I placed on top, then set the tools upon it, one by one.

“Oh,” Lita murmurs, her voice, like her face, betraying her disappointment. “I thought there’d be cool stuff. I thought you’d hidden an arsenal in there.”

“Make no mistake, in the right hands, this is an arsenal.” I shove the bag Dace left well out of the way. I don’t have to look to know what’s inside. It’s his
blowgun and darts, but there’s no way I’ll use it on them. And, with my friends all too willing to turn on him, they don’t need to know it exists. Then after arranging the pieces
so the rawhide rattle on the long wooden stick lies beside the large drum bearing the face of a purple-eyed raven, I place the three feathers that came from a swan, a raven, and an eagle all in a
row, and finish by adding the pendulum with the small chunk of amethyst attached to its end.

“Grab some pizza,” I say. “Refill your drinks, and get comfortable. I’m going to teach you how to use everything here. And it’s probably going to take the better
part of the night.”

“I feel so guilty.” I bite my lip and frown at the overcrowded rack of dresses before me.

“Why? What’d you do now?”

I slew my gaze toward Xotichl. “What do you mean, ‘
what did I do now’
?”

“Well, I figure if you’re feeling guilty, there must be a reason.”

“Sheesh.” I roll my eyes, shake my head, but it’s really more for dramatic effect, my heart isn’t in it. “Will I ever live down my diva past?”

“Not likely.” Xotichl inches her purple glasses up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her finger.

“Anyway, I didn’t exactly
do
anything. The reason I feel guilty is because everything around us is either falling apart, on the verge of falling apart, or, according to the
Codex, destined to fall apart. And yet, despite the forecast of gloom and doom with a ninety-nine percent chance of complete world annihilation, deep down inside I’m still bursting with the
absolute euphoria of unbounded happiness, and I know it’s not right.”

“That’s what love does.” Xotichl bobs her head as though listening to a song only she can hear. Choosing a dress from the rack, she scrutinizes it for a handful of seconds,
only to exchange it for another, and then reject that as well. “Love is irrational. Nonsensical. Makes you feel things that seem wildly inappropriate when you consider the surrounding
circumstances. And yet, you shouldn’t ever question it, shouldn’t ever doubt it. You should just accept it for the gift that it is.” She pushes away from the rack and scans the
rest of the shop.

“I guess . . .” I sigh, unwilling to concede quite so easily. “Still, it just seems so wrong to feel so good when everything around me is going to hell. It’s like,
champagne corks popping in here.” I thump my hand against my chest. “And the raging river of Hades out there.” I jab my thumb toward the general direction of the green exit sign.
“Not to mention how I’m pretty sure we’re starting to grate on Daire’s nerves.”

“Starting?” Xotichl throws her head back and laughs like it’s the funniest joke I’ve told all year. “I’m pretty sure her nerves were grated from the first
night you and Axel laid eyes on each other.”

“I knew it!” Feeling suddenly vindicated to confirm what I suspected all along, I lean toward her, grab her by the arm, and say, “You felt it too?” We’ve never had
this discussion, and I’m eager to dissect it down to the smallest bit of minutiae.

“Felt it? I
saw
it.” She chooses another dress and holds it against her. But it’s way too much fabric and color for her petite frame, and she rejects it well before I
can open my mouth to dissuade her.

“But why? Why do you think she’s so against us?” I may be pressing it, but I’m determined to continue this topic until it’s exhausted. “After all Axel’s
done for her—whisking her off to the Upperworld and saving her life—after all I’ve been through—being traumatized by having my perception altered by the Richters for the
better part of my life—why can’t she just be happy for us? Why can’t she support us like we support her and Dace?”

“Because it’s unnatural.”

The voice comes from behind and we turn to find Cade Richter looking as smug, slick, and self-assured as ever. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a white V-neck tee that clings to his shoulders,
chest, and six-pack abs, displaying them to maximum impact, and brown leather flip-flops gracing his feet. Appearing as though he didn’t run into a burning building with big, gaping knife
wounds in his arm and his side just six months earlier.

No matter how many times I rehearsed this moment in my head, always envisioning me playing it cool while Cade cowered under the glare of my complete and total authority, in real life, it plays
just the opposite. With me gasping and jerking so spasmodically, I nearly knock Xotichl over.

“Not to mention it’s bound to fail.” Cade’s icy-blue eyes bore deep into mine, and try as I might, I can’t break the look. “Guy like Axel has no place here.
He doesn’t belong in our world. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Lita, but it seems Santos doesn’t have the guts to tell you what we both know is true. Your relationship was dead
long before it began.”

I stand there stupidly, unable to move, unable to speak. And though I’m waiting for Xotichl to step in and speak for me, turns out, she’s as frozen as I am.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I finally manage. Unfortunately, it’s the best I can manage. Still, I reach for Xotichl’s arm and take a step back, pulling her along
with me.

“Nope.” Cade lifts his shoulders, swipes a hand through his hair. Holding it for a moment before he releases it and his bangs swoop into his eyes. One of his many signature moves.
“Not a threat. Not even a warning. Just a fact, plain and true.”

I roll my eyes. Huff under my breath. But the effort is forced, and he knows it as well as I do. “And I suppose next you’ll be offering to console me when this so-called dead end
occurs?” I fold my arms across my chest in an attempt to fend off the strange pull of his energy. Disgusted to find that after all he’s put me through, after everything I know about
him, I still find myself drawn to him.

“Wrong again.” He raises a grin, reaches into his pocket, and lights a cigarette, despite the strictly enforced no-smoking policy. “You may be surprised to hear this, but
I’ve moved on. A lot’s changed in the last six months. And as irresistible as you think you are, turns out, I’m no longer into you.”

I narrow my gaze, try to read between the words. Telling myself I should be relieved, happy to be released from the burden of his interest. And while part of me is indeed happy, there’s
another part that feels just the opposite. Sort of deflated, bereft.

“About your little glowing man, you need to know—”

“Axel. His name is Axel. And he doesn’t glow.” I scowl. But more at myself than him. I have no idea why I continue to engage him. We should’ve walked away the second we
saw him. And yet, here I am, blabbering like a fool, while Xotichl stands gaping beside me.

“He lost his glow?” Cade quirks a brow, takes a deep drag on his cigarette. Then turns his head to the side to give us a better view of his perfect profile as he blows a series of
smoke rings. “That’s too bad. Only thing he had going for him so far as I could see.”

“Whatever. We’re done here.” I start to push away, but he reaches toward me, binds my arm with his fist.

“Just remember this, Lita—when you and Axel go up in flames—and make no mistake, you will—don’t forget you heard it here first. It’s a warning you need to
take seriously. Consider it my last gift to you.”

“And why would you give me a gift if you’re so
over
me, like you claim?”

“What can I say? I’m a sentimental guy.” He lifts his shoulders, discards his cigarette on the floor where it burns a hole in the carpet. “We share a good bit of history.
Had some fun times. I figure it’s the least I can do.”

“What’re you really doing here? What do you want?” Xotichl speaks for the first time since he arrived.

“Same thing you want.” The words are mumbled as he divides his attention between us and his chiming cell phone. “Something to wear to the Rabbit Hole bash. I’m assuming
you received the invite?” He returns to his phone with a sardonic grin.

“Oh yeah, we got it.” Xotichl scowls. “The dead raven was a really nice touch.” She places her hand on her hips and glares, but the effect is wasted on him. “So, I
get that it’s a ball, but are you really planning on wearing a dress?”

He lifts his chin, shoots her a blank look.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re shopping in the women’s department. Men’s is on the ground floor. Or perhaps you’re not even shopping? Perhaps
you’re just doing a really bad job of stalking?”

He makes a face at his phone, then returns his focus to us. “Don’t flatter yourself, flower. I have no interest in your pedestrian activities. If you must know, I’m shopping
for my date. But, as it turns out, this place isn’t nearly classy enough. A special girl deserves a special dress, no?”

“How special could she be, if she’s dating you?” Xotichl says, momentarily forgetting that I dated Cade off and on since elementary school. But I’m quick to forgive her
the insult.

Cade grins. “Far more special than you could imagine.”

“Who is she?” I ask, finally finding my voice. “Anyone we know?” I fight to keep my face still, my expression neutral, though I’m unable to do anything about the
way my heart palpitates in my chest.

“I reckon you do know her. After all, Enchantment’s a small town.” He gives me a thorough once-over, allowing a few beats to pass before he says, “A small town with a
long memory as it turns out—or maybe that’s just me?”

His eyebrow shoots up, and I have no idea how to reply. Is he referring to the black onyx they’re using to fortify the new building? Is it truly going to hold the ghostly memories and
black deeds of Richters past?

“Care to elaborate?” Xotichl says, the words carrying a surprising edge.

“Not really.” The smile he shoots her is grim. “Let’s just say this is destined to be no ordinary party.”

“The last party you threw, the club exploded and Phyre and Suriel Youngblood died, how do you plan to top that?”

“Turns out Phyre’s little pyrotechnic display was merely the pre-show. Each step leads to the next, as they say.”

His phone chimes again, claiming his attention.

“Anyway, nice catching up.” He turns on his heel, flashes the back of his hand.

“For you maybe.” Xotichl folds her arms defiantly over her chest, stiffening when he pauses, glances over his shoulder, and levels his focus on her.