The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (40 page)

“I promise this will only hurt for a minute. Now, come to me, child.” He flicked a finger, and my feet carried me toward him, unresisting.

I glanced up at the decayed teeth that colored the puppeteer’s savage grin and gasped. “No.”

“Good
girl.”

I could see the dark space of the door behind him. Xavier held a small twisted dagger in one hand and a clay bowl in the other as my feet stopped me well within his grasp. Suddenly a spark of neon aqua blazed in the blackness behind him. It was on the move, growing bigger, coming toward
us.

I dragged my eyes back to Xavier, who snatched my wrist with icy fingers and made a small, slow incision with the knife. I screamed as pain far greater than the cut itself racked my body and he squeezed my wrist, forcing the gushing blood into the bowl. When it covered the bottom of the bowl, he stopped, satisfied. I clamped my hand around my wound, but warm thickness still oozed between my fingers as he slit and squeezed his own wrist. Blackish blood drizzled out of his wrist and into the bowl, slowing to a trickle on its own. He held up the
bowl.

“Drink this,” he ordered.

“No. Don’t, please. I can’t,” I begged
weakly.

“DRINK
IT!”

My traitor body moved on its own again. I brought the rim to my lips, and hot blood touched my tongue. I pulled it away, gagging. Xavier yanked my head back and forced my mouth open, pouring the thick blood into my half-closed mouth. I choked as the sour, metallic contents flowed like lava down my throat. Xavier released me after the last drop and I fell to the floor, coughing. I struggled against his compulsion, my stomach trying to retch the horrible mixture up, and my throat closed against
it.

I looked up at a loud thud, my stomach muscles still pulsing to get the foreign contents out, and caught sight of Xavier’s body slamming into the wall across the room with another dull crunch. Lucas was suddenly at my side, swooping me up and out of the room before I could convince my arms to hold on to
him.

Lucas’s tattoo tinted our faces blue in the swallowing blackness of the hallway. I felt wet blood soaking the collar of his shirt and tried to press the wound more tightly against his back. Lucas had turned a corner when I heard the executioners’ whispers.

“Lucas!” I warned as their voices got
louder.

“Shh.” He held me more closely to him as he sped into the darkness.

I was wondering how he could see in the dark when a barely visible executioner tackled Lucas from behind. I slipped from Lucas’s hands and crashed against the wall with a crunch. The unknown band on my head clattered to the floor, and warm fluid dripped down my temple. I tried to get up, but my battered body refused.

I looked toward the blue glow that was Lucas, head throbbing. He was already standing, struggling to break free from the fleshy dead that clung to him like leeches. He looked up for me, but when he found me, a look of absolute fear changed his face. It frightened
me.

“No!” he screamed, reaching for me, but a cold, thin grip cinched my ankle and pulled. I skidded back, stomach scraping the rock, hands scrambling for purchase as the cold grip dragged me into darkness.

“LUCAS!” I watched him, nails clawing against stone, until the glow of his tattoo was no longer visible.

I felt my body leave the ground and sail through ebony air to land like a ragdoll on damp stone. I winced at an excruciating pop in my right shoulder. I tried to push myself upright, legs kicked off to the side, but I fell to my side. My right collarbone ached, and the throbbing in my head was uncontrollable as Mictlan tried to get back in. The gash on my wrist stung as I listened to my short breaths and decided that this was a different room than the first. Its suffocating stillness felt smaller.

Then Xavier lit a wick and stepped over me, tiny flame in one hand and the dagger in the other. He set the candle in a wall niche above what I realized was another stone
altar.

“First, the virgin must drink the blood. Next, the heart of the virgin,” he chanted, and then he raised the dagger high and recited a phrase in another language.

“No,” I cried, dizzy. “Don’t do this, please.”

His chanting continued, and some invisible force lifted me again and slammed me down onto the stone altar. Something cracked in my back, followed by withering pain, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My right collarbone was pulsing, screaming at me. I followed his dark figure around the room with fuzzy eyesight and black stars circling
around.

“No, Xavier,” I panted, choking on the blood curdling behind my
throat.

At a jerk of his chin, my arms swept agonizingly up over my head, and he held them with one hand as his other brought the rust-colored blade down. It pierced my chest like a thousand burning blades. I screamed as the blade ate through my flesh. But as the burning ate deeper into my chest, an explosion jerked his hands away. My hands suddenly freed, I saw Xavier thrown against the wall beside the altar and pinned there by some unseen mass. The blood-tipped dagger fell to the
floor.

“Tita!” he roared, flailing against the invisible
force.

As he struggled to reach me, I tried to stand but just collapsed at the foot of the altar. The rushing wind felt warm on my chest, and I knew I was colder than I should be. Then Lucas was at my side, one arm behind my neck while the other brushed blood-sticky hair away from my chest. I gasped raggedly and watched him as he inspected the wound, afraid I was already slipping away. Without a glance at the pinned god, Lucas cradled me gently and
fled.

He turned into a hall where gray light slanted in through tiny square windows. I looked through them. Dark clouds hovered low outside, creating a misty haze that foamed through the windows and dewed our skin. As he passed another niche, an arctic chill slithered around my wounded wrist and tugged. I screamed as the freezing tourniquet seemed to peel the flesh off my wrist and pulled my arm straight. Lucas raced into a hall too narrow for him to twist me away, and the hand dug harder into my torn
skin.

“Dylan!” he roared over my screams, windows blurring to wisps as he ran with inhuman
speed.

Rock exploded through the outer wall, firing shards like bullets around us. My ears rang with Xavier’s angry screams, and the cold hand released
me.

We were climbing now, Lucas’s knees bashing into my throbbing back, and then we emerged atop the pyramid. The saturated air was warm on my freezing skin, which helped take the edge off the cold invading my core, but it was impossible to see anything in the thick clouds around
us.

Lucas arrowed toward the edge of the roof, and I screamed, “Lucas, no!”

But he leaped. My stomach dropped as we arced away from the pyramid’s point and then plummeted toward the inky waves of executioners surging below. Miraculously we hit grass, not grasping skeletal hands, and my heartbeat spiked as Lucas clenched me more tightly and we fled the infestation down a green-carpeted
street.

The storm swirled angrily around the grass-covered stone buildings. I burrowed my face into his chest, legs hanging limply to the side, as lightning stabbed through the pursuing executioners. Suddenly Malik was running at our side in the tempest. Still the executioners gained ground, and as a shield of light blinded me, I felt Lucas’s chest warm and wet with my blood. I dropped my head against him, feeling the last energy drain from
me.

“Lucas, I’m so cold,” I quavered.

“We’re almost there, baby.”

Just then heavy raindrops hit my skin, stinging in my open cuts like saltwater. I bit my lip and cringed, but ahead of us, in an open field roiling with gray smoke, I saw three blurry aqua lights glowing.

“Lucas, you’ve got something that belongs to me,” came Xavier’s raging voice from behind
us.

I lifted my head to look over Lucas’s shoulder. Xavier descended the ancient temple stairs slowly, hands outstretched, as if he expected Lucas to turn around and deliver me to him. Lucas held to his course, his family almost within reach, but there was a new coldness in my body that felt like icicles prickling through my numb
limbs.

“Lucas, my connection isn’t with Xavier. It’s with Mictlan,” I said
feebly.

The calm pace of his heart, so close to my ear, picked up. “What?”

“Spare Xavier. He doesn’t matter,” I forced out with one precious breath, wondering if I’d have another chance to tell
him.

The smoky field was an overgrown arena where moss-covered stairs ascended the perimeter like bleachers. The aqua glow resolved into Andrés, Valentina, and Gabriella, battling executioners in a whirl of gray dust.
Are Dylan and Tita hurt? Where are they?
It was hard to focus as dull cold invaded my
brain.

Valentina was rushing toward us. “Is she hurt?” I heard her gasp as her eyes darted to my
chest.

“Mom!” Gabriella shouted.

I swiveled my head to where dark creatures swarmed the green grass of the court. Gabriella was yards away, drawing another lethal arrow. She nocked it, aimed, and shot. Black dust exploded, and she reloaded as even more executioners advanced. Valentina looked murderous as she slammed her hands down. I closed my eyes, feeling the burn of bolts striking through every shadowed knot of sinew and bone that surrounded us. When the light turned gray again, I opened my
eyes.

Andrés rose from the ground, shaking off the dust of the attackers that had pinned him down.
“Gracias, mi
amor.”

“Where’s Tita?” Gabriella asked urgently as she joined us in the middle of the
field.

“Right here,” Tita called, running in from the direction Lucas and I had just come. Niya trailed her. “Xavier’s on our
tail.”

“Zara’s connection isn’t with Xavier,” Lucas
cried.

“What?” Andrés asked in
shock.

Valentina breathed deeply and touched Andrés’s arm lightly. “
Amor,
let us call on Xquic then,
por favor
. Let us
try.”

Andrés glanced at Tita, questioning. “Is it possible?”

She nodded fervently. “It must be done quickly, though. Andrés, call on Xquic. Lucas, Dylan, and I will handle Xavier when she arrives. Valentina and Gabriella, you two keep us clear and wait for my word. As soon as I say so, you must seal the portal quickly or it won’t
work.”

Andrés nodded and dashed into the
fog.

Lucas lowered me to the ground. I tried to cling harder, my frail fingers digging into his skin, but a sudden riff of pressure made my hands jerk to my
chest.

“Lucas, no. Don’t leave me!” I whimpered, clasping my hands more tightly over my heart against the burning
rain.

Thunder rolled through the clouds as Valentina prepared her defenses with a blank face. Niya and Malik pulled lips back to bare sharp teeth and roared, then bounded into the approaching front of executioners. Tita ran behind them, while Dylan raced around to catch them from behind. He struck with unbelievable speed, engaging one monster even as he yanked the heart from another’s
chest.

Lucas knelt by my side and gently swiped the hair out of my face. Then he looked up, and my eyes shifted to Xavier’s pale figure walking down the broken street. Lucas stood with a vengeful
snort.

“I have to finish this. You’ll be fine with Mother,” he reassured me, angling himself to stand between Xavier and
me.

I reached up for him, but Lucas had already picked up a boulder. With impossible speed, he threw it at Xavier. The impact pushed Xavier back twenty feet. Lucas had another already in
hand.

“Good one, bro!” Dylan yelled from the court’s green steps, hoisting another boulder. He aimed it at Xavier and threw without hesitation. I winced at the crunching sound of Xavier’s body driven into the ground. Even if I wanted him to stay clear of us, the sound of shattering bone was too
much.

Tita appeared at Lucas’s side. “Push him back to the pyramid!”

But Xavier had cracked a stone off a ruin near his feet and barreled it at Lucas. Lucas caught it, barely protecting me from the blow, and chucked it right back with fresh-stoked anger. Xavier dodged, and it only nicked his shoulder, but he staggered forward as Dylan landed a slab on his back. Lucas and Dylan showered stone after stone upon him. I watched, aching, as he struggled to his feet and retreated, the other two in pursuit. Tita followed them, keeping the platoon of executioners off their
backs.

As the distance between us grew, the horde of executioners grew denser, now a black wall around us. I squirmed as Valentina and Gabriella dealt death through the downpour. Niya and Malik were visible only as flashes of black in the field of smoky warriors. As Lucas, Dylan, and Xavier battled closer to the pyramid, increasingly clouded by fog, I grew doubtful.
I’m not losing Lucas over
Xavier.

“Gabriella,” I wheezed, my vision weaker still in the falling sheets of water. “The arrows . . . shoot . . . Xavier.”

“They won’t work on him,” she shouted back as she nocked and drew in one graceful motion and shot another attacker. “He’s stronger
now.”

I glanced back at Lucas, afraid for his life. Then a gust of wind warmed me. I could see Andrés back in our circle, accompanying a woman with light caramel skin and black braided hair. When she turned to me, I held my breath. She was beautiful.

“This is her,” Andrés
said.

Xavier’s mother came to me in a burst of wind, splattering raindrops against my face. She knelt by my side, indifferent to the rain, and looked into my face with piercing
eyes.

“Do you know who I
am?”

I forced a stiff nod of my
head.

Her hand touched the soaking wound in my chest softly. Deep red greased her fingertips. She held it to her nose and sniffed. “Xavier grows stronger.”

She stood and looked toward the battle in the distance. “I go now with them. Take the sacrifice; get her
safe.”

I did not expect the drumbeat that burst into my ears as Xavier made a move for me, coming through the storm like an unstoppable train. As I shrieked, Lucas intercepted and tackled him to the wet sod. There was a sudden ringing in my ears as Xquic rushed to
them.