The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1)
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“E, let me help you into the house. You can sit down.” I met Layla’s gaze, hers telling me to keep my shit together.

I didn’t want to keep tight rein on my emotions. I wanted to rage and scream, not just at her, but also at my mom—at least I assumed my mom was responsible—for doing something to me to make me forget chunks of my past. I was even angrier with my mom for getting captured. For lying to me about my father.

For leaving me alone.

Much as I hated to admit it, something deep inside me—that primal part I’d awakened—didn’t think I’d see my mom again. At least not alive.

I sealed my lips, refusing to let the moan claw its way out of my throat.

“Echo. Focus. On me.” Layla gripped my arms, hers steady. “That’s it. Breathe.”

My disheveled reflection in her eyes stared back at me. My top was streaked with dirt. Glancing down, my lower lip trembled. My new pants were ripped, showing my bloody hip. My pretty new clothes were the least of my problems, but they seemed to tip the scale. Hot tears blurred my vision.

“It’s going to be okay.” Layla’s voice was soft.

“You can’t know that,” I whispered back.

I had no idea how I’d gotten the cuts on my hip or thigh, but it must’ve had something to do with Coyote’s mass of warriors who’d tried to yank me into the pit while the spirits in the pendant tried to pull me up into the sky.

“What about my aunts?” I gasped.

“Do you want to do this right now?” Layla asked, her lips pinching in that way that meant I wasn’t going to like what she had to say next.

I considered her for a long moment before answering my own question. “We’re not related, are we? My mom inserted us there, into that family.” An ache built in my chest and spread, faster than Coyote could move through my body. Everything hurt, especially my heart. I thumped my fist against my unmarred thigh. “That’s why I always felt so disconnected from them. Like I was an impostor.” I spat the word. Hating the feel of it on my tongue near as much as how it made me feel.

Unwanted. Unloved.

Layla bit her lip, looking away.

“And . . . and I’m not hum—”

I couldn’t say it. No way. I had to be human. I shuddered, a hard, painful jolt forcing my body to reset.

“Where’s ‘here’?” I finally asked.

“Yupkoyvi.”

I closed my eyes and breathed deep through my nose. “That’s one of the Native American names for Chaco Canyon, Layla. Look around.” I spread my arms out wide, encompassing the obvious Arizona landscape. “We aren’t at Chaco.”

“Never said we were,” Layla said.

“So where is ‘here’?” I asked again.

“Near the Second Mesa. In ancient Hisatsinom land.”

“So we are in Arizona?”

“Yep.”

I snorted. Leading with the actual location would have been so much less confusing.

“How did I get here?”

Layla smiled, her eyes brightening as her teeth flashed white. “Here, specifically? Coyote opened a portal inside the wind tunnel his warriors used to travel to your house. A very efficient means of transport, if you can use it. But you have to disguise the gateways—we call them
sipapus
—from the humans.”

“Zeke opened one.”

“He’s the only non-god I know of who can. Part of the original reasoning was to keep the
kachina
, hell-spawn, and everything else horrible from here. I mean this world. There’s way more to feast on here than in the dead lands of the three lower worlds.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered. Frustration bubbled through my head, making it throb with the precursor of a massive headache. I pressed my fingers to my temples. None of this made any sense.

She walked forward, nearly dragging me onto a small porch.

“Basically, Coyote opened a
sipapu
and hid it in a cloud in case he needed additional reinforcements to take down your mom. She’s pretty formidable in her own right. For a half-god.”

Another shudder. I wasn’t going to be able to process all this information. Holding my breath, I nodded. “That’s why they grabbed me.”

“But you froze that one kachina, which they weren’t expecting. And neither was I, because I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that.”

“Then how did I?”

“Maybe you’re a spirit seducer. That’s what they’re called in the old legends.”

I nodded. I was familiar with the stories.

“Why did I pass out up there in the sky?”

“Those spirits overcompensated and you went too high before you fell into the portal.”

I glanced around the room Layla led me to. It was large, more so because of the sparse furnishings. There was a rustic leather couch and two chairs of the same style. Not quite Southwestern, but definitely with that flair. The floor was made of large-plank pine. Two rugs in a bright weave covered portions of the room near a Shepherd’s fireplace. Copper-bottomed pots, varying from small saucepans to a battered Dutch oven, hung on the far wall behind a small counter.

I laid my hand on the wall, needing a moment to adjust to the darker interior. The wall was rough, the iron gray of adobe bricks. So similar to what I’d grown up around, yet the differences were stark.

Layla stepped aside, away from me. Panic spiked, zinging through my system at DEFCON one. She was the only person who could help me figure out what had happened to my mother and the world I’d thought I lived in.

I lunged at her, digging my fingers tightly into the sleeve of her long, striped tunic. She looked down at my white-knuckled grip before she met my gaze.

“Try to relax. That’s the best thing you can do right now. For your mom, for yourself.”

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.

“Then don’t walk away. Please.”

I forced my fingers to unwind from her sleeve. I stepped back and watched Layla walk toward a wall sconce. One of those old-fashioned kinds that I’d seen in historical movies. I’d always associated those with drafty castles and maidens in long dresses. Opening a small door in the wall, Layla pulled out a red plastic fireplace lighter. With deft motions, she lit the first candle and moved to the next. After lighting six of the large tapers, the room was bright enough for me to no longer jump at the shadows that lurked in the corners.

Layla settled into one of the chairs and looked at me, her eyes expectant.

“You’ve been here before,” I said.

“Many times.”

The way Zeke and Layla had talked . . . they’d known each other for a while. I swallowed down my jealousy. Just how close were Layla and Zeke?

I rolled his name around in my head. I’d spent so much time with books; I’d read the Bible twice, so I knew Ezekiel meant “God Strengthens” in Hebrew. Yep, the name suited him just right. But he couldn’t be Christian—not if he hung out with Hisatsinom gods, killing demons.

“So why would Zeke be named after a prophet for a different religion?”

Layla shrugged, nonplussed by my question. “I don’t think it’s his original name, but it’s not like he really talks about himself all that much.”

“So, he—what? Chose his own name?”

“That’s not what Shakola said. She’s the cloud goddess. She said Masau picked it. Masau thought it sounded very human. Earthly.”

“So Zeke knows other gods, then? Besides Masau and Coyote?”

Layla nodded. “He’s always lived here, on the ancient lands. I promise, he’ll do everything he can to locate your mother,” she said, her voice fervent.

I’d argued with my mom this morning. Now I might never see her again. We hadn’t had a chance to make up. Not properly. I fidgeted.

I needed to find my mom. Now. I had to apologize. To tell her I loved her. To make sure she was safe.

“You need to stop thinking so loud. Anyone can hear you.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d trusted me,” I snapped. My frustration and anger threatened to spill over. I slammed my lips together, locking my jaw. I was well aware of the power of words and how much damage they could do. The silence built until I forced my gaze back to Layla. Weariness glazed her eyes, making them dull.

“I know, E. Gods. I know.”

I turned in a tight circle, seeking . . . something. I didn’t know what to do, or think, or even be right now. Layla stood, wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into her, shuddering.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I know you’re worried about your mom, E. I am, too.” Layla’s eyes welled with tears.

My lower lip quivered. No. I pulled away and stood.

“I want to go search for her.” I kept my voice firm, my breathing steady. Inside, though, everything hurt and worry flooded my system. Terrible images of what could be filled my mind and I nearly caved in, sinking to the floor to gasp and blubber.

I managed to hold on. Barely.

“You can’t. I know it’s hard. But you’re the one Coyote wants.”

I gripped my hands together as I began to pace the room. “I hate this, Layla. I can’t just leave my mom out there somewhere. Coyote was angry.”

“You’re not. Zeke’s looking. He’s amazing. If anyone can find her, it’ll be Zeke.”

I exhaled in a long trail of negativity as my mom had taught me to do. I’d do what I always did when I wanted to redirect my concerns. I’d ask questions, gather information. Learn. Build likely scenarios in my head. Fix the problem.

“Who is Zeke exactly?” I asked. I needed to know where and how he fit into my life. And why I’d dreamed about him.

“He’s Masau’s adopted son. He’s lived with Masau since he was a toddler.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He never told me.”

“But he’s been protecting me. And you’ve met him before.”

“Yes. Though, technically, he’s been protecting both of us. It’s just that you didn’t know it.”

I twisted a section of my hair around my finger. “You know what doesn’t make sense? For me to have a protector. Who are the Four?”

“That’s not important right now,” Layla soothed. She smiled. “Let’s worry about some other details first, okay?”

“No. I want to know.”

“I can’t tell you. Not while you’re this upset.”

I slammed my fist against the nearest object, a wooden chair. The wood bruised my hand. I turned back to Layla, rubbing the sting out of my skin. Her hair glowed golden and her eyes were like molten silver. She stood so tall and lithe, almost a sprite. But more. My jailer at the moment.

“Are you even real?” I demanded.

She blinked at me, her eyes round, her lips parting in surprise. She threw back her head and laughed. The sound edged toward hysteria, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She clutched her belly.

“Were you ever my friend?” My voice was low because I had to force the words out. Layla quit laughing and her gray eyes darkened to flint as she studied my face.

“That’s what you’re worried about? After what you’ve seen in the last hour?”

“Seems fairly important to find out my best friend isn’t what she said she was,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I mean, I just found out Zeke’s been stalking me for years. You know him. Apparently, I know him, too, but . . .” I exhaled. The answer was there, staring back at me in all its ugliness. I’d guessed it already, prayed I was wrong. “My mom wiped my brain. Without my permission.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples, willing my mind back to the memory of meeting Zeke, but my headache blazed again. My eyes slammed shut against the sharp pains from the light. I took a few deep breaths, hoping to bypass the worst of the nausea.

“Something’s wrong with my head.”

“I think it’ll get better,” Layla said, her voice soft but her concern evident. “Now that you know the truth.”

“You think, but you don’t know.”

“Your mom said that with time, the spells would fade.”

“When I found out the truth about my heritage?” I asked.

“When she—” Layla swallowed, gripping her fingers together. “When she weakens too far to keep up the magic. She said she’d set up a plan so that you’d be protected, but still have everything you needed to see the prophecy to its fruition. I hope that means we win.” at hearing all that Layla had confessed, my knees buckled and I collapsed onto the sofa.

She kept her gaze fixed firmly on me, much like a cat who’d spotted a mouse. “Tell me, what are you thinking?”

“You and my mom have been colluding for years—lying to me. You helped my mom enforce all her rules.” I glared, my lips mashed together so Layla wouldn’t see the telltale quiver of my chin. “Those rules didn’t keep my mom very safe, did they?”

Her face softened. “That’s wrong. I am your friend.”

I snorted. She edged closer, sat next to me.

“That’s why I’m here. To protect you.”

“From Coyote?”

Layla shook her head, her eyes darting around the empty room. “Not exactly. He’s a problem, but not
the problem
.”

“What is
the problem
?”

“It has to do with the Four. But let’s not go there yet. You’re on overload.”

“More secrets.” The frustration foamed over again, and I stood. Ten steps to the right then back to my left, I paced, not even caring when I kicked up Zeke’s hand-woven rug. “That’s the problem, Layla. I don’t have any secrets. You know why? I didn’t ever do anything, go anywhere.”

Layla wouldn’t meet my eyes when she said, “That was because of the headaches . . .”

“That my mom caused by trying to suppress my memory.”

Layla shrugged as she rubbed her finger along the seam in the leather chair she sat in.

“Right, Layla?” Anger fired through my veins.

“No. Your magic.”

“And why the hell would she want to suppress any abilities I have?” The negative energy coated my skin. “Knowing how to use them today would’ve been really, really helpful.”

My necklace heated and the temperature around me dropped.

“Stop!” Layla and I cried together. I didn’t need any spirits—at least I hoped I didn’t. Not against Layla.

“I’m fine,” I muttered. “No threats.”

I clutched my arms close. “My mom knew gods existed. She’s a half-god. You knew. And Zeke . . . He’s powerful. Not just as a fighter. He’s got magical capabilities. You said he moved the portal. Closed it. I watched him open one.”

Layla let me ramble; she’d seen me do this before and knew that I’d wrap my head around the situation more quickly that way.

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