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

the buñuelo out of her hand and shoved it in my pocket.

“Holy sunset!” She threw her hands up. “You’re not even trying! I know everyone’s mean to you, but they won’t be if you just—just—”

“Just stop being me?” I spat. Juana dropped her arms to her sides. “You always act like you can make me into someone else, but being my big sister doesn’t mean you can change reality!” A hiccup jogged my chest. “You don’t understand. So just leave me alone.”

I turned and stomped off in the opposite direction, heading for the area with the least number of people—the edge of the Ruins, where the red cord bobbed. A couple of footsteps followed me.

“Moon above, Cece, I’m trying to help!” Juana called. “What’s wrong with you?”

I paused about five feet from the rope. The area was completely empty of townspeople now; there was just me and Juana and our argument. The answer to her question should have been obvious. Ever since the night I released Tzitzimitl back into the desert, my familia had become obsessed with the Amenazante dance. Because especially on this night, they wanted to believe I had somehow gotten better. That the fire in my soul was stronger than the water Tzitzimitl had cursed me with.

What would they say if I told them I wasn’t sure it was a curse at all?

I moved forward again, toward the red rope, where I knew she wouldn’t follow. I needed a break from her, just for a bit. Then maybe I wouldn’t cry, and Juana wouldn’t get twice as angry at me for exposing the water in my soul.

I hadn’t gone five steps before Juana shouted after me again.

“Don’t even pretend you’re brave enough to go into the Ruins!” she called. “We both know you’re not strong enough to fight off a criatura.”

I hadn’t been planning to go past the red rope. That would be dumb. I turned back to look at her and glared at her high-and-mighty lifted chin and flared nostrils.

But now being dumb felt worth it.

I grabbed the red cord. She put her hands on her hips. I jumped over it.

“Cecelia, get back here!”

I sprinted into the dark landscape of the Ruins.

3

El Sombrerón

Since I was seven, I’d never ventured this far from the safety of the town proper. I liked to, you know, be alive. But anger gave me temporary armor as I ventured between the abandoned, crumbling adobe buildings of the Ruins, sinking deeper and deeper into the desert’s darkness.

It took about ten minutes before the anger gave way, and I started to realize what I’d just done—and that I was now in the outskirts. By myself. Possibly surrounded by criaturas hiding in the darkness.

I stopped, frozen between two abandoned adobe houses that were once homes. A chill crept up my back. I really was an idiota.

I took several deep breaths to calm down and glanced back the way I’d come. The lights were distant but visible. I started to shiver. Okay, time to go back before—

Something creaked nearby.

I turned, shoulders stiff, to look behind me. The front entrance of the nearest adobe house was quiet and dark but for two glowing, golden eyes trained on me.

Holy sunset! I held my breath. A criatura had found me already.

The creature slunk forward into the almost-light. Its back was hunched over, calico fur standing on end. It was a coyote. I relaxed my shoulders and let out a sigh. Thank goodness. I’d thought it was a criatura for sure.

The animal’s growl pierced the air, its top lip pulled back in a snarl.

Oh wait. A coyote was still pretty bad.

It cocked its head, golden stare tracing over me. It had eyes as hard as metal. I swallowed. Its fur was mottled, its white-tipped tail low to the ground. And despite the fur, I spotted the sharp outline of its ribs.

It was starving.

“Hey, you’re hungry, huh?” I whispered.

It snarled, but slowly the growl softened until it was almost a purr. I slipped my hand inside my pocket, where I’d stored Juana’s buñuelo.

“This is probably what you’re smelling,” I whispered and threw the morsel to it. The coyote’s intelligent gaze didn’t leave mine. I felt goose bumps erupt all over my back. I’d never seen a wild animal with eyes so focused and—warm.

“I was planning on eating it”—I pointed to the buñuelo between us—“but I think you need it more.”

It eyed me for a second longer. Slowly, it ducked its head to chow down.

I let out a nervous sigh. “Yeah, good boy. You eat up—I’m going back before any actual criaturas find me.”

It cocked its head at me, chomping through the fried dough. I waved goodbye to the animal and headed back toward the town’s lights.

“Cece!” Juana’s voice floated through the darkness. “Cece!”

She’d followed me? I started running, looking around, trying to spot her. Half of me was relieved that she’d come. If anyone could protect me out here and get us back safely, it was my big sister. But the other half of me knotted up with dread. What if she wasn’t—

A scream tore through the air.

I kicked into a sprint. “Juana?” I cried.

“Stay away from me!” she shouted.

I skidded through the dusty landscape, tore around corner after corner of abandoned buildings and scrub. Stark panic flooded my veins the faster I ran. I followed her voice until I skated into an intersection framed with decrepit storefronts, my chest heaving.

“Stay back!” Juana cried again. Her voice shivered at the end but her upright stance was bold. She stood with her back to me, facing a monster alone.

The criatura was a shadow, nearly eight and a half feet tall, standing just a few steps from her. He lifted a hand, made of crisp nighttime, and traced the brim of his wide black hat, a gleaming white smile carving out from the darkness beneath.

“You are most beautiful, Juana Rios,” he said. My knees locked as his voice poured across the street, as sweet as honey and as sharp as