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Authors: Alisa Valdes

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G
oing as fast as we legally could,
Kelsey and I returned to Minerva’s oddball apartment in the city, with Travis’s childhood trophy like a prize in my hand. Minerva was knitting something shapeless and fuzzy, and she welcomed us as though we were old friends back from a yearlong journey. We quickly got down to the business of her trying to find traces of Travis’s spiritual energy on the award.

Kelsey and I once again sat on the red sofa with the bread crust in it, and we watched as Minerva, seated in the wingback chair, closed her eyes and turned the belt buckle over and over in her hands, mumbling, “Yes . . . yes . . . oh yes . . . I see. . . .” She touched every part of it, caressed it, and little by little a satisfied smile crept onto her face. It put me at ease, that smile, because it was truly and genuinely happy, and I waited to hear what she’d say next. My heart raced, and I was filled with hope. I’d find him. I knew I would.

“He was so happy when he got this,” said Minerva, opening her eyes and raising her gaze to the ceiling. “I can see a little boy, such a cute little thing, just beaming, his whole face a smile. I sense his father, too. A proud father. They were very close, even though the boy never knew his dad was with him; his dad was there when he won this. At all his wins, I think.”

Minerva’s eyes shifted back down and connected with mine.

“His father is here, with us,” she told me.

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“He wasn’t here before,” mused Minerva, “so I am thinking he must be connected to this buckle as well. You brought him with you. You have alerted him to your presence.”

“Is he mad at us?” I asked.

“Not at all,” said Minerva. “But he does have an anger he has carried for a very long time, long before he became aware of us here in this room. He is not a peaceful spirit. He feels guilty, as though somehow he could have saved his family. But it isn’t his fault, and we need to help him to understand this so that he can move on to where he needs to go.”

She focused on a spot across the room, and said, “Gregory, welcome. We are all friends here, and we all want what is best for your son Travis. Please feel at home with us. We mean you and your family no harm.”

Again, my skin crawled with goose bumps, and I shivered. Kelsey crossed her arms over her chest and pulled her knees together protectively.

Minerva began to meditate upon the buckle again, and again fell into a trancelike state as, I assumed, she searched for Travis. Five minutes later or so, her eyes popped open and her gaze bore into me. She rose and came to sit at my side again, holding the buckle in one hand and my hand in her other.

“I’ve got the energy,” she said, “but it took a moment to register because his energy is so much like yours. Let me compare.”

She lowered her head in concentration, and a few held breaths later, looked up brightly.

“Oooh,” she said, as if in awe.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re a musician, right?” she asked me. I nodded, and she kept talking. “Then you understand that musical notes are just vibrations that your eardrum picks up.”

“Of course.”

“That’s kind of what spirits are like for me,” she said. “Think of me as a person who was born with a kind of ear, here”—she touched her sternum—“that allows me to hear spiritual vibrations. They really are very much like music.”

“Okay.”

“There are tones, and frequencies, and harmonies,” she explained, still smiling at me in a sort of joyful awe, “and each spirit has a slightly different sort of harmony to it. Kindred spirits vibrate together in complete and perfect unison. This is very rare, indeed, and each person is only given one—one!—Kindred, or perfect soul mate, and oftentimes, they never meet.”

I waited, my heart pounding. I knew what would come next—the pause in the tornado had told us—but I needed to hear it out loud, as a fact.

“Shane, you and Travis sound in perfect unison. It is no wonder, then, that when you and Travis touched there was a special and compelling energy. You were part of the same soul finding itself again, making itself whole.”

“Oh my God,” I said.

“No wonder his absence is incredibly painful.”

“That is so amazing,” said Kelsey.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked Minerva.

“I get a feeling about it,” she told me, “but given that you are a Kindred, I would bet that a part of you knows where he is.”

“I wish I did!” I cried.

“You do.”

I grew upset with her now. “No, I don’t! If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re not aware of it yet, but it’s in there, somewhere. Because wherever he is, you are there, too.”

“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t help me right now because I don’t know how to access that information. Please, just tell me what you know.”

Minerva released my hand, and refocused her concentration on the trophy, closing her eyes and starting to sway and mumble. After ten minutes of this, she emerged again with her usual bizarre “Hello, girls” greeting, and told us what she knew.

“He is in the Underworld, in a prison of mirrors, if I heard that part right. One of my guides who is able to travel there has located him and told him you are looking for him with my help.”

“Well, that’s great!” I said. “Isn’t it? I mean, knowing where he is makes it easier to help him get back to the Vortex.”

“He is there for a reason, but my guides tell me that only his Kindred can get him out. She knows this, the one who keeps him. She is counting on it.”

“Why?”

“She wants what you have.”

“What do I have that she could possibly want?”

“That’s what we have to find out.”

“I’m scared,” said Kelsey, looking at me. I nodded, because I was, too.

Minerva continued. “The Underworld is most difficult to find, but Clyde can help us.” She paused a moment, and stared into my eyes with a serious expression before asking me, “When you died, where did you go?”

I tried to remember. “It was a good place,” I said. “Good people were there, and I knew that I was loved. I was very happy there. I didn’t want to leave.”

“The Afterworld,” said Minerva. “You are good, and pure, and we are fortunate to know this, as it bodes well for helping Travis. That, plus you being of the world of the living. With my help, you will be able to access the seventh level of the Underworld, and travel there, and if you are careful, find Travis.”

I was filled with excitement, but also dread and fear.

“How will I get there?” I asked. “Will it be in dreams, or in my real physical body?”

Minerva grew somber. “The Underworld is a real physical place, Shane. It’s not some fairy dust fantasy. It exists, but not in our dimension here in life on Earth as we know it. But you can get there.”

“A portal?” I asked.

“Yes. A shortcut through space and time, a cosmic tunnel. You will have to get there in your real and physical self, because until and unless you are dead, your spirit cannot be separated from your body. Do you understand? To send only your spirit would be to kill yourself now.”

I nodded.

“You mentioned to me that you knew of a wormhole, or portal as you called it,” she said. “You saw Travis use one.”

“Yes!” I told her in detail about the cavern near Chaco Canyon, and her eyes grew wide with wonder and excitement.

“I have heard for years of such places, and I have sensed it when I was near one, but I have never been fortunate enough to see one for myself. Shane, if you will let me, I will accompany you on the journey to find Travis.”

“Can you do that?”

She nodded. “It is riskier for me, because I do not have a Kindred—at least not that I know of—on the other side to help strengthen my energy once I am there. But I have my guides and my many connections, and I have knowledge of things that, while not perfect in any way, shape, or form, is certainly more than you might have entering such a foreboding and unforgiving place on your own.”

“How long would we be gone?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Shane. I’m honestly not sure how that would work. We could be gone for what feels like a very short time here, but it would feel like a very long time there, or vice versa. It’s uncharted territory.”

“Would we be able to get back?” I asked.

“I would most certainly make sure that we could.”

I looked at Kelsey, and she seemed worried. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. Looking at Minerva, she said, “Right? She doesn’t have to do this.”

“No, you don’t have to do this,” Minerva told me. “We can try to deal with the dark mark upon you in other ways, through spiritual cleansing and through ceremonies to ward off any more evil spirits. We can protect you as best we can, and you can try to continue with your life as you knew it before. There is danger in that as well, but it is not beyond the realm of possibility. I can help you, if that’s the route you wish to go.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No. There’s no way I’m leaving him there, not if there’s a chance I can help him escape.” I began to cry, but the tears were hot with purpose and conviction. “He saved me, and it is up to me now, to save him. I feel it. I need to do this.”

“Are you quite sure?” Minerva asked me, but her eyes glowed with approval. She knew this was the right thing to do, viscerally, just as I did.

“Absolutely,” I said. Kelsey looked uncertain, and upset.

“Very well,” Minerva said, dusting her hands together as though we were coming up with a plan to bake a pie. “Then here’s what we’ll do. We will go see Clyde. We’ll get his help. You girls will find a way to make it look like Shane has run away from home. People will fret and search for you, of course,” she told me, “but in the end it will all work out just fine.” She turned to my friend. “Kelsey, it will be very important for you to keep up this charade for us, darling, you understand?”

Kelsey nodded, fear in her eyes. “I think so.”

Minerva stared Kelsey down. “You
think
so? We cannot do it without your cooperation, love. Are you in, or not?”

“In,” said Kelsey weakly.

This seemed to satisfy Minerva. “Give me a couple of days to sort this all through and to consult with some people and guides and spirits I know, and I will come up with a plan for us.”

“Can I come with you guys?” asked Kelsey.

“No,” I said.

“I’m afraid not,” said Minerva. “It’s far too risky as it is. I cannot reasonably put two young girls in danger, besides which, your energy tells me that you are needed here, for important purposes. We all have a journey, and all of us must honor it to the best of our abilities with as much dignity as we can muster.”

“What are the risks of Shane going to the Underworld or Hell or whatever it is?” asked Kelsey, her eyes watering up.

“Worst-case scenario, we don’t come back,” said Minerva.

“Shane, you can’t do this,” shouted Kelsey. “I know you love him and he’s very special to you, but you have a life here. You can’t throw it all away to, to . . .”

Kelsey couldn’t finish the thought, so I finished it for her. “To save Travis’s soul. That’s what I’d be doing.”

“Yeah,” said Kelsey in defeat. “I know it sounds noble, but I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend. You have so much to live for. It’s not worth it, Shane. It really isn’t.”

I thought of Travis, and of the powerful love we shared, of the electricity between us, and the fact that he had risked his own soul just to see me one last time, and I said, without hesitation, “Yes, Kelsey, it is worth it.”

 

I wish to thank Antonia Markiet, senior executive editor at HarperCollins, for believing in this book from the start, and for editing with diligence, brilliance, and patience. You are one in a million, and I am glad you’re mine. Thank you.

I’d also like to thank Jayne Carapezzi, Sasha Illingworth, Tom Forget, and Jessica Berg for their work on this book.

 

Alisa Valdes
is a
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of six commercial women’s fiction novels, including
THE DIRTY GIRLS SOCIAL CLUB
. She has a Masters in journalism from Columbia and is a Pulitzer-nominated, award-winning former staff writer for the
Boston Globe
and
Los Angeles Times
. Alisa has written and sold pilot scripts to Nickelodeon, NBC, and Lifetime Television, as well as a teen crossover feature film based on The Kindred.

Visit
www.AuthorTracker.com
for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

Credits

 

Cover photograph © 2012 by Thinkstock/iStock
Cover design by Sammy Yuen

 

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The Temptation
Copyright © 2012 by Alisa Valdes
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Valdes-Rodriguez, Alisa.

The temptation : a Kindred novel / by Alisa Valdes. — 1st ed.

    p. cm.

Summary: Rescued from a car crash in New Mexico, sixteen-year-old Shane meets her soul mate, only to discover that he is dead.

ISBN 978-0-06-202420-6 (pbk. bdg.)

[1. Love—Fiction. 2. Ghosts—Fiction. 3. Soul—Fiction. 4. Dead—Fiction. 5. New Mexico—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.V2158Te 2012

[Fic]—dc23

2011022939
CIP
AC

12  13  14  15  16  CG/BV  10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

First Edition

EPub Edition © February 2012 ISBN: 9780062114594

BOOK: The Temptation (Kindred)
11.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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