Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls by Kaela Rivera (online e book reading .txt) 📕

“And I guess you have just as much reason to get my sister back as I do, huh?” I extended my hand. “What do you say? Let’s make up for our mistakes together. For Juana?”

Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. The pink swelled, and the gray and navy blue in his soul bled away. The warmth rose back in his soul stone and reached out to touch my own.

“For Juana.” He slipped his hand into mine.

We shared that solace for all of a minute before a deep pang rang through Kit Fox’s soul at my throat.

I touched the stone. Coyote dropped his hand. “What’s wrong?”

I let out a slow, shaking breath. There was a distant, muffled sensation ringing through his small pebble. I didn’t know his soul too well yet, but it buzzed with something yellow—almost like panic.

I looked up. “I think Kit is in trouble.”

His face hardened. “Let’s go.”

Coyote and I landed in front of my house soundlessly. I looked up at it. Kit Fox’s soul stone still throbbed with frightened yellow, but it didn’t feel as urgent. Was he okay?

Coyote’s ear twitched. “I think I hear him and someone else downstairs.”

That couldn’t be good. I slid off his back. “You should go upstairs, before anyone sees you.” My street wasn’t exactly a busy one, but we’d already risked a lot traveling here in broad daylight.

“Are you sure?” Coyote asked as I approached the front door.

I took the doorknob in hand and smiled at him. “Yeah. I’ll let you know if I need help.”

He hesitated. A distant figure turned onto the street, so far away they were the size of an ant. I pointed urgently. With a short sigh, Coyote sprang into the air and disappeared into my room.

I turned back to the door. My hands were shaking a bit. I had a bad feeling about what waited on the other side, but there was only one thing left to do.

I pushed the door open and walked inside.

Mamá stood in the living room, holding Kit Fox by the scruff of his ragged blue shirt.

“You have to tell me sooner or later,” she yelled, shaking him slightly. Kit’s fluffy ears twisted back against his head. He cringed. “Why are you here? Where is your soul?” She shook again, and he let out a short yip. “Were you trying to hurt my daughter? Who sent you?”

I gaped, and the door clicked shut behind me. Mamá looked up.

“Cece, you’re safe!” Her mouth upturned with relief before she rounded a burning look down at Kit, who flinched again. “I found this criatura in your room, and I thought you were taken.” She tightened her grip on his collar. “Now, I can turn him in without worrying.”

“Mamá, no! Let him go! Please!”

Mamá jerked up her chin. I froze under the intense heat of her gaze. For a moment, I was seven again, begging for Tzitzimitl to be set free. And Mamá’s disappointment, her anger, her fear—it was just as palpable now as it had been then.

I swallowed hard. Kit Fox looked at me across the room, gripping his shirt so the collar wouldn’t choke him. He was strong enough to hurt Mamá, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t even fought to get away. He trusted me. Slowly, I straightened up. Faced Mamá. And stepped forward.

Her eyebrows tugged together. I knew it was time. There were no lies that could untangle all the others, no words that would salvage this, except the truth. I grabbed Kit’s, Lion’s, and Coyote’s soul necklaces and pulled them out of my shirt.

Mamá’s eyes widened in horror.

“I’m a bruja, Mamá,” I whispered, small and waiting.

Her fingers fell open. Kit stumbled toward me, and I opened my arms to him. He came and snuggled into my side, his right ear flopping against my head.

“Cecelia,” she whispered. “No. Not you too.”

“It’s not what you think,” I rushed on. “I’m doing this to get Juana back, I promise!”

She reared up, and even though she was only a few inches taller, I shrank from her. Kit slid behind me, and I blocked him from her view. “Do you think that calling down the wrath of the Desert goddess will bring your sister back?” she boomed. “Do you think that these criaturas have power that can fill the hole she’s left behind? They cannot!”

“No, Mamá. I’m not like Tía Catrina! I don’t want what she wanted.” I gulped down air, stepping slowly, shakily toward her. She stiffened, looking down on me without a word. “The Bruja Finals are tonight, and I have to win if I want to get Juana back.” I reached out my hands, even though I wasn’t sure she would take them. “I’m not afraid anymore, Mamá. I will fight for my sister, and I will bring her home. Then, our familia won’t be so broken.”

I stopped in front of her. At some point in my speech, her chin had started quivering. Slowly, her hands reached out for mine. Inches before they touched my skin, she flinched back.

“The curse,” she said, and there was no more anger in her voice. Her hands shook and dove into her thick hair. She pulled at the strands, face crumpling. “It has drowned the flames of your soul. Oh, my little girl, my daughter, they have taken you too.”

“That’s not it!” I said, voice high. “It was a blessing, Mamá, not a curse—”

Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned around. Kit scampered back, toward me, as Papá filled the doorway. I locked my knees. He was mostly shadow, his face blocked out by the lowering sun behind him. He stepped forward, stare darting from Kit Fox, to me and my necklaces, to Mamá’s broken expression. His heavy stare veered back and landed again on me.

“Papá,” I whispered.

He crossed the room in three wide steps and slapped me across the face.

I hit the ground with a spin and landed on my back. The air disappeared from my lungs. Kit ran to my side. Papá bore down on me, his