Echo (The Soul Seekers 2)

I rest my chin on Dace’s shoulder, picking up where I left off. “Not to mention there’s no sign of a sun—so how’s it even possible? How can it rise and set when it doesn’t exist?”

Dace laughs in response, the

sound throaty, deep, and so alluring I inch my body closer until it’s pressed hard against his. Determined to conform to every valley and curve of his back, wanting him to be as aware of me as I am of him.

“Oh, there’s a sun.” He cricks his neck until he’s looking at me. “Leftfoot’s seen it.” His icy-blue eyes capture mine, reflecting my long dark hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin until I look away, dizzy with the sight of it.

“And you believe him?” I frown, unable to keep the skepticism from creeping into my voice. Convinced it’s yet another of the old medicine man’s fantastical tales he told Dace as a kid.

“Of course.” Dace shrugs. “And if we’re lucky, maybe someday we’ll see it too.”

I rub my lips together and slip a hand under the hem of his sweater. My fingers are chilly, his flesh is warm, and yet he doesn’t so much as flinch. Rather he welcomes my touch by urging my palm flat against him.

“The only thing I want to see now is…” I try to push my mind back to the job we’ve set out to do, but it’s not long before the thought fades along with my words.

The lure of Dace is too strong, and he must sense my mood because the next thing I know, he’s turning Horse around. Nudging him back over the wide, grassy slope, heading toward a favored destination of ours.

I tighten my hold on his waist, tuck my knees into the crook of his. Struggling against the barrage of guilt that always overwhelms me after a long, fruitless hunt. I promised Paloma I’d find them—evict them. Swore I’d run those Richters right out of the Lowerworld before they had a chance to do any damage that would impact the Middle- and Upperworlds too.

I thought it would be easy.

Thought that in a wondrous land of lush foliage and loving spirit animals, those undead freaks would stand out in the very worst way.

Convinced that with Dace and me working in tandem, we’d easily defeat them.

But now I’m no longer sure.

“Not to worry,” Dace says, his voice as confident as his words. “Together we’ll find them.” Then, meeting my skeptical look, he adds, “Haven’t you heard? Love conquers all.”

Love.

My breath stills, my eyes widen, while any attempt at reply stalls in a throat gone suddenly dry.

He drags on Horse’s reins, stopping just shy of the Enchanted Spring, where he helps me to my feet and folds my hands in his. Misreading my silence, he says, “Too soon?”

I clear my throat, longing to tell him that it’s not at all too soon. That I knew it the first night he appeared in my dreams—felt it the day I ran into him at the Rabbit Hole—the stream of unconditional love that flowed between us.

Wishing I could just say it—confess how it both terrifies and excites me. How being loved, truly loved, by him is the most exhilarating thing that’s ever happened to me.

Longing to explain how whenever I’m with him, it’s as though I’m filled with helium—my feet don’t quite touch the earth.

We’re destined.

Fated.

But now, after weeks of being his girlfriend, this is the very first time the L word was mentioned.

Dace cocks his head, shooting me a look so dreamy, I’m sure he’s going to say it—those three not-so little words—and I ready myself to utter them too.

But he just turns on his heel and heads for the bubbling hot spring with the fine mist of steam dancing along the surface. Leaving me disappointed that the moment was lost—yet secure in its truth all the same.

We rid ourselves of our clothes until Dace is stripped down to his navy blue trunks, and I’m shivering in the plain black bikini I wear underneath. Merging into the water with Dace just behind me, my heart racing in anticipation as I head for the wide bank of rocks, knowing the hunt is now over—the fun will begin.

I smile shyly. Captured by the sight of his strong, square shoulders, gleaming brown skin, the promise of his hands hanging open and loose by his sides. Wondering if I’ll ever get used to this—used to him. So many kisses have passed between us, and yet whenever he’s near, whenever we’re alone, it feels like the first.

He moves in beside me, the water rising to his chest as our lips press and merge and our breath becomes one. My fingers seeking the sharp angle of his jaw, tracing the shadow of stubble that prickles my skin, as he toys with the strings of my bikini top. Taking great care to avoid the buckskin pouch that hangs from my neck, knowing it holds the source of my power, or one of them anyway—that its contents may only be viewed by Paloma and me.

“Daire…” My name is a whisper soon chased by the path of kisses he trails along my neck, over my shoulder, and down farther still, as I close my eyes and inhale a sharp breath. Torn between the lure of his touch, and the memory of a horrible dream that took place in this very spring—in a moment much like this one.