Echo Soul Seekers

is.
    He’s darker.
    Harder.
    His energy odd and frenetic—offering only a fraction of the usual swarm of unconditional love I’ve come to expect.
    And when my eyes meet his, it’s like looking at Cade. His gaze is dark, fathomless, fails to reflect.
    “Dace—what happened?” I ask, unable to stifle my panic. Watching in dismay as he quickly turns away, as though too ashamed to be seen.
    “Don’t. Don’t look at me. Please. I’ll explain later. As soon as it’s over, I’ll tell you everything. Just—trust that I did what I had to. I did it for us. For you. And it’s nothing that can’t be undone. But please, I can’t bear for you to see me like this.”
    He moves away, but I grasp hold of his arm and pull him back to me. “Who did this to you?” I reach for his cheek, needing to look into his eyes once again, to determine it truly is as bad as I think, only to have him jerk free.
    “Daire— please !” he cries, the words spoken with untold anguish. “What you see isn’t me. I’m still in here, I swear. I just—”
    I stand before him, too shaken to move.
    Barely able to focus when he says, “It’s temporary. It’s what I have to do in order to save you. It’ll all be okay in the end, you’ll see.”
    My eyes search his, looking for clues to what that might mean.
    “I know how the prophecy ends,” he says, the words causing an ominous chill to creep over my flesh. “It’s the same as the dream, and I won’t let you die.”
    I shake my head, needing him to understand it’s not what he thinks. “You’ve got it all wrong—that’s not how it ends—that’s not what it means!” But my words fall on deaf ears.
    “This is it, Daire. This is how it goes down. I’ve dreamed it too many times. Seen the writing on the wall—literally. And while I can’t do anything about the sky bleeding fire—I will do whatever it takes to keep the darkness from eclipsing your light.”
    “But I’m not the light—that’s not how the dream ends! You’re—”
    The words interrupted by the sight of Cade sauntering toward us, casually plucking debris from his clothing and hair, with his faithful coyote trotting alongside him.
    “Well, isn’t this a touching scene?” He stops just before us, grinning at Dace as though he’s the special guest he’s long been expecting. “You’ve got quite an arm there, brother—who knew?” He laughs. Cricks his neck from side to side. But aside from the dirt on his clothing, he’s no worse for wear.
    Dace shoves before me, in an effort to shield me. Fingers snaking covertly into his pocket, he says, “Figured I’d find you down here, throwing a temper tantrum and sulking like the child you are. How many people need to suffer for your failure to impress Leandro?” He shakes his head. “We’re all aware of your pathetic need for his approval. Must make you feel pretty awful when he yells at you like he did.”
    Dace glowers before him, as my gaze switches between them. And all it takes is the almost imperceptible flinch of Cade’s shoulders to know Dace nailed the sore spot.
    Reminding me of what I once said to Paloma, when I referred to Cade as a: psychopathic demonic freak driven by a pathetic need to impress Leandro by achieving world domination.
    It’s the single seed of humanity that lives deep inside him.
    The mine—his presence in the Lowerworld—it’s only partly about amassing a fortune and controlling the Middleworld. At its very core, it’s a bid to wow his dad. Willing to destroy countless lives in an effort to gain his father’s approval. And, according to Dace, he’s failed on every level.
    Xotichl and Paloma were right—he’s definitely human.
    Though that doesn’t mean I won’t kill him.
    “I stood right outside the door and listened to him verbally rip you to shreds,” Dace continues. “Heard the way you begged—your voice high-pitched and whiny when he shot you down, refused to listen. See the smile I wear?” He stands before him, finger arrowed toward a wide empty grin. “It’s nothing like the way I smiled then.” He pauses, pretending that it’s merely an afterthought when he adds, “Oh, and by the way, you so much as go near my girlfriend again—you’re dead.” His fingers slip free of his pocket, revealing the blowgun that didn’t work so well the last time. Though one look at his face tells me he has complete faith he won’t fail again. “Actually, you’re dead either way. So say good-bye,