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.”
“What do you know about it?” I glance over my shoulder, shifting my focus between her and Gabe.
“Same thing I’ve always known about it. It’s going to be fun to see how this ends. Though probably more so for me than you—I’m pretty sure your luck is about to run out.”
“Luck? You think I’m relying on luck?” Now it’s my turn to laugh, the sound bitter, sarcastic, and not at a
ll satisfying. I return my focus to Gabe, and shove the tip of my blade into his flesh, releasing a bright trail of red. “Luck has no place where duty’s concerned. I’ve trained hard for this moment. I’m merely doing what I was born to do and no more.”
“If you say so,” she muses. “Still, it’s a rare spectacle to watch a Seeker kill a human. That’s Coyote’s game, not yours.”
“Looks like the rules have changed.”
“Have they? Or is that how you justify your rage over all that you’ve lost?”
I glare from over my shoulder. If she wasn’t so formidable, she’d be next on my list. “What do you care?”
“I don’t. It’s all the same to me. In the end, I’ll get your bones too. And, from the looks of things, it won’t be much longer. Speaking of . . . have you seen him? Have you seen the Echo turned beast?” Her jaw lifts. Her cheeks widen. The sound of bone scraping bone as disturbing as nails on a chalkboard—until she heaves a long sigh and her face transforms to the flesh-and-blood version. Her skin as translucent as wax paper, her eyes adopting a lascivious gleam at the memory.
And though I’d like to look away, pretend to ignore it, if she has any idea where Dace is, I need her to tell me. Tightening my hold on Gabe, who, oddly enough makes no attempt to escape, I turn to her and say, “Listen, anything you can tell me about Dace’s whereabouts would be greatly appreciated.”
“I’ll bet.” She returns to watching over her snakes, signaling she has no intention of helping me, so I switch my focus to Gabe.