Fated (The Soul Seekers 1)

She ducks inside the office, and I slink in behind her. The two of us holding our breath, pressed hard against the wall, as someone makes their way down the hall.

When Xotichl’s sure that they’re gone, she reaches beside her, grabs hold of Cade’s baseball bat, and thrusts it into my hands, saying, “You might need it to defend yourself in case the cigarettes don’t work.”

I run my palm down the length of the bat, testing its weight and heft, as we exit the office and she leads me down the series of halls, searching for signs of the vortex or Cade, whichever comes first, while I track all the same landmarks from the last time I was here: the stray gum wrapper, the heart-shaped piece of missing paint, the bubble of water damage, Cade’s squashed cigarette butts. Training my focus on the things that go unseen, hoping to coax them to spring into view.

Though unlike last time, there’s a strange chemical scent pervading the air that seems to intensify the farther we go. And it’s not long before Xotichl stops, tilts her head toward me, and whispers, “This is it.”

I stare at the wall, noting how it’s still soft, malleable, recently breached, with no sign of the demons, but that doesn’t mean they’re not waiting inside.

“You know you can’t join me,” I say, overcome by guilt for allowing her to take me this far and hoping she can find her way back unharmed.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m stronger than I look. I’ll deal with your mom, while you deal with Cade. And, Daire…” I look at her—see the way her lip trembles, surprising me when she says, “Go kick some Richter ass!”

I lunge toward the wall that’s already closing. Shoving right into it, bat first, pushing so hard it’s like merging into a solid wall of taffy—sticky, gooey, molding around me—until it finally gives way and I burst through, slamming headfirst into one of the demons—the big one who guards the vortex.

We stare at each other, the two of us momentarily stunned, until he growls so loudly it alerts the others to join him.

They surround me, their massive paws and razor-sharp nails swiping at me from all sides, leaving me no choice but to shake the cigarettes loose from the pack, toss them behind me, and bolt.

Glancing over my shoulder to see the demons dive after them, snarling and hissing in an effort to get to them first, I race for the tunnel that leads to the cave. The crash of my boots against the metal trilling too loudly, leaving me with no choice but to ditch them and tiptoe the rest of the way. Careful to keep my breath light, shallow—allowing only the briefest sigh of relief when I reach the end undetected and creep past the entry into a room lit by bright blazing torches. The frenetic lick of flames sparking and flaring in a way that illuminates the ribbons of strung marigolds and beads draped across the walls—the skeletons propped among the furniture with hand-painted skull masks secured to their heads—the usual Day of the Dead décor, but in here the effect is especi

ally chilling.

That strong chemical scent growing in intensity, as I move through the rooms, forcing me to clasp one hand over my face to block out the smell, as the other clutches hard at the bat, and it’s then that I see him.

See them.

The whole lot of them wearing identical black-and-white skull masks with red dripping mouths—waiting for the party to begin.

Coyote sees me first. Ducking his head, he snarls in protest, as Cade stands before an elaborate altar draped with a starched white tablecloth, covered with flaming beeswax candles, decapitated marigold heads, a plate piled high with ornately decorated sugar skull candies, a crystal carafe filled with something resembling red wine but that could just as easily be blood, and at least a hundred black-and-white photos of blank smiling faces strewn along the top. His back turned, arms embracing a glowing metal container that floods the room with a brilliant spectrum of light.

“So you made it,” he says, not bothering to face me. Taking a moment to shush Coyote when he adds, “And just in time too. I knew you’d see the beauty of my plan. And now, because of it, the victory is ours to share.”

The undead Richters make horrible yipping sounds, as Cade turns, his eyes red and glowing behind his own gruesome skull mask that looks a lot like the demon face I know from the dream.

“Smell that?” He tosses his head back, makes a show of inhaling deeply. “It’s the sweet scent of insecticide. Had to spray the whole place. Seems a cockroach managed to sneak his way in just the other day.” His gaze levels on mine, flaring in amusement when he adds, “Wasn’t you, was it?”

I don’t reply. Don’t so much as flinch. I just secure the bat from his view and tighten my grip. Determined to at least give the appearance of holding my own, even though deep down inside, I’m quaking all the way to my toes.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve come. That you’ve decided to join me in a moment so great.” He hugs the container close to his chest. “The second it’s over, we’ll go straight to my father—though don’t be surprised if Leandro doesn’t accept you at first. He may even move in to kill you—but I’ll be right by your side and I won’t let that happen. Besides, once we’ve had a chance to explain it, once he sees for himself just how much we can accomplish by working together, I know he’ll see the brilliance of my plan.” He lifts his shoulders in a way that causes the orb to lift, surging so precariously toward the lip, it’s all I can do to remain rooted in place, to not rush forward and snatch it away. “This is the perfect ending to a ridiculous, primitive feud. It’s also a wonderful beginning to a partnership that’s long overdue. You see, Leandro had it all wrong. Not only did he fail by accidentally conjuring my aberration of a brother—but he failed to understand that the reason we’ve been unable to penetrate the Lowerworld for so long is because our souls have become too dark for admittance. And mine, as I’m sure you know, is the darkest of all.” His eyes flare with pride. “Then again, it’s the pure blackness of my soul that led me to them—the solution.”

He nods toward the gathering of undead Richters—the entire lot of them yipping and yelping with excitement over the meal to come. Their enthusiasm causing Cade to shout, “Silence! Can’t you see that I’m talking? Sheesh!” Shaking his head and returning to me as he says, “So anyway, where were we?”

“Your dark and desolate soul.” I tap the bat against the back of my calf, prepared to use it at the first sign of trouble.

He nods again. “Little does Leandro know, but during last year’s Día de los Muertos, I brought them all back. And not just their essence. I actually raised them. They’re all Richters—resurrected Richters! I started by feeding them bits of animal souls. I’m telling you, there’s no shortage of worthless pets in this town.” He shakes his head, as though he can hardly believe the nuisance, the folly. “But then, over the last year, I’ve started feeding them human souls. Sometimes taking entire souls—sometimes just prying off little bits. It’s amazing how easy they are to obtain. Some people just hand ’em right over, they have no regard for their lives. Though most have no clue they’ve been taken, and even when they do suspect, they’re usually quick to convince themselves it was merely a nightmare.” His eyes fix on mine, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s referring to my own dream-turned-nightmare. “Anyway, for the record, I learned how to do it all on my own. Leandro refused to teach me the fine art of soul stealing—claimed I wasn’t ready, but I think I’ve proved otherwise.” He pauses as though awaiting my praise, and when it fails to appear, he says, “Oh, don’t look so sorry. It’s not like any of those people were using their souls for anything truly worthy or good. Our cause is much greater. And now, with you on board, it won’t be long before we rule the Middleworld, the Lowerworld, and ultimately the Upperworld too. My dad’s really gonna be proud of me then.” His eyes blaze at the idea, proving once again, he’s a psychopath. “Take off your mask and join me,” he says. “It’s time.”

I shake my head. I don’t take orders from him.

“Take off your ridiculous mask and put down that bat you think I can’t see. We’re a team now. We have to learn to trust each other if we’re going to work together, no?”

I tighten my grip, braced for just about anything. Watching as he shrugs and says, “Fine. Have it your way.” Then, nodding at the metal container, he adds, “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

I gaze at the orb, seeing the way it illuminates the room in a kaleidoscope of color—like a beautiful prism refracting the light.

“Do you see how much power it holds?” His eyes flare as though mesmerized by the sight of it, the thought of it. “Notice the way it shines brighter than all of those other souls you saw last time you were here?”

My fingers start to itch, my body fills with dread.