Echo (35 page)

Unwilling to speak the horrible truth that lives deep inside me.

This is no ordinary snow flurry.

This is no meteorological inevitability.

Not when it sings like the wind—yet warms like the sun.

Falling from the sky in a rainbow of hues—accompanied by the most pure and glorious swell of symphony I’ve ever heard.

It’s the sound of angels.

It’s the sound of Daire saying good-bye.

Leaving us this one final gift—the snow as her elegy.

Dace

“Where is she?”

I cast about wildly. The words hardly more than a wet gurgled rasp, but I know that he heard me. Know he understood exactly what I asked.

I can feel him beside me.

Inside me.

All around me.

The boundaries between us now blurred.

We’re connected like never before.

I gaze upon my freak of a twin, now returned to human form, bearing not a single mark—unlike me and the fountain of blood that continuously sprays from my neck.

Pressing a hand to my wound, hoping to stanch the flow, I gather the strength to say, “What the hell have you done with her?”

While the question doesn’t sound quite like it did in my head, the smile that greets me is nothing shy of hideous, telling me he understood every word.

“Little glowing man took her,” he says. “My guess is they’re headed for the Upperworld. A world you’ll never be able to crack. Or at least not now, anyway. They’re a snooty, elitist group. The ultimate country club. They don’t welcome our kind. Still, it’s not like that stops us from trying. I’m desperate to breach it, and I’ve no doubt I will. I hear everything sparkles and glows in those parts—that they have a perfect view of everyone else. I’d really love to see that. Maybe someday,
we
can.” He shoots me a sardonic look.

I hate his use of
we.

Hate that it’s true.

Hate that I was led by my hate.

Hate is the reason I’m here.

The reason I willfully blackened my soul in an effort to save her—only to watch the whole thing backfire—unable to do anything but watch as the dream played out before me.

And just like the dream—I was too late to save her.

“I love a good irony, don’t you?” Cade cocks his head, leans down to pet his ghastly coyote. “Did you see the way she looked at you? Did you see that delicious mixture of shock, revulsion, and grief when she realized what you’d done, what you allowed yourself to become, in an effort to defeat me?”

I stagger forward, my head growing increasingly dizzy, my vision fuzzy and blurry. Fighting like hell to steady myself—to erase the scene he paints in my mind, refusing to remember Daire in that way.

“Not to be rude, but I’m pretty sure it’s quick to become my most favorite memory reel. Such tragedy! Such folly!” He throws his head back and laughs, emitting a sound as sick and monstrous as he is. Encouraging Coyote to point his snout in the air and let loose a long, plaintive howl, the racket they make an unwelcome disruption in a land returning to peace. He quiets himself, returning to me when he says, “To watch you purposely become the very thing that you hate, in an utterly foolish, and completely misguided effort to kill me—only to have that same transformation serve as the very thing that keeps you from her … It’s priceless. Made to order. Too good to be true. I couldn’t have dreamed it any better!” He indulges himself in a fit of amusement, before he turns to me and says, “Don’t you know—you don’t attract what you
want
, brother? You attract what you
are
. Figured someone like you would’ve known that.”

I press my hand to my neck, my fingers coming away slick and red. “You’ll pay for this!” I gasp. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Doubtful,” Cade says. “After all, you’re the one bleeding, not me. You’re the one who lost his fated one. Time to face reality, brother. Even if she was alive when she left here, she’s most likely
dropped her robe
by now. Isn’t that how your pal Leftfoot would describe it—a disrobing of the body?” He pauses long enough to smirk and roll his eyes. “Anyway, bro, I’ve no doubt she’s dead on arrival. Next time we’ll see her is on the Day of the Dead, when she’s forced to pay her respects to the Bone Keeper. And I think we both know Leandro will forgive me well before then. He’s always favored me. Has plenty to learn from me, whether he wants to admit it or not. In the end, this is no more than a speed bump—my life remains right on course. While yours, on the other hand, is anything but.” He gestures toward my bleeding, wounded neck. “You know that’s going to leave a scar, right? Yet another way they’ll be able to tell us apart. When you think about it, it’s really quite funny—the more you tried to become like me, the more you set yourself apart. If anyone failed tonight, brother, it’s
you
.”

I allow my eyes to drift closed, relishing the reprieve. But it’s only a second later when they’re open again, and I’m wiping my bloodied hands over my jeans. Gazing around a world returning to its former beauty, knowing it’s Daire’s doing.

The legacy she left us.

The least I can do is make sure it continues.

Cade’s right.

He’s not suffering. Has never known a single moment of it.

I’m the one who lost everything.

Took a risk by gambling my soul—only to lose it along with everything else that meant something to me.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t turn it around—make things right once again.

That doesn’t mean I can’t make one last bid at redemption.

I heave a shallow, ragged breath, hoping it’ll fortify enough to sustain me. Allow me to do what’s most needed.

Then I stare at the spot near Cade’s feet—willing it to me, but it seems my magick has abandoned me.

Left with no choice, I make the leap and dive toward him. Watching as he dances out of my reach. Wrongly assuming I’m diving after him.

But I’m not.

Not by a long shot.

There’s only one way to make up for what I’ve done.

Only one way to remedy all the wretchedness and ruin the Richters have wrought.

I reach for Daire’s athame—the one Cade used against her, still wet with her blood—and grasp hold of the hilt.

Only one way to end this—and I’m the only one willing to do it.

I raise the blade high, my gaze never once leaving Cade’s as I say, “Turns out, you were right all along. We’re connected in ways I never would’ve imagined.”

Reveling in the mix of horror and understanding that crosses his face.

Frantically lunging, though the move comes too late.

I’ve already swung the knife down.

Already jammed it straight into my gut.

The act scored by the sound of Cade screaming—Coyote yelping as though I struck him.

My vision blurred by a great spray of blood.

My blood. Cade’s blood. It’s one and the same.

Watching as my brother—my twin—the one I entered the world with, crumples to the ground, as I collapse right beside him.

They say when you die your whole life flashes before you—but all I can see are visions of Daire.

Daire laughing.

Smiling.

Daire lying beside me—cheeks flushed, looking at me with a gaze filled with love.

My fingers curl around the small golden key, as my eyes slide shut, determined to take the images with me.

Cade and I exiting same as we entered—together, yet alone.

The Soul Seeker Series Continues with

mystic

Coming May 2013

also by alyson noël

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Dark Flame

Shadowland

Blue Moon

Evermore

Dreamland

Whisper

Shimmer

Radiance

Cruel Summer

Saving Zoë

Kiss & Blog

Fly Me to the Moon

Laguna Cove

Art Geeks and Prom Queens

Faking 19

Fated

About the Author

ALYSON NOËL is the #1
New York
Times
bestselling author of the Immortals series, the Riley Bloom series, and seven previous novels for St. Martin’s Press. She lives in Laguna Beach, California, where she is at work on her next book. Visit her on the Web at
www.alysonnoel.com
.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ECHO.
Copyright © 2012 by Alyson Noël, LLC. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Cover design by Elsie Lyons

Cover photographs: girl © Herman Estevez; cave © Glen Allison/Getty Images; snow © gigello and ARENA Creative/Shutterstock; texture © stock09/Shutterstock

ISBN 978-0-312-66487-9 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-0-312-57566-3 (trade paperback)

ISBN 978-1-250-01578-5 (e-book)

First Edition: November 2012