Horizon

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Same reason most people lie to me. To gain special favor.”

  “I’m not seeking favors.”

  “Aren’t you?” His brow creases and lifts, his lips fall thin and flat. “That’s not what I hear. Cade warned me you’d come. Says you want your old job back.”

  “Then Cade’s a liar.”

  Leandro tenses, his fingers curl ever so slightly, yet there’s no denying his curiosity’s spiked.

  “I have no interest in being yet another underpaid lackey.”

  He shifts his weight onto his heels, shoots me an appraising look. “So, what do you have in mind?”

  “I want that pay raise you promised last New Year’s Eve.”

  “That so?” His eyes crease in amusement. “And tell me, Dace, what do you plan on doing to earn it? What sort of services are you offering to provide?”

  “Whatever’s needed. You’re the boss, you tell me.” I take a moment to glance all around, trying to guesstimate just how much this renovation might’ve cost. No doubt, it set them back a good bit. Still, the Richters are wealthy beyond measure. Whatever the number, they can afford it.

  “Turns out, there wasn’t a whole lot that came out of pocket.” Leandro tries to appear as though he read my thoughts, when in reality, we both know it was my body language that gave me away. “Luckily, we were well-insured. Not that it concerns you.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  A group of workers file past, making last-minute adjustments to the furniture placement, the angle of the lighting, as Leandro leans closer and says, “You planning to inherit or claim a portion of the profits?”

  “Yes to both.” I meet his gaze. “I figure once you go, at least half should be mine. Don’t forget, I am part Richter.”

  “But not the half that counts. As you so eloquently stated last New Year’s Eve.” He tilts his head back, stares down the bridge of his nose. “While I find this all very intriguing, I’m afraid you’re testing my patience. I’m a busy man. I have a club that’s set to reopen, and a long list of things to accomplish well before then. Aside from the responsibility of running this town and looking after its citizens who depend on me for their very well-being. So why don’t you get to the point. You want a job, is that right?”

  “For starters.” I nod.

  “And why should I hire you when, from what I hear, the gas station just gave you the boot? If you couldn’t even handle that brand of grunt work, what makes you think I want you working in my establishment?”

  I duck my head, stare at my feet, figuring it’s better to remain silent than to rush to my own defense. If Leandro feels the need to exert his authority and show me who’s the alpha Coyote, so be it. I’m fine with holding my cards until it’s time to play them.

  “Excuse my suspicion,” he continues. “But it wasn’t long ago when you wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, and rest assured I never am, you saw fit to threaten me. Going so far as to say, ‘I’m the mistake you will live to regret.’”

  He pauses, giving me ample time to explain. And since there’s no denying anything he just said, I lift my shoulders, and admit, “That was then. This is now.

  “Yeah? And what exactly has changed?”

  “A lot’s changed. I’ve changed.”

  “What specifically?” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, sneaks a peek at his flashy gold watch. Signaling that I am mere seconds from losing his attention for good.

  “Specifically—this.” I push my dark shades high onto my forehead, revealing a set of red, glowing eyes. “Turns out, I couldn’t control my destiny in the way that I thought. There’s no stopping it. No way to fight it. So, I figure if this is what I’m meant to be, then it’s time I embrace it.”

  Leandro moves closer, his expression as unguarded as I’ve ever seen. He lifts a hand to my cheek, whispers a string of words that at first I don’t understand. It’s only a few moments later after replaying them in my head that I realize he’s saying, son—my son, as he gazes upon me with the sort of reverence normally reserved for saints.

  Though, I guess to Leandro, my blackened heart and tarnished soul hold a similar appeal.

  “I knew it.” He’s transfixed by my gaze. “I knew it when I saw you last New Year’s Eve. Despite your bravado, I could sense the beast growing within. I knew it wouldn’t be long before it made itself known—and now this.”

  He places a hand on either side of my face, thumbs pressing into my temples. That simple, singular touch enough to infuse me with a cache of esoteric secrets and arcane knowledge, until the entire history of the dark arts is coursing through my blood. Much of which comes as no surprise considering the countless times I eavesdropped on the elders’ private conversations as a kid. Still, seeing it unfold firsthand and discovering the whispers were true is something else entirely.

  In order to be fully initiated into the dark arts—whether it be skinwalking or, in my case, making the full transition into the malevolent beast I’m destined to be—killing a relative is the price of admission.

  Turns out, it’s the most useful thing Leandro has shared.

  It may well prove to be the last conscious choice I’m able to make before the beast fully dominates.

  It’s an act no Richter has ever achieved. As Leftfoot once said, Leandro is unwilling to spare even the dimmest Richter. Which explains why Cade’s transitions are always temporary. Not a single one of them has ever been willing to go all the way—until now.

  I have every intention of being the first.

  And I know just where to start.

  “Father.” I clasp his hand in mine. The two of us joined in unspoken solidarity, when Cade calls to him from across the room.

  At first Leandro ignores him, but it only causes Cade to shout louder. “What do you want?” Leandro barks, making no effort to disguise his annoyance.

  “What do you mean, what do I want? What the hell are you doing with him?” Cade crosses the room in a handful of steps, his voice steeped in outrage, as he says, “You’re not seriously considering giving him his job back, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Leandro spares his son a cursory glance, just long enough to see him visibly relax, before he shifts his focus to me. “I’m giving him your job.”

  “What the—?” Cade stammers. So enraged by the situation, he can barely get to the words. “Are you freaking crazy? Dace hates us! He’s out to destroy us! He’s working with the Seeker. They’ve planned this all along, and you’re playing right into their hands!”

  Leandro meets my gaze straight on. “Is that true?”

  “It was.” I take a moment to acknowledge Cade, reveling in the look of defeat plastered across his face. “But not anymore.” My glowing red eyes confirm what words can’t.

  Leandro turns to Cade, voice filled with loathing as he says, “Clear out your office and make room for your brother. Once that’s done, check in with the kitchen staff and offer your assistance.”

  “No. No way.” Cade is red-faced and furious. “I’ve worked way too hard to let you mess it all up!”

  “No?” Leandro mocks. “No? And just what are you going to do about it? Go ahead, show me why I shouldn’t choose your brother over you. It’s been so long since I, or anyone else for that matter, last saw the real you.”

  Driven by his hatred for me and a true determination to prove himself to Leandro, Cade’s face darkens, his body trembles and shakes. Straining with all that he’s got to make the shift, but the transformation that once happened so easily he could barely contain it will no longer come.

  “Just as I thought.” Regarding his son with a look of blatant contempt, Leandro shakes his head and shoves him aside. “I had high hopes for you, but clearly I overestimated your abilities.”

  “This is bullshit!” Cade shouts. “It’s the worst kind of trick, and you’re falling for it! Dace is—”

  “Dace is the reason you stand here today. Don’t you ever for
get that.” Leandro glowers. His anger so palpable I can actually feel it streaming off him. “First, you do me considerable financial damage when you flooded the tourmaline market. Then you lied about killing the Seeker, and your brother too, for that matter. Then you put this entire family at risk last New Year’s Eve when you couldn’t manage to stop the girl and her crazy father from blowing up the place, after assuring me I didn’t need to get involved because you had it all under control—”

  “But I killed Paloma! Did you seriously forget that? Or maybe you’re determined to ignore it because you’re embarrassed by how easily I succeeded where you failed!”

  Though he does have a point, it only serves to feed Leandro’s rage. His voice lowers to a whisper that’s far more threatening than any scream could ever be. “You’ve made the tragic mistake of thinking you’re one step ahead of me, when the fact is, you have brought shame upon this family by failing it in every conceivable way.” He thumps his son hard in the chest, humiliating Cade to no end. “You are no longer useful to me. No longer a revered member of El Coyote. So pull yourself together, deal with your failings, and show your brother a little respect. So far as I can see, Dace is the only one with any hope of someday replacing me.” Dismissing Cade with an impatient turn of his head, Leandro slides an arm around my shoulders, and says, “Come. We’ll go into my office and nail down the details. By the time we’re finished, your new office should be ready.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  DAIRE

  When the doorbell rings, I instinctively shout for Axel to get it. Remembering too late he’s not home.

  I wipe my hands on the front of my cutoffs and head down the ramp. Only to find Jennika struggling to squeeze through the door.

  “Mom? What are you doing here?” I rush to help. As equally excited to see her as I am flustered by her ability to continually surprise me with her unannounced, ambush-style visits.

  “Told you I’d bring the dresses,” she says. The words muffled by the three puffy garment bags piled so high in her arms they cover most of her face.

  “You told me you’d send the dresses.” I help her unload them onto the couch before moving in for a hug.

  “Send—bring—what’s the difference?” She grins. “The point is, they’re here. And just in time, I might add. Which wasn’t easy—traffic was insane.”

  “You drove?”

  “All the way from the Albuquerque airport. Now, let me get a look at you. It’s been too long since my eyes enjoyed a Daire-sized feast.” She draws away, holding me at arm’s length to better inspect me.

  “And to think it feels like just yesterday when we Skyped,” I quip, trying not to cringe under the glare of her probing assessment.

  “You look tired.” She states the words with the same finality as a judge reading a verdict.

  “Nothing a little concealer can’t fix.” I move to untangle myself from her grip, but she tips her finger to my chin and holds me in place.

  “Not what I meant. You’re as beautiful as ever, and your skin looks amazing. I’m glad to see you’re heeding my warnings and wearing your sunscreen. But, behind your eyes, I sense the fatigue of someone with several decades on you. What’s going on, Daire? I thought you said all was quiet on the Richter front?”

  This time I succeed in pulling away, and I use the moment to steal a quick peek at her ring finger. Relieved to confirm she’s still engaged.

  Jennika has a habit of bolting from anything that hints of commitment. And for the last nine months since I moved to Enchantment, Paloma’s adobe has served as her go-to place whenever things get too heated with her fiancé.

  “How’s Harlan?” I ask, just to confirm they’re still on.

  “Good.” She grins, shoots a hand through hair that’s dyed a pretty, soft blonde with bits of buttery yellow streaking through. Though there’s no telling how long this look will last. Jennika changes her hair color as often as most people change sheets. “He would’ve come, but he’s on location doing an editorial shoot in Goa.”

  “Rough life.” I crack a smile, but it fails to convince.

  “Not nearly as rough as yours.” She folds her thin arms across her chest and continues her inventory. Noting bare feet with toes polished a bright turquoise blue, worn denim cutoffs, a white tank top, and hair swept back into a messy ponytail. Not a whole lot to see, and certainly nothing alarming, still she sees fit to say, “Daire, I’m concerned.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine.” I turn on my heel and make for the kitchen. Thanks to Axel the house is more or less tidy and the fridge is actually full. Last thing I need is for Jennika to see just how chaotic my life has become. Though judging by the look she shoots me when I offer her a cool drink, she’s not fooled.

  “How long are you staying?” I ask, noting she didn’t arrive with any bags. Then again, for all I know her entire stash of worldly belongings is crammed into the trunk of her rental car.

  “Haven’t decided.” She places a hand on her hip and surveys the room. “Guess that depends on you.” She shifts her focus to me, and I can’t help but flinch under such intense scrutiny.

  I can slay demons, stand up to the evilest of Richters, and yet, one knowing look from my mom and I’m coming apart.

  Last January, when we said goodbye, it was with the firm understanding that I’d keep in touch, keep her informed, and she’d leave me to do what I must. While she may not like my being a Seeker, she seemed to accept it as something she could neither interfere with nor change. But now, despite keeping to my end of the deal, she latches onto the flimsiest excuse she can find to show up at the absolute, worst possible time.

  She settles herself at the kitchen table, takes a sip of iced tea, and levels her gaze right on me. “How’s Dace?”

  On the surface, the question is simple, straightforward, packed with no apparent agenda. And yet, it’s pretty much the worst thing she could’ve asked. Dace has become such a hot-button topic, even my friends have stopped referring to him.

  Though that’s not to say I don’t think about him.

  Because I do.

  Nearly every second of every day.

  Dace is always with me, simmering just under the surface. Still, it’s been so long since I’ve talked about him, I’m unsure what to say.

  I stifle a sigh, drop onto the seat opposite hers, and decide to lead with the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s been a while since we last spoke.” My shoulders tense, my fingers twist tightly together, as I wait for her to break into a rousing chorus of the I-told-you-so song.

  Jennika was never a Dace fan. Right from the start she was fully convinced he was put on this earth with the sole task of breaking my heart. While the assessment speaks mostly of her own well-documented fear of commitment—it’s strange how it echoes the prophecy.

  It took a long time for Jennika to come around. And while she never quite embraced our relationship, she did resign herself to the idea of the two of us being together.

  But now, with just a few simple words, I’ve proven her right.

  I pick at the underside of the table, waiting for her to react. Jennika has the tenacity of a pit bull. She will gladly sit here all night if that’s what it takes to get me to spill.

  “Dace and I are on a break.” I cringe when I say it, bracing for one of her sarcastic comebacks. But when she continues the silence, I add, “It’s . . . complicated.”

  “Try me.” The diamond stud in her nose quivers and glints. Her green eyes meet mine.

  I swallow hard, grasp the edge of the table so hard the table’s wood grain leaves marks on my skin. I don’t want to discuss it. Can’t bear to say the words. And yet, next thing I know, I’m spilling the whole sordid tale. The words spewing so quickly I’ve no time to vet them.

  To her credit, Jennika refrains from all comment. She just nods, sips her tea, and sighs in all the appropriate places, until I’m all out of words, all out of breath, and she lifts her chin and says, “Well, you know what you have to do, right?
”

  I push away from the table, tilt my chair back on two legs in the way that she hates. “I know what I’m going to do. And, if you’re like everyone else, it’s not even close to what you’re thinking.” The words are sharp, but not nearly as sharp as the accusing look on my face.

  I was sure she’d follow the usual Jennika script. Use my tale of woe to gloat, tell me she knew it all along. I never expected her to highjack my pain as a teachable moment to reinforce how I need to take down my boyfriend.

  “You’re acting as though you have a choice, when clearly you don’t.” She runs a slow finger around the rim of her glass.

  “According to who?” I start to say more, start to say something I’ll surely live to regret—but then I think better, and talk myself down. Getting upset won’t do any good. If anything, it will only serve to prove her point. If she thinks I’m being irrational, then it’s my job to prove just the opposite.

  “If Dace is fated to go dark—fated to kill you along with everyone else—then I can’t see what you can possibly do to change that. It’s your duty to protect the citizens of Enchantment, Daire, or at least that’s the story you once told me. If you fail to keep the three worlds in balance . . . well, I can’t even imagine the result. There is too much at stake, you can’t allow yourself to be led by your heart!”

  “It’s my duty to protect the citizens of Enchantment, yes, and, in case you’ve forgotten, that includes Dace! Sheesh, Jennika, I thought out of everyone, you’d be the one who might understand. Nice to know you’re against me as well.”

  “I’m not against you, Daire, I’m merely against your decision. I think you’re being reckless, dangerous, woefully misguided, and I’m begging you to reconsider.” She pushes away from the table and carries her glass to the sink. Leaning against the tiled counter, she turns and says, “Daire, I get that you love him. I get that it’s your first love, which makes it all the more powerful. But if I hear you correctly, then Dace isn’t really Dace anymore. He’s not the boy you fell for. He’s being eroded by this . . . beast, as you call it. And it won’t be long before there’s not a trace of him left. You need to deal with that now, get it straight in your head before it’s too late. You need to prepare yourself for the hard choices to come. You need to be ready to face the inevitable.”