The Soul Seekers: Horizon (25 page)

The second the sand drops from under our feet, Axel pulls me tightly to his chest and wraps his arms snugly around me in an effort to cushion the fall.

He’s always there for me.

Always looking out for me.

In just six short months he’s become such an integral part of my life, I can’t imagine ever being without him.

We crash to the ground, with Axel on the bottom, me on top. And after determining we both survived seemingly unharmed, I bury my face in his chest and seek strength in his touch. Figuring
I’m going to need it, since, from what I can tell, the world’s gone to hell.

“You okay?” Axel loosens his grip, gets us both to our feet, as I adjust the straps of my dress and conduct a quick inventory of myself.

“Yeah,” I say. “Or, at least, I think so. That mask is long gone, but good riddance. I’m just glad I let Daire convince me to wear these boots.” I raise the hem of
my dress, gaze down at the hideous pair of hiking boots I was reluctant to wear. “The stilettos I had in mind never would’ve survived that fall.” I grin, jostle his shoulder, try
to get a response. But he’s already drawing away. “What? What is it?” I follow the direction of his strangely glittering gaze, watching as he stares wide-eyed at a sky glowing
red.

“It’s the Upperworld.” He turns to me, his face filled with pain. “It’s been breached.”

I study him closely, alarmed by the way his irises lighten until they’re almost iridescent in color. “Maybe it’s just more of Cade’s stupid magick tricks. I mean, it
wouldn’t be the first time. Last Christmas Eve he made the sky bleed fire. Practically firebombed the whole town.”

“It’s not Cade.” His tone is as regretful as his face. “I can hear the cries of my people in agony.”

He starts to withdraw. His movements so effortless, it’s as though he’s being willed by a much greater force.

“Axel!” I grasp his hand, force him to face me. “What are you doing?” I cry, though the answer is clear. His eyes reveal everything. “No.” My voice shakes,
though it’s nothing compared to my knees. “No! You
cannot
go back there! You live here now!”

“Lita . . .” He turns long enough to cup his hands to my cheeks, his touch so soft I could easily be distracted if his gaze wasn’t so final.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” My voice is shrill in a way that would normally embarrass me, but not anymore, not when everything I cherish is about to fall apart. “You come
into my life, make me fall head over heels for you, just so you can dump me the second the worlds go to hell?” I clutch his arm tightly, try to force a reply, but when he fails to speak, I
try another approach and appeal to his practical side. “Axel, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you
cannot
leave me out here on my own. It’s dangerous, there
are demons, and I’m completely unarmed!”

“You’re not unarmed.” He plucks the last remaining feather from my hair and brushes the vane softly against my cheek. “It’s a miracle you didn’t lose it in
the fall. It must be an omen.”

“A miracle? Since when does a feather qualify as a miracle?” Hating the very sight of it, I bat it with the back of my hand, push it away. “Like that’s ever going to
defend me against a Richter!” I glare, so angry, so incredibly insulted, I could scream. Though somehow, I manage to refrain.

“It’s not just any feather. It’s an Eagle—”

“I know what kind of feather it is!” I rub my lips together. Bite back a barrage of words I’ll only live to regret. Knowing it’s better to appear rational, if not
entirely calm, I force myself to say, “Axel, I swear if you leave me here, I will—”

He presses a finger to my lips, which only tempts me to bite it. Not that it’ll do any good. He’ll just bleed a bit of gold, before the wound seals right up as though it never
existed.

“
Believe,
Lita. That’s all I ask of you. Belief and intent are at the heart of all magick. It can’t possibly work without them.”

I start to push his hand away, but the second my fingers meet his, I find myself clasping it instead. “And who exactly am I supposed to send a prayer to? You? You gonna answer my wish once
you get there?”

“If I’m able.”

“And if you’re not?”

He squeezes my fingers, holds my hand close to his chest. “Honestly, I’m just looking to get my own prayer answered. But, Lita, you need to know that prayers are like wishes. If you
waste them on the frivolous, they won’t be there when you need them for something serious. So please think long and hard before you put this to use.” He places the feather into my hand
and curls my fingers around the quill.

“You’re serious. You’re really doing this, aren’t you?” My voice cracks, hardly able to believe this is happening. That Cade’s prophecy of our doomed romance
is actually coming true.

Axel cups his palms to my cheek, his glimmering lavender eyes conveying all the things that words fail to. But it’s too painful. I can’t bear to look. So I shutter my eyes, tip onto
my toes, and bring my lips to meet his. Allowing myself to revel in a touch so light, so mesmerizing, so loving, so fleeting . . .

And the next thing I know, he’s disappeared into a burst of blazing red light.

I follow Chay’s Eagle to a fat nest of demons amusing themselves by terrorizing a warren full of rabbits.

Which is why they don’t notice me.

“Bunnies? Really?” I wave my athame before me. “You know, the rules are actually pretty simple, and yet you always seem to break them. So, allow me to remind you. First, there
will be no terrorizing, killing, or eating of the sprit animals—”

They stop with the menacing and turn their attention to me, waiting to hear what comes next. That’s the thing about demons—while they’re definitely hideous, evil, incredibly
dangerous, and prone to causing massive destruction, they’re also easily distracted.

Not to mention stupid.

“And second—”

My gaze moves among them, searching for the leader. Deciding it’s not the one that snarls, growls, and goes after me first, I still don’t hesitate to slice my athame straight through
his thick, scaly neck—if for no other reason than to send a message to the rest.

His body jerks and twitches in a brief adrenaline-laced jig, before collapsing to the dirt alongside its head.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—” I shake the remaining crud from my blade and position it before me, ready to take the next wave. “The Upper-and
Lowerworlds are strictly off-limits. Which means you can either leave now, or deal with me. Your choice.”

They come at me in a wave of tails and horns and oversized monstrous heads, and my athame carves ’em up as easily as a Thanksgiving turkey. Counting each severed bit as a small sign of
victory, all the while knowing I probably shouldn’t be enjoying it to the degree that I am.

It’s not like there’s a shortage of evil. There are plenty more where they came from.

Not to mention that somewhere, out there, Coyote is waiting.

I stop with the fancy moves and quips, and concentrate instead on finishing the job. Methodically eliminating them one by one, until the entire nest is eradicated and I follow Eagle to the next
one. Then the one after that. And all those that follow. Eventually slaying so many demons, the spirit animals begin to come out of hiding and work alongside me.

A posse of Rabbits, Turtles, Bison, Ram, and Bobcats are soon joined by countless others intent on reclaiming their turf.

Though, once again, Raven is notably absent.

Horse too.

But with so much left to do, I can’t get distracted. I keep a close watch on Eagle as he soars a wide arc before me, just a few feet ahead, signaling another lot of demons lurking nearby.
Swooping past my shoulder just as I’m about to close in, he veers so close his feathers graze my cheek like a kiss, before he winks out of sight.

A chill pricks the back of my neck, blankets my skin.

My knees go weak.

As my fingers tremble so severely I nearly drop the athame.

My body instantly acknowledging the truth my mind fights to deny.

Chay.

Another one lost at the Richters’ hands.

I sag toward the ground, staggering under the weight of the loss. So gripped by grief, it’s a moment before I notice the peal of voices shouting close by.

Driven by rage, heartache, and vengeance, I spring to my feet and race toward the noise. Wondering at the spirit animals’ unwillingness to follow, when I burst onto a scene that explains
their reluctance.

Even with her back turned toward me, the sight of her gorgeous mane of glistening amber waves spilling down her back, her black leather corset, unearthly translucent skin, and skirt comprised of
countless slithering, writhing, live snakes, leave no doubt I’ve crossed paths with the Bone Keeper.

The one who rules the lowest level of the Lowerworld.

The one who presides over the Day of the Dead, collecting the bones of the deceased as admittance to the afterlife.

No wonder the spirit animals prefer to steer clear—she’s as terrifying now as the first day I met her.

“So, the Seeker returns.” Her voice is throaty and deep, as she glances over her shoulder, revealing the beautiful version of her face. The large, black onyx eyes—the lush
generous mouth used for swallowing stars. A stunning façade that can instantly shift to a sun-bleached skull with horrible empty sockets standing in for the eyes. “While you’ve
done a fine job of demon slaying, don’t get any ideas. Demons serve me no purpose, which is why I left them to you. These ones are mine, you’ll get no part of them.” She gestures
toward a large group of Richters who had the misfortune of falling into her trap.

It’s the one commonality we share—the Bone Keeper hates Coyote almost as much as I do. For centuries, their dead have denied her their bones, and the Bone Keeper never forgets
what’s owed her.

The ones still alive huddle wide-eyed and terrified, watching as her endless army of snakes sink their fangs into the flesh of the fallen. Painstakingly stripping them of muscle and meat,
exposing the bones that she covets.

I gaze upon the lot of them, searching for three in particular. Hoping they’re not among the heap being flayed by the snakes. I have my own torture planned.

“While I’m not here to interfere with . . .” I gaze among the wreckage, looking for the correct way to phrase the horror show she’s directing. “. . . your
bone
collecting,
I feel I should warn you—that one is mine.” I point to the one on my list, leaving no room for doubt who I’ve set my sights on, as I pick my way through countless
beds of snakes.

Ready to stake my claim, when the Bone Keeper’s pale bony hand locks hard on my wrist. “I don’t negotiate.” Her eyes blaze on mine.

I place my hand over hers and wrench free of her grip, rubbing the place where her nails nearly broke through my skin. “Funny, that’s not how I remember it.” I glare, recalling
the deal we wagered on the Day of the Dead when I got the souls, and she kept the bones. “Not to mention, today is not
Dia de los Muertos.
You have no claim to them.”

She grins. Her lips stretching wide to reveal a row of glittering teeth, a tongue sprinkled with stardust. The display oddly enticing, until her face transforms into a skull and the illusion is
lost. “In case you haven’t noticed, the worlds are merged, Seeker. The old rules no longer apply.”

“A temporary reprieve, that’s soon to be remedied.” I push the words past, speaking with far more confidence than I currently own. “And, as it just so happens, that one
is the first step toward making it happen.” I brush past her until I’m standing before him. Enjoying the look of sheer terror on Gabe’s face as I press the tip of my
demon-crud-covered athame to the underside of his chin. Admittedly disappointed it’s not Leandro or Cade, though it’s still a good start. “You can have his bones for all I care.
But I want to be the one to destroy him.”

“My, my.” The sound of the Bone Keeper giggling is so unnatural, I can’t help but cringe. “Seems the Echo’s not the only one who’s gone dark around
here.”