Fated

head out into the community again, you’ll be ready. I’ll make sure that you’re ready, if it’s the last thing I do.”
    Her voice so grave, gaze so far away, the jokey retort I had planned dies on my lips. I have no idea what’s in store, but it’s clear that she’s serious and that I need to get serious too. “I think I may have already met that dark, powerful force,” I say, momentarily silenced by the stricken look on her face. “I’ve had dreams—dreams that started off nice, but then they took a turn. And that night at the Rabbit Hole—just before the accident, I met the boys from my dream. At first I thought I was going crazy, hallucinating again, but now I’m not sure. They had similar eyes—strange, icy-blue eyes. And while one is…” my one true love—my fated one— I shake my head and start again. “While one is … nice ,the other … well, he turned into a demon.” I stop, pick at a blade of grass I rub between my index finger and thumb. Feeling embarrassed to voice it out loud, but sensing that, unlike everyone else who’d prefer not to hear it, this is exactly the kind of thing Paloma wants me to share. “I guess I didn’t mention it before because I wasn’t sure it was real—but now, well, I’m thinking it might’ve been some kind of warning.”
    Paloma nods, her face fixed, serene, though her hands give her away—there’s no missing the way they tremble when she reaches for a tissue she then brings to her nose. “I’m afraid things have advanced far more than I realized.” She crumples the tissue and hides it from view but not quickly enough to conceal the bright spot of blood that blooms wide across it. “I’m afraid we don’t have nearly as much time as I thought.” She shoots me a troubled look.
    “So when does the initiation begin?” I ask, watching as she rises to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself before she offers a hand.
    “I’m afraid it has already begun, nieta, ” she says, helping me settle onto my crutches. “It has already started.”

thirteen
    “Ever ridden before?” Chay glances over his shoulder, catching my eye as I stand right behind him, watching as he secures the saddle on the horse, a beautiful paint with a perfectly striped brown and white mane.
    “A few times the grooms on movie sets let me ride. Back when I was a kid. But it’s been a while. I’ve pretty much forgotten everything I learned,” I say, feeling both nervous and excited by the prospect of riding this big, gorgeous animal as soon as I’m free of my cast. According to Paloma, graduating from crutches to the Frankenstein boot just isn’t enough.
    “Not to worry. I think you’ll find Kachina to be a gentle sort. You two will get along fine,” he says, voice smooth as a smile. “In fact, giving her a treat usually works as an icebreaker. If you look in the back of the truck, you’ll find a cooler.” He nods in that general direction. “And if you look in the cooler, you’ll find a few carrots to feed her.”
    I do as he says, returning with two big carrots that, in a bout of overeagerness, I’m quick to shove toward her mouth. The move sloppy, inexperienced, and when she curls her lip to accept them, the size of her teeth causes my hands to shake so badly the carrots fall to the ground, forcing Kachina to lower her head and swipe them up off the dirt.
    My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I wipe my palms on the back of my jeans, forcing a laugh as I say, “Do you think she’ll hold a grudge?”
    “I’m sure in time she’ll forgive you.” Chay grins, causing his eyes to fan at the sides and his forehead to crease under the rim of his bandanna. “Horses startle easily. For such large animals, they’re all a bunch of scaredy cats. You have to approach them slowly, gently, same way you’d like someone to approach you. Call her by name, coo to her softly. Then take a moment to stand quietly beside her. Keeping your breath nice and even so she can have a chance to adjust to your energy as you adjust to hers. And then, when the time is right, you may pet her like this.” He demonstrates the move, his large hand smoothing her mane in a way that causes his eagle ring with the yellow stone eyes to glint in the sun, as he works his way down the swoop of her neck. Giving her a series of gentle pats, before scratching the space between her eyes, just under her forelock.
    “Is she yours?” I watch as Chay presses his mouth close to the horse’s