Blood and Salt (Blood and Salt #1)

Armed with enough cash and gold to float a small country, we were headed to Quivira.

I watched my brother drift off into an uneasy sleep, his breath fogging up the side passenger window. Even though he was sitting right next to me, I’d never felt so alone.

Pulling the black silk ribbon from my pocket, I draped it around my throat.





7


EVOLUTION

THE SUN ROSE, flooding the car with hazy lemon light. I knew it was stupid, but it felt like nothing bad could happen to us as long as the sun was shining.

As the light skimmed my brother’s face, he jerked awake as if he’d just come out of a nightmare. Raking his fingers through his hair, he let out a deep sigh. “Pennsylvania?” he asked as we passed a horse-drawn buggy with bright orange reflective triangles on the back. Inside the buggy, kids about our age stared back at us with the same kind of alien fascination our faces must’ve held.

“Ohio.”

“I’m sorry.” He stretched out his legs. “How long was I out?”

“Six hours.”

“I’ve got the next shift.”

“We need gas, again,” I said as I pulled off the highway.

Up ahead stood an old white house with a sweeping front porch that had been converted into a gas station/bait shop. The paint was peeling off in sheets, and it seemed like one stiff breeze could blow the whole thing to smithereens.

I pulled up to the gas pump. Rhys swung his door open just as a pickup truck peeled into the parking lot behind us, nearly clipping him. Two husky men got out, dressed from head to toe in camo.

The bigger one, with the reddish goatee, slammed a beer and let out a gag-worthy belch. “Did you see that dumb look on his face when we stood up from the blind?”

“He was, like, Oh, shit, man.” His friend laughed so hard, he had to stop to catch his breath. “And then we went crazy on his ass. BOOM.”

They gave each other a series of sloppy high fives before strutting inside.

“I get that there are people who hunt to feed their families,” I said to Rhys. “But these guys have a brand-new truck with tricked-out radials and, oh my God, a Nickelback bumper sticker. They aren’t living off the land. Whatever they killed, it’s going on their wall.”

“Don’t go all PETA on me. Not here,” Rhys said as he peeled a crisp hundred-dollar bill from one of the stacks and stuffed it in his blazer pocket.

“Seriously, how can they call that a sport?” I asked as I popped the gas cap.

“Yeah, I really don’t want to be on their wall, either, so keep it down.” Rhys headed inside.

As I pumped the gas, I dug around in the backseat for something that would pass for breakfast. I finally settled on a warm Dr Pepper. While opening the can, I accidentally slit my finger on the sharp aluminum edge.

“Damn.” I’d stuck my finger in my mouth to slow the bleeding when I noticed a long wisp of honey-colored hair hovering in the wind above the bed of the hunters’ truck.

I dropped the can. As the wet hiss of soda seeped into the gravel, a sick feeling twisted my insides, refusing to let go. Animals didn’t have hair like that. I did.

Cautiously, I walked toward the back of the truck. As I pulled up on the shiny chrome handle to lower the door, my body went numb.

There, lying on her side, was the dead girl.

I stared in dark fascination. I’d never seen her lying down before. Her back was turned to me, but her left arm was stretched beneath her, exposing the deep slash in the palm of her hand, seeping blood. I followed the rope knotted around her mottled ankles to find the rest of it coiled next to her, like a cobra waiting to strike. The bottoms of her feet were caked in fresh soil.

A mass of dark blond waves covered her face, but I knew it was her—the same girl I’d seen my entire life. Me.

Without another thought, I climbed into the bed of the truck, accidentally brushing my leg against the pile of rope. That eerily familiar crinkling sound sent a chill marching up my spine. Just the feel of it against my skin made my blood bubble in revulsion. I kicked free of the rope, but the dread never left me. Every particle of my being told me to run, but I had to see her face. Katia said I was tied to her. I needed to understand what that meant.

My hand trembled as I reached out and grasped her shoulder, gently pulling her toward me. Her skin was cold, but I’d never felt so warm. I felt life surging through me—pure power tingling just beneath the surface of my skin right before I was ripped from my consciousness. I fought to hang on, but I felt myself disappearing into another time.

? ? ?

“Give me your arm,” Coronado commands as he pulls a blazing hot iron from the embers.

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