The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (33 page)

When he shut the door behind him, I hurriedly unpacked my belongings into the huge closet and dresser and moved to the bathroom. Its size was ridiculous. It reminded me of a honeymoon suite on TV. The same white-and-gray marble covered every horizontal surface, and turquoise crystals hung from a chandelier above, creating endless illusions in the mirrored walls. A beautiful Aztec mural of glass tile embellished the doorless walk-in shower, and the toilet had a nicely decorated room of its own that smelled like gardenia. Black feathers had been embroidered on the small jade towels that sat next to the sink. I looked in the
mirror.

Clearly, the humidity had gotten the best of me. I changed into a loose dress, but it was pointless: it stuck to me in a few strides. I tried taming my wavy frizz with some hair product Bri had lent me, but I quickly accepted the fact that my hair wasn’t cut out for this kind of weather, and I braided it before I got more
upset.

When I stepped out of my room, Lucas was leaning against the banister, looking at the top of the Christmas tree, which twinkled just a few feet from him. When he turned to me, there was a light in his eyes that matched his new smile, and the chambers of my heart swelled.

He led me to the first floor, following the rich aroma of chili and beans. My stomach grumbled when we entered the kitchen. Marifer and a short man were standing at the stove. Every now and then, Marifer threw ingredients into a large pot, and the man stirred it, releasing that wonderful smell. She smiled at us as we crossed the kitchen and passed through another
door.

We arrived in a formal dining room. Three of the walls were floor-to-ceiling windows. The light spilling through them revealed palm trees just outside, and I wondered what view lay out there in the dark. A large, rustic chandelier, mostly iron but with some crystal, hung above a large table set for sixteen. Our families were already seated at the far end of the table when we arrived.

Andrés stood, holding a crystal goblet. “Welcome to our home. We are happy you have chosen to share the holidays with us. Valentina and I couldn’t be happier. Now, it’s been a long day of traveling, and there is plenty of food, so please, eat
up.”

I sighed, exhausted, and pushed Xavier to the back of my mind, pretending he didn’t exist. Lucas smiled—it was different again, tender, maybe. Not as stiff or restrained as it was in Tahoe. Hungry, even. I wondered what he was thinking as I took a bite from the salsa-covered plate now in front of me. New flavors burst inside my mouth, and my thoughts stopped, aware only of the explosion in my mouth. I took in another forkful. It was splendid. Each bite was full of spices, and it filled my stomach to the maximum capacity as pleasurably as possible.

When my plate was clean and my stomach so full it hurt, I set down my fork. Everyone else seemed to be engaged in quiet small talk. I stood
up.

“Excuse me, everyone. I’m about to fall asleep at the table. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed
now.”

My parents said good night, Max and Casey ignored me as they devoured an inappropriate amount of food, and the Castillos smiled. I could feel Lucas’s eyes following me as I left the room, and I imagined I felt them even as I closed the door of my borrowed
room.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mulac

To my mind, an overnight stay at a king’s estate, built on a beach in the Caribbean, should be exquisite: from the moment you nestle your cheek against that satiny pillow, to the dream about the prince behind your soft eyelids, to the sound of ocean waves as you wake up. You feel more beautiful each day than the day before, alive and renewed, ready to conquer the world, all because you slept on luxurious sheets in a cordially majestic
house.

My night was none of these. Try devilish.

The humidity nearly suffocated me in my sleep, for one thing. As I fought against its invisible moistness, I tossed and turned for a good hour, frustrated that sweat drenched my pajamas and my body stuck to the sheets. Soon I realized I would not win the fight, and I stripped down to my underwear. When I finally did fall asleep, a young woman with creamy skin and braided black hair came to me in a gust of blackness.

Her voice was muffled at first, but it grew louder until her faint words
echoed.

Please don’t kill my son
.
It would be treason. The Celestials would find you. You must stop Mulac,
she pleaded.

Mulac?

Lucas? You mean Lucas?
I tried to say, but I was mute. My voice didn’t exist in the dark, dingy space. However, the woman smiled gravely and
nodded.

Please don’t kill my son
, she repeated.

Who’s your
son
?

In your tongue, you know him as
Xavier.

Her hands reached out to touch me, but I backed
away.

Why
? I
asked.

She looked to the abyss at her side abruptly, and then her dark eyes flicked back to me.
I am out of time. You must stop Mulac. I have seen what will happen if Xavier dies. It would put you in a more dangerous
place.

What do you
mean?

Xavier isn’t the threat. I am out of time. Please, don’t kill my son. Let me deal with
him.

She vanished, and I lunged into consciousness, sweating and heaving for air. When the thickness subsided and it was easier to get breath to my lungs, I eased back down, pulling the silk sheets up to my chin as if they might protect me. I stared at the dark wall in discomfort until my eyes got
heavy.

It was sunny when I woke. I rubbed my eyes and walked unsteadily to the chaise on the balcony. The wild blue horizon went on for eternities. Lucas stepped out of his room, his sapphire shirt waving gently as he hopped over the gap between our balconies.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. My throat was scratchy. “I’m so tired, I . . .”

“I know,” he cut me off. “I was checking on you last
night.”

I looked up at him, ignoring the spontaneous twittering in my gut, and replayed my sleepless
night.

“When?”

“Three times. The first, you were tossing and turning, cursing at the humidity. The second, you were covering your head with a pillow. The third time, you were stripped down to . . . well . . .”

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at my boy shorts and barely-there tank top. I looked up, embarrassed.

“No need to explain. I will have Marifer bring you something better to sleep in for tonight,” he
said.

“Thank
you.”

It was peaceful this warm morning. We stared across the limitless December sea together while I gnawed at my tongue, trying to figure out how to tell Lucas about my dream. I knew his mind was already made up. Xavier would be dead soon. I wanted him dead too. But somehow I knew that wasn’t what needed to
happen.

“The red tide is coming in,” Lucas
said.

I stayed silent. My knees shook as I attempted to count the number of hours I’d slept in the past forty-eight.

“We have a couple of days, and then it will be time,” Lucas
said.

I picked at my nails. Lucas’s hands suddenly wrapped around mine and squeezed
mildly.

“What’s wrong?” he
asked.

“Xavier’s mother came to me last night,” I choked
out.

The change in his expression concerned me. The fine lines were harsher.

“In a . . . in a . . . in my
dream.”

His unearthly features froze as his eyes dissected me. “How are you feeling? You pretty much haven’t slept in two
days.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just
listen.”

He sat next to me. “I’m listening. But I should warn you that whatever you tell me will not change my
mind.”

“How did you know what I was going to
say?”

“Why else would Xavier’s mother come to you, save for her poor, bastard son? She wants you to stop me, doesn’t
she?”

“Lucas, she said that Xavier isn’t the threat. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He stared away from me because that’s what he did when he didn’t want me to see his emotions, but I still saw his jaw tighten.

“She said that she has seen what would happen if we kill him. She said that I would be in a more dangerous place,” I finished.

“Of course she
did.”

“Look, I believe you, and I know that you are trying to protect me. But,” I looked at my hands in shame, “I believe her
more.”

He rose tall, and his chest ballooned out as he breathed in
deeply.

“Get dressed; pack a swimsuit. I will wait for you outside your door,” he said. Without another word, he hopped back over to his room and disappeared
inside.

I could hardly remember when I’d showered last, so I let Lucas go without argument. I sniffed my hair and gagged. I dragged my feet to the shower and let the spray from the large showerhead soothe my hot skin. When I stepped out, my skin remained warm and wet. After three attempts to towel dry I surrendered. I controlled my frizzy waves with wax, smacked lip-gloss on, and slipped cutoff shorts and an old T-shirt over my
bikini.

Lucas was waiting as promised, leaning casually on one arm against the wall. He straightened as I came to him. His intense stare and closed grin proved he was thinking that I looked nice. He didn’t need to say it. I just knew. And I also knew that he was still thinking about Xavier’s
mom.

He led me down the other set of stairs to the second floor. In the daylight the place seemed larger, the central ceiling vaulting higher over the Christmas tree—even the ocean beyond the glass wall seemed bigger. I marveled at the hieroglyphic murals of antique metal that adorned the walls, wondering as we passed what each one meant, who each one
was.

The door to Gabriella and Dylan’s room, which was directly below Lucas’s room, was open. Lucas barged
in.

“Her
way
is getting stronger,” he said, sounding stressed as he threw his hands in the
air.

Gabriella and Dylan were playing a card game on the king-sized bed. The fluff of the duvet hid the
cards.

“My what?” I
asked.

“Your way. It’s an alter ego. How a god can contact you in your dream,” Dylan responded without looking up, still in his
game.

“You can thank Lucas for that. He’s your
wayob
,” Gabriella added. Her smoldering eyes were glinting brown gems in her mermaid’s face. She ignored Lucas’s disapproving scowl as she set her cards down and rose to her
feet.

“My
what?”

“Your spiritual companion,” she added lightly as she walked to her dresser.

Lucas paced, distraught. “Xquic came to her. Begged Zara to change my mind about
Xavier.”

“Change your mind about what?” Dylan
huffed.

“What do you think?” Lucas snapped.

Dylan looked bewildered. “Why?”

“Zara, I have something for you,” Gabriella
said.

She handed me a small turquoise box wrapped with soft, white satin ribbon. Under the ribbon, embossed letters read
Tiffany’s
.

“Gabriella, I can’t take this.” I held the box back out toward
her.

“Why?”

“It’s too
much.”

“You haven’t even seen it.” Gabriella looked to Lucas like I was crazy for not wanting jewelry.

“Zara, if you don’t open that, Gabriella will make me force it on you,” Lucas commented. He strolled past me, one hand on a hip, the other rubbing the stubble on his
chin.

I opened the box obediently and pulled out stone—lots of stone. Jade, turquoise, and smoky topaz stones, each angled differently, concocting a long bracelet rimmed with gold. It was heavier than any bracelet I’d ever
worn.

Gabriella’s soft hands tugged it from my rough fingers and wrapped it around my wrist three times. I noticed the same bracelet on her wrist. It looked better on copper skin. When she finished, she stepped back and put a hand to her cheek proudly. Her fingernails were painted a pearly
color.

“It fits perfectly,” she said, satisfied. “I told you, Dylan, she has tiny wrists just like
me.”

Dylan came over and examined the evidence, then chuckled. “Zara, I have never met anyone with wrists as small as Gabriella’s. Congratulations.” He pivoted to Lucas. “Enough of the drama talk—when are you guys heading
out?”

Lucas shifted his feet and looked at me awkwardly as he cleared his
throat.

“Right after breakfast. We have to tell her parents first,” he said stiffly.

“Tell my parents what?” I
asked.

“Oh, parents.” Dylan snorted. “Right, well, don’t screw this one up, Lucas. Humans can be relentless.”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Lucas grunted.

It was like they were speaking a different language.

“Is this a date?” I asked incredulously.

“What are you guys doing?” Gabriella added in her melodious
voice.

Lucas’s eyes inched to mine uneasily. Dylan laughed harder. It didn’t bother me to be laughed at like this. I was used to it with Max and Casey. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Lucas, as guilty as he was. Why’d he have to make life so difficult? He wanted me, and I knew
it.

“What are you laughing at?” Gabriella asked Dylan. “Once upon a time you
used
to do that for
me.”

As I blinked, a burst of air blew past me. Gabriella was now pinned to the bed beneath Dylan’s hands and
knees.

“So Paris doesn’t count? What does a god have to do for you?” Dylan asked—playing offended, but his voice was
cheery.

“Oh, sorry babe.” Gabriella kissed him and then gracefully escaped through his arms like it was a dance. She shrugged innocently as she walked back to the door. “I
forgot.”

“See, man. You do something nice for them, and they just keep wanting more,” Dylan said with a wink at his lovely
wife.

A short servant I hadn’t seen before, wearing a white dress shirt and jade tie, entered with a soft knock.
“Desayuno, señor.”

Lucas answered politely in Spanish and then said to me, “Breakfast is
ready.”

Breakfast was served on a patio behind the house, half a story above the beach. The salty air rose up and kissed my skin. My parents, Max, and Casey were already waiting at a table decorated with fresh red and pink flowers. There were matching napkins and placemats splashed with bright primary colors. The glasses were the thick, bubbly green of recycled material, and the plates were traditional-looking stoneware with colorful hand-painted designs on
them.

Valentina and Andrés rose and bestowed gentle salutatory kisses on our
cheeks.

“Buenas dias,”
they
said.

My parents observed from their seats. Dylan smirked when he noticed the twins gawking at Gabriella.

“Zara, how did you sleep last night?” Valentina asked as the small, dark-haired Aluxes brought in large platters.

The plate uncovered before me bore assorted tropical fruits, including some sort of white fruit with tiny black
seeds.

“It was hard for me to get used to the humidity,” I replied, watching wearily as another plate arrived. It looked like tortilla chips smothered in red sauce with melted white cheese and onion slices on top. Tortilla chips for breakfast was a first for
me.

“Chilaquiles are my favorite dish,” Lucas assured
me.

Max and Casey were already chewing on the strange combination as I picked up a forkful of soggy chips and took a bite. It was the most exuberant red sauce I’d ever tasted. Lucas smiled, pleased, as I took a more enthusiastic
bite.

“Mr. and Mrs. Moss, would you mind if I took Zara out on a tour?” Lucas
asked.

“Will you be home for dinner?” Valentina
asked.

“No, I already have dinner arrangements for
us.”

“You’re not going to Chichen-ee—er, whatever you call that place?” Dad wondered. “That place is far from here, isn’t
it?”

“No, sir, that would definitely be too far. Local areas,” Lucas replied.

Andrés tilted his head. “Be careful.”

Max and Casey watched us closely, and I silently blamed Jett. They were probably reporting everything to him. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him, stuck with just his mom on Christmas, in a town where he had no friends. Then I reminded myself I was the one to feel sorry for. My life was in danger. I narrowed my eyes at Max and
Casey.

“What are you guys going to do today?” I
asked.

They looked from the beach to the pool, back to the beach, and then to each
other.

“Absolutely nothing,” Casey said blissfully.

“Maybe we can see if we can rent Sea-Doos,” Max reckoned.

Dylan knuckled Max on the arm. “I’ll take you guys out, man.”

“Really, you want to go? We figured you probably get sick of doing that sort of thing since you come here all the time,” Max
said.

“No, it never gets old for me. Don’t worry about renting, we have some in the garage downstairs.”

“Are you sure, man?” Casey asked, practically already off his
chair.

“Yeah, bro.” Dylan grinned and
stood.

“Portate, mi amor,”
Gabriella said through clenched teeth, making it seem like a warning.

Dylan kissed her, a certain eagerness suddenly taking over, then looked to my brothers. “Meet me in the garage when you are
ready.”

After I devoured breakfast, I followed Lucas down the wooden stairs to the beach and over the sand to a shaded path between tall, mature palm trees. Shrubs and exotic flowers grew thickly around the trees’ bases, creating the illusion of a green
wall.