The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1) (14 page)

I had to place my hands on his shoulders to keep from falling over as he slid the material up my thighs and over my hips. His head was even with my abdomen. When he exhaled, the puff of his breath slid across my stomach. My skin tingled and I stiffened, shocked by the intimacy. He scooted back, putting more distance between us, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing felt right.

I didn’t want Zeke to touch me, but I did. I wanted more than simply his touch. I wanted pleasure from his hands to wipe out the nasty feel of Jaguar’s and Coyote’s bruising grip on my body.

He stood and unclasped my bra with a quick flick. He pulled my cami over my head, waiting for me to lift my arms before he smoothed the material over my sides. His eyes never left mine; never dropped to my bare chest. I couldn’t keep the single tear from falling down my cheek. The respect he’d just shown me—how he’d known I’d needed it—I was so thankful for the acknowledgment that I was more than a sexual object.

“Stay with me?” I whispered. Not what I’d planned to say, but I wasn’t sorry for the words.

He searched my face, his big hand brushing the wet hair off my forehead. His lips curved upward but didn’t reach his eyes, which remained filled with worry. “Sure.”

I climbed into his bed, groaning at all my aches.

“Get some sleep, Echo. I’ll keep you safe.”

I lay there, staring at him. He stared back. I shuddered, but the fear was too overwhelming for pride.

“Will you hold me?” I asked, and my voice broke.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice hesitant.

“Please. When I close my eyes, I see Jaguar. I feel his hands on my body. I don’t want him near me. Not even if it’s a dream.”

My teeth chattered as I relived the feel of Jaguar’s teeth piercing my flesh.

Zeke walked around behind me and slid under the sheets. He pulled me back against his chest, pushing my wet hair over his arm. I was rigid, still unsure what I wanted from him. He kept petting my head. The strokes were long, soothing. I calmed enough to take a deep shuddering breath.

“How about a bedtime story?”

“Yes. Great.” I stiffened my muscles, trying to stop the deep, painful shudders still wracking my limbs. “Thank you.”

“You can relax.”

“I can’t,” I choked. “I really can’t. Because if I do, I think about—”He pressed his fingers into the back of my neck, just deep enough to relive the tension pooled there. I groaned and melted back into him. He shifted up against the headboard. In that position, he towered over me. So many images of this type of dominance from earlier tonight blossomed in my mind, flashing in quick succession. But with Zeke, I was safe.

When he looked into my eyes, I mean really looked, I calmed. His long, callused fingers caressed my jaw.

“You wear your emotions outside,” he said.

I frowned, letting my annoyance flash. He wasn’t the first person to comment on my lack of emotional control.

“My mom calls me a loose cannon.”

“The gods are always plotting, always trying to gain more power. There’s never anything real in their interactions.” He paused, meeting my eyes. Only Layla and my mother ever had held my gaze before. The moment lengthened. My chest tightened with gratitude. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your openness.”

He continued to study my eyes, and the prolonged scrutiny made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I cleared my throat. “So what’s the bedtime story?”

Zeke leaned forward, which brought me more firmly against his chest. He opened the bedside drawer next to him and pulled out a small container topped with shells and turquoise. The pattern was intricate. “This is courtesy of Masau.”

My heart rate sped up as he opened it. A thick white mist gathered around his hand, and my muscles coiled, ready to run.

“It’s okay. It’s not like the magic earlier,” he murmured.

He drew something out, forming a series of glyphs in the air in front of us. I had no idea what they were. The Hisatsinom tradition was oral; there wasn’t much of a written record of their history, which was why I’d studied all the native tribes in the region.

The mist thickened and then morphed into a mini version of a person. I leaned forward until my nose almost touched the mist. My heart tumbled painfully and I fell back against Zeke’s shoulder. A woman. Young, petite. Dark hair. She turned toward us. I gripped Zeke’s thigh.

“Mom!”

“When you mentioned the kachina in the shower, I realized you didn’t get quite the same education I did. Another of Masau’s teachings was that all life is energy,” Zeke said.

I struggled to pay attention as the scene shifted. Someone stepped out of the shadows. I gasped. He was much taller than my mother; probably twice the height Coyote had appeared earlier.

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.”

* * *

“
E
cho
!”

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.”