The Soul Seekers: Horizon (19 page)

I lean against the doorway, indulging a long sweet moment to linger on the drape of her dark hair trailing over her shoulder, the flush at her cheeks, the hollow of her neck, the curve of her
thighs gleaming under the glow of security lights.

The sight of her soft, creamy flesh causing my spine to stiffen, my muscles to cord and flex, as my pulse begins to race, and a hunger stirs deep within.

I throw my head back and drag a deep breath, filling my head with her sweet, hypnotic scent.

Aware of the beat of her heart slamming hard in her chest.

The soft whistle of breath passing her lips.

The salty trickle of sweat that’s slipped between her breasts.

Her essence so enticing, so alluring, the small remnant of the old me yearns to run to her, confide how much I love her, how much I’ve missed her. Tell her she’s right—we can
do this together.

Unfortunately, the beast wholeheartedly concurs. Thinking how much fun it will be to soften her up, before he destroys her.

Slowly, very slowly, she slips a hand down her leg, reaches for the knife she’s stashed in her boot.

Come. Come to me,
the beast coos.

His voice overpowering my own urge to warn her to run while she can.

She grasps the hilt. Removes the sheath until the blade glints silver. Then waits for me to make the first move.

Leaves it to me to determine how this unfolds.

A smart move that buys her another night.

Better not tempt a beast that’s not mine to control.

Determined to get away before I lose it completely, I slip into my office, shut the door between us, and bolt it securely.

“Tell me again why we’re meeting him all the way out here—in what can literally be described as the middle of nowhere?” I peer through the windshield,
unable to free myself of this deep sense of unease, much less pinpoint its cause, other than to say nothing looks as it should.

When we first set out, the sky was perfectly clear and littered with stars—a typical Enchantment hot summer night (albeit a lot hotter than usual). But here, the sky is choked with clouds
as thick, ominous, and wide as the sea. And other than countless tribes of tumbleweeds, and the narrow dirt road unspooling beneath us, there’s virtually nothing else to speak of.

It’s the kind of eerie, desolate landscape often seen in nightmares and horror movies.

A haunting place of dark secrets, bad deeds.

“We came all this way because it’s convenient for Luther. It’s where he wanted to meet.” Auden picks up the speed, places a reassuring hand on my knee.

“Well, don’t you think he should’ve made it convenient for
us
? After all, you’re the one signing the contract.”

“Exactly.” Auden peers at me through a clump of thick, shaggy bangs that fall into his eyes. “And if it wasn’t for Luther, there’d be no contract to
sign.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” I frown. “Luther’s the one who’s set to benefit the most. As they say in Vegas—the house always wins.”

“Which means the record company is the one set to benefit most. Then Luther. Then me. Don’t forget, I’m just the lowly musician.” He laughs, jiggles my knee in an attempt
to get me to laugh too, or at least lighten up, but it doesn’t quite work. “Listen,” he says, determined to try again and relieve at least some of my tension. “The location
may suck, but I’m lucky to be here. It’s not like anyone else was lining up to give me a contract.”

“That’s because you mostly played the Rabbit Hole and a few clubs in Albuquerque. It’s not like this is Nashville, New York, or L.A. It’s not like you were really out
there marketing yourself.”

“Because I couldn’t stand the time spent away from you. It never seemed worth it.”

“And now you can?”

“Hardly.” He leans across the seat to plant a kiss on my cheek, drawing away as he says, “Also, I knew we were okay, but not quite good enough. I wanted to get our sound
together before we went wide.”

“Yeah, but now it’s just you. It’s not like they wanted the rest of the band.”

“And I still feel bad about that.”

“I always thought it was a cool name, but maybe in a way it was a little too prophetic.”

He looks at me.

“You know, Epitaph getting its epitaph . . .”

His lips flatten, he focuses back on the road, and we both fall silent. Allowing a few miles to pass before Auden says, “Thing is, my sound still isn’t quite where I want it, nor
where they want it, but luckily they’re willing to work with me.”

I lift my shoulders, stare out the side window.

Which probably isn’t the reaction he was looking for, since it prompts him to say, “Xotichl, are you not happy for me?”

“No.” I look at his crestfallen face, instantly realizing my mistake. “I mean,
yes!
I
am
happy for you. You have no idea. But I also think you’re acting
too grateful.”

“Since when is gratitude a negative?”

“In general, hardly ever. But when you get that
I’m just so lucky to be here I’ll put up with anything
attitude—then it’s a problem.”

“That’s hardly the case.”

“Isn’t it?” I turn to him with a challenging look. “You dropped the band without once looking back, and now we’re headed for the ends of the earth because
it’s convenient for Luther. Never mind that it’s completely out of our way.”

Auden sighs, lifts his fingers from the wheel, then returns with a grip that appears twice as tight. “It’s not quite as simple as that. There’s more to it. Stuff I didn’t
want to bother you with. But the important thing is, once this contract is signed, my songs are recorded, and I’m playing on the radio all over the world, it’s going to be pretty tough
for your mom to say I’m not good enough for you.”

I slink further down in my seat, not sure I’d agree. Auden is my first and only boyfriend, so I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty convinced that where my mother’s
concerned, no boy will ever be good enough for her little girl.

At first I thought her overprotectiveness was due to my blindness. Like it stemmed from this instinctual, maternal urge to keep me safe and buffered from the big, bad, dangerous
world—especially the big, bad, dangerous world of boys.

Despite Auden’s genius IQ, despite the fact that he graduated early so he could attend university, she remained unimpressed. And now that my sight has returned, she’s waged a whole
new defense for why we shouldn’t be together. Turning what should be a happy, if not celebratory time, into a constant series of battles, both big and small. And the truth is, the war
she’s waging is turning out to be far more successful than I’d like to admit.

It’s making me feel torn between them.

I love Auden with all of my heart, same as he loves me.

And I just don’t get why that isn’t enough.

“That must be him.” Auden tips his head toward the windshield and the landscape of endless miles of nothing beyond. “See those headlights, right up there where the two roads
cross—it’s gotta be him, right?”

“Either that or an escaped mental patient turned serial killer who’s just waiting for some unsuspecting teenagers to drive past.”

“That’s it—no more scary movies for you.” He squeezes my hand with fingers gone slightly clammy. Guess I didn’t realize how nervous he is, and everything I’ve
said since I got in the car has probably only served to make it worse.

I need to try harder. He’s worked his whole life for this moment. And I have to stop questioning every last detail.

He pulls to the side of the road, sets the brake, and checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. As I peer through the windshield at the lone car parked on the other side of the place where
the roads intersect.

Once again, we have to go to him. He can’t even get out of his car and meet us halfway.

I clamp my lips shut before I can break my vow and put a voice to the thought. My dislike of this man is irrational and better kept to myself. He’s never actually given me a reason to
loathe him like this.

“He has another engagement in Albuquerque,” Auden says. “So we need to make this quick.”

“Quick works for me.” I gather my gown in my hands, while Auden leaps from his side and comes around to open my door. A holdover from the days when I couldn’t see, but
it’s sweet all the same.

It’s even hotter out here than it was in Enchantment. And with the blanket of clouds overhead, the air feels so heavy it’s like a thermal canopy has been draped over us. Auden folds
my hand in his and leads me across the dirt road toward the car with the headlights blazing so bright, I’m forced to lift a hand to my forehead to shield my eyes from the glare.

I lean into his shoulder, seeking comfort in his touch. Determined to enjoy every second I can from this moment on. I’ve already wasted too much time feeling grumpy, and we both deserve
better.

Despite Daire having a pretty good plan, despite all of us having studied it again and again until we’ve memorized our parts, there’s no telling how this will end. The least I can do
is enjoy every last moment of peace I can find with my boyfriend.

I stop just shy of the car, and say, “I’m happy for you, Auden. I really, truly am. I’m sorry if I made it appear otherwise.”

He drops a kiss on my cheek. “I know, flower.” He grins. “You’re just looking out for me. You’ve always got my back.” Then he leads me the last few steps to
the car, where we angle our faces away from the lights, as Luther climbs out of the car.

“Sorry about the glare. It’s so dark out here, I figured we could use the light.” Then looking at me, he says, “Xotichl, wow. I’ve never seen you so radiant.”
He grins, extends a hand, and not seeing a viable alternative that wouldn’t be considered inordinately rude, I clasp it in mine. “How are you getting on?” he asks.

I extricate myself from his grip and shoot him an uncertain look, not exactly sure what he means.

“Auden tells me you got your sight back. That must be a truly incredible experience.”

It’s all I can do to nod in reply. The heat is so heavy, the air so thin, it’s rendered me dizzy, light-headed, like I’m two breaths from fainting.

“Going from a world of total darkness to a world of color and light . . . I can’t even imagine how that might feel.”

My eyes graze past his absurd ponytail and double hoop earrings, and focus hard on his lips, trying to determine the color of his words. But his speech flows frustratingly clear.
“You’d be surprised,” I say, finally finding my voice. “My world wasn’t nearly as dark as you think.”

He quirks a brow, stares down the bridge of his nose.

The moment of awkwardness is broken when Auden says, “We should probably get started. We’ve got to get to the Rabbit Hole, and I know you need to get to Albuquerque . . .”

Luther turns to him with a look I can’t read. His face obscured when he says, “Right. Let’s get on with it then.”

He leans into his car, reaches across the passenger seat, and returns with a beautiful designer briefcase stuffed with a thick stack of papers he sets on the hood.

“I know, it looks like a lot.” Luther glances at me. “But this should only take a minute. Two at the most. The signature lines are all tagged. All Auden has to do is sign, and
you’ll be on your way.”

“You’re not going to at least look them over?” I turn to Auden, assuring myself I’m being supportive, as opposed to mistrusting.

“I’ve already seen ’em. This is just the formality, right?” Auden looks to Luther to verify.

“If you want to read through it again, s’okay by me.” Luther grins in a way that makes his cheeks appear waxy and tight, as though they’re unused to the move.
“Don’t worry about me. I can be a few minutes late. After all, Xotichl’s right. This is your future. You can’t be too cautious.”

Auden lifts the stack of papers, does a quick scan of each page. “Looks good,” he says, rooting around in his pocket in search of a pen.

“You serious?” Luther squints at the Bic. “You’re not really planning to sign with that, are you?”

“Cap’s a little chewed, but it works.” Auden looks sheepish, worried he’s already blown it before it’s begun.

“That’s fine for scratching down a song on a napkin, but moments like these deserve something special.” He pulls a shiny black pen from his pocket and hands it to Auden. His
eyes glinting as Auden rolls the pen back and forth across his palm.

“Are those
sapphires
?” He studies the jewel-crusted cap. “Guess that’s the difference between a pen and a writing instrument.” He looks between Luther and
me. “This thing probably cost more than my car!”

“Oh, it definitely costs more than
your
car.” Luther laughs, casting a derisive glance toward Auden’s wreck of a station wagon. “Those are real gems on the cap,
the barrel is onyx, and the nub is crafted from gold. Twenty-four karats, at that.”

“And what’s the pattern engraved on it? I can’t quite make it out . . .”

“Sun and moon.”

Auden squints, angles the pen toward the light.

“Got a thing for astronomy.” Luther lifts his shoulder, makes a guilty face. “Anyway . . .” He gestures toward the papers he’s spread across the hood of his car, as
Auden slips off the gem-covered cap and prepares for the moment he’s been dreaming of since he was a kid, but ends up flinching instead.