The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (18 page)

“Would you like some more?” I
asked.

“No, thank you. I’m
full.”

I suddenly became restless with what I was about to tell her. I had never dreamed, in the five hundred years I’d lived, that I would be sharing my life story with
anyone.

“Zara, I need to know that I can trust you. I will fully disclose to you what you want and need to know, but it stays between us. Trust me when I say it’s not just for your protection, but for the protection of everyone you know as well. I must have your word that you will never reveal to anyone what I am about to tell
you.”

For the first time that night, my
viuda negra
smiled easily and turned back into the
muñeca
I loved—my doll, so clean and pure and trusting—as she said, “I promise.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” I said, relieved, and I stood. “Then we’d better be on our way. There is much to tell
you.”

Her elation flared and lit an ember in my heart, a new sensation. I stared at her in awe, wondering what else she was doing to me, until it blew up into sparks and I realized it was the feeling of companionship.
So this is what it feels like.
I offered my hand, unable to let go of my smile. “
Muñeca
?”

Her hand was shaking in mine. I lowered my thumb over the back of her hand and squeezed gently to ease her nerves. Looking into my eyes with a blind trust that made me fall even harder for her, she tossed the blanket on the loveseat, never even looking back as we headed to the
car.

“Have you ever seen Venus?” I asked as we turned onto Tahoe Boulevard.

“Venus?”

“I sort of grew up watching the stars and planets. There was a priest who taught me how to follow it when I was a boy. I used to wake up almost every morning before the sun rose just so I could see it for the few short minutes that it was
there.”

There was a pleasant silence as we drove along the lake toward the canyon. The sky was now darkening to blue, forcing me to turn on the headlights.

“Lucas?” she
asked.

“Yes?”

“What does ‘vanquisher of evil’ mean?”

I considered her determination through the red glare of the dashboard. I knew she would not budge on this, so I tried to answer as simply as possible. “It means
I
am not the bad
guy.”

“I didn’t know there were
bad guys
and
good guys
,” she
joked.

I laughed. “And I didn’t know there was a human so interested in the dangerous undiscovered.”

We both smiled, and she turned to look out the
window.

“Where are we going?” she asked, watching the city lights turn to black tree
trunks.

“To a clearing where we can see the stars
better.”

Zara’s heart was pounding louder than the
engine.

“Are you scared?” I asked. I was ready to turn the car
around.

“No. Well, a
little.”

“How about you tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in the gaps,” I offered, trying to ease her stress and her abnormal heart
rate.

“All right.” She wiped her hands along her lap, sat up, and inhaled deeply. “First . . . those shadows are demons from hell.” She shot a glance at me, but when I only looked amused, she went on reluctantly. “I read somewhere that they’re Aztec ghosts who come to Earth to take people for sacrifice. I suppose I don’t understand why me . . . or why anybody.”

When I didn’t respond, she pointed up two fingers before continuing. “Next is about you, but you’re tricky. Obviously you are from the same realm as the demons, like you said, but I also think you are a god.” She paused to watch my unchanging expression. “I read about Celestial gods who came down to Earth, so at first I thought you were one of them. But then I read about a different type of god . . . one I’ve never heard of before . . . a vanquisher of evil or a warrior god. Those gods have markings on their skin like your tattoo, which is why I think you are one of them. Although no one has ever believed that they even exist. Anyway, if that’s what you are . . . you’re a legend.” The first difficult steps taken, she continued without
fear.

“You’re supposed to protect Earth by saving the victims taken for human sacrifice, which is why you came here, to protect me. But I don’t understand why the demons keep coming
back.”

“And lastly,” she said, holding up a third finger, “there is a witch involved in this somehow. I saw a picture of one in the burgundy book, and she looked identical to the girl that was with you at the Lucky
Pin.”

Her light body bumped into the passenger door as I fishtailed on a sharp corner, my landmark for the small group of trees ahead that disguised my little
road.

“Sorry. I’m not used to driving with anyone else in the car,” I admitted as she rubbed her shoulder. “Your story sounds pretty good, but you’re wrong on a few
things.”

“What do you
mean?”

“Your discoveries are
skewed.”

Suddenly, looking at Zara made my throat swell, and I started to choke. It was time to take the plunge. I focused on turning onto the hidden road, lowering my speed as the track turned to mud. I felt sick saying
this.

“Zara, I didn’t come to Tahoe to save
you.”

I let there be silence, but I wished I hadn’t. Even with the small rocks banging against the undercarriage, I could still hear her when she gulped, eyes not budging from my
face.

“You are right. I am from that legend. My entire family is. But they are wrong about us. Zara, do you remember that night at the Lucky
Pin?”

“I remember you fighting with your family a
lot.”

Keeping my face aimed at the road, I rolled my eyes to her. “We were arguing about you, about whether or not we should let you go. There is something you should know about yourself that I will reveal to you by the end of the night, but for now, just know that you were special in my eyes. For that reason, I felt that I needed more time with you, so I convinced my family that night to allow me more
time.”

“What are you saying? That I was supposed to die?” she asked fretfully.

I nodded, ashamed.

“Well then, how come you waited for my car to crash? I almost did
die!”

“I didn’t know I’d be cutting it that close. My family and I were coming to agreements.”

“Agreements?”
she asked, sounding appalled.

“Yes. If I were to save you, Dylan would be allowed to erase your memory. Except you proved us all wrong when you retained very specific recollections of what occurred that night. After that, my curiosity about you kept me around. I knew I needed to interfere . . .”

“During the night games,” she finished for me, her face now
blank.

“I thought that if I showed you my tattoo, you would say you’d seen it before, or maybe it would bring out certain feelings I was looking for. But when you were shocked and scared, I realized I didn’t have the concrete evidence I needed to persuade my family to let me keep you safe, and I was too weak to watch the demons take you. That is why we left after that
night.”

“You . . . you left me . . .to . . .” Her sentence trailed off as shock washed through her. “But . . . why did you come back on Halloween?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Because somebody told me that something I’ve been waiting for a very long time finally
did
come to
me.”

“What?”

“You.”

It was quiet while Zara tried to get her bearings. I kept a cautious eye on her as we neared the top of the mountain.

“Wait, let’s just pretend for a second that I miraculously understand the tiniest bit of what you’re saying. I still don’t understand who
you
are.”

I cackled. “You are asking the wrong question,
muñeca
. I just told you that I knew who you were before we met, and you want to know who
I
am?”

“Yes,” she answered, and she held her breath. Her face looked hurt, but there was an edge of candidness that twisted my heart. It felt nice, so I
smiled.

“My family and I weren’t always this way, you know. We were called to do
this.”

She folded a leg onto the seat and turned to face me. Her face glowed in the darkness. “Do
what?”

I wanted to stretch my hand out and cup her cheeks, kiss the fullness of her mortal
lips.

“I am not a god, Zara. Never was . . .” I looked away, feeling the burden of telling the truth. “I was a demigod.”

I couldn’t resist looking back, and I anticipated her next question. “My mother I can thank for that. She’s the goddess, which naturally makes my father the human—well,
made
him the human. I was only a demigod until I reached twenty-three. That girl from the Lucky Pin, Tita, she’s the witch. Her, my father, my sister, and I all became immortal when we were called to do this. Ah, we’re
here.”

For the first time in twenty minutes, Zara tore her eyes from me and observed her surroundings. We were underneath a blanket of stars, parked on an unmarked overlook up a little from Inspiration Point. Emerald Bay spread far beneath us. I hopped out and walked to the trunk, noticing that I had blundered through enough wet dirt to give my white car a new paint job. I didn’t care. I removed my telescope, threw the blanket that covered it onto the backseat, and carried the black cylinder to the far edge of the cliff, positive that she would follow out of curiosity.

One, two.

“What’s it like?” she called from her seat as I strode
away.

I looked up at the burning stars and then down to the glass lake, bewitched by the delicate glow. Tonight was more than perfect; it was romantic.

“What’s what like?” I
asked.

“Being immortal.” Her enthusiasm drooped noticeably when the icy air reached beneath her coat as she got out. Her body tightened, and she clamped her arms around herself.

“Not what you would think. Over here.” I motioned her over with a jerk of my head and turned to my scope’s settings as she tiptoed across the
mud.

“So a priest taught you how to watch the
stars?”

“How to
read
the stars,” I corrected. I squinted into the telescope as I adjusted the lens. “Ahau was like a godfather to me. He used to tell me that the stars and the galaxy were sacred, and that they could reveal many things to us. Venus is the easiest to track because it arrives just before the sun rises and just after the sun sets. Ahau called it the morning and evening star. Take a
look.”

I backed away, pointing to the scope. She loosened her grip on her shivering arms and leaned over to squint into the eyepiece.

“It’s amazing. Vegas was always too bright to see the stars.” She stared a long moment and then backed away. “What happened to your godfather?”

I left her and walked back to the car. “He died a long time
ago.”

Zara watched, amazed, as I jumped soundlessly onto the hood. She walked noisily across the gravel and leaned her elbows on the hood next to
me.

“I’m sorry,” she said, staring bewildered at the view before
her.

I fixed my eyes on her. I reached for her hand and circled the pad of my thumb over it. She tensed but didn’t move, so I continued. “Don’t be. He was old and way too smart for his own
good.”

“So what was the deal with his obsession with the stars?” she asked, watching my thumb move over her hand and then looking toward the
sky.

I followed her gaze upward, remembering the way of my old life. “It wasn’t just his obsession, it was everybody’s. It was how we
lived.”

“I don’t . . .”

“The stars are a calendar, as much as the paper calendar you use today. Any sort of galactic movement is what we call Cosmos. Where I come from, they used the Cosmos as a tool for scheduling.”

When I glanced back, she was looking at me as if I were a creature she’d had nightmares about as a young girl. I let go of her hand and paused, hating the way she looked at me, but I realized just how badly she needed to get past this fear. I scooted closer, smiling when she jumped and then froze. I was a mere foot away from her, not close enough to be tempted, but near enough to read her spiking emotions and relish the fact I wasn’t the only
one.

“Scheduling what?” She stared back, wide-eyed.

“The usual. Ceremonies, rituals . . . wars.”

I figured this would shatter the block of ice she’d become. I was right, almost. She thought for a few seconds before inhaling deeply and displaying a mocking grin. “Wars? You determined wars by the
stars?”

She chuckled incredulously, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the purity that sparkled in her eyes in the moonlight.

“Well, when you say it like that . . . Actually, we had to. There isn’t much choice when everyone believes the same thing. It actually made it easy to predict when someone was going to come after you . . . it sort of prepared
you.”

She still stared at me
dumbly.

“Don’t girls your age read horoscopes?” I pointed
out.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Same thing. The Cosmos can predict things that may come to
pass.”

Zara relaxed, and I scooted closer, but her body tensed
again.

“So, what does this have to do with me?” she
asked.

I adjusted my weight, leaning back a ways to give her the space I had just closed. I was the one who suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“I lived during a crude period where beheadings and bloodletting were common,” I started nervously. I grounded myself in her steady heartbeat and went on. “As a young child, I wanted to understand why people made human sacrifices. My mother explained to me that the bones and blood of the Underworld gods created the Middleworld, and over time, they wanted repayment in the form of blood. So they created a creature that could feed off humans, drain their blood, and bring it back to the Underworld.”

“That sounds like a vampire.”

“So they were called. But they don’t exist anymore. They haven’t since AD 800, when the vampires revolted and kept the blood for themselves. The gods were angry and destroyed all the vampires. Then the gods came up with another way to get not only the human blood they desired, but also human hearts. They compelled the Aztecs to sacrifice humans and extract victims’ hearts as they were still beating. This compulsion worked every day for hundreds of years—until the day Hernan Cortez
came.”