The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (31 page)

“Lucas!” I cried again, reaching for him as he jumped into the
boat.

His hands on my cheeks, he frantically searched my face for the slightest scratch. There was dirt on his. A moment later, his brows released the worry they held. Then he grabbed my shoulders and frowned.

“Zara, what were you doing?” he
asked.

“What was I doing?” I repeated, confused.

He stared at me incredulously, as if we spoke in different languages. “Why were you taking your hood
off?”

“I . . . I . . .” I stuttered, realizing with horror that I had no memory of doing
so.

He swooped me up and carried me to the end of the dock, where his family stood in a semicircle. As Lucas removed the cloak, I looked anxiously to my protectors. Dirt clung to Dylan’s clothes, and pine needles stuck out of his hair. There was a hole in Gabriella’s left sleeve, and her prized hair was tangled in knots. Niya and Malik lay on their bellies, tongues lolling as they panted. Dried blood ran down Tita’s nose and Valentina’s cheek, while Andrés had a fresh gash across his forehead that appeared to be resealing
itself.

Valentina stepped forward. “Are you
okay?”

I stumbled, more from fear of what I felt than what I saw. The desire I had warned Lucas about had nearly taken over, and now I was confused about how I felt safe with them too. I hadn’t expected that. I hardly noticed that Lucas had nuzzled close to me. His body was trembling.

Andrés looked at his watch. “Lucas, please take Zara home. You will need to move quickly to make it before her parents wake
up.”

“We’ll see you in a few hours at the airport,” Valentina said, gently rubbing my
arm.

I lifted my weak head from Lucas’s warm chest. “No, wait. What happened?”

“The executioners are on their way back to the Underworld. And Xavier . . .” Andrés sounded
unsure.

“That was too close,” Dylan
added.

“He’s getting stronger. I can feel it,” I blurted.

Their heads snapped to me, the pressure of royal eyes making me
timid.

“What do you mean?” Lucas was first to
ask.

I swallowed before I could speak. “It isn’t just the blacking out. It’s the connection. It’s controlling me in a way I can’t
resist.”

Andrés moved. “Tita, is there any way Xavier might gain power without
Zara?”

“No.”

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Lucas, take Zara home in my
car.”

When Lucas nodded, there was a sudden pressure against my back, pushing me toward the
car.

“Wait, I want to stay. What’s going to happen?” I protested.

“We wait for Xavier to return to the Underworld so that we can trap him down there,” Lucas answered, pressing his hand again against my resisting
back.

And so the plan began, slowly, secretly. My shivering was relentless, even with the heater blasting inside the black Mercedes-Benz. Lucas was entering the freeway by the time the warmth heated through my bones. It was a perfect, cloudless morning, but I couldn’t seem to breathe normally.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucas eyed me as he pulled up to my sleeping
house.

I looked up to my room on the second story. “Am I
safe?”

He followed my gaze and smiled slightly. “You are, yes.”

“So the executioners are out of time? They can’t come after me anymore?”

“Yes. But if we are breaking the treaty, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do
too.”

“What!?”

“Calm down. This is why you are coming with us to Mexico. We will protect you until everything is back to
normal.”

I rested my head on the seat and stared out the tinted window as a new problem abruptly formed. “So, how do you propose I get back in my room without anyone
seeing?”

His arrogant chuckle was comforting. “I would think you trusted me
more.”

“I do trust you,” I admitted, though it didn’t sound very convincing.

He hopped out, half snickering and half shaking his head, muttering something in Spanish. He stopped on the driveway under my window and waited. I stayed in the car, looking from him to the window and then to the front door, which I desperately wanted to
use.

“To get up there, you have to come to me,” he
joked.

“How are you so sure we won’t be seen?” I asked, moving slowly over the slippery driveway.

He sauntered forward, pulled me into his arms, and jumped. My eyes clamped shut as I tugged at his shirt for support, and then it was over. The air was suddenly warm. I opened the eye closest to the window first and looked around my room. Lucas put me down and took a step back as he ran his hand through his tangled
hair.

“Thank you,” I mouthed quietly. The clock read six o’clock, but I couldn’t be sure my parents were still sleeping.

All of a sudden, his face seemed strained.

“What’s wrong?” I
asked.

“We’re alone, in your room,” he stated, deep in thought.

The rush of the Solstice battle had left me too exhausted to deal with his problems.
Not after what I just went through.
Frustrated, I plopped down on the unmade bed and looked up at the ceiling. He stood there like a statue until I rolled my head over to
him.

“Are you going to do something about it?” I stabbed sarcastically.

His eyes finally blinked as he moved to the side of the bed and looked down. He was so close I could see his chest rise when he breathed in. My cheeks suddenly felt much warmer. I had again underestimated the power he had over me. I braced myself for the collision of his body against mine—I nearly imagined it, wanting it—but all he did was
sigh.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me. You don’t know me,” he
said.

“Because you won’t let
me.”

He paused a good three breaths, his eyes locked on mine. “I envy you . . .”

“For
what?”

“You live in the moment, no matter the consequence.”

“You should try it sometime,” I said, stretching my arms above my
head.

Lucas took another big breath. This time his shirt pulled tightly over his chest, and the roundness of his pecs peered through. “It’s impossible. I fear the consequence too
much.”

“I have a friend who’s allergic to sugar. Literally. His throat starts to itch when he eats too many sweets. Does that mean he never eats candy? No. In fact, he eats it until his stomach hurts and he can’t take any
more.”

“Sounds like an
idiot.”

“Sounds like someone who’s living life. He chooses to be gratified now and deal with the consequences
later.”

Lucas shook his head and laughed mockingly. “If only my consequence was an upset stomach.”

“What does it matter what the consequences are? What’s wrong is wrong; the consequences don’t change it to a lesser degree. If you’re going to choose your actions based on consequences, you don’t know who you are. If you’re going to do something because you want to, no matter what the consequences, then I reckon you know who you are and what you
want.”

“I’ve been alive for more than twenty generations’ worth of your ancestors, and you think I don’t know what I want? And who ever said you were wrong? What if I thought you were
right?”

I gulped. “If I was
wrong
for you, what are the consequences if I say ‘yes, you don’t know what you want’?” It was rude, but it was the truth, and I needed to pronounce it slowly and clearly. “Y-e-s. You don’t know what you want, whether I’m wrong or right for
you.”

The glare of his eyes hardened, and his Adam’s apple moved slowly downward, and then he took a step back. “You’d better get some rest; we’ve got a long trip coming,” he said, expressionless.

I propped myself up on my elbows. “But—”

“We’re done talking about you and me. I don’t care what the stupid prophecy says. I care about you, and me—with you—is a cause with too many consequences.”

“Like
what?”

“First, I could hurt
you.”

I rolled my eyes, remembering all the times a boy had broken up with me. “I’m stronger than you
think.”

“I’m not talking about me breaking up with you; I’m talking physically. If you haven’t noticed, I’m much stronger than you. I can hurt you . . . badly.”

“Oh . . .”

“I haven’t been with a human since I’ve changed, so I really don’t know how hard . . . okay, I’m not talking about this anymore.”

I threw my hands in the air. “You started
it.”

“And another reason, of course, is that I don’t age.” He stepped sideways, pulling at his hair, then rested his fists atop his skull in the mess. The crooks of his arms blocked portions of his face, but I could see enough of the pain creasing his face. “It makes me
sick.”

“That I’ll get ugly and wrinkly?” My heart nearly stopped. In one swift step he was at my side, his hands reaching for mine, but then he stuffed them in his pockets instead.

“Hell no,” he said. He sounded upset that I would even suggest it. My heart continued to pump at its normal pace. “It makes me sick that
I
could never grow old and wrinkly. Nobody should be immortal. It’s unnatural. Couples belong together in all their forms, and they should change together too. I could never give that to
you.”

“And?”

“And
what?”

“What else? What else is stopping you from doing what you really
want?”

He glanced at the corner of my room. “You don’t want to
know.”

“Try
me.”

We heard footsteps a few doors down and fell silent, waiting to see if they would approach. When they didn’t, Lucas took a step toward the
window.

“It would be wise to rest before the flight,” he whispered.

“But I thought the flight wasn’t that
long.”

“It’s not. It’s the other part that’s going to be long. All this time we’ve talked about the Underworld, but there is a whole other world you’ve yet to learn
about.”

“Which world is
that?”

His gentle lips crinkled upward. “Mine.”

I imagined he heard the galumph in my heart and thus gave me a moment to breathe before he said, seriously, “I’ll be here at two thirty to pick you
up.”

“You’re leaving me alone?” I started to
panic.

“Dylan and Gabriella are tracking them. And I shouldn’t be here in your room, alone.”

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for more excuses as he lingered, but none came. He looked around the room, resisting, his fists balled in his pockets. It should have been me feeling embarrassed, the way my room looked like a pigsty, but I didn’t care. I stared him down.
Just do it
, I thought.

“I need to clean myself up,” he finally coughed, now looking outright uncomfortable. Avoiding eye contact, he hurriedly crossed to the windowsill. “I’ll see you
soon.”

He escaped out the window before I could speak another
word.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Playa de Castillo

I shut the window and drew the drapes, suddenly drowsy now that my body had thawed in the heat of the house. There were clusters of clothes and shoes on the floor that belonged in my suitcase, but I could rest for a while. Lucas wouldn’t be here for six more
hours.

The alarm woke me at two o’clock. I wiped drool off my cheek and went to the bathroom to splash cold water over my face, hoping it would ease the pounding in my head. I was running a brush through my hair robotically when I heard familiar cackling downstairs. I flew down the steps and stopped at the bottom, clutching the railing.

“You’re home,” I
said.

The twins turned with mouths full of Pop
Tarts.

“Case and I got done earlier than we thought, thanks to our new professor, who let us off the hook,” Max said cockishly.

“What professor? What
hook?”

“Whoa there, sis. We can’t tell you
all
our college secrets. And besides, what kind of question is
that?”

I shook my head at the idiot. “It’s no secret, you
moron.”

“Nice to see you too,” Casey added. He sounded annoyed.

I realized that they didn’t remember. It was Dylan who had made them forget. I left them and went back to my room. I flipped on the TV, paranoid about anyone noticing last night’s peculiar stormy weather. But it soon became background noise as I threw anything that might be of use in a hot climate into my suitcase.

“Mom, hurry please. Lucas will be here soon,” I hollered as I tossed in a pair of gladiator sandals.

I frantically smoothed out the wrinkles in the bedspread and then ravaged it again to find anything left behind. I had picked up a gray tank when a word struck me like lightning. I dropped the shirt and spun to the
TV.

“Government officials are leaning toward the conclusion that this was a freak storm. However, given the unusual size of the electromagnetic field that accompanied the storm, NOAA scientists will be running tests and observing over the next two weeks,” the weatherman
said.

I sighed and flipped the TV off. I picked the shirt up again and moved it to the suitcase.

“Forgetting something?”

I about-faced, and my stomach dropped at the sight of him. Lucas was leaning back in my desk chair, his feet rested atop my homework, dangling my bikini top on one finger. The twigs were gone from his hair, and his face had been freshly shaven, revealing the smoothness of his ageless skin. His grin was fluid this morning, the flirty kind that made my breath skid and eyes flutter. I snatched the green polka-dot bikini away from
him.

“How’d you get in here?” I whispered worriedly as I stuffed the suit into the outside pocket of the suitcase.

“You really should lock your
window.”

When I realized he wasn’t going to leave, anxiety took over. “The storm is on the news right
now.”

“I
know.”

“You’re not worried that anyone saw something?” Just saying it let the panic loose, and my breathing quickened.

He raised his eyebrows. “Are
you?”

“Yes!”

Lucas stood. “No one saw anything, so you can stop worrying about it. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

He kissed me on the cheek and then vanished out the window. Half a second later, the bells on the front door jingled as he entered.

“Mom, Dad, we have to go right now. Remember, the airport’s in Reno!” I
yelled.

I pulled my phone off my nightstand and began flipping through it as I reached for the suitcase on the bed, but my hand swung through empty space and I stumbled against the mattress.
Lucas!

Downstairs, the barefaced prince sat on the living room couch next to Max. Casey faced them, leaning against the wall. There was an awkward silence when I entered, as if I’d interrupted a conversation about myself. The twins glanced at me, and I realized suddenly just how much they despised
him.

“I was just telling Lucas that if anything happens to you while you’re gone, he’s going to have us to come home to,” Max
said.

Lucas held back a faint smile. I gave him a scornful
look.

Casey stepped away from the wall. “Zara, just because you’re going to be in Mexico hobnobbing doesn’t mean you won’t have a curfew,” he announced flagrantly.

“Dad didn’t tell you?” I asked, confused.

“Tell us what?” they both
said.

“Boys, stop heckling your sister,” Dad said. He wrestled a heavy suitcase down the stairs and set it near his feet. “I would have told you earlier, but you didn’t exactly come
home
last night. The Castillos have been so kind as to invite you to their home for Christmas. Now, go get your suitcases, we leave for the airport in five. ”

Max and Casey shot Dad a surprised look, then glanced at each other in utter shock. Then their annoying cackles filled the
room.

“See, Case, this is how we roll!” Max said, and they chortled as they disappeared to their
rooms.

I imagined them like this the entire trip and cringed.
As long as they’re safe
, I reminded
myself.

Once Dad was back upstairs, Lucas effortlessly lifted his giant suitcase in one hand. It swayed gently back and forth, as if it was full of feathers, as he carried it to the door. I followed him outside, where the silvery air spun with bitterly cold sweetness. I shivered, wondering if I’d ever be back at all. When I glanced back to the one thing keeping me safe, I realized how odd it was that he wore shorts and flip-flops and never shivered. I checked for goose bumps, but his skin was smooth as polished
stone.

“Seriously?” I said, shivering even in the sheepskin lining of my bomber
jacket.

“What?”

“Could you be any more obvious? Shorts in the
winter?”

“We’re going to the beach. And besides, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you
have.”

We passed the sidewalk bend and approached a new black Escalade parked on the driveway. I stopped, but Lucas kept walking.

“Whose car is this?” I
gasped.

He popped the hatch and leaned back so that it wouldn’t clip him as it opened. “Mine.”

“Since
when?”

“Today.”

“You bought a car just to take us to the airport?” I asked, perplexed.

He laughed. “No, I bought a new car because my window got crushed,” he reminded
me.

“Most normal people would have just bought a new
window.”

He chucked Dad’s suitcase into the back and smiled. “You’re probably right, but I don’t place myself in that category.”

I was silent when he tossed the keys at me. “I’m going to get the rest of the suitcases.”

The car-lot sticker was still attached to the front window. I peeled it off, bunched it into a ball, and buried it underneath my seat.
So
I can see better,
I told myself,
in case anything dead tries to fly at me again
. Just as the seat warmed, Max and Casey walked out empty-handed. Lucas must have insisted on carrying their suitcases. The twins were still enthusing about their fortunate turn of events as they slid into the seat behind me. Max wrapped his arm around my
chair.

“Zara, isn’t this going to be so
fun?”

“Plenty,” I moaned, turning to watch the front
door.

The snow fell heavily as Lucas walked out with two suitcases in each hand, my parents behind him. Lucas loaded the car as Mom and Dad climbed into the open seats and shivered. When Lucas got in, he just wiped his wet hands on his jean shorts and ran them through his hair to pull it back up, no sign of a
shiver.

Halfway there, I turned around to Dad. There was slight discomfort on his face as Lucas revved the engine that had only intensified as we barreled through the fresh snow. I turned back around to look anywhere but at his fright. It only reminded me of the fear I carried within, and the real reason why we were going on this
trip.

Minutes later Lucas pulled into the valet stand. I didn’t even know airports had valet parking. The uniformed man at the curb called Lucas by name as another opened my door. Lucas gave him a thick wad of folded bills and moved to my side. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, then gave orders to the other valets who had appeared out of nowhere.

“My family is waiting inside,” Lucas announced three dollies
later.

There were festive songs playing in the decorated terminal, a careful attempt at merriment, but on the ground it was anxious chaos as travelers rushed to their gates. I panicked, picturing an executioner swooping through the crush. Lucas’s fingers tightened around mine almost before the thought had formed, as if he was reading my emotions, and then he led us through the
masses.

Heads turned from all directions toward Lucas. I thought it was just Lucas’s ridiculous beach attire, but then I spotted Andrés and the others, and I realized that all eyes were pulled toward the royal immortals. Together, they were alluring.

Max and Casey didn’t blink when Lucas greeted Gabriella with a kiss on the
cheek.

“Max, Casey, this is my sister Gabriella,” he
said.

Gabriella smiled as she leaned in and kissed their cheekbones. Her tight shirt exposed a lot of cleavage, but the button-up shirt skimming over it made her look tasteful. I imagined a piece of stone guffawing. That’s how the twins looked.
Ridiculous.

“Nice to meet you, boys. This is my husband, Dylan,” she said, tugging slightly on Dylan’s
arm.

The twins seemed reluctant to look at Dylan. I could see Lucas laughing silently out of the corner of my eye as Dylan stepped forward in his fedora and shook their
hands.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he
said.

For the first time in my life, the twins were speechless.

“I have a twin too,” Dylan interjected, searching for something to break the awkward silence. “He’s not as cool as you, though.”

Max and Casey’s paralysis finally broke into shaking laughter.

“He’s okay sometimes,” Max said with a shrug at his brother.

I sat in the aisle next to Lucas for all three hours of our first flight, eating bag after bag of pretzels out of
nerves.

“Would you like me to buy you a meal?” Lucas
asked.

“No way, plane meals are disgusting.”

“Have you ever
had
a plane
meal?”

“As a matter of fact I have. Once. I can’t do it again,” I said, putting pressure on my upset stomach.

“Very
well.”

Each time the attendant offered us another bag of pretzels, Lucas graciously accepted and handed his over to me right away. My appetite returned in full force by the time we reached our layover in Houston, and my stomach was making all sorts of
noises.

“Eat something now,” Lucas said as we exited the plane. “They won’t offer any meals on our next flight since it’s only two
hours.”

He looked around at a few places in the terminal and then finally pointed to a restaurant with a display of different cheeses. “There. They have great mac and
cheese.”

“You like mac and cheese?”
Finally, something we can agree
on
.

“Who doesn’t like cheese?” he
asked.

I smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

By the time we arrived in Merida at midnight and got through customs, my starving state had returned. I had heard about street tacos in Mexico, and I wished we could stop and try some, but Andrés and Valentina insisted we wait to eat at their house, a place off the beach twenty minutes
away.

The airport there was just as small as ours, but when I walked off the plane into the air-conditioned room, I felt a smudge of unfamiliar humidity. When I caught my reflection in the windows we passed along a wall, I realized that my hair had already gone all Medusa. Lucas looked past my frizzy hair and met my eyes in the glass, unable to contain a sort of anticipation. Then his hand rubbed the small of my back. I smiled, but wondered what it meant as we moved to the baggage
claim.

Two men dressed in short-sleeved, collared blue shirts piled our luggage onto small trolley carts and followed us outside. They were short and had to sway from side to side to see around the piles of luggage. As we passed through the automated doors, the thickness of the warm night air clogged my lungs, and I grabbed my throat in despair. I felt suddenly sticky underneath my coat. I slumped it off and swung it over my
arm.

“Are you okay?” Lucas
asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. I inhaled again and found the air wet but breathable. I didn’t like
it.

We walked past the taxi line and stopped at the curb, where five short chauffeurs stood under a dim streetlamp, holding papers bearing our names. Behind them were long white sedans that looked like they belonged on an English manor, not on the beach. I had already connected rich gods to expensive, foreign cars, but Max and Casey flipped
out.

“No way!” Casey screamed.

“Maybach Landaulets?” Max asked giddily.

“What’s that?” I
asked.

They laughed at me and turned to Lucas, who looked outright
guilty.

“What?” I asked
again.

“They have suicide doors,” Max
added.

“What?”

Before I could object, Andrés turned to my parents.

“Valentina and I will take the first car. Mitch and Lori, you take the next. Max and Casey, you have your own car, as do Lucas and Zara. Dylan and Gabriella, you will follow,” he arranged
firmly.

“That is very nice of you, but we can take a cab. It’s more practical,” Dad said bravely when no one spoke
up.

“Mr. Moss, you are my guest, and it is my pleasure to welcome you as I would my own family. If you took a cab, I would be offended. Now, not another word, please. I believe your daughter is starving.”

Dad shot me a puzzled look. I shrugged innocently as my stomach grumbled. Dad finally nodded, and as Andrés and Valentina entered their car, I leaned against Dad and whispered into his
ear.

“What bothers you more? The fact that he’s rich or that he doesn’t have gray hair?” I realized as I said it that I’d never asked Lucas how they really were so
rich.