The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (43 page)

Huitzilihuitl and Tez were standing with my family and Tita in a circle by the water, out of view of the
house.

I nodded. “Huitzilihuitl. Tez.”

“Lucas.” They
nodded.

I glanced back to my family, glad to see they looked well and not as damaged as I expected. One look at the others, though, made me exhausted. Huitzilihuitl, stained and reeking of oil again, and Tez, slick and clean, with tired yet very sharp eyes, made me wish for a new life. I didn’t want a laborious life. I wanted a free life. Free to love, free to speak, free to feel—a life with purpose. I wanted to sit on a country porch and play guitar as children ran around, to watch the sunset with Zara, counting each, knowing they were numbered in our short lives, savoring each one more than the last. I would not have
that
life, not with my invisible bonds, but I could give myself to Zara—serve her—for one human lifespan and still feel freer, more alive, than I ever would in the rest of my eternity. I felt anew because I
chose
Zara. And I supposed I always
had.

“It has been explained to me that Xavier is out,” Huitzilihuitl said, shifting his gaze to
Andrés.

“Yes. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

Perhaps I spoke as if this were a light topic. Huitzilihuitl’s face burst with anger at my undermining comment. I looked to the
ground.

“Where is the sacrifice?” he
asked.

My throat tightened. I glanced at Andrés to make sure it was okay to speak freely. He nodded. “Inside, being watched over by her family and two Aluxes,” I answered carefully.

He folded his large arms across his chest. “Do the humans know our secrets?”

“No.”

“Explain . . . spare no details.”

I recounted everything, from Tita’s vision to all that had happened in the past year. The pad of his wide thumb rubbed his chin as he listened. When I finished, he looked to my family and then to
Tita.

“Now I will explain something to you. I don’t trust witches; I
hate
witches. And now I don’t trust you.” My body tensed, and Tita froze. I watched the muscles around her eyes deepen with sadness. “But I have been told that Xibalba has been experiencing certain tremors. They grow weaker.” He studied me a moment. “I believe it is because of you, and this . . .”

“Zara,” I
said.

A low grumble escaped his mouth. “ . . . this girl, with you, starts these tremors. I do
not
believe in prophecies that come from witches, but I believe in fate. Everyone will get what they deserve. Mictlan got what he deserved, and we will too. We broke a binding agreement. We stole from Mictlan. There will be a price to
pay.”

“Why? Why do we have to pay the price for someone else’s
wrong?”

“Someone else’s wrong? You stole from him! You lied to
ME!”

“Don’t hurt her,” I pleaded.

“
Silencio
, Lucas! We are not thieves; we pay for what we
take.”

“Don’t give her to him, I beg
you!”

“I’ve made my law . . .”

“
Your
law? Isn’t this supposed to be
our
law? You don’t represent the others; you represent yourself!” I shouted.

“Lucas! Watch your tongue,” Valentina snapped.

I fell to my knees. The sand was powder, damp with my tears. “Huitzilihuitl, do not make this mistake. Give me a chance to show
you.”

“Lucas,” he spat, his face disgusted. “I am
not
giving her up. You are keeping
her.”

“What?”

“Why would I give up a possession that can make Xibalba tremble?”

I sniffed. “Then what do you mean, ‘price to
pay’?”

“The portal is closed, and I cannot reopen it. The sacrifices will no longer take place. The
price,
Lucas, will be the price of breaking our agreement.”

“What will that
be?”

“A wrath of revenge.” A sickening calmness controlled him. He rubbed one hand over the other in slow
motion.

“How? They have no way of getting to us. The Milky Way has
passed.”

“They do not now. But they will, I assure
you.”

Tez’s footprints in the sand flooded as he stepped deeper into our circle. “Lucas, the Council agreed to let you keep the girl, contingent upon you further exploring your connection and reporting to us. She will be our greatest weapon, and when they return, we will need
her.”

It was hard to hear Zara being called a
weapon.
Tez was on my side, but he didn’t know the side effects of Zara’s ability. I shuddered, remembering Zara collapsing before the mental assaults. The girl was just a girl, not a
weapon.

“What if they come after she has already grown old and died? What then?” I wondered.

“You die first, then your family, then we come up with another arrangement before they bring war on
us.”

“One that doesn’t involve people dying, please,” Gabriella
said.

“Gabriella,” Dylan said. “After we’ve done this, they won’t take anything
but.”

“What about bloodletting?” she asked, hopeful.

“No, babe.”

An unexpected laugh choked my throat. “It wouldn’t matter because we’d be dead.”
More like murdered.

Gabriella frowned and turned to me with a determination made of pure fear. “Lucas, you love that girl so hard your heart hurts.” Her voice shook, and strands of hair flew over her face. She cinched it into a ponytail in one hand and brushed the strays away with the other. “Keep her. You hear me? Otherwise, I’ll kill you
myself.”

I blinked at her, then switched my attention to Huitzilihuitl with a crazy notion. “Do I have permission to marry her, Huitzilihuitl?”

“You want to marry her?” He laughed. I gulped back a ball of pressure and let the joy of proposing root a new stress inside me. I had heard of men becoming sick with worry whether a woman would say yes. I was beginning to feel the same, only worse. If Zara said no, I’d face denial and possibly death.
But then again, if she says no, I’d rather be dead
anyway.

“Huit, look at Valentina and Andrés. Chac admires them, god and human together, and they have served us well thus far,” Tez said, eying me carefully afterward. I understood now that he was here for damage control, in case Huitzilihuitl acted against us. I was glad he was here. “This girl is our weapon; she needs the proper care to grow, doesn’t
she?”

Huitzilihuitl whipped around. His mouth shrank like a fish’s as his black eyebrows slanted in. “Mulac doesn’t know anything about caring for a woman. And she isn’t here so you can sleep with her. The
only
reason she is still here is because she is our
weapon.”

“I agree, she is special,” I said. “But in order for Zara to
grow
as you wish, she must grow into a woman first . . . sexually too. When that time comes, it will be me who lies with her. No one else. I can help her. Let me try . . . and . . . I
will
take care of
her.”

“How do you know
this?”

“Because I have felt
it.”

“And I have seen it,” Tez
added.

“The girl does no good to us alone. The connection must be bound,” Tita abruptly
said.

Huitzilihuitl looked away from her in contempt. “Why?”

I could tell his cruelty toward Tita was another slash at her self-worth, but she stood tall, her hair still spiked from battle. “Security.”

“I will watch and make sure Lucas keeps his end of the deal,” Andrés said as a wave splashed around his ankles. But this wasn’t a
deal
; this was my decision. I loved Zara and wanted
this.

Huitzilihuitl grunted and said, “
Don’t
disappoint me.” And then he vanished.

Dylan’s laughter broke our silence. “This has got to be the biggest pressure any man has ever had to marry a woman. I do not envy you, brother.”

I swallowed, nearly choking with shock that we had stopped the sacrifices, and Zara and I were still alive, and that it was actually
okay
to love each other and even marry
.
I stared off into the limitless turquoise water, unable to fathom it all. My shackles were gone. I could breathe. A torrent of gratitude suddenly made me quiver. I stretched my back and stood taller. Today would mark my last day in hell, and my first of
utopia.

Zara

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Meant but Never Said

I drifted into the expanding whiteness until I was back in Tahoe at the wintery pond. I walked along the edge slowly, watching white butterflies land on the silver lily pads. I saw a pair of bright blue eyes staring at me through the
aspens.

I followed them, wondering why the observer looked so familiar. I stopped and circled the soft snow where they had appeared, searching for anything with a tint of
blue.

“Zara,” a voice said behind
me.

I flipped around and he was there, taller than me, hair as dark as ebony. I knew this man. His name was on the tip of my tongue. He reached for me with smooth hands, and mine felt rough and callused against
them.

“Zara,” he whispered again. “Come back to
me.”

Then the dark angel bent his head and touched his lips to mine, sending a surge of electricity rippling through my body. I broke away and touched my poisoned lips, shocked.

“Come home,” he said, anguished, and then he vanished.

Whiteness consumed me again, and I floated into nothingness. The poison of his kiss streamed downward and set my heart to aching. But I wanted more. I wanted more of his poison; I wanted him.
What is his name?
It irked me until one memory arose in my
mind.

I glanced at my arm. The aqua heart glowed in the silver light. I stroked it, feeling his warm, gentle touch when he put it there. I closed my eyes, remembering. He and I walking along the beach at night, the fine sand squeezing in between our toes while the water glittered bright blue. Him bending down to touch the water, his finger glowing as he lifted it. Him scribbling on my arm, producing a heart that blazed aqua in the night.
Mi princesa,
he
said.

Lucas!

My throat scratched as I struggled to say his name. A deep, catching breath brought in fresh air and the scent of laundry detergent. I cracked my eyes open and squinted down at myself. White satin pajamas robed my aching body. A fuzzy figure moved at my side. I squinted at it, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the bright
light.

“She’s awake,” Lucas said. He turned. “Go get her parents.”

I tried to identify the dark figures at his left, but they fled too quickly.

His warm hand quickly filled the space in mine. “I’m right
here.”

My head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and it pounded horrifically when I
moved.

“Be still. You got beat up pretty bad,” he said, brushing hair gently off my
cheek.

“Is Xavier . . .?” I whispered.

Lucas
nodded.

I choked down a cry. “And the
portal?”

“Yes.”

“And
Xquic?”

“We were lucky that she persuaded Xavier to go. Dylan and Tita were close to destroying
him.”

“Are you safe from the Council?” I
asked.

“As far as I know, yes.”

An overwhelming sense of relief eased some of the pain, but then the image of Max running from my room brought the anxiety rushing back. “Max,” I gasped. “He went to go get Nicolás for
help.”

My head itched. I raised my hand to scratch, but pain stabbed across my upper chest and my hand stopped short. I
moaned.

Lucas softly pulled my hand away and laid it back on the bed. “You need time to heal. Those have to stay on there, and don’t raise your arm. Your collarbone is broken . . . and a
rib.”

“What’s that?” There were puncture wounds in my undamaged
wrist.

He stroked the bruises gently before looking away. “Your parents will be here
soon.”

My heart skipped.
How can I think of a lie to cover this
up?

“It’s okay,” he said. “You drowned. The tide took you pretty hard. You got cut up when it thrashed you down into the
reef.”

“How did I get out?” I wondered, catching on to his raised eyebrow.

His troubled face broke into an endearing smile. “I saved you, of course. That’s five
now.”

He sat gingerly on the edge of my bed as I secretly counted.

“What day is it?” I
asked.

“Two days after Christmas.”

I began to sob, imagining my poor brother. “What about Max? I disappeared from my bed, Lucas.”

“When I showed up with you at the house, Nicolás warned me that Max was involved, with a little too much information,” Lucas said. I didn’t like his reprimanding
tone.

“Sorry. Nicolás was ignoring me,” I said defensively.

“On my
orders.”

“Yeah, well, your plan didn’t exactly work as agreed, did
it?”

There was a tickling sensation on the inside of my fingers, where Lucas had settled his hand again. There was grief in his eyes. “Zara, everything I did was to protect you. If I’d known that he could take you . . . this wouldn’t have happened.”

I gazed away, embarrassed to seem ungrateful but still angry, and realized just how much gauze covered my body beneath the silk. Lucas was already holding up a small mirror when I looked up. The first thing I noticed was the cloth wrapped tightly around my forehead and a scrape along my cheekbone. The wound left by Xavier’s dagger over my left breast was bandaged and taped. Thick white gauze encircled my wrist, a slight pink tint marking the surface. The disturbing dark impression of fingers spread from beneath the dressing, and similar purple spots marked much of my
body.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your back,” Lucas said, picking up a roll of gauze. He lifted my wrist and gently wrapped a fresh layer over the fingerprints. “We can’t let anyone see
this.”

Everything throbbed. I wondered why I wasn’t healing fast like
before.

“What is wrong with my body?” I asked, shifting to a more comfortable position.

“You suffered a concussion, broke your collarbone, broke a rib. And . . .”

“And
what?”

“You died, Zara. I had to resuscitate you,” he said gravely. “We took blood from a local hospital and gave you a transfusion.”

“Am I curable?” I asked, worry compounding when I breathed in deeply and felt a sharp pain in my
ribs.

“You mean will you heal fast?” He shook his head apologetically.

I wanted to cry when I couldn’t breathe in all the way. “Why
not?”

“Did you drink Xavier’s blood?” he
asked.

“He made
me.”

“Xavier was trying to rid himself of the curse, but it bonded you
two.”

I gasped sharply, then gasped again as pain shrieked through my torso. “What?”

“Only for the time being. But Dylan’s power will only work on
humans.”

“What are you saying? That I’m not human anymore?”

There was light laughter suddenly. “You will always be human, but you have a god’s blood inside you. Until your blood runs clear, your body won’t allow Dylan to change
it.”

“Will morphine work, at
least?”

He looked toward the puncture wounds over the veins on my wrist. “We’ve already tried two days’ worth of doses. It didn’t take—that’s why we took the IV
out.”

I slouched with despair.

“So what did you tell Max when you got
home?”

He fixed his gaze on me and interlaced our fingers before speaking. “When I got home, Max wasn’t exactly talkative. He saw me outside holding you, and saw all the blood on my clothes. He knew something was up, but I only told him that I saved you from a tide. Your parents didn’t see anything until you were already cleaned up and in bed. I told them the same, that you tried to go for a swim in the middle of a rainstorm, and that I had to get you out of it. Max still hasn’t said anything to anyone, but I know he is spooked. You scared him pretty bad. I mean, I would be too, if my sister was telling me to run for help and then disappeared to who knows where, only to return wounded and unconscious in the hands of a stranger.”

His tone held subtle sympathy for Max. My nose scrunched at my hideous behavior. He was right, and considering how awful I looked and felt now, I could only imagine how Max felt when Lucas brought me in, bloody and mostly dead. “Has he seen me
yet?”

“He came as soon as I got home with
you.”

I suddenly remembered that I’d left the temple naked, except for that awful loincloth. “Was I decent? I mean, was I still in . . .”

Lucas sighed, flashing a tender smile, and kissed the bandage on my wrist. “No.”

My body warmed as I flushed in embarrassment. “How did I get into these clothes?”

Lucas chuckled quietly. “I wish I could say it was me, but unfortunately it wasn’t. Marifer changed you so that your family wouldn’t see you like that. I may be bad, but I am still a gentleman.”

As I snickered with him, my heart swelled with gratitude for Marifer.

“Max is torn over everything,” Lucas said. “He believed you earlier—that something was wrong—so he doesn’t believe that you were trying to go for a swim in the storm. He’s your brother, Zara. I don’t want to ruin your relationship with him, and we didn’t want to . . . intervene with him unless you want us to. If you need Dylan to help, he will, but I thought you wouldn’t want that. We are leaving Max up to you, to tell him what you think is necessary. Just know that nothing good can come from him knowing even the slightest bit of
truth.”

“I
know.”

Right then I decided to lie to protect him. I had a funny feeling in my stomach. I knew he’d be hard to persuade, but I had to try. I couldn’t have his mind tampered
with.

Lucas’s face suddenly went bland, and he stood abruptly and turned his back to me. My eyes wandered to the door, where my family
waited.

“Come in,” I said hoarsely.

My eyes watered when Max entered. His shaggy hair looked greasy, sticking out from his baseball cap. His face had been wrung dry of expression, leaving only confusion as he stood back against the wall, watching me as if I were a ghost. A large lump in my throat prevented me from talking.
This is going to be harder than I thought.

Mom sat at my side. “How are you feeling, hon?”

“I’ve been
better.”

“You are so lucky Lucas came home when he did. We probably would have never found you,” she griped, attempting cheer. Her eyes were sunken with exhaustion.

“I know, Mom. I’m so sorry.” Max shook his head in the back, calling me on my lie. I flicked my guilty eyes
away.

“I’m just happy you’re okay,” Mom said, wrapping her arms around my
neck.

I screamed as pain racked me from my collarbone down to my ribs. She rocketed up and covered her
mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried into cupped
hands.

Dad patted her slouched shoulders, then took the bunched seat at my side, kissing the bandage on my forehead as he did. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”

He looked happier than the others. “I can’t wait to show you all the pictures we
took.”

“Me
too.”

It was nice to smile back. It was the one thing that didn’t
hurt.

“I’m sorry you had to miss out on so much,” he
said.

“Dad, it’s okay. Really. It’s entirely my fault. I was just being
stupid.”

“Maybe. You’re lucky Lucas got you out,” he said, getting off the
bed.

Casey moved into his
spot. It was disgraceful how he scanned me head to toe with a sly, disgusted smirk. “How you feeling, sis?”

“What do you
think?”

There were wrinkles on his forehead when he smiled. “No offense, but Jett is going to hear about this one. This definitely wasn’t your smartest
moment.”

“I know, I figured.” I
sighed.

Max moved up behind Casey, glaring accusations at me, but then he shook his head and ran out the
door.

I froze, wanting to get up and run after him, but I couldn’t even wiggle my toes. Lucas chased after him, and I began to tear
up.

“We should probably let Zara rest,” Andrés said quickly, noticing the water gathering in my eyes. “Marifer will keep an eye on her while we get some food into the rest of us. Zara will be fine. Please, let’s go get you all some
dinner.”

Mom wiggled out of Dad’s embrace and kissed me softly on my uncut cheek. “Get some rest,” she said. “I’ll check back on you
soon.”

When the last of them had left, Andrés bent over and applied a gentle kiss over Mom’s. “I’m glad you are
okay.”

“Thank you, Andrés,” I sniffled.

Valentina followed with the same light kiss, but she left her hands delicately on my skin. “I knew you were tough, but it’s important that you get your rest
now.”

But I knew that I couldn’t rest until I knew one thing. “Where did Xavier and Xquic
go?”

“To Peru, for now.” She paused, reading the fear in my eyes. “They will not come after you. I swear to it. Now rest, my
child.”

As Valentina left with Andrés, Gabriella moved to my side with happy tears. Dylan stood next to her with his arms crossed.

“Zara, you made it,” she
said.

“Barely.”

Dylan’s emerald eyes were kind and inviting as he stepped closer, the complete opposite of Xavier’s harsh coldness. “What did Xavier say to you, Zara?”

“Tita’s spell didn’t keep him out because his body and soul were separate.”

Dylan dropped into the chair against the wall in full concentration, resting his chin on a balled fist and tapping his foot. “He was stronger than I thought, that little bastard.”

Then he stood, directed a torrent of Spanish at Gabriella, and headed out the
door.

“Dylan,” I called to his
back.

He stopped short of the door and
turned.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

There was a distracted glaze over his nod, and then he
left.

I looked around for pain pills, hoping they’d work better than the useless morphine. As I spotted a small orange bottle on the dresser, Gabriella grabbed it and passed me
three.

“It won’t do much, but it should take the edge off,” she said, handing me a cup of
water.

“Thanks.”

She sat at the edge of the bed, her large brown eyes watching me too closely as I swallowed.

“What?” I
asked.

“Just wondering what you will choose to do
next.”

“What do you
mean?”