The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (4 page)

BOOK: The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1)
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I crossed the small dining room, headed up the stairs, and went directly to their table. It still smelled like a tropical oasis. I inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with the sweet scent as I set each drink down before its owner. They didn’t notice, or didn’t acknowledge them as they watched me silently, observing my every move with steady eyes as if I was the most interesting thing they’d seen in a long
time.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked in a rush as I set the last drink
down.

“That will be it for now, thank you,” Lucas
said.

He was leaning closer to me. I got nervous briefly, thinking that maybe we had met before. I couldn’t imagine I’d forget a face like his. “Do I know
you?”

“No.” He shook his head modestly.

I looked to everyone. They all had smirks on their
faces.

“The other waitress said you asked for me to be your server. I just assumed we knew each other,” I
said.

“We don’t. We heard you were a great waitress,” the mother said with a
nod.

She seemed sincere, but I had to force a smile past the bad feeling worming into my stomach. “Oh. Well, again, my name is Zara. I will be back later to check on
you.”

I felt their eyes on my back as I walked away. I stayed on the upper level, serving tables for people who
did
decide to bowl, but I couldn’t help peeking at them throughout the night. The exotic strangers laughed and talked, argued most of the time, but never bowled, all while pretending they weren’t watching me. Eventually their inconspicuous glances stopped—except for those from the boy, Lucas. His blue eyes found mine wherever I was. I began to stare back, frustrated, hoping he would get the hint he was staring too much, but it didn’t matter. My stare couldn’t break his
focus.

He was the last to leave at closing. When I went to their area to clean up, there was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill in the center of the table. My heart stopped. I snatched up the bill and ran out the door to thank them, but only my car and another employee’s car were there. I tucked the bill carefully into my pocket and went back inside to clean
up.

Bri and I finished putting the bowling balls away, tidied up the dining area, and were free to leave in thirty minutes. It was almost one in the morning when we hopped into my
car.

“Since when are you and Tommy together?” I asked as Bri slid into the passenger
seat.

“Since two weeks ago. Anyways, what’s happening with
Jett?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about
it.”

Night in the dark mountains was still and cool. I had just pulled onto I-50 when a deep beat began pulsing somewhere inside me. It wasn’t my heart, but something entirely different, like a deep thumping of bass inside my chest. It
hurt.

“Do you hear that?” I interrupted Bri midsentence. I could hear myself panting over my rising heartbeat.

“Hear
what?”

It swelled inside my chest and pounded again. It felt like a heart attack. When I reached for my chest, my hand slipped off the wheel and the car swerved.

“Zara! What are you doing?” Bri yelled, grabbing the wheel. I slammed on the brakes, and we swerved into the ditch. She looked at me, confused, as I pressed my head tightly against the headrest, my body frozen by
pain.

“Are you okay?” Bri
asked.

There was pressure under the bridge of my nose, and my chest heaved up and down—then the pain vanished. “I think
so.”

I stared at the portion of road illuminated by my headlights and took long, slow breaths. Finally I grabbed the wheel shakily and pulled back onto the highway.

Bri watched me, unsure. “You’re scaring
me.”

“No, really. I’m fine,” I assured her, tightening my hands on the
wheel.

When I looked back at her, blackness began surrounding me, rushing my body into a state of cold oblivion.

I woke on my back on rocky ground, grass poking up between loose stones. My skin burned as the rush of blood returned to my limbs. The air around me was moist, making my skin stick to whatever pressed against
it.

It was midday. The sky was orange, and black figures flew in a line overhead like puffs of smoke. Suddenly the sound of a baritone horn filled the air, and the figures turned and headed toward it. I tried sitting up to see where they were going, but my body began shaking
hard.

I woke again to a dark street in front of me. “Zara!” Bri cried. She was nearly on top of me as she held the wheel. My vision was hazy, my head pounding as I tried to regain my bearings. “You blacked out! Pull over, now!”

I looked at her: my head was still spinning, but I grabbed the wheel again as she maneuvered her body back into her seat and looked out the windshield.

“LOOK OUT!” she screamed, pointing to the front
window.

A black figure stood in the beam of our headlights. I slammed my foot on the brakes, but they locked and the car began to skid. The smell of burning rubber filled the car as we screeched across the asphalt. The man didn’t move, and as we neared him, I cranked the wheel to the right as fast as possible to avoid him. We screamed as the car spun out of control.

As we skidded closer to the unmoving figure, I thought he was done for. I expected him to bounce up onto the windshield and shatter the window into thousands of tiny pieces. But the briefest second before impact, my door rushing directly at him, I
saw

It was not a
man.

When the Acura hit the . . . being, it was like hitting a tree rooted in the center of the road. The metal bent like a straw, and my head slammed into my window. I heard the glass shatter to splinters half a second before the car began to flip. When I looked out my window, frightened, the figure stared back with a grin. It was a thing strung together by woodsy veins; a halo of smoke surrounded it. Half the flesh on its face was missing, distorted by grayish bone, and its beady eyes glinted, deep in dark-hollowed eye sockets. In that split second, as fear ripped through me and blood rushed from my head, I believed it wanted to be
hit.

I awoke again, lying flat, my belly against the roof of my car, my head facing the broken window and the road. Agonizing pain pounded relentlessly on the left side of my head. More followed when I tried to move. I was
stuck.

“Bri?” I could barely hear
myself.

She didn’t
answer.

It hurt to talk, and it hurt to keep myself awake, but I tried to focus on where I was. The car’s headlights were still on, shining at a diagonal into the dark woods. Suddenly, a black shadow darted through the beam, more quickly than I could take a breath, from one corner of the light to the other and into the blackened forest. My body jerked, instinctively trying to wiggle loose, but soon the pain was unbearable.

As my body slipped into coldness, the dark figure reappeared in the headlights’ beam. The black silhouette stood unmoving, staring at me. My blurred vision turned it into a living ink puddle, its edges wavering iridescent in the distance. I blinked hard, fear rising as I realized it wasn’t my vision that made it blur. There were no clear details to its figure at all—it was simply fuzzy. And its stare alarmed every nerve in my body. Before I could constrain my fear, the thing began moving
closer.

I tried to cry out, but excruciating pain stole my voice. My neck felt crushed, like something was on top of me. Warm fluid dripped down it. I whimpered. I was afraid, and it was getting
colder.

Then I heard a new noise. I held my breath, recognizing the sound of glass crunching on the asphalt next to the car. It was hope. The sound grew closer to my window, coming from behind, and my spirits lifted.
I’m saved!
But strangely, no one called to me. I was about to plead for help, thinking they didn’t know I was there, when suddenly the legs of a mysterious man stopped at the front of my window and faced the hazy creature at the other end of the
street.

I trembled as I stared at the legs. They were still as I looked past them to the figure across the road. The thing was looking right at both of us. I tried to wiggle free, but it hurt worse. Couldn’t this person see that it wasn’t human? I lifted my arm to touch his leg, to warn him, but the weight of my eyelids was getting unbearable. I used all my energy to blink, creating flashes of cold air to keep my eyes open, but my lids slipped shut again no matter how hard I
tried.

I forced them open again, my vision doubling shapes, when I heard the man speak in a near whisper. I could sense the threat in his tone . . . and I recognized that voice. I blinked once more and caught the creature disappearing into the forest at a speed too quick to
follow.

I felt the coma coming. It deepened into my body, and the world fell silent. I tried to remember where I had heard that voice before, even as unconsciousness settled in. But everything happened so fast. His shoes. Something about his shoes. My eyes turned slowly to his feet. They wore a youthful brand of sneakers, tied loosely, the color blue. Before I could call to him, my eyes slid
shut.

I pried them open one last time and saw him bent down, his weight on his hands as he leaned into my car through the window. Those cerulean eyes had a twinkle in them, even though it didn’t match the worry on his face. He was talking to me urgently, fearfully even. But I couldn’t hear him over the shallow echoes of my own breath. It was clear who he was, but what was he doing
here?

A bluish light blinded my sensitive eyes. It was his tattoo; something was wrong with it. It glowed. I stared at it as the cold began settling in my bones. I tried hard to stay with him, but I couldn’t, and the neon tattoo was the last thing I saw before fading away for
good.

Lucas

CHAPTER THREE

Triggered

Niya and Malik greeted us as Dylan and I entered our private quarters at half past midnight. They could smell the blood on my shirt, and knew fully that it was her blood. They lingered, sniffing her scent as we ran upstairs to the kitchen. Everyone was seated at the table, waiting irritably for the
news.

“Is it done?” Father asked. His fingertips touched lightly, his hands forming a temple. He did this when he was anxious.

I nodded and walked to the sink to wash the dried blood from my
arms.

“Any trouble?” he proceeded.

“No, there was only one executioner. I chased him away while Lucas pulled the girls out of the car,” Dylan answered as he sat next to Gabriella.

“Did the girls see anything?” Mother asked. She seemed nervous
too.

I focused on the blood beneath my fingernails. I hated that Gabriella and I’d had five hundred years to get to know each other. She knew me too well. I wiped the blood away slowly with the white rag and shook my head side to
side.

“The fifty-second saw,” she spat out, proving my lie. “Oh, this was not a good idea. I knew we should have let her
go.”

“Gabriella,
silencio
!” Father barked. “Dylan, was she enchanted?”

“Of course. I blocked her memory for good,” Dylan stated as he glared at his wife, appalled by her
doubt.

“But Andrés, she is the one. She is the fifty-second of the prophecy,” Tita argued across the
table.

Her face was soft compared to the fierce bone structure my family and I had, like a green apple among elite reds, but she was still like family. I looked at her apologetically, feeling bad that I was the only one who believed her. I dried my hands on the towel and sat next to her at the rectangular
table.

“Though you are certain of your knowledge, I am not. Please understand that these are all precautionary measures until we have decided for sure that she really is the one. We are simply buying more time,” Father
said.

“Time that is not ours,
Papa
. We are not allowed to interfere, you know that!” Gabriella retorted.

“Papa, Zara Moss
is
the fifty-second,” I said, though I hadn’t any reason to explain my strong feelings for this human. Lately it seemed I was reacting from my heart rather than my head—and they knew it. And I knew that it was
wrong.

“Are you sure, Lucas?” Father
asked.

I wanted more than anything to say yes. Zara was beautiful, but I wasn’t sure yet, even after Tez and Tita assured me she was it. Not sure enough to risk our
lives.

Tita turned to me with disbelief. She sensed my hesitation. “Lucas?”

“Tita, I think I need more time too,” I admitted, feeling ashamed.


Excelente
!” Gabriella laughed. “Let’s all just take our time and keep this girl alive. You all are
stupidos
!”


Calmate
,” Dylan said softly. He was the only one of us able to talk my sister down. She shot him a glare, but she pursed her lips and folded her arms as she sat down and shut
up.

“Gabriella, do not forsake the stars’ movement,” Father said. “The alignment is happening as was foretold. We will know soon enough if Zara is the one. But for now we wait. No one intervenes with an executioner unless it is on my orders. If we are caught, I will take the blame so that you all may be
saved.”


Amor
, that is never going to happen.” Mother rested her hand firmly on Father’s and then turned to me. “How was the girl
left?”

“I pulled her and her friend out of the car, laid them safely off the road, then called the emergency line. Dylan and I waited in the trees until help arrived. They’re
safe.”

“Very good.” She paused, thinking. “I propose that for the time being we enroll the kids in college.”

“What?” Gabriella seemed shocked. “Again?”

“Yes. It would be better to watch her more closely there for the time being. Keep her out of danger; get to know what is so special about her. Tita, you can return home so that you may give us news of the
portal.”

Tita looked to Father with a plea. “Andrés, you are making a mistake. She
is
the one. Remember, the advantage is not ours until she chooses our side. If she were to be taken to the Underworld and Mictlan discovers her true identity, they may form the connection that could kill us
all.”

“That may be, but we will not interfere unless we are positive. That is a direct order,” Father said. Tita bowed her head in submission, and everyone remained
quiet.

My chair screeched across the floor as I stood. “I am retiring for the night. Mother, Father, I will go to school, but I am unsure what it is exactly you are looking for in
her.”

“A connection, of course,” Mother replied. “If she is the one, one of us may feel a closer bond with her. Look closely at how your powers feel when near her. Are they weakened? Are they stronger? Or perhaps it is she who will change. Does she see us for who we are? Remember, love is a true characteristic of divinity. If she nurtures such a powerful quality within her for one of us, surely there will be something about her that will be
unique.”


Si, Mama
,” I said as I left the kitchen.

I walked to the telescope by my bedroom window. Out of habit, I looked to the stars, toward the spirits of our people, those who watch over all, who know all. I searched their movements more closely for answers. The Milky Way was approaching, as it was prophesied, but it was too early to tell anything. It was frustrating. I had waited for this moment for hundreds of years, and I still felt left in the
dark.

Ahau said I was good at predictions, but the power of conversation with the spirits’ realm I had never possessed. I knew Ahau was with them now, watching over me, and I wished more than anything to talk to
him.

I changed out of the bloody shirt and flopped on the bed with my arms folded behind my head, worrying about Zara. By now she would be in the hospital.
Tomorrow I will get Dylan to come with me to the hospital to check on
her.

I shut my eyes to meditate. I didn’t need rest like I used to, but I still liked the peacefulness that sleep brought. Hours later, I realized I was restless. I needed to be with her sooner rather than later. I went downstairs and knocked on Dylan and Gabriella’s door. Gabriella answered.

“What do you want, Lucas?” she asked harshly.

I peeped over her shoulder, looking for Dylan. He sat by the lamp, staring blankly at the television. “Dylan. We need to go to the hospital, now.”

“Now?” he asked, already standing, eager to escape his midnight boredom.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Just get ready,” I said, then I walked
away.

My relationship with Dylan wasn’t always like this. I was once intimidated by his godliness and kept a lot of things to myself. I never made such demands of him. However, I am now immortal, and we are brothers.

I headed downstairs to the large garage and waited in my car. I didn’t pick this car, a Lexus LFA; the Aluxes delivered it when we arrived from Switzerland after the fifty-first was taken. Aluxes always chose fast sports cars, usually ones that were hard to get on the open market. We didn’t live for money or fame, but a smooth car was one luxury we had, thanks to them. Dylan appeared a moment later, the Lexus’s white door soft as he shut it. I revved the engine and backed out of the
garage.

“What are you looking for?” he
asked.

“Anything,” I uttered, plunging the car through the dark
woods.

The hospital windows were bright-lit squares in the mountain’s darkness. I knew that her parents were there. It was too soon after the accident for me to have come, but I couldn’t ignore the force that pressed me forward. I had to see her
again.

“How much time do you need?” Dylan asked as he opened the
door.

“Two minutes.”

We entered through the emergency entrance on the side. Civilians watched nosily as we pushed through the
Do Not Enter
door. Dylan stayed a few steps behind me, enchanting questioning personnel. As we roamed the halls, I overheard a doctor on the third floor say Zara’s name and knew right where to go. He rattled on to a nurse about Zara’s injuries, how they should have been worse.
Dylan will have to take care of him too. Suspicious humans never amounted to anything
good.

We went up the stairs to avoid any more interactions. The less we were seen, the fewer people Dylan had to trick. He didn’t like tricking people if he could avoid it. I opened the door a crack to count the humans on the floor; too many to move at our natural speed. We would hit someone for sure. We would have to walk at a human’s
pace.

“How many?” Dylan
asked.

“Twelve . . . no, thirteen. Zara is in room 321. Follow me, get her parents out, and leave me for two minutes. I will meet you at the car. Anyone who sees us must be changed. No exceptions. And don’t forget that nosy doctor and the nurse,” I whispered.

Dylan stepped through the door carelessly. “Please, who do you think I
am?”

I rushed past him, not in the mood for his games. “Just do it, Dylan.”

He followed my trail to her room, down the tile corridor and to the right. Her door was wide open, but we stopped abruptly in the doorway as her parents turned to
us.

“Who are you?” her dad asked, his face red from
tears.

“I am a friend of Zara’s,” I answered, walking in without making eye contact. My eyes belonged to Zara now. They locked on to her, asleep on the bed. I passed her father and stopped by her side. There were tubes all around her—one in her mouth, one in her arm, and one in her nose. I wanted to yank them
out.

“Just wait a minute!” her father said, his voice
rising.

I ignored him. I heard him take one step toward me before he stopped, then both her parents moved in the opposite direction. Dylan escorted them out. The last thing I heard was her mom chuckling at some joke of Dylan’s, then I tuned everything
out.

The room was dark except for a halo of white light over her bed that made her look angelic. Her blonde hair spread across the pillow and down alongside her arms, rippling in soft waves. The patches of skin not scraped in the crash were perfect. I lifted my hand to touch her, but I stopped. I wasn’t sure why I needed to touch her. I’d never had any desire to touch a sacrifice. But I couldn’t ignore my pounding heart. I gulped nervously and lifted a hand to
hers.

I hadn’t felt much physically for hundreds of years, but a sting pricked my fingers and sent weird vibes to my brain. Unfamiliar images flickered behind my closed eyelids. As one image flashed rapidly to the next, my head began to hurt—then I saw the orange sky and let go. I backed away, shocked, and quickly checked the clock. I was almost out of
time.

She lay there still, helpless. It angered me that I didn’t have time to touch her again and that she would not remember anything. I had lost that argument at Lucky Pin, when everyone decided if we were to save her, it would only be if Dylan could enchant her, a trick to compel humans to believe what he wants them to believe. He wanted her to forget what she saw at the crash. I was forced to settle—it was better than letting the executioner take
her.

Footsteps down the hall broke into my thoughts. I swept a stray hair out of her eyes and vanished, the feel of her skin tickling my fingertips as I rushed downstairs.

When Dylan met me at the car, dawn was approaching. The horizon of this city was beautiful above the lake, but it made me miss my own horizon, my home across the
ocean.

“Dylan, she’s the one,” I stated as I sped through the waking
town.

“How do you
know?”

“I saw something when I touched
her.”

Her touch, so fresh in my mind, triggered a new drive, and my body tensed thinking of it. It left me wanting the satisfaction of pleasure, another thing I hadn’t desired in ages. Now it consumed every piece of me, head to toe. As Dylan opened his mouth to respond, I cringed. I knew his worry, and I knew Zara, my new physical trigger, was bad news. This feeling possessed me. It controlled me. But he didn’t know that with these lustful components came focus and determination, a sense of possession.

“You touched her!” His roar made my jaw
harden.

I gripped the wheel harder. “Of course. I’m not afraid.”
And damned if I’ll let anyone else have
her.

“Don’t let your royalty go to your head. We aren’t in charge anymore. The Celestials can find out these sorts of
things.”

“Look, we need to find out, don’t we? I’m not going to sit around and wait,” I
argued.

“Yes, you are. Your father is going to be angry with
you.”

I ignored him, along with every rule that I had broken. “What color did you say the sky in Xibalba
was?”

He turned to me, confused. “Why?”

“Because I think I saw it when I touched
her.”

“Orange.” Dylan leaned back in the seat and shook his head with an unbelieving laugh. “Did you see my brother?”

“No.” The tires spun as I turned onto the hidden dirt road that led to our quarters in the woods. “I’m dropping you and the car off, then I’m going for a
walk.”

“Where?”

“I need to know more of her to make sense of some things. I’m going to her room before her parents get back from the hospital.”

He chuckled at my perseverance. “Fine, brother. Don’t get
caught.”

“Never.”

I felt unstoppable.

BOOK: The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1)
11.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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