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“You’re the Seeker,” he says.
I close my eyes, wishing I could rewind my life. I never would’ve come here. I never would’ve let it get to this point. And because of it, I would’ve ended up just like my dad—dead before my time. So, in an effort to avoid that, I decided to claim my destiny, only to find myself nothing more than a cog in its wheel. Steered by circumstance, with no say of my own.
So lost in my thoughts I nearly miss it when Dace says, “And Cade is Coyote—a member of the El Coyote clan, which all Richters are.”
My shoulders sag. I wish I could disappear, vanish straight into the ether.
“And I’m the Echo of Coyote.”
I rub my lips together, growing increasingly uncomfortable, having no idea where he’s going with this but sensing it’s about to get worse.
He takes a deep breath, scratches hard at his chin. His voice a chilled whisper, he says, “This won’t end well.” His eyes light on mine. “Someone is destined to die. I’ve had dreams—dreams I now recognize as prophecy. We can’t all survive. And while I can’t stop loving you, Daire—while it’s far too late for that—I can stop…” He grinds his jaw, speaking the words with great effort. “I can stop feeding our love. Now that I know it strengthens him, I’m left with no choice. It’s like he said, he’s the beneficiary of every loving thought that I have for you. And there’s no denying that the more time I spend with you, the more my love for you grows. But now, knowing what we know, we can’t afford to continue—can’t afford to be together. We have to make the sacrifice. Put some distance between us. We’re left with no choice.”
“No,” I say, the word so shaky I repeat it with all the force I can muster. “No! No way. I won’t have it. Your brother’s a creep—a freak! He’s a power-hungry, black-hearted beast, bent on world domination, and I refuse to roll over and let him win. I refuse to play by his rules. Besides, how can we be sure that it’s true? Maybe that’s not what the Echo is. Maybe it means something else entirely.” I cry, but the words ring desperate and untrue even to my ears.
“Did you not see him?” Dace cries, his voice as incredulous as his face. “That was no illusion—that was all too real!”
I sigh, reluctantly admitting, “It wasn’t the first time. I’ve seen it before.”
“Me too…” Dace’s voice fades as he stares at the peeling yellow paint, his mind traveling to a faraway place. “And that didn’t end well either, or at least not for us. Though he seemed quite pleased…” I shoot him a quizzical look, but he just shakes his head, and folds his keys in his palm. “Come on. It’s getting late. I’ll drive you home.”
I follow him outside to his old beater truck, climbing in beside him as he cranks up the heat to ward off the chill. But the hot air blowing from the vent bears no effect. My body’s as numb as my heart, and a rise in temperature is not going to change that.
He navigates the dirt roads in silence, until he stops before Paloma’s blue gate and turns to me to say, “This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Nothing could ever do that.”
I swallow hard. Turn my back on the words. Reaching for the door handle with burning eyes and a throat gone too tight to reply.
“If you want, I’ll drive you to school tomorrow, but you might want to try to arrange something else after that. No need to make this any harder than it is.”
I push the door open and slip free of his truck. Aware of the weight of his gaze, following me as I carefully pick my way past the blue gate. Then the moment it slams shut behind me, I race through Paloma’s front door, where I collapse into her arms in a big sobbing heap.
nine
“Nieta?” Paloma clasps me tightly to her chest and coos into my hair. “Nieta, what has happened?”
I pull away, furiously erasing the tears with the backs of my hands. Crying is something I rarely allow, and crying in front of others is something I can barely tolerate from myself. I try to speak, but the words sputter and stall in my throat, as if I’m reluctant to give them any more weight, any more power to hurt me than they already have.
Paloma studies my face. Brushing a soft, papery hand across my brow, her eyes shining with compassion, she sighs softly and says, “And so it begins.”
I squint, having no idea what that means. Paloma’s always had an uncanny way of reading my emotions, but this time feels different. It feels like a setup. Like she was camped by the door, waiting for me to burst in.
“I’m so sorry, nieta. I feared this would happen.” Her voice rings sincere, but the words leave me disturbed.
She hands me a tissue I use to dab at my face, until the tissue grows so soggy and useless I crumple it in my fist. “Feared what would happen?” I try to get a read on her, but as usual, her expression is inscrutable. “I haven’t told you anything yet.”
She stares into my eyes, and not missing a beat, she replies, “The life of a Seeker is difficult.” Her hand reaches for me, but seeing the way I recoil at her touch, she quickly drops it to her side. “And romance always comes with a price.”
“So you knew?” I cross my arms in defiance, thinking it would’ve been nice if she’d thought to share that with me. But then again, maybe she did and I just didn’t listen.
She’s definitely dropped a few hints along the way. Including the night just after her soul was returned, when she told me that Dace and I were fated. I was completely exalted by the news, while her own reaction was anything but.
I return to her, a cold chill pocking my skin when she says, “No, nieta, I didn’t know for sure. I merely suspected what the pendulum, along with your appearance just now, have confirmed.”
“But I haven’t confirmed anything. I haven’t said a single word about what happened today. So how could you know? Are you spying on me too?”
“Too?” She lifts a brow.
But instead of explaining, I clamp my lips shut, refusing to say anything more. The vow lasting only a handful of seconds, before I look at her and plead, “Paloma, please, I need to know what you know—and I need to know it now.”
