Beautiful Darkness

  Find the marker, walk the mile,

  Seventeen knows just exile…

  “I hear it. We must be close.” I followed the song as it looped over and over in my head.

  Link looked at me like I was crazy. “Hear what?”

  “Nothing. Just follow me.”

  The huge metal doors lining the filthy street were all the same, dented and scratched, as if they’d been attacked by an enormous animal or something worse. Except for the last door, the one with Seventeen Moons playing inside. It was painted black and covered with more Caster graffiti. But one of the symbols looked different, and it wasn’t spray-painted on the door. It was carved into it. I ran my fingers over the cuts in the wood. “This one looks different, almost Celtic.”

  Liv’s voice was a whisper. “Not Celtic. Niadic. It’s an ancient Caster language. A lot of the older scrolls in the Lunae Libri are written in it.”

  “What does it say?”

  She examined the symbol carefully. “Niadic doesn’t translate directly into words. I mean, you can’t think about the words as words, not exactly. This symbol means place, or moment, either in physical space or time.” She ran her finger over a slash in the wood. “But this line cuts through it, see? So now the place becomes a lack of place, a no place.”

  “How can a place be a no place? You’re either in a place, or you’re not.” But as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I had been in a no place for months now, and so had Lena.

  She looked up at me. “I think it says something like ‘Exile.’ ”

  Seventeen knows just exile.

  “That’s exactly what it says.”

  Liv gave me a strange look. “You can’t know that, or do you suddenly speak Niadic?” She had a gleam in her eye, as if this was further proof I might be a Wayward.

  “I heard it in a song.” I reached for the door, but Liv grabbed my arm. “Ethan, this isn’t a game. This isn’t the pie-baking contest at the county fair. You’re not in Gatlin anymore. There are dangerous things down here, creatures far more deadly than Ridley and her lollipops.”

  I knew she was trying to scare me, but it wasn’t working. Since the night of Lena’s birthday, I knew more about the dangers of the Caster world than any librarian could, Keeper or not. I didn’t blame her for being afraid. You would have to be stupid not to be—like me.

  “You’re right. It’s not the library. I’ll understand if you guys don’t want to go in there, but I have to. Lena’s here, somewhere.”

  Link pushed open the door and walked in like it was the Jackson High locker room. “Whatever. I’m into dangerous creatures.”

  I shrugged and followed him. Liv tightened her hand around the strap of her knapsack, ready to swing it at someone’s head if necessary. She took a tentative step, and the door closed behind her.

  Inside it was even darker than on the street. Huge crystal chandeliers, completely out of place among the exposed pipes overhead, provided the only light. The rest of the room was pure industrial rave. It was one gigantic space, with circular booths covered in dark red velvet scattered around the perimeter. Some were surrounded by heavy drapes attached to tracks in the ceiling so they could be closed around the booth, the way the curtains close around hospital beds. There was a bar in the back, in front of a round chrome door with a handle.

  Link spotted it, too. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I nodded. “A vault.”

  The weird chandeliers, the bar that looked more like a counter, the huge windows covered haphazardly with black tape, the vault. This place could have been a bank once, if Casters had banks. I wondered what they had kept behind that door—or maybe I didn’t want to know.

  But nothing was weirder than the people, or whatever they were. The crowd surged and receded like at one of Macon’s parties, where time seemed to fade in and out, depending on where you looked. From turn-of-the-century suited gentlemen who looked like Mark Twain, with stiff white-winged collars and striped silk ties, to Goth-looking leather-clad punks, they were all drinking, dancing, and mingling.

  “Dude, tell me those creepy-lookin’ see-through people aren’t ghosts.” Link backed away from one hazy figure, nearly stepping into another. I didn’t want to tell him that’s exactly what they were. They looked like Genevieve in the graveyard, partially materialized, only here there were at least a dozen of them. But we had never seen Genevieve move. These ghosts weren’t floating around like the ones in cartoons. They were walking, dancing, moving like normal people, except they were doing it above the ground—the same pace and even strides, but their feet weren’t touching the floor. One glanced our way and raised an empty glass from the table as if offering a toast.

  “Am I seein’ things, or did that ghost pick up a glass?” Link elbowed Liv.

  She stepped between us, her hair brushing against my neck. Her voice was so quiet we had to lean in to hear her. “Technically, they aren’t called ghosts. They’re Sheers—souls who haven’t been able to cross over to the Otherworld because they have unfinished business in the Caster or Mortal world. I have no idea why there are so many out tonight. They usually keep to themselves. Something’s off.”

  “Everything about this place is off.” Link was still watching the Sheer with the glass. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

  “Yes, they can pick up anything they want. How do you think they slam doors and move furniture in haunted houses?”

  I wasn’t interested in haunted houses. “What kind of unfinished business?” I knew enough dead people with unfinished business. I didn’t want to meet any more tonight.

  “Something they left unresolved when they died—a powerful curse, a lost love, a shattered destiny. Use your imagination.”

  I thought about Genevieve and the locket and wondered how many lost secrets, how much unfinished business there was in the graveyards and cemeteries of Gatlin.

  Link stared at a beautiful girl with elaborate markings around her neck. They looked similar to the ones inked on Ridley and John. “I’d like to have some unfinished business with her.”

  “She’d like it, too. She would have you jumping off a cliff in no time.” I scanned the room.

  There was no sign of Lena. The more I looked around, the more I was grateful for the darkness. The booths were filling up with couples, drinking and making out, while the dance floor was packed with girls, spinning and turning like they were weaving some kind of web. Seventeen Moons wasn’t playing anymore, if it was ever playing at all. Now the music was harder, more intense, a Caster version of Nine Inch Nails. The girls were all dressed differently, one in a medieval gown, another in skintight leather. Then there were the Ridleys—girls in miniskirts and black tank tops, with red, blue, or violet streaks in their hair, sliding around one another, spinning a different kind of web. Maybe they were all Sirens. I couldn’t tell. But they were all beautiful, and they all had some version of Ridley’s dark tattoo.

  “Let’s check in the back.” I let Link go ahead so Liv could walk between us. Even though she was checking out every corner of the club as if she wanted to remember it all, I knew she was nervous. This was no place for a Mortal girl, or a Mortal guy, and I felt responsible for dragging Link and Liv into this. We kept close to the wall, circling the perimeter. But it was crowded, and I felt my shoulder bump against someone. Someone with a body.

  “Sorry.” I said instinctively.

  “No problem.” The guy stopped, noticing Liv. “Quite the opposite.” He winked at her. “You lost?” He smiled, his shiny black eyes gleaming in the darkness. She froze. The red liquid swirled in his glass as he leaned closer.

  Liv cleared her throat. “No. I’m fine, thanks. Just looking for a friend.”

  “I’ll be your friend.” He smiled. His white teeth were unnaturally bright in the dim light of the club.

  “A… different sort of friend, I’m afraid.” I could see Liv’s hand shaking where it held the strap of her knapsack.

  “If you find her, I’ll be ove
r here.” He turned back to the bar, where Incubuses were lined up to refill their glasses with red liquid from a strange glass tap. I tried not to think about it.

  Link pulled us against one of the velvet curtains on the wall. “I’m startin’ to get the feelin’ this was a bad idea.”

  “When did you come to this brilliant conclusion?” Liv’s sarcasm was lost on Link.

  “I don’t know, right about the time I saw that dude’s drink. Which I’m guessin’ wasn’t punch.” Link glanced around the room. “How do we even know if they’re here, man?”

  “They’re here.” Lena had to be here. I was about to tell Link about how I’d heard the song and could sense she was here, when a stripe of pink and blond hair spun onto the dance floor.

  Ridley.

  When she saw us, she stopped spinning, and I could see across the dance floor behind her. John Breed was dancing with a girl, her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands resting on her hips. Their bodies were pressed against each other, and they seemed to be in their own world. At least, that’s how it felt when my hands were resting on those hips. My hands balled into fists, and my stomach lurched. I knew it was her even before I saw the black curls.

  Lena—

  Ethan?

  6.15

  Vexed

  It’s not what you think.

  What do I think?

  She pushed John away as I crossed the dance floor. He turned around, his eyes black and menacing. Then he smiled to let me know I wasn’t a threat. He knew I was no match for him physically, and after seeing him and Lena on the dance floor together, I bet he didn’t consider me any other kind of threat anymore.

  What did I think?

  I knew I was in the moment before the thing happens—the thing that changes your life forever. It was like time stopped, even though everything around me was still moving. The thing I had dreaded for months was actually happening. Lena was slipping through my fingers. And it wasn’t because of her birthday, or her mother and Hunting, or any curse or Cast or attack.

  It was another guy.

  Ethan! You have to go.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  Ridley stepped in front of me, the dancers swelling around us. “Slow down, Boyfriend. I knew you had guts, but this is crazy.” She sounded concerned, like she actually gave a crap about what happened to me. It was a lie, like everything else about her.

  “Get out of my way, Ridley.”

  “You’re done here, Short Straw.”

  “Sorry, the lollipops don’t work on me, or whatever you and John are using to manipulate Lena.”

  She grabbed my arm, her icy fingers cutting into my skin. I had forgotten how strong she was, and how cold. She lowered her voice. “Don’t be stupid. You’re way out of your league and way out of your mind.”

  “You should know.”

  She tightened her grip on my arm. “You don’t wanna do this. You shouldn’t be in here. Go home before—”

  “Before what? Before you cause even more trouble than usual?” Link caught up to me. Ridley locked eyes with him. For a second, I thought there was a flutter, the slightest spark in her eye, like the sight of Link called up something almost human in her. Something that made her as vulnerable as he was. It disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced.

  Ridley was rattled and starting to panic. I could tell by the way she was unwrapping a lollipop before she could even get the words out of her mouth. “What the hell are you doing here? Get out of here now, and take him with you.” The playful tone was gone. “Go!” She shoved us both as hard as she could.

  I stood my ground. “I’m not going until I talk to Lena.”

  “She doesn’t want you here.”

  “She’ll have to tell me that herself.”

  Say it to my face, L.

  Lena was winding her way through the crowd. John Breed hung back, his eyes fixed on us. I didn’t want to imagine what she must have said to him to keep him there. That she would handle this? It was nothing, just a guy who couldn’t get over her? Some desperate Mortal who couldn’t compete with everything she had now?

  Like him.

  She had John, and he had me beat in the only way that counted. He was part of her world.

  I’m not leaving unless you say it.

  Ridley dropped her voice, more serious than I’d ever seen her. “We don’t have time to screw around. I know you’re bent outta shape, but you don’t understand. He’ll kill you, and if you’re lucky, the rest of them won’t join in for fun.”

  “Who, Vampire Boy? We can take him.” Link was lying, but there was no way he wouldn’t go down swinging, either for me or for her.

  Ridley shook her head, pushing him farther back. “You can’t, you idiot. This is no place for a couple of Boy Scouts. Get out of here.” She reached for Link’s cheek, but he grabbed her wrist before she could touch him. Ridley was like a beautiful snake—you couldn’t let her get close without the risk of being bitten.

  Lena was only a few feet away.

  If you don’t want me here, tell me yourself.

  A part of me believed if we were close enough, I could break whatever hold Ridley and John had over her.

  Lena stopped behind Ridley. Her expression was unreadable, but I could see the silvery streak where a single tear had fallen.

  Say it, L. Say it, or come with me.

  Lena’s eyes flickered, and she looked past me to where Liv was standing at the edge of the dance floor.

  “Lena, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what Ridley and John are doing to you—”

  “No one is doing anything to me, and I’m not the one in danger here. I’m not a Mortal.” Lena looked over at Liv.

  Like her.

  Lena’s face darkened, and I could see her stray curls beginning to twist.

  “You’re not like them either, L.”

  The lights in the bar flickered, and the bulbs shattered over the dance floor, sending sparks and tiny pieces of glass over both of us. The crowd, even that crowd, started moving away from us. “You’re wrong. I am like them. This is where I belong.”

  “Lena, we can figure this out.”

  “No, we can’t, Ethan. Not this.”

  “Haven’t we made it through everything else together?”

  “No. Not together. You don’t know anything about me anymore.” For a second, something passed across her face. Sadness, maybe? Regret?

  I wish things could be different, but they can’t.

  She started to walk away.

  I can’t go where you’re going, Lena.

  I know.

  You’ll be all alone.

  She didn’t turn around.

  I’m already alone, Ethan.

  Then tell me to go. If that’s what you really want.

  She stopped walking and turned slowly to look at me.

  “I don’t want you here, Ethan.” Lena disappeared across the dance floor, away from me. Before I could take a step, I heard the rip—

  John Breed materialized in front of me, black leather jacket and all. “Me neither.”

  We were only a few feet apart. “I’m going, but it’s not because of you.” He smiled, and his green eyes glowed.

  I turned and pushed my way through the crowd. I didn’t care if I pissed off someone who could drink my blood or make me jump off a cliff. I kept moving because more than anything else, I wanted to get out of there. The heavy wooden door slammed behind me, shutting out the music, the lights, and the Casters.

  But it didn’t shut out what I was hoping for. The image of his hands on her hips, swaying to the music, her twisting black hair. Lena in the arms of some other guy.

  I barely noticed as the alley turned from modern-day asphalt and filth back to cobblestones. How long had it been going on, and what had happened between them?

  Casters and Mortals can’t be together. That’s what the visions were telling me, as if the Caster world didn’t think I understood by now.

  I heard the sound of footst
eps echoing against the cobblestones behind me. “Ethan, are you okay?” Liv put her hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t realized she was following me.

  I turned around, but I didn’t know what to say. I was standing on a street out of the past, in an underground Caster Tunnel, thinking about Lena with some guy who was my polar opposite. A guy who could take whatever I had, whenever he wanted. Tonight had proven it.

  “I don’t know what to do. This isn’t Lena. Ridley and John have some kind of hold on her.”

  Liv bit her bottom lip nervously. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Lena’s making her own decisions.”

  Liv didn’t understand. She had never seen what Lena was really like before Macon died and John Breed showed up. “There’s no way you can be sure. You heard Aunt Marian. We don’t know what kind of powers John has.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” Liv was speaking in absolutes, and there was nothing absolute about what was happening to Lena and to me.

  “You don’t know her—”

  Liv’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Ethan, her eyes are gold.”

  The words echoed in my head, like I was underwater. My emotions sank like a stone as logic and reason fought their way to the surface.

  Her eyes are gold.

  It was such a small detail, but it meant everything. No one could force her to go Dark, or make her eyes turn gold.

  Lena wasn’t being controlled. No one was using the Power of Persuasion to manipulate her into jumping onto the back of John’s bike. No one was forcing her to be with him. She was making her own choices, and she was choosing him. I don’t want you here, Ethan. I heard the words over and over. Which wasn’t even the worst part. She meant them.

  Everything felt hazy and slow, like none of this could really be happening.

  Liv’s face was full of concern as she stared up at me with her blue eyes. There was something soothing about their blueness—not the green of a Light Caster, or the black of an Incubus, or the gold of a Dark Caster. She was different from Lena in the most important way. She was a Mortal. Liv wasn’t going to go Light or Dark or run off with a guy with superhuman strength who could suck your blood or steal your dreams while you slept. Liv was training to be a Keeper, but even then she would still be an observer. Like me, she would never really be part of the Caster world. Right then, there was nothing I wanted more than to be as far away from that world as I could get.