Beautiful Darkness (61 page)

Ridley appeared at the top of the steps, breathless. She hugged Lena, taking her from me. She rubbed her face against Lena's wet cheek. They were sisters, for better or worse. They always had been. “Lena, listen to me. You have to choose.” Lena looked away, pained. Ridley grabbed the side of her cousin's face, forcing Lena to look at her. Lena noticed right away. “What happened to your eyes?”

“It doesn't matter. You need to listen to me. Have I ever done anything noble? Have I ever let you sit in the front seat of the car a single time? Have I ever once saved you the last piece of cake, in sixteen years? Ever let you try on my shoes?”

“I always hated your shoes.” A tear rolled down Lena's cheek.

“You loved my shoes.” Ridley smiled and wiped Lena's face with her scraped and bloody hand.

“I don't care what you say. I'm not doing it.” Their eyes were fixed on each other.

“I don't have a selfless bone in my body, Lena, and I'm telling you to do it.”

“No.”

“Trust me. It's better this way. If I still have some Darkness inside me somewhere, you'll be doing me a favor. I don't want to be Dark anymore, but I'm not cut out to be a Mortal. I'm a Siren.”

I could see the recognition in Lena's eyes. “But if you're a Mortal, you won't —”

Ridley shook her head. “There's no way to know. Once there's Darkness in your blood, you know …” Her voice broke off.

I remembered what Macon said.
Darkness does not leave us as easily as we would hope.

Ridley hugged Lena tight. “Come on, what am I going to do with seventy or eighty more years? Can you really see me hanging around Gat-dung, making out with Link in the back of the Beater? Trying to figure out how the stove works?” She looked away, her voice faltering. “Can't even get decent Chinese in that crappy town.”

Lena held tight to Ridley's hand, and Ridley squeezed it, then gently pulled her hand away, one finger at a time, and placed Lena's hand in mine.

“Take care of her for me, Short Straw.” Ridley disappeared back down the steps before I could say a word.

I'm scared, Ethan.

I'm right here, L. I'm not going anywhere. You can make it through this.

Ethan —

You can, L. Claim yourself. No one has to show you the way. You know your own way.

Then another voice joined mine, from a great distance and also from within me.

My mother.

Together we told Lena, in the one stolen moment we had, not what to do but that she could do it.

Claim yourself
, I said.

Claim yourself
, my mother said.

I am myself
, Lena said.
I am.

Blinding light surged from the moon, like a sonic boom, shaking the rocks loose from the walls. I couldn't see anything but the moonlight. I felt Lena's fear and her pain, pouring over me like a wave. Every loss, every mistake, was seared into her soul, creating a different kind of tattoo. One made from rage and abandonment, heartbreak and tears.

Moonlight flooded the cave, pure and blinding. For a minute, I couldn't see or hear anything. Then I looked over at Lena, tears running down her cheeks and shining in her eyes, which were now their true colors.

One green, one gold.

She flung her head back to face the moon. Her body twisted, her feet hovering above the stone. Below her, the fighting stopped. No one spoke or moved. Every Caster and Demon in the room seemed to know what was happening, that their fates hung in the balance. Above her, the brightness of the moon began to vibrate, the light pulling, until the whole cave was one ball of light.

The moon continued to swell. Like a moment from a dream, the moon split into two halves, dividing in the sky directly over
where Lena stood. The moonlight behind her seemed to form a giant, luminous butterfly, with two brilliant, glowing wings. One green, one gold.

A cracking sound echoed across the cave, and Lena screamed.

The light disappeared. The Dark Fire disappeared. There was no altar, no pyre, and we were back on the ground.

The air was perfectly still. I thought it was over, but I was wrong.

Lightning sliced through the air, splitting into two distinct paths, hitting its targets simultaneously.

Larkin.

His face twisted in terror as his body seized, then started to blacken. He seemed to be burning from the inside out. Black cracks crawled along his skin until he turned to dust, blowing across the cave floor.

The second bolt traveled in the opposite direction, hitting Twyla.

Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body fell to the ground, as if her spirit had stepped out and tossed it aside. But she didn't turn to dust. Her lifeless body lay on the ground as Twyla rose above it, shimmering and fading until she became translucent.

Then the haze began to settle, the particles rearranging until Twyla looked more as she had in life. Whatever she had left behind in this life, it was finished. If she had business here again, it would be because she chose to. Twyla wasn't tethered to this world. She was free. And she looked peaceful, as if she knew something we didn't.

As she rose up through the crack in the cave ceiling toward the moon, she stopped. For a second, I wasn't sure what was happening as she hovered there.

Good-bye,
cher.

I don't know if she really said it, or if I imagined it, but she reached out a luminous hand and smiled. I lifted my own hand toward the sky and watched as Twyla faded into the moonlight.

A single star appeared in the Caster sky — a sky I could see, but only for a second. The Southern Star. It had found its rightful place, back in the sky.

Lena had made her choice.

She had Claimed herself.

Even if I wasn't sure what that meant, she was still with me. I hadn't lost her.

Claim yourself.

My mom would be proud of us.

6.21

L
ena stood straight and tall, a dark silhouette against the moon. She didn't cry, and she wasn't screaming. Her feet had settled on the ground, on either side of the giant crack that now marked the cave, splitting it almost entirely in two.

“What just happened?” Liv was looking at Amma and Arelia for answers.

I followed Lena's eyes across the great expanse of rocks and understood her silence. She was in shock, staring at one familiar face.

“It appears Abraham has been interfering with the Order of Things.” Macon stood in the cave entrance framed by light from a moon that was beginning to stitch itself back together. Leah and Bade were at his side. I wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, but I could tell from the look on his face he had seen everything. He walked slowly, still adjusting to the feeling
of his feet touching the ground. Bade kept pace with him, and Leah kept one hand on his arm.

Lena softened at the sound of his voice, a voice from the grave. I heard the thought, barely a whisper. She was afraid to even think it.

Uncle Macon?

Her face went white. I remembered how I felt when I saw my mother at the cemetery.

“An impressive little trick you and Sarafine managed to pull off, Grandfather. I'll give you that. Calling a Claiming Moon out of time? You've outdone yourself, really.” Macon's voice echoed in the cavern. The air was so still, so quiet, you couldn't hear anything except the low churning of the tides. “Naturally, when I heard you were coming, I had to make an appearance.” Macon waited, as if he was expecting an answer. But when he didn't get one, he snapped. “Abraham! I see your hand in this.”

The cave began to shake. Rocks fell from the jagged crack in the ceiling, beating down onto the floor. It felt like the whole cavern was about to collapse. The sky above grew darker. The green-eyed Macon — the Light Caster, if that's what he truly was — seemed even more powerful than the Incubus he was before.

A rumbling laugh echoed off the rock walls. Down on the watery cave floor, where the moon no longer shone, Abraham stepped out of the shadows. With his white beard and matching white suit, he looked like a harmless old man instead of the Darkest of Blood Incubuses. Hunting stayed at his side.

Abraham stood over Sarafine, whose body was lying on the ground. She had turned completely white, covered in a thick layer of frost, an icy cocoon.

“You call on me, boy?” The old man laughed again, sharp and quick. “Ah, the hubris of youth. In a hundred years, you will learn your place, Grandson.” I tried to mentally calculate the generations between them — four, maybe even five.

“I am well aware of my place, Grandfather. Unfortunately, and this is exceptionally awkward, I believe I'll be the one to send you back to yours.”

Abraham smoothed his beard deliberately. “Little Macon Ravenwood. You were always such a lost boy. This is your doing, not mine. Blood is Blood, just as Dark is Dark. You should have remembered where your allegiances lie.” He paused, looking at Leah. “You would have done well to remember that, too, my dear. But then, you were raised by a Caster.” He shuddered.

I could see the anger in Leah's face, but I could also see the fear. She was willing to try her luck with the Blood pack, but she didn't want to challenge Abraham.

Abraham looked at Hunting. “On the subject of lost boys, where is John?”

“Long gone. Coward.”

Abraham whipped around to face Hunting. “John isn't capable of cowardice. It's not in his
nature
. And his life means more to me than yours. So I suggest you find him.”

Hunting lowered his eyes and nodded. I couldn't help but wonder why John Breed was so important to Abraham, who didn't seem to care about anyone.

Macon watched Abraham carefully. “It's touching to see how concerned you are about your boy. I certainly hope you find him. I know how painful it is to lose a child.”

The cavern started to shake again, and rocks fell around our
feet. “What have you done with John?” In his rage, Abraham seemed less like a harmless old man and more like the Demon he truly was.

“What have I done with him? I think the question is what have you done
to
him?” Abraham's black eyes narrowed, but Macon only smiled. “An Incubus who can walk in the sunlight and retain his strength without feeding … it would require a very specific coupling to produce those qualities in a child. Wouldn't you agree? Scientifically speaking, you would need Mortal qualities, yet this boy John possesses the gifts of a Caster. He can't have three parents, which means his mother was —”

Leah gasped. “An Evo.” Every Caster in the room reacted to the word. The surprise spread like a ripple, a new kind of coldness in the air. Only Amma looked impassive. She folded her arms and fixed her eyes on Abraham Ravenwood as if he was just another chicken she was planning on plucking, skinning, and boiling in her banged-up pot.

I tried to remember what Lena told me about Evos. They were metamorphs, with the ability to mirror human form. They didn't just step inside a Mortal body, like Sarafine. Evos could actually become Mortals for short periods of time.

Macon smiled. “Precisely. A Caster that can take on human form long enough to conceive a child, with all the DNA of a Mortal and a Caster on one side and an Incubus on the other. You have been busy, haven't you, Grandfather? I didn't realize you were matchmaking in your spare time.”