by Kami Garcia
Not this again, Rid thought, unwrapping her second cherry lollipop and rolling it over her stained red tongue.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Rid said, in her best I’m-older-than-you-and-I-know-everything voice. “I think the whole getting run out of Salem Junior High like we were actual witches spooked her.”
Lena exhaled dramatically and glared at her cousin. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have acted like a witch.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I’ll try to remember that when we move to the next loser town.” Ridley leaned back and stared up at the blue sky. It reminded her of rock candy and iced tea that was sweeter than anywhere else in the world.
“It was an accident,” Rid said finally, pretending she’d been thinking about the incident in Salem instead of Southern sweets. “How was I supposed to know the Notati Cast would turn their fingers black?”
“Maybe because notati means Marking in Latin, and Uncle Macon used to do it all the time,” Lena said.
Ridley couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way the girls’ arms had turned black all the way up to their elbows. They got exactly what they deserved.
Salem was a small town, like most of the places Gramma made them move. Small towns were all alike; if you didn’t look the same as everyone else (which Rid and Lena never did) and act just like everyone else (which Ridley refused to even consider doing), you were instantly branded an outsider—someone who didn’t belong. And that’s how you were treated.
Ridley bit into the lollipop with a loud cracking sound. “Those stuck-up idiots teased you for months, and they had you backed up against your locker like they were planning to shove you in there. They’re lucky I didn’t turn their whole bodies blue.”
Lena stiffened when Ridley mentioned the incident. “I doubt they were going to push me in a locker. They were just—”
“Bullying you? Tormenting you? Humiliating you?” Rid pushed up onto her elbows. “Should I keep going?”
Lena’s black curls twisted in the air around her, but unlike Ridley, Lena didn’t have any control of her abilities. Ridley wasn’t even sure she knew what they were yet.
Rid stood up and brushed the mud off her pink shorts. “I did us both a favor. Trust me. School is boring. Mortals are worse.”
Lena stared at the empty beach below her grandmother’s house, nestled in the cliffs. “Like this is exciting?” she said. “We’re probably the only teenagers on this side of the island. At least in Salem, we could go to the movies or the library. What are we going to do here all summer?”
“We’ll think of something,” Ridley said, walking back into the sunroom.
Lena followed, an irritated tone edging its way into her voice. “You don’t mind being stuck here because you think your boyfriend will show up again.”
Ridley’s cheeks flushed. “Shut up. He wasn’t my boyfriend. I don’t even know anything about him.”
Except that it felt like he knew me, Ridley thought. Like we were the same, and something was pulling us together.
Lena kept talking. “It doesn’t matter how much you know about him. He almost kissed you.”
Ridley shook her head and grabbed a handful of candied seahorses from the dish on the coffee table as she walked through the cozy living room. She never should’ve told Lena about what happened with the mysterious Caster boy she met on the beach last summer. Ridley had never seen him again after that day, but she’d spent more than a few class periods daydreaming about him.
How could she forget the way he’d looked at her? His eyes had swallowed Ridley whole—like she was beautiful and special, instead of a troublemaker.
“Earth to Ridley Duchannes,” Lena said, waving a hand in front of her cousin’s eyes.
“What?” Rid glared at Lena, then paused at the foot of the spiral staircase, listening. Muffled voices drifted down from the second floor. “Shh.” Ridley held up her hand, signaling Lena to be quiet. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.
Visitors.
Ridley could barely make out their grandmother’s voice. Luckily, she had plenty of experience eavesdropping.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your wife’s disappearance,” Gramma said. “But I’m not sure how I can help.”
“She didn’t disappear, Ms. Duchannes. My wife was kidnapped,” a man said.
A chill ran up Ridley’s spine.
“What are they saying?” Lena whispered. “I can’t hear anything.”
“Shh.” Rid held a finger to her lips. “Someone was kidnapped.” Finally something’s happening around here, she Kelted. Nothing interested Ridley more than danger.
“Who?” Lena looked nervous.
Rid shrugged and Kelted back, I don’t know.
Gramma and the man continued talking, but they had lowered their voices, making it harder for Ridley to figure out exactly what they were saying. She only caught snippets of the conversation.
“He treats them like slaves…” the man said. “… heard talk in the Underground.”
“Silas is deeply disturbed, I’m afraid,” Gramma said. “I don’t have any contact with him for that very reason.”
China rattled, as if someone had knocked over a plate or cup.
Did you hear that? Rid Kelted.
Loud and clear, Lena Kelted back.
Why are they talking about Silas Ravenwood? And who’s that guy up there with Gramma?
I don’t know, Lena responded silently.
“He’s not working alone,” the man said. “But my memory comes and goes all the time now. My son thinks it’s the effect of some kind of Cast.”
“I’m sorry for everything you’re going through,” Gramma said quietly. “I truly am. But I’m raising two girls myself, and I can’t afford to get involved with anything that might put them in danger.”
“Word has it that Silas has a Cataclyst working with him. If that’s true, it could put every Light Caster in danger. Are you willing to get involved now?” the man asked.
The sound of footsteps above them sent Lena and Ridley sliding across the floor and down the stairs. They flattened themselves against the wall beneath the staircase.
“I don’t mean to interrupt.” The voice belonged to Macon Ravenwood. “But Ms. Duchannes has been very gracious by inviting you into her home, and I sense you have overstayed your welcome, Mr.—?”
Uncle Macon. Rid looked at Lena. So whatever they’re talking about is serious.
“It all makes sense now,” the mystery man snapped. “Why would you want to help if you’re involved with a Blood Incubus like Silas?”
Lena looked panicked.
Don’t worry. Uncle M is with her, Ridley reassured her cousin.
“Sir, I’m asking you kindly—” Uncle Macon began.
“I’m leaving,” the man said, followed by the sound of footfalls on the landing above them. “I’m raising a child, too, Ms. Duchannes, and my son is suffering without his mother. Silas Ravenwood is a monster, and with a Cataclyst on his side, we should all be afraid. Even you, Mr. Ravenwood.”
Ridley held her breath as the man’s footsteps pounded against the stairs. Gramma and Uncle Macon didn’t follow, but she knew they were probably standing on the landing, watching the unwelcome visitor see himself to the door. She only caught a glimpse of the man as he passed them.
Lena pointed above their heads and Kelted, Don’t say anything. They’re right above us.
Ridley glared at her. Do you think I’m stupid?
“Well, that was unpleasant, to say the least,” Gramma said. “It would be nice if the neighbors at one of the houses I own didn’t despise me.”
“The conversation was informative, nonetheless,” Macon said. “It seems Ridley’s little stunt at school was well timed.”
Ridley shot her cousin a smug smile. See?
Lena rolled her eyes.
“There’s only one thing I need to know.” Gramma paused for a moment before continuing. “Is Lena safe here?”
At first, Rid was
n’t sure she’d heard her grandmother correctly.
Lena gave her a confused look. What is she talking about? she Kelted frantically.
Before Ridley’s answer surfaced in Lena’s mind, Uncle Macon responded, his voice heavy. “I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect her,” he said.
“You didn’t answer the question, Macon.” Gramma sounded worried.
Uncle Macon was silent for a moment. “As safe as Lena can ever be.”
VII. The Angry Queen
That same night, thousands of miles away in Wader’s Creek, South Carolina, Amma Treadeau shuffled the old gilded deck of cards she had been reading since she was a child. Most people mistook them for tarot cards, but they were far more powerful. Cards of Providence offered answers to a Seer’s questions if you asked the right ones—and you weren’t afraid to find out the answers.
Amma had avoided the cards lately. She’d been plagued by disturbing dreams for the last week, and she hadn’t wanted to face whatever the cards had to tell her. But she couldn’t hide from them, not anymore. There was a child in the most recent dream, and even though Amma couldn’t remember any other detail about the child, it was enough to force her into action.
What if Ethan, Mitchell and Lila’s beautiful boy—who was practically Amma’s child, too—was in some kind of danger?
I’d never forgive myself, and that’s the truth, Amma thought. Not with everything she already knew about the future the fourteen-year-old boy had ahead of him. A Seer couldn’t see everything a person’s destiny held, but Amma already knew more than she wanted to.
“It’s time,” she said to herself, spreading the cards facedown on her kitchen table. She flipped the cards over one by one, and by the time she had turned the fifth card, she knew the dreams had nothing to do with her boy, Ethan.
When Amma turned the final card, she stared at the spread, her heart pounding.
The Angry Queen.
The Hourglass in the inverted position.
The Child of Darkness.
The Wheel of Fate…
No.
Amma scattered the cards across the table. She couldn’t stand to look at them a second longer. She’d been right about one thing, all right: There had been a girl in her dreams—not much younger than Ethan.
The universe is like an old quilt, Amma’s Aunt Delilah used to say. Pull too hard on one thread, and you’re bound to loosen another. Before you know it, the whole thing will unravel.
It was what Amma feared most—tugging on the wrong thread and unraveling the whole darn thing herself.
That’s what happens when you make a deal with a devil, Amma thought. Especially if his name’s Macon Ravenwood. Too late now. What’s done is done.
Amma picked up the receiver of the rotary phone on the kitchen wall and dialed the number she had rehearsed in her head so many times that she knew it by heart.
The phone rang on the other end, and Amma waited. What was she going to say? She hadn’t thought that far ahead. After the seventh ring, she had started to hang up when she heard Emmaline Duchannes’ familiar voice.
“Hello?”
Amma took a deep breath and steeled herself. “It’s Amma Treadeau.”
“What’s wrong?” The Caster sounded panicked.
As you should be, Amma thought.
“I saw somethin’ in the cards. She’s comin’ for the child.” Amma swallowed hard, dreading the part she had to say next. “She knows, Emmaline.”
“What?” Emmaline asked. “Can you repeat the last part? The reception is terrible here on the island.”
Sarafine Duchannes.
Amma almost couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Instead, she let her fingers curl around the old wooden spoon on her counter like it was a sword and took a deep breath before she spoke the words that would change everything.
“Sarafine knows Lena survived the fire.”
VIII. Sacrifices
Lena didn’t say a word as she stared at the little blue book in her hands.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ethan said. He grabbed her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. The coast was clear if they needed to bolt, which Ethan was pretty sure they did. Gramma and Aunt Del had moved on to their tea on the veranda.
“Can you imagine changing your fundamental nature to save a child’s life?” Lena’s eyes were bright and teary.
“Of course I can, especially if you’re the child we’re talking about. Love is like that. Your Uncle Macon would do anything for you.” He pulled her into his arms. “So would I. Because you’re worth it, L.”
“Love is pretty incredible,” she said softly.
“You’re pretty incredible.” Ethan nuzzled Lena’s neck and took the book out of her hand. “I think this is the perfect something blue for Mrs. English. It saved the life of the girl I love, which makes it lucky, as far as I’m concerned.”
She slid her arms around his waist. “That’s so sweet and—”
“Cheesy?” Ethan finished. “When did we turn into a Hallmark movie?”
Lena smiled. “Your dad’s wedding is making everyone sentimental. We have to save ourselves, or we’ll end up like them.”
Ethan leaned close. “Would that really be so bad?”
Lena’s lips were on his before he could finish the sentence.
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About the Authors
Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl are longtime friends and coauthors of the #1 New York Times bestselling Beautiful Creatures novels. The first book in the series, Beautiful Creatures, is now a major motion picture. In addition to writing together, they have written solo series: The Legion Series, by Kami Garcia, includes the instant New York Times bestseller and Bram Stoker Award nominee Unbreakable and the Bram Stoker Award nominee Unmarked; and the Icons series, by Margaret Stohl, includes Icons, which is currently in development as a feature film, and Idols. Kami and Margaret invite you to visit them online at kamigarcia.com and margaret-stohl.com.
MORE GREAT STORIES FROM KAMI GARCIA AND MARGARET STOHL
Beautiful Creatures
Beautiful Darkness
Beautiful Chaos
Beautiful Redemption
Dream Dark: A Beautiful Creatures Story
Dangerous Dream: A Beautiful Creatures Story
Dangerous Creatures
Dangerous Deception
ALSO BY KAMI GARCIA
Unbreakable: The Legion Series Book 1
Unmarked: The Legion Series Book 2
“Tense and deliciously twisty, Unbreakable is a breath-stealing midnight run through some of the creepiest locales I’ve seen rendered in fiction.”
—Ransom Riggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children
ALSO BY MARGARET STOHL
Icons: The Icons Series Book 1
Idols: The Icons Series Book 2
“Epic in scale and exquisite in detail—a haunting futuristic fable of loss and love.”
—Ally Condie, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Matched trilogy
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Welcome
Authors’ Note
Dedication
Epigraph
I. Something Blue
Seventeen Years Earlier II. Let It Rain
III. The Bright One
IV. The Dark One
V. Caster Girls
VI. Secrets by the Sea
VII. The Angry Queen
VIII. Sacrifices
About the Authors
More Great Stories from Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author�
��s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Kami Garcia, LLC, and Margaret Stohl, Inc.
Cover photo © Shutterstock/Ilya Andriyanov
Cover design by Maggie Edkins
Cover © 2015 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First ebook edition: October 2015
ISBN 978-0-316-30329-3
E3
