Page List


Font:  

“Not exactly.”

Up until now, I hadn’t let Ik stick around for any of the encounters. Lowering the godborn boom on the kids was enough of a shock—I didn’t feel like also explaining that I was hanging with a demon in disguise. Plus, two to one always makes a person feel ganged up on.

I focused on the connection that was getting stronger with each step. “I also tell them about the World Tree, where they can learn about their abilities and get trained in how to use them.”

“Okay. Then, after all that, do you tell them that Camazotz wants to feed their hearts to the Mexica gods?”

“Keep your voice down!” For half a second, I imagined burning off Ik’s eyebrows with a single spark from my fingertip. Instead, I whispered, “If you have to know, yes. I tell them about Zotz’s plan to use godborns to resurrect the Mexica gods and how it failed. They deserve to know the truth.”

Ik’s face turned bright red, and I thought smoke might start curling out of her ears. What was her problem? She took a couple of deep calming breaths. “How noble of you.”

More often than not, the truth worked. Most of the kids were pretty psyched to find out they had a godly parent and might have inherited a power of some sort, especially after I showed them my fire-shooting skills. I was alwa

ys careful to leave the enemies-ripping-out-their-hearts stuff for last. By then, they were usually too distracted by the word power to care about anything else.

But, if I’m being totally honest, not everyone had been pumped about the news. A few godborns had thrown up or passed out. The runners were the worst—I hated chasing them down. In the end, curiosity always won out. So far…

The godborns’ human parents had a different reaction, but more about that later.

My blood ran hotter. Why couldn’t I shake this feeling? I twisted my hands around Fuego and tried to push the sensation away, but it punched me in the chest anyway.

There was no doubt about it: we were being watched. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. I mean, no one could be following us. Ik always released her magical misty whatever to cover our tracks so completely that even if we were ambushed and thrown into an underground cave, no one, not even Xib’alb’a’s best tracking demons or hellhounds, would find our leftovers.

“Uh…” I glanced over my shoulder at the dark and empty sidewalk. “Do you have a feeling something is way off?”

“You’re that guy, huh?”

“That guy?”

“The one in the scary movie that everyone should have listened to before they got murdered.” She rubbed her stomach. “Can you hurry it up so I can eat?”

Just then, my phone rang. Mom had bought it for me, saying that if I was going to hunt with demons, she had to be able to reach me.

“A thousand bucks it isn’t that girl.” Ik leaned closer, nasty breath and all, to get a look at the phone’s screen. “Ha! Told you. Don’t answer it.”

Ik had spent the last three months telling me all the reasons why Brooks hadn’t called. She doesn’t care. She thinks you’re boring. She’s just not that into you. But no way would my best friend, the awesome shape-shifter who had saved my hide more than once, ghost me. Even if Brooks had read all that sappy stuff I wrote about her in my first book, the one Ixtab had forced me to write. Stupid truth paper!

My best guess was that Brooks had joined some undercover network with her sister, Quinn, and couldn’t talk to anyone.

I answered the FaceTime call. “Hey, Hondo.”

My uncle’s smiling face filled the screen. Ren’s silvery-blue eye loomed in the corner. “You’ll get a chance to talk to him,” Hondo said to her with a grunt. “Move over.”

“You don’t need the whole screen,” the godborn argued.

“Hey, guys?” I said. “I’m kinda busy right now.”

My dog, Rosie, whined in the background as Ren grabbed the phone away from Hondo. “My phone tracker says you’re in New York?” She had thought it was a good idea to share locations with each other. Just in case.

Ik tapped her foot. “Tell them you can’t talk. Don’t they know we’re on an important mission?”

“Did you find number sixty-four?” Hondo shouted from the background.

“I’m working on it now.”

“Oh, good.” Ren smiled. “Then you’ll be home tonight?” She flashed what looked like a notecard. “We got another invitation, with the same instructions as before: Don’t pack anything. Don’t bring your phone. Blah, blah, blah.”

“I am not going to wear a SHIHOM uniform,” Hondo chimed in.


Tags: J.C. Cervantes, Jennifer Cervantes The Storm Runner Fantasy