The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1) (12 page)

Jaguar’s next attack lacked finesse—instead he plowed forward, channeling his rage.

“You know, I believe I’ll punish Jaguar myself. He shouldn’t have touched you. Watch what I’m capable of, Echo.” Coyote pulled forth a small clay tablet.

The clay matched the necklaces my mother and I wore. Certainty filled me. “That’s why you took my mom.”

Coyote’s mustache flipping upward—a bristly lip against my cheek. “One of the reasons. She had the tablet, and I wanted it.”

“My mother is a guardian,” I whispered.

“Indeed.” His tone was light, mocking.

“You can’t use it,” I said, outraged. “It was designed to protect humans.”

“I don’t want to keep it. I want to keep it out of others’ hands so they can’t rig the oncoming reckoning.”

“You’re supposed to help humans,” I said. I tried to fan that place in my head, but the flame flickered weakly.

“Oh, I do. I help them decide which battles are worth fighting. Exciting, isn’t it?” Coyote asked. “Magic and blood. I’ve always enjoyed war. The sex after is unlike any other.”

“You—you coward!” My scowl was fierce, full of disdain. I bucked and struggled against him once again. “You’re afraid to fight your own battles.”

Coyote’s eyes flared with violent heat. He spoke a simple chant. From the corner of my eye, I saw Zeke falter, blood pouring from his right calf. I screamed in outrage as Jaguar slammed his fist into the side of Zeke’s head. Zeke collapsed.

Jaguar rushed toward us, yanking me from Coyote’s grasp. Being treated like their toy was getting old fast. Jaguar’s spear at Coyote’s throat wasn’t helping my situation.

Coyote swatted the spear aside, but Jaguar stepped in and pressed it more firmly to Coyote’s eye. The god hissed.

“Move and I’ll shove it in.”

“You’re going to stab me anyway,” Coyote said, his voice reasonable. “But you forget—you can’t kill me.”

Implicit in that statement was that Coyote would find and kill Jaguar. A glimmer of hope burned inside me. If they were fighting, then I might be able to escape.

“She’s mine,” Coyote growled. “Sotuk can guard her with an army of hundreds and it changes nothing. I’ve claimed her.”

“But she hasn’t chosen you,” Jaguar growled.

And I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t choose either of them no matter what they did to me.

Fight him, I silently urged Coyote. Aim for his jugular. I closed my eyes. The kachina stood still.

I wish I knew how to mentally communicate with Zeke or my spirits. I gripped my necklace. I needed Zeke awake—there was no way I was leaving him here, unconscious.

How could I ask my spirits to wake him?

You just did.

Relief weakened my knees at Zeke’s voice. Jaguar’s palm pushed against the small of my back, forcing my hips forward to grind against his. I would’ve gritted my teeth except his mouth was on mine, his tongue thrust deep. His fangs raked across my tongue and blood bubbled up, choking me.

Coyote growled next to us, pulling Jaguar’s face from mine. “Remove the spear, kachina. Zeke is the problem standing in your way, not I. She yearns for him, but she will not fight so hard once he is dead.”

Jaguar jabbed the spear deeper into Coyote’s flesh. The god exhaled sharply, his pain palpable. My stomach heaved.

Jaguar stepped back, his gaze intent on Zeke’s prone form. “Point.”

My heart rate tripled and my magic bloomed across my skin, flinging itself outward. I had no idea what it was doing, but it seemed almost sentient, definitely more capable than I was with Jaguar’s hands squeezing my body, his hot breath bathing my skin.

My amulet swayed between my shirt and chest. The spirits. Please help me get out of here. I have to get Zeke. I can’t leave without him.

Lightening bloomed, a distinctive violet shining across the velvet blackness, before burning white and sizzling with energy as it hissed into the ground nearby.

Coyote looked up at the sky for a moment, sniffing the wind as he raised a spear I hadn’t seen him holding. It was long, like Zeke’s, but had a metal shaft. With casual grace, he slammed it into Jaguar’s chest.

J
aguar gasped
and his legs crumpled under his weight. He slid to the ground. I fell, landing hard on my hands and knees. Jaguar’s weight toppled forward, landing on me, pinning me under him.

I bucked, trying to shove him off, my breath coming in hysterical pants. I shoved again, harder, and the kachina rolled off. His eyes met mine, the light fading from the umber irises. He opened his mouth, but only blood trickled from his paling lips.

I shot to my feet and stumbled back, away from Coyote and Jaguar’s corpse. Jaguar’s soul, a bright yellow essence, formed above his dead body.

I gulped, trying to fill my greedy lungs, my fingernails ripping at my slicked sleeves.

Coyote growled as he grabbed Jaguar’s soul by his arm. “You will not reenter your body. I bid you back to the First World.”

Jaguar’s soul glowed, his eyes burning brighter. “You cannot. You don’t control the spirits.”

Coyote bristled, his body growing. “Of course I do.”

Jaguar’s soul laughed. It was a grating sound—that of an untuned violin. He pointed at me. “She does.”

Coyote turned to glare at me. Holy hell. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Watch yourself, mongrel,” Coyote growled, growing steadily taller. “Your mother overstepped me and she languishes for her choices. The gods do not like usurpers.”

“I didn’t ask for power over the spirits,” I snapped, my voice hard, nearly vicious. “I just want my mom back.”

Zeke stepped in front of me, his weapons drawn. A large, purple bruise had blossomed across his temple. He looked nearly as much a monster as the god towering above us.

“And to keep our powers,” Zeke added.

I would’ve told them both I was more than willing to trade my powers for my mom’s safe return, but my necklace heated past the point I could stand. I gasped, leaning forward so the necklace fell away from my burned skin. I wouldn’t give it up, then. Point taken.

“You ask for too much,” Coyote growled.

“We seek balance,” Zeke replied. “As Sotuk assigned us.”

He did? We did? Helluva time to find that out.

Coyote reached forward, but Zeke slashed at the god’s hand, drawing a thick silver substance. Ch’ich, godly blood, dripped from the deep gash. Coyote backpedaled.

“I’ve told you before, you don’t hurt her,” Zeke said.

I moved out from behind Zeke, jaw clamped tight against my fear, refusing to cower. I might not be as strong as the males here, but I wasn’t some object they could pass around. Coyote lunged for me again, but he stopped short, baying.

My eyes widened when I saw the deep gash on his thigh. Ch’ich poured from that wound. Coyote’s hand shook as he held the sacred clay tablet.

“I’ll kill you, bastard child,” Coyote screamed.

“I’m no bastard.” My voice was firm, filled with certainty.

Coyote raised the tablet. He spoke a word and my swirling spirits broke apart with a last mournful cry. I staggered back, shocked and exposed. Coyote spoke another word and the ground beneath us heaved.

“You have no right to use that against its people,” Zeke shouted.

“I don’t,” Coyote said, his lips curling up in an ugly smile. “I use it against you halflings.”

Large chunks of rock, nearly as tall as me, tumbled from the cliffs to our left. I cringed, braced for the sudden slam of heavy granite that would knock me off my feet.

Instead, the rocks turned to fine dust that coated my skin and hair. No trace of the boulders remained.

“Not going to work, Coyote. I am Earth,” Zeke said.

Coyote bared his teeth, looking more canine than human. “The girl hasn’t your control. Let’s see how she handles the elements.”

The pond behind us gurgled and water streamed across my shoes. My toes numbed and my breathing escalated.

“Um,” I mumbled.

Coyote spun his spear as the water rose to our knees. My teeth chattered as I sloshed backward, losing my balance. The water slammed into the back of my knees and I fell forward, face submerged. Opening my mouth to scream, I choked, the water filling my nose, my lungs.

The spirits surrounded me, adding to my chill.

You are Water
. The words repeated, a chant, a prayer, through my head. The myriad voices were soft, like Honani’s. My spirits, they were telling me. Trying to help me.

I was scared shitless and about to drown.

Do not fear your Element. Work with it
. Their voices grew, trying to push me to do . . . something.

No idea how to do that, buddy
. I grasped Honani’s spectral form and shoved my feet toward where the ground had been.

As soon as my feet touched the earth, I stood, gasping and sputtering. Tears mixed with the water dripping down my cheeks, and I coughed out mouthfuls of water.

Coyote’s spear was a blur of movement as he slammed it against Zeke’s. I pressed my shaking hands to my knees and drew in a deep, much-needed breath.

You are Water
. Honani was belligerent.

“Apparently not,” I gasped. “I nearly drowned.”

You must work with it. Show it where to go, how to move.

Nuh-uh. I wanted to get as far away from the freezing liquid as possible.

Zeke pivoted in closer. He stood on dry land thanks to his Earthness—and slammed his sword into Coyote’s shin. The god blocked the thrust, barely, and fell back. I waded from the water just as Coyote slammed his spear’s shaft into Zeke’s side.

Zeke flew backward, toward the cliff, away from me. Hitting the wall would kill him.

The water rose in a thick rush, higher than a four-story building. Zeke slammed into the wave, disappearing into the murky liquid. He rose quickly, blinking water from his eyes, spear and sword poised for another attack.

See? You are Water.

“But I don’t know how I did that,” I muttered.

Definitely magic
. Honani’s voice was smug. I barely restrained the urge to flip him off.

As the water collapsed, most of it drained back to the pond. I ran across the slick, muddy ground and helped Zeke stand. Coyote roared his triumph as he pressed his spearhead against my chest.

A slight figure slid from the cracks between the rocks and turned her pale, slanted eyes toward me. The light color was a startling contrast with her tanned face framed by thick, black hair. She had no pupils. Just pale, pearlescent gray orbs. Still, her gaze was assessing.

I’d seen those eyes earlier, in Zeke’s yard.

“Zeke, your tiny halfling nearly drowned in her own element. Good thing I showed up in time to save you.”

Her voice chilled me. While soft, it reminded me of the depths of a snow bank—pristine white on the outside but treacherous once within. My burgeoning confidence deflated faster than a popped balloon.

“Leave us, Shakola,” Coyote snarled. “You have no business here.”

The woman turned her cold, blank eyes toward Coyote. “I must disagree.”

“We have an—”

“You must leave,” the goddess said to Zeke, not bothering to look at me. I stiffened at her insult.

A harsh, cold rain pelted against my skin, burning wherever it touched. Zeke grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Coyote. I wasn’t leaving without the tablet. Coyote couldn’t keep it. The power it held only made him hungrier for more.

And I had an idea.

I yanked myself free of Zeke’s grasp. Worry flashed through his dark eyes as Coyote moved forward with a sinuous grace.

“I need to—talk—to Coyote,” I said.

Coyote laughed. Yes, he was still hypnotizing. Looking at him was a physical pain; the need to go to him was so great. Instead, I focused on Sotuk’s relic.

“Of course, my darling,” he purred. “I’ll give you anything.”

I stepped forward. Zeke’s hurt leaked from him, gripping at my heart. There was no way for me to tell him why I moved back toward the god. He’d understand once we got out of here, I hoped.

Leaning in, I looked at Coyote from under my lashes. “See, it’s just that you have something I want.”

“Of course, my darling.” He bent forward, his hand ready to curl around my waist. I sidestepped his arm and managed to knock the tablet from his other hand.

Ha! No one ever thinks to protect themselves from a tiny girl.

The small piece of clay—no bigger than a standard sheet of paper—somersaulted through the air. I pushed as hard as I could off Coyote’s bleeding leg, using my momentum to launch my body upward, my entire focus on the tablet.

My fingers closed around the edge. It was wet from the rain now pounding us, and it slipped in my hands. I managed to keep my hold as I stumbled forward, landing hard on my knees for a second time. Pain bloomed there, but I scrambled upward, cradling the tablet to my chest.

Warmth slithered through my body, enveloping me in a delicate layer of heat that slid into my blood stream. For a moment, the heat felt like a welcoming embrace. Like the tablet knew me. Wanted me.

Good. I wanted it, too.

Shakola’s eyes blazed nearly white against her tanned face. “You’re much more trouble than I expected.”

“I remember. You don’t see the appeal.”

“I should kill you right now,” she hissed.

I leaned forward. “Good luck with that. My power’s concentrated. I may be small but I’m mighty.”

My shoulder brushed hers—hard—as I pivoted back toward Zeke, catching a brief glimpse of his raised brows and small smile.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Zeke grasped my free hand and pulled me forward.

Another lick of heat drifted over my skin, and the tablet felt hotter than my mom’s red chile sauce. I clutched it, trying to breathe through the building discomfort. Whoever said that was possible was an idiot. I couldn’t do anything but run and try to shake the horror of the building pain. My skin looked normal, smooth even. But it felt like millions of fire ants were biting my skin.

Zeke tugged my hand, and I struggled forward. My skin had to be peeling away from the heat. My lungs hurt. With a yelped curse, Zeke dropped my hand but stayed close, shepherding me toward the pond. Did he want me to go in? He reached for my hand again, probably to transport me back home, but my skin was too hot to touch.

Coyote’s heavy stride pounded behind us. His stride was three times as long as mine. He’d reach us momentarily. We needed more distance. Now.

We pounded across the terrain, and I cupped the cut on my neck with my free hand, trying to ease the pain each step caused.

“Coyote’s not going to let us leave with that,” Zeke panted as we cut away from Coyote’s much longer strides. “Shakola can’t fight Coyote. She doesn’t have that type of power.”

“Correction. She won’t help me.”

“Not the time, Echo,” Zeke said.

How did I end up in all these impossible-odds moments? The spirits better be listening and gearing up to help—my legs weren’t even three feet long, and the god behind me was, like, four times my height. That math didn’t add up to an Echo-win.

When Coyote’s foot missed me by millimeters, I squealed and veered to the left. Zeke ignored the heat pouring off me and gripped my elbow, but he wasn’t able to stop his hiss of pain. Try literally
being
that hot, buddy.

A rock dug deep into my ankle and I stumbled. Zeke’s fingers slid down and wrapped around my wrist, tugging me forward, hard. I gritted my teeth as another rock ripped into my ankle.

“Hand over the tablet, darling,” Coyote called. “We can discuss the return of your mother.”

Got you
.

I clutched the tablet tighter and somehow managed to keep up with Zeke’s much longer stride as he bolted away from the cactus.

“Give me my mom first, dog,” I shouted.

Coyote’s hot breath hit my back. I didn’t need to hear him to know he was seriously pissed—and very, very focused on his goal of getting back the tablet and ripping me apart.

“Leave now, Zeke,” Shakola squealed as lightning slammed into the ground just in front of Coyote’s nose, causing him to stumble. He hit the ground with a roar.

“I’ve never tried this while running,” Zeke said. “Don’t let go, no matter what.”

Indignant anger built in my chest. No way he thought I let go last time. I was tackled by a god! I had the bruises on my back to prove it.

Not the time to argue, though. I was so focused on holding onto Zeke’s hand and the tablet, I realized too late I’d quit paying attention to where I was going. The grit shifted under my sore ankle. I picked my leg up too soon and hurtled forward. I tried to right myself but failed.

My hand started to slip from Zeke’s. I caught a glint of Coyote’s spear, just as I shoved my hand back into Zeke’s harder than I’d intended. He grunted and lost his footing and we began to tumble—the ground rising to meet us at a sickening rate.