Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 29

It’s about time.” Her arms crossed impatiently, Amma was staring at the opening in the old stone
wall when we stepped through.
Uncle Macon was right; she didn’t like to be kept waiting.
Marian gently put her hand on Amma’s shoulder. “I’m sure it was difficult to round everyone
up.”
Amma sniffed, ignoring the excuse. “There’s difficult, and then there’s difficult.”
John and Liv were sitting on the ground next to each other, Liv’s head resting casually on
John’s shoulder. Uncle Barclay stepped through after me and helped Aunt Del navigate the broken
pieces of the wall. She blinked hard, staring at a spot not far from Genevieve’s grave. She swayed,
and Uncle Barclay steadied her.
The layers of time were obviously peeling themselves back, the way they did only for Aunt Del.
I wondered what she saw. So much had happened at Greenbrier. Ethan Carter Wate’s death,
the first time Genevieve used The Book of Moons to bring him back, the day Ethan and I found her
locket and had the vision, and the night Aunt Del used her powers to show us those pieces of
Genevieve’s past in this very spot.
But everything had changed since then. The day Ethan and I were trying to figure out how to
repair the Order and I accidentally burned the grass beneath us.
When I watched my mother burn to death.
Can Aunt Del see all of it? Can she see that?
An unexpected feeling of shame washed over me, and I secretly hoped she couldn’t.
Amma nodded at Gramma. “Emmaline. You’re lookin’ well.”
Gramma smiled. “As are you, Amarie.”
Uncle Macon was the last one to enter the lost garden. He lingered near the wall, an
uncharacteristic and almost imperceptible unease about him.
Amma locked eyes with him, as if they were having a conversation that only they could hear.
The tension was impossible to ignore. I hadn’t seen them together since the night we lost
Ethan. And both of them claimed everything was fine.
But now that they were standing only feet apart, it was clear nothing was fine. Actually, Amma
looked like she wanted to tear my uncle’s head off.
“Amarie,” he said slowly, bowing his head respectfully.
“I’m surprised you showed up. Aren’t you worried some a my wickedness might stain those
fancy shoes a yours?” she said. “Wouldn’t want that. Not when your party shoes cost such a pretty
penny.”
What is she talking about?
Amma was a saint—at least that’s how I’d always thought of her.
Gramma and Aunt Del exchanged glances, looking equally confused. Marian turned away. She
knew something, but she wasn’t saying.
“Grief makes people desperate,” Uncle M responded. “If anyone understands that, I do.”
Amma turned her back on him, facing the whiskey and shot glass lying on the ground next to
The Book of Moons. “I’m not sure you understand anything that doesn’t suit your purpose,
Melchizedek. If I didn’t think we’d need your help, I would send you packin’ straight back to your
house.”
“That’s hardly fair. I was trying to protect you—” Uncle Macon stopped when he noticed we
were all staring. All of us except Marian and John, who were doing everything they could not to
look at Amma or my uncle. That pretty much meant looking at the mud on the ground or The Book
of Moons, neither of which was going to make anyone any less uncomfortable.
Amma spun back around to face Uncle Macon. “Next time, try protectin’ me a little less and
my boy a little more. If there is a next time.”
Did she blame Uncle Macon for not doing a better job of protecting Ethan when he was alive?
It didn’t make any sense….
“Why are you two fighting like this?” I demanded. “You’re acting like Reece and Ridley.”
“Hey,” said Reece. Rid just shrugged.
I shot Amma and my uncle a look. “I thought we were here to help Ethan.”
Amma sniffed, and my uncle looked unhappy, but neither of them said a word.
Marian finally spoke up. “I think we’re all worried. It would probably be best if we put
everything else aside and focused on the issue at hand. Amma, what is it you need us to do?”
Amma didn’t take her eyes off my uncle. “Need the Casters to form a circle around me.
Mortals can spread out between ’em. We need the power a this world to hand that evil thing off to
the ones who can take it the rest a the way.”
“The Greats, right?” I hoped so.
She nodded. “If they answer.”
If they answered? Was there a chance they wouldn’t?
Amma pointed to the ground at my feet. “Lena, I need you to bring me the Book.”
I lifted the dusty leather volume and felt the power pulsing through it like a heartbeat.
“The Book’s not gonna want to go,” Amma explained. “It wants to stay here, where it can
cause trouble. Like your cousin there.” Ridley rolled her eyes, but Amma only looked at me. “I’ll
call the Greats, but you need to keep a hand on it till they take it.”
What was it going to do? Fly away?
“Everyone else, make that circle. Hold hands nice and tight.”
After Ridley and Link bickered about holding hands, and Reece refused to hold hands with
Ridley or John, they finally completed the circle.
Amma glanced over at me. “The Greats haven’t been exactly happy with me. They may not
come. And if they do, I can’t promise they’ll take the Book.”
I couldn’t imagine the Greats being upset with Amma. They were her family, and they had
come to our rescue more than once.
We just needed them to do it one more time.
“I need the Casters to concentrate everything you got inside the circle.” Amma bent down and
filled the shot glass with Wild Turkey. She drank the shot and then refilled it for Uncle Abner. “I
don’t care what happens—you send the power my way.”
“What if you get hurt?” Liv asked, concerned.
Amma stared back at Liv, her expression twisted and broken. “Can’t get any more hurt than I
am already. You just hold on.”
Uncle Macon stepped forward, dropping Aunt Del’s hand. “Would it help if I assisted you?” he
asked Amma.
She pointed a shaky finger at him. “You get outta my circle. You can do your part from there.”
I felt a surge of heat from the Book, as if its anger flared to meet Amma’s.
Uncle Macon stepped back and joined hands with everyone else. “One day you will forgive me,
Amarie.”
Her dark eyes narrowed to meet his green ones. “Not today.”
Amma closed her eyes, and my hair began to curl involuntarily as she spoke the words only she
could.
“Blood a my blood,
and roots a my soul,
I’m in need a your intercession.”
The wind began to whip around me within the circle, and lightning cracked overhead. I felt the
heat of the Book joining with the heat of my hands, the heat I could command—to burn and
destroy.
Amma didn’t stop, as if she was talking to the sky.
“I call you to carry what I cannot.
To see what I cannot.
To do what I cannot.”
A green glow surged from Uncle Macon’s hands and spread around the circle from one hand
to the next. Gramma closed her eyes, as if she was trying to channel Macon’s power. John noticed
and closed his eyes, too, and the light intensified.
Lightning tore across the sky, but the universe didn’t open up, and the Greats didn’t appear.
Where are you? I pleaded silently.
Amma tried again.
“This is the crossroads I can’t cross.
Only you can take this book to my boy.
Deliver it to your world from ours.”
I concentrated harder, ignoring the heat of the Book in my hands. I heard a branch break, then
another. I opened my eyes, and a burst of flames sprang up outside the circle. It caught like
someone had lit the wick on a stick of dynamite, tearing through the grass and creating another
circle outside the first.
The Wake of Fire—the uncontrollable flames that ignited sometimes against my will. The
garden was burning again because of me. How many times could this earth char before the damage
was irreparable?
Amma squeezed her eyes tighter. This time she spoke the words plainly. They weren’t a chant
but a plea. “I know you don’t wanna come for me. So come for Ethan. He’s waitin’ on you, and
you’re as much his family as you are mine. Do the right thing. One last time. Uncle Abner. Aunt
Delilah. Aunt Ivy. Grandmamma Sulla. Twyla. Please.”
The sky opened up, and rain poured down from the heavens. But the fire still raged, and the
Caster light still glowed.
I saw something small and black circling above us.
The crow.
Ethan’s crow.
Amma opened her eyes and saw it, too. “That’s right, Uncle Abner. Don’t punish Ethan for my
mistakes. I know you been lookin’ after him over there, the same way you’ve always looked after
us down here. He needs this book. Maybe you know why, even if I don’t.”
The crow circled closer and closer, and the faces began to appear in the dark sky, one by one
—their features carving themselves out of the universe above us.
Uncle Abner appeared first, his lined face creased by time.
The crow landed on his shoulder like a tiny mouse at the feet of a giant.
Sulla the Prophet was next, regal braids cascading over her shoulder. Strands of tangled beads
rested against her chest as if they weighed nothing. Or were worth the weight.
The Book of Moons bucked in my hands, as if trying to pull free. But I knew it wasn’t the
Greats reaching for it.
The Book was resisting.
I tightened my grip as Aunt Delilah and Aunt Ivy appeared simultaneously, holding hands and
looking down like they were evaluating the scene. Our intentions or our abilities—it was impossible
to know.
But they were judging us nonetheless. I could feel it, and the Book could, too. It tried to pull
free again, singeing the skin on my palms.
“Don’t let go!” Amma warned.
“I won’t,” I called over the wind. “Aunt Twyla, where are you?”
Aunt Twyla’s dark eyes appeared before her gentle face and arms laden with bracelets. Before
her braided hair knotted with charms, or the rows of earrings that marched down her ears.
“Ethan needs this!” I shouted over the wind and the rain and the fire.
The Greats stared down at us, but they didn’t react.
The Book of Moons did.
I felt the pulse beating within it, the power and rage spreading through my body like poison.
Don’t let go.
Images flashed in front of my eyes.
Genevieve holding the Book, speaking the words that would bring Ethan Carter Wate back for
a split second—and curse our family for generations.
Amma and me speaking the same words, standing over Ethan Lawson Wate—our Ethan.
His eyes opening and Uncle Macon’s closing.
Abraham standing over the Book as the fire threatened Ravenwood in the distance, his
brother’s voice begging him to stop, right before he killed Jonah.
I could see it all.
All the people this book had touched and hurt.
The people I knew and the ones I didn’t recognize.
I could feel it pulling away from me again, and I screamed louder this time.
Amma grabbed the Book, her hands over mine. Where parts of her skin were touching the
leather, I could feel her skin burning.
Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn’t let go.
“Help us,” I screamed into the sky.
It wasn’t the sky that answered.
Genevieve Duchannes materialized in the darkness, her hazy form close enough to touch.
Give it to me.
Amma could see her; it was obvious from her haunted expression. But I was the only one who
could hear her Kelting.
Her long red hair blew in the wind, in a way that seemed both impossible and right at the same
time.
I’ll take it. It doesn’t belong in this world. It never did.
I wanted to hand her the Book—to send it to Ethan and to stop Amma’s hands from burning.
But Genevieve was a Dark Caster. I only had to look at her yellow eyes to remember.
Amma was trembling.
Genevieve reached out her hand. What if I made the wrong choice? Ethan would never get the
Book, and I would never see him again….
How do I know I can trust you?
Genevieve’s heartbroken eyes stared back at me.
You’ll only know if you do.
The Greats looked down at us, and there was no way to know if they were going to help.
Amma’s Mortal hands were burning alongside my Caster ones, and The Book of Moons was no
closer to Ethan than when it was in Abraham Ravenwood’s hands, not long ago.
Sometimes there’s only one choice.
Sometimes you just have to jump.
Or let go…
Take it, Genevieve.
I pulled my hands away, and Amma’s moved with mine. The Book jerked free as if it sensed its
only chance at escape. It lurched toward the outer circle, where John and Link were holding hands.
The glowing green light was still in place, and John concentrated his gaze on the Book. “I don’t
think so.”
It hit the light and ricocheted back into the center of the circle and Genevieve’s waiting hands.
She closed her hazy palms around it, and the Book seemed to shudder.
Not this time.
I held my breath, listening to Amma cry.
Genevieve pressed the Book against her chest and dematerialized.
My heart dropped. “Amma! She took it!” I couldn’t think or feel or breathe. I had made the
wrong choice. I would never see Ethan again. My knees gave out, and I felt myself falling.
I heard a rip, and an arm caught me around the waist.
“Lena, look.” It was Link.
I blinked back the tears and looked at him, his free hand pointing at the sky.
Genevieve was there in the darkness, her red hair trailing behind her. She held The Book of
Moons out to Sulla, who took it from her hands.
Genevieve smiled at me.
You can trust me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
She disappeared, leaving the Greats looming in the sky behind her like giants.
Amma held her burnt hands to her chest and stared up at her family from another world. The
world where Ethan was trapped. Tears ran down her cheeks as the green glow died around us.
“You take that book to my boy, ya hear?”
Uncle Abner tipped his hat to her. “Be expectin’ a pie now, Amma. One a those lemon
meringues will do me just fine.”
Amma choked back a final sob as her legs gave out from under her.
I dropped with her, breaking her fall. I watched as the rain drowned out the fire and the Greats
disappeared. I had no way of knowing what was going to happen next. There was only one thing I
knew for sure.
Ethan had a chance now.
The rest was up to him.

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 30

L. Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m waiting. I know you’ll find the Book soon.
You wouldn’t believe this place. I feel like I’m living in a ten-thousand-year-old temple, or
maybe a fortress. You wouldn’t believe this guy either. My friend Xavier. At least I think he’s my
friend. He’s like a ten-thousand-year-old monk. Or maybe some kind of ancient temple wombat.
Do you know what waiting feels like in a world where no time passes? Minutes feel like
centuries—eternities—only worse, because you can’t even tell which is which.
I find myself counting things. Compulsively. It’s the only way I know how to mark the time.
Sixty-two plastic buttons. Eleven broken strands of between fourteen and thirty-six pearls each.
One hundred and nine old baseball cards. Nine AA batteries. Twelve thousand seven hundred and
fifty-four dollars and three cents in coins, from six countries. Or maybe just six centuries.
More or less.
I didn’t know how to count the doubloons.
This morning I counted grains of rice falling through the split seam of a stuffed frog. I don’t
know where Xavier finds this stuff. I made it to nine hundred ninety-nine, and then I lost my place
and had to start over again.
That was how I spent today.
Like I said, a person could go crazy trying to pass the time in a place with no time. When you
find The Book of Moons, L, I’ll know. I’ll be out of here the second I can. I keep my stuff ready to
go, by the mouth of the cave. Aunt Prue’s map. An empty flask of whiskey and a tobacco tin.
Don’t ask.
Can you believe, after everything, that the Book is still coming between us? I know you’re
going to find it. One day. You will.
And I’ll be waiting.
I’m not sure if thinking about Lena makes the time pass faster or slower. But it doesn’t matter. I
couldn’t stop thinking about her if I tried. Which I have—playing chess with these creepy figures
Xavier collects. Helping him catalog everything from bottle caps and marbles to ancient Caster
volumes. Today it’s stones. Xavier must have hundreds of them, ranging from raw diamonds as big
as strawberries to chunks of quartz and plain old rocks.
“It’s important to keep careful records of everything I have.” Xavier added three hunks of coal
to the list.
I stared at the rocks in front of me. Gravel, Amma would say. Just the right shade of gray for
Dean Wilks’ driveway. I wondered what Amma was doing right now. And my mom. The two
women who raised me were in two totally different worlds, and I couldn’t see either of them.
I held up a handful of dusty driveway gravel. “Why do you collect these, anyway? They’re just
rocks.”
Xavier looked shocked. “Stones have power. They absorb people’s feelings and their fears.
Even their memories.”
I didn’t need anyone else’s fears. I had enough of my own.
I reached into my pocket and took out the black stone. I rubbed the smooth surface between
my fingers. This one was Sulla’s. It was shaped like a thick teardrop, while Lena’s was rounder.
“Here.” I held it out to Xavier. “You can add it to your collection.”
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t need it to cross the river again. I would either find my way back
home or I would never leave here. Somehow I knew that, even if I didn’t know anything else.
Xavier stared at the stone for a long minute. “You keep it, dead man. Those aren’t—”
After that, I couldn’t make out what he was saying. My vision started to blur, Xavier’s leathery
black skin and the stone in my palm shifting until they started to bleed together into a single dark
shadow.
Sulla sat at an old wicker table, an oil lamp illuminating the small room. A spread was
laid out in front of her, the Cards of Providence lined up in two neat rows, each stamped
with a black sparrow in the corner—Sulla’s mark. A tall man sat across from her, his
smooth head gleaming in the light.
“The Bleeding Blade. Blind Man’s Rage. Liar’s Promise. The Stolen Heart.” She
frowned and shook her head. “Can tell you, none a this is good. What you’re chasin’,
you ain’t never gonna find. And it’ll be worse if you do.”
The man ran his huge hands over his scalp nervously. “What’s that supposed to
mean, Sulla? Stop talking in circles.”
“It means they’re never gonna give you what you want, Angelus. The Far Keep
doesn’t need a spread to know you’ve been breakin’ their rules all along.”
Angelus pushed away from the table violently. “I don’t need them to give me what I
want. I have other Keepers behind me. Keepers who want to be more than scribes. Why
should we be forced to record history when we can be the ones who make it!”
“Can’t change the cards—that’s all I know.”
Angelus stared at the beautiful woman with the golden skin and delicate braids.
“Words can change things, Seer. You just have to put them in the right book.”
Something caught Sulla’s eye, and she was distracted for a moment. Her
granddaughter crouched behind the door, listening. On any other night, Sulla wouldn’t
have minded. Amarie was seventeen, older than Sulla was when she learned to read
cards. Sulla didn’t want the girl to see this man. There was something evil inside him.
She didn’t need the cards to see that much.
Angelus started to stand, his huge hands clenched into fists.
Sulla tapped a card at the top of the spread, with a pair of golden gates inked
across the face. “This one here’s a wild card.”
The man hesitated. “What does it mean?”
“Means sometimes we make our own fate. Things the cards can’t see. Depends on
which side a the gate you choose.”
Angelus picked up the card, crumpling it in his hand. “I’ve stood outside the gates
long enough.”
The door slammed, and Amarie stepped out from her hiding place. “Who was that,
Grandmamma?”
The older woman picked up the crumpled card, smoothing it with her hands. “He’s
a Keeper from up north. A man who wants more than any man should have.”
“What does he want?”
Sulla’s eyes met Amarie’s, and for a second she was not sure if she would answer
the girl. “To tamper with fate. Change the cards.”
“But you can’t change the cards.”
Sulla looked away, remembering what she’d seen in the cards the day Amarie was
born. “Sometimes you can. But there’s always a price.”
When I opened my eyes, Xavier was standing above me, his features twisted in concern. “What did
you see, dead man?”
The black stone was warm in my hand. I squeezed it tighter, as if it could somehow bring me
closer to Amma. To the memories locked within its shiny black surface. “How many times has
Angelus changed The Caster Chronicles, Xavier?”
The Gatekeeper looked away, wringing his long fingers nervously.
“Xavier, answer me.”
Our eyes met, and I saw the pain in his. “Too many times.”
“Why is he doing it?” What did Angelus have to gain?
“Some men want to be more than Mortal. Angelus is one of those men.”
“Are you saying he wanted to be a Caster?”
Xavier nodded slowly. “He wanted to change fate. To find a way to defy supernatural law and
mix Mortal and Caster blood.”
Genetic engineering. “So he wanted Mortals to have powers like Casters?”
Xavier ran his abnormally long hand over his bald head. “There is no reason to have power if
you are left with no one to torment and control.”
It didn’t make sense. It was too late for Angelus. Was he, like Abraham Ravenwood, trying to
create some kind of hybrid child? “Was he experimenting on children?”
Xavier turned away, and for a long moment he was silent. “He experimented on himself using
Dark Casters.”
A chill ran up my spine, and I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t imagine what the Keeper must have
done to them. I was trying to find the right words to ask, but Xavier told me before I had a chance.
“Angelus tested their blood, tissue—I don’t know what else. And he injected a serum made
from their blood into his own. It didn’t give him the power he wanted. But he kept trying. Each
injection made him paler and more desperate.”
“That sounds horrible.”
He turned his deformed face back toward mine. “That was not the horrible part, dead man.
That would come later.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t stop myself. “What happened?”
“Eventually, he found a Caster whose blood gave him a mutated version of his own power. She
was Light and beautiful and kind. And I…” He hesitated.
“Did you love her?”
His features looked more human than ever before. “I did. And Angelus destroyed her.”
“I’m so sorry, Xavier.”
He nodded. “She was a powerful Telepath before she went mad from Angelus’ experiments.”
A mind reader. Suddenly I understood.
“Are you saying Angelus can read minds?”
“Only Mortal ones.”
Only Mortal ones. Like mine and Liv’s and Marian’s.
I needed to find my page in The Caster Chronicles and get back home.
“Don’t look so sad, dead man.”
I watched the hands on Xavier’s clocks turn in different directions, marking the passage of
time that didn’t exist here. I didn’t want to tell him that I wasn’t sad.
I was afraid.
I kept my eyes on those clocks, but I still couldn’t keep track of the time. Sometimes it got so bad
that I started to forget what I was waiting for in the first place. Too much time will do that to you.
Blur the edges between your memories and your imagination until everything feels like something
you saw in a movie instead of your life.
I was beginning to give up on ever seeing The Book of Moons again. Which meant giving up on
a whole lot more than some old Caster book.
It meant giving up on Gatlin, the good and the bad of it. Giving up on Amma and my dad and
Aunt Marian. Link and Liv and John. Jackson High and the Dar-ee Keen and Wate’s Landing and
Route 9. The place where I first realized Lena was the girl from my dreams.
Giving up on the Book meant giving up on her.
I couldn’t do that.
I wouldn’t.
After what had to be a few days or a few weeks—it was impossible to know—Xavier realized I
was losing more than time.
He was sitting on the dirt floor inside the cave, cataloging what looked like thousands of keys.
“What did she look like?”
“Who?” I asked.
“The girl.”
I watched him sort the keys by size, then shape. I wondered where they came from, whose
doors they opened, as I searched for the right words. “She was… alive.”
“Was she beautiful?”
Was she? It was getting harder to remember.
“Yeah. I think so.”
Xavier stopped sorting the keys, watching me. “What did she look like, the girl?”
How could I tell him everything was swirling in my mind, blending together in a way that made
it impossible to picture her clearly?
“Ethan? Did you hear me? You have to tell me. Otherwise you will forget. That’s what happens
if you spend too much time here. You’ll lose everything that made you who you were. This place
takes it from you.”
I turned away before I answered. “I’m not sure. It’s all a blur.”
“Was her hair gold?” Xavier loved gold.
“No,” I said. I was pretty sure, though I couldn’t remember why. I stared at the wall in front
of me, trying to picture her face. Then a single thought came to me, and I opened my eyes. “There
were curls. Lots and lots of curls.”
“The girl?”
“Yes.” I looked at the rocky outcroppings at the top of the cave. “Lena.”
“Her name is Lena?”
I nodded as tears began to stream down my face. I was so relieved I could still remember her
name. Hurry, Lena. I don’t have much time left.
By the time I saw the crow again, I had forgotten. My memories were like dreams, except I never
slept. I watched Xavier. I counted buttons and cataloged coins. I stared at the sky.
That’s what I was trying to do now, but the stupid bird kept shrieking and flapping its
enormous wings.
“Go away.”
He shrieked even louder.
I rolled onto my side and swatted at him. That’s when I saw the Book lying in the dirt in front
of me.
“Xavier,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Come here.”
“What is it, dead man?” I heard him call from the cave.
“The Book of Moons.” I picked it up, and it was warm in my hands. But my hands didn’t burn.
I remembered thinking they should.
As I held the Book, my memories came flooding back to me. Just as this book had brought me
back from the dead once before, so now was it bringing my life back to me again. I could picture
every detail. The places I’d been. The things I’d done. The people I loved.
I could see Lena’s delicate face. Her green and gold eyes and the crescent-shaped birthmark on
her cheek. I remembered lemons and rosemary and hurricane-force winds and spontaneous
combustion. Everything that made Lena the girl I loved.
I was whole again.
And I knew I had to leave this place before it claimed me forever.
I picked up the Book in both hands and carried it into the cave. It was time to make a trade.
With every step, the Book was heavy in my hands. It didn’t slow me down, though. Nothing could,
not now.
Not until there were no more steps to take.
The Gates of the Far Keep rose before me, straight and tall. Now I understood why Xavier was
so obsessed with gold. The Gates were a filthy blackish brown, but underneath I could see the gold
fighting through. They rose in forbidding spires. They didn’t seem to lead anywhere a person would
want to go.
“They look so evil.”
Xavier followed my eyes to the tips of the spires. “They are what they are. Power is neither
good nor evil.”
“Maybe that’s true, but this place is evil.”
“Ethan. You are a strong Mortal. You have more life in you than any dead man I’ve met.”
Somehow, that wasn’t a comfort. “I cannot open the Gates if you do not truly wish to go.” The
words sounded ominous.
“I have to go. I have to get back to Lena, and Amma, and Link. And my dad, and Marian, and
Liv, and everybody.” I saw their faces, every one of them. I felt surrounded by them, by their
spirits, and by mine. I remembered what it was to live among them, my friends.
I remembered what it was to live.
“Lena. The girl with the golden curls?” Xavier sounded curious.
There was no point trying to explain, not to him. I just nodded—it seemed easier.
“And you love her?” He looked even more curious about that.
“Yes.” There was no doubt. “I love her beyond the universe and back. I love her from this
world to the next.”
He blinked, expressionless. “Well. That’s very serious.”
I almost felt like smiling. “Yeah. I tried to tell you. It’s like that.”
He stared at me for a long moment, finally nodding. “All right. Follow me.” Then he
disappeared up the dusty pathway in front of me.
I followed him as the path twisted into an impossibly rocky staircase. We climbed until we
reached a narrow cliff that dropped away into what seemed like oblivion. When I tried to look over
the edge of the rock, all I could see were clouds and darkness.
In front of me were the imposing black Gates. I couldn’t see anything beyond them. But I
could hear terrible sounds—chains rattling, voices wailing and crying.
“It sounds like Hell.”
He shook his head. “Not Hell. Only the Far Keep.”
Xavier moved in front of me, blocking my path to the Gates. “Are you sure you want to do
this, dead man?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on his disfigured face.
“Human boy. The one called Ethan. My friend.” His eyes went pale and glassy, as if he was
going into some kind of trance.
“What is it, Xavier?” I was impatient, but more than that I was terrified. And the longer we
stood outside listening to the terrible sounds of whatever was going on inside, the worse it seemed
to get. I was afraid of losing my nerve—of giving up and turning back—of wasting everything Lena
had gone through to get The Book of Moons to me.
He ignored me. “You propose a trade, dead man? What do you offer me if I open the Gates?
How do you propose to pay your way for entrance into the Far Keep?”
I just stood there.
He opened one eye, hissing at me. “The Book. Give me the Book.”
I gave it to him, but I couldn’t move my hands away. It was like the Book and I were one
thing, yet somehow connected to Xavier as well.
“What the—”
“I accept this offering, and in return I open the Gates of the Far Keep.” Xavier’s body went
limp, and he collapsed in a heap around the Book.
“Are you okay, Xavier?”
“Shh.” The sound coming from the heap of robes was the only thing that told me he was still
alive.
I heard another sound, like rocks falling or cars crashing, but really it was just the enormous
Gates opening. It seemed like they hadn’t been opened in a thousand years. I watched the black
walls give way to the world inside.
As a rush of relief and exhaustion and adrenaline made my heart race, one thought kept running
through my mind.
It has to be over soon.
This had to be the hardest part. I paid the Ferryman. I crossed the river. I got the Book. I made
the trade.
I made it to the Far Keep. I’m almost home. I’m coming, L.
I could picture her face. Imagined seeing her and holding her in my arms again.
It wouldn’t be long.
At least that’s what I thought as I walked through the Gates.

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 26

From just inside the hidden grating that led into the Lunae Libri, I could see all the way down to
the bottom of the stairs. Marian sat behind the circular reception desk, exactly where I knew she
would be. Liv was pacing at the far end of the room, where the stacks began.
As we came down into the Lunae Libri, Liv’s neck snapped up. She bolted across the room
the moment she saw John.
But he was faster. John ripped, materializing in Liv’s path and gathering her up in his arms. My
heart broke a little as I watched the relief spread across her face. I tried not to feel envious.
“You’re all right!” Liv threw her arms around John’s neck. She pulled back, her expression
changing. “What were you thinking? How many times are you going to sneak off to do something
completely insane?” Liv turned her scowl on Link and me. “And how many times are you going to
let him?”
Link raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, we weren’t even there the last time.”
John leaned his forehead against hers. “He’s right. I’m the one you should be angry with.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t know what I would have done—”
“I’m okay.”
Link puffed his chest out. “Thanks to me.”
“It’s true,” John said. “My protégée saved our asses.”
Link raised an eyebrow. “That better mean somethin’ good.”
Uncle Macon cleared his throat and adjusted a cuff of his crisp white shirt. “It does indeed, Mr.
Lincoln. It does indeed.”
Arms crossed, Marian stepped out from behind the desk. “Would someone like to tell me
exactly what happened tonight?” She stared at my uncle expectantly. “Liv and I have been worried
sick.” He glared at me. “As you can imagine, their little showdown with my brother and Abraham did
not go according to plan. And Mr. Breed almost met an untimely end.”
“But Uncle M saved the day.” Ridley didn’t even try to hide her sarcasm. “He gave Hunting a
sunburn where the sun don’t shine. Now let’s get on with the part where you give us a big lecture
and we all get grounded.”
Marian turned to my uncle. “Is she implying—?”
Uncle Macon nodded. “Hunting is no longer with us.”
“Abraham’s dead, too,” John added.
Marian stared at Uncle Macon as if he had just parted the Red Sea. “You killed Abraham
Ravenwood?”
Link cleared his throat loudly, grinning. “No, ma’am. I did.”
For a moment Marian was speechless. “I think I need to sit down,” she said, her knees
beginning to buckle. John rushed behind the desk to get her a chair.
Marian pressed her fingers against her temples. “You’re telling me that Hunting and Abraham
are dead?”
“That would be correct,” Uncle Macon said.
Marian shook her head. “Anything else?”
“Just this, Aunt Marian.” Ethan’s nickname for her just slipped out before I realized it. I
dropped The Book of Moons on the polished wood tabletop next to her.
Liv inhaled sharply. “Oh my God.”
I stared down at the worn black leather, embossed with a crescent moon, and the weight of the
moment closed in on me. My hands shook, and my legs felt like they were about to give out, too.
“I can’t believe it.” Marian inspected the book suspiciously, as if I were returning a late library
book into her system. She would never be anything less than 100 percent librarian.
“It’s the real deal.” Ridley leaned against one of the marble columns.
Marian stood up in front of her desk as if trying to position herself between Ridley and the
most dangerous book in the Mortal and Caster worlds. “Ridley, I don’t think you belong in here.”
Ridley pushed her sunglasses up on her head, yellow cat eyes blinking back at Marian. “I
know, I know. I’m a Dark Caster, and I don’t belong in the good guys’ secret clubhouse, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “I am so over this.”
“The Lunae Libri is open to all Casters, Light and Dark,” Marian answered. “What I meant is
that I’m not sure you belong with us.”
“It’s okay, Marian. Rid helped us get the Book,” I explained.
Ridley blew a bubble and waited for it to pop, the sound echoing loudly off the walls. “Helped
you? If by help, you mean set Abraham up for you so you could get The Book of Moons and kill
him, then, yeah, I guess I helped.”
Marian stared at her, speechless. Without a word, she walked over and held up a trash can in
front of Ridley’s mouth. “Not in my library. Spit it out now.”
Ridley sighed. “You know it’s not just gum, right?”
Marian didn’t move.
Ridley spit.
Marian dropped the can. “What I don’t understand is why you would risk your lives for that
dreadful book. I appreciate the fact it is no longer in the hands of Blood Incubuses, but—”
“Ethan needs it,” I blurted out. “He found a way to contact me, and he needs The Book of
Moons. He’s trying to get back here.”
“Have you gotten another message?” Marian asked.
I nodded. “In the latest Stars and Stripes.” I took a deep breath. “I need you to trust me.” I
looked into her eyes. “And I need your help.”
Marian studied me for a long moment. I don’t know what she was thinking, or debating, or
even deciding. All I know is, she didn’t say a word.
I don’t think she could.
Then she nodded, pulling her chair a bit closer to me. “Tell me everything.”
So I started talking. We took turns filling in the blanks—Link and John all but acting out our
encounter with Abraham, and Rid and Uncle Macon helping me explain our plan to trade John for
The Book of Moons. Liv looked on unhappily, as if she could hardly bear to hear it.
Marian didn’t say a word until we finished, though it was easy to read her expressions, which
ranged from shock and horror to sympathy and despair.
“Is that everything?” She looked at me, exhausted by our story.
“It gets worse.” I looked at Ridley.
“You mean aside from the fact that Link dissected Abraham with the giant scissors?” Rid made
a face.
“No, Rid. Tell her about Abraham’s plans. Tell her what you heard about Angelus,” I said.
Uncle Macon’s head snapped up at the sound of the Keeper’s name. “What is Lena talking
about, Ridley?”
“Angelus and Abraham were up to something, but I don’t know the details.” She shrugged.
“Tell us exactly what you know.”
Ridley twisted a lock of pink hair around her finger nervously. “This Angelus guy is a nutcase.
He hates Mortals, and he thinks the Dark Casters and the Far Keep should be in control of the
Mortal world, or something like that.”
“Why?” Marian was thinking out loud. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles
were white. Marian’s own trouble with the Far Keep was all too fresh in her memory.
Rid shrugged. “Ah, maybe because he’s Special K-razy?”
Marian looked over at my uncle, a silent conversation passing between them. “We can’t let
Angelus gain a foothold here. He’s far too dangerous.”
Uncle M nodded. “I agree. We need—”
I cut him off before he could finish. “All I know is first we need to get The Book of Moons to
Ethan. There’s still a chance we can get him back.”
“Do you really think so?” Marian said the words quietly, almost under her breath. Though I
couldn’t be certain, it seemed like only I could hear them. Still, I knew Marian believed in the
impossibilities of the Caster world—she’d seen them firsthand—and she loved Ethan as much as I
did. He was like a son to her.
We both wanted to believe.
I nodded. “I do. I have to.”
She rose from her chair and came back around the desk, poised as ever.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll get Ethan The Book of Moons, one way or another.” I smiled at her,
but she was already lost in thought, looking around the library as if it held the answers to all our
problems.
Which, sometimes, it did.
“There has to be a way, right?” John asked. “Maybe in one of these scrolls or one of these old
books—”
Ridley unscrewed the top of her nail polish bottle, wrinkling her nose. “Goody. Old books.”
“Try to have a bit more respect, Ridley. A book is the reason the children in the Duchannes
family suffered for generations.” Marian was referring to our curse.
Rid crossed her arms, pouting. “Whatever.”
Marian swiped the bottle out of her hand. “Another thing I don’t allow in my library.” It
clattered to the bottom of the trash can.
Ridley glared, but she didn’t say a word.
“Dr. Ashcroft, have you ever delivered a book to the Otherworld?” Liv asked.
Marian shook her head. “I can’t say that I have.”
“Maybe Carlton Eaton could just run it on over.” Link looked hopeful. “You could wrap it up in
one a those brown paper packages, like you do for my mom’s books. And, you know, circulate it
or somethin’.”
Marian sighed. “I’m afraid not, Wesley.” Even Carlton Eaton, who had his nose in every letter
in town in both the Mortal and Caster worlds, couldn’t make a delivery like that.
Frustrated, Liv flipped through her little red notebook. “There has to be a way. What were the
odds you could get the Book from Abraham at all? And now that we have it, we’re just going to
give up?” She pulled the pencil from behind her ear, scribbling and mumbling to herself. “The laws
of quantum physics must allow for this sort of eventuality….”
I didn’t know anything about the laws of quantum physics, but I knew one thing. “The stone
from my charm necklace disappeared when I left it for Ethan. Why would the Book be any
different?”
I know you took it, Ethan. Why couldn’t you take the Book, too?
I realized Uncle Macon could probably hear me, and I tried to stop.
It was no use. I couldn’t stop Kelting any more than I could stop the words that strung
themselves together, waiting for me to write them down somewhere.
laws of physics
laws of love
of time and space
and the (in)between place
(in)between you and me
and where we are
lost and looking
looking and lost
“Maybe the Book’s too heavy,” Link offered. “That little black rock wasn’t any bigger than a
quarter.”
“I’m not sure that’s the reason, Wesley. Though anything is possible,” Marian said.
“Or impossible.” Ridley pushed her sunglasses back into place and stuck out her red tongue.
“So why can’t it make the jump?” John asked.
Marian glanced at Liv’s notes, considering the question. “The Book of Moons is a powerful
supernatural object. No one really understands the scope of its power. Not the Keepers or the
Casters.”
“And if the origin of its magic is in the Caster world, it could be deeply rooted here,” Liv said.
“The way a tree is rooted to a particular spot.”
“Are you saying the Book doesn’t want to cross over?” John asked.
Liv tucked the pencil behind her ear. “I’m saying maybe it can’t.”
“Or shouldn’t.” Uncle Macon’s tone grew more serious.
Ridley slid to the floor and stretched out her long legs. “This is so messed up. I risked my life,
and now we’re stuck with that thing. Maybe we need to hit the Tunnels and see if any of the other
bad guys know the answer. You know—Team Dark.”
Liv crossed her arms over her EDISON DIDN’T INVENT THE LIGHTBULB T-shirt. “You want to
take The Book of Moons to a Dark Caster bar?”
“You have a better idea?” Rid asked.
“I think I do.” Marian slipped her red wool jacket on.
Liv scrambled after her. “Where are you going?”
“To see someone who knows a great deal about not just that book but a world that defies the
physics of both the Caster and Mortal worlds. Someone who just may have the answers we need.”
My uncle nodded. “An excellent idea.”
There was only one person who fit that description.
Someone who loved Ethan as much as I did. Someone who would do anything for him, even
rip a hole in the universe.

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 27

Now, don’t you tell me you’re thinkin’ a settin’ foot on my front walkway, you hear?” Amma
refused to let Ridley anywhere near Wate’s Landing. She said so in about fifteen different ways in
the first conversation we unsuccessfully tried to have with her.
“Mmmm-nnnnnnn. No Dark Casters are comin’ into this house while I’m here on this sweet
earth. Or after I leave it. No, sir. No, ma’am. No how.”
She agreed to meet us at Greenbrier instead.
Uncle Macon hung back. “It’s better this way. Amarie and I haven’t seen each other since the
night… it happened,” he explained. “I’m not sure this is the right moment.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re scared of her, too?” Ridley eyed him with new interest.
“Imagine that.”
“I’ll be at Ravenwood if you need me,” he said, giving Ridley a withering stare.
“Imagine that.” I smiled.
The rest of us waited inside the crumbling wall of the old graveyard. I resisted the urge to
wander over to Ethan’s plot, though I felt the familiar pull, the longing to be with him there. I
believed, with all my heart, that there was a way to get Ethan back, and I wasn’t going to stop
trying until I found it.
Amma was hopeful, too, but I had seen the fear and doubt in her eyes. She had already lost him
twice. Every time I took her another crossword puzzle, she was desperate to get him back.
I think Amma wasn’t about to let herself believe in anything she could stand to lose again.
With the Book, though, we were one step closer.
Ridley was leaning against a tree, a safe distance from the hole in the stone wall. I knew she
was just as afraid of Amma as Uncle Macon was, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“Don’t say anything to her when she gets here,” Link warned Ridley. “You know how she gets
about that book.”
Ridley rolled her eyes. “I thought Abraham was a pain. Amma’s even worse.”
I saw a black orthopedic lace-up step through the opening.
“Worse than what?” Amma demanded. “Worse than your manners?” She looked Ridley up and
down. “Or your taste in clothes?”
She was wearing a yellow dress, all sunlight and sweetness, which didn’t match her
expression. Her grayish-black hair was twisted into a neat bun, and she was carrying a patterned
quilting bag. I’d been around long enough to know there weren’t any quilting supplies inside.
“Or a stitch worse than the girl who gets pulled outta Hell only to walk back into the fire on her
own?” Amma watched Ridley carefully.
Ridley didn’t take off her sunglasses, but I could see the shame anyway. I knew her too well.
There was something about Amma that made you feel completely awful if you disappointed her—
even if you were a Siren with no ties to her.
“That’s not what happened,” Ridley said quietly.
Amma dropped her bag on the ground. “Isn’t it, then? I have it on good authority that you had
a chance to be on the right side a wrong for once, and you gave it up. Did I miss somethin’ in the
fine print?”
Ridley shifted nervously. “It’s not that simple.”
Amma sniffed. “You go on tellin’ yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, but don’t try to sell
it to me, because I’m not buyin’ it.” Amma pointed to the lollipop in Ridley’s hand. “And all that
sugar will rot those teeth right outta your head, Caster or no Caster.”
Link laughed nervously.
Amma focused her eagle eye on him. “What’re you laughin’ about, Wesley Lincoln? You’re
knee deep in more trouble than the day I caught you in my basement when you were nine years
old.”
Link’s face reddened. “It sorta finds me, ma’am.”
“You know you go lookin’ for it, sure as the sun shines the same on the saints as it does on the
sinners.” She glanced at each of us. “So what is it this time? And it better not have anythin’ to do
with destroyin’ the balance a the universe.”
“All saints, ma’am. No sinners.” Link backed away an inch or two, looking at me for help.
“Spit it out. I’ve got Aunt Mercy and Aunt Grace at the house, and I can’t leave them alone
with Thelma for too long, or the three a them will order everything that comes on the shoppin’
channel.” Amma rarely called Ethan’s great-aunts “the Sisters” anymore, now that one of them was
gone. But now it was Marian who walked over and took Amma’s arm reassuringly. “It’s about The
Book of Moons.”
“We have it,” I blurted out.
Liv stepped aside, revealing The Book of Moons lying on the ground behind her. Amma’s eyes
widened. “Do I wanna know how you got it?”
Link jumped in. “Nope. I mean no, ma’am, you sure don’t.”
“The fact remains we have it now,” Marian said.
“But we can’t get it to Ethan—” I heard the desperation in my voice.
Amma shook her head and approached the Book, circling it like she didn’t want to get too
close. “ ’Course you can’t. This book is too powerful for one world. If you want to send it from
the world a the livin’ to the world a the dead, we’ll need the power a both worlds to send it.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I only cared about one thing. “Will you help us?”
“Not my help you need. You need help on the receivin’ end.”
Liv inched closer to Amma. “We left the Book for Ethan, but he didn’t take it.”
She sniffed. “Hmm. Ethan’s not strong enough to carry that kinda weight across. He probably
doesn’t even know how.”
“But there is someone strong enough,” Marian coaxed. “Perhaps more than one someone.” She
was talking about the Greats.
The question was, would Amma call them?
I bit my lip.
Please say yes.
“Figured if you were callin’, you were lookin’ to test out just how far crazy will go.” Amma
opened the quilting bag and took out a shot glass and a bottle of Wild Turkey. “So I came
prepared.” She poured a shot and pointed to me. “You’re gonna have to help, though. We need the
power a both worlds, don’t forget.”
I nodded. “I’ll do whatever I need to.”
Amma nodded in the direction of Ravenwood. “You can start by gatherin’ up the rest a your
kin. You don’t have the kinda power we need on your own.”
“Rid is here, and John can help, too. He’s half Caster.”
Amma shook her head. “If you want that book to cross, you’re gonna have to go get the rest a
them.”
“They’re in Barbados.”
“Actually, they returned a few hours ago,” Marian said. “Reece stopped by the library earlier
tonight. She said your grandmother wasn’t fond of the humidity.”
I tried not to smile. What my grandmother wasn’t fond of was missing all the action, and
Reece wasn’t much better. With every Caster power in my extended family, I was certain they
knew something was going on.
“I could ask them. But they might be tired from all the travel.” I was worried enough that Uncle
M was going to change his mind about all this. Adding the rest of my family into the mix fell
somewhere between risky and idiotic.
Amma crossed her arms, as determined as I’d ever seen her. “What I know is that this book
isn’t going anywhere without them.”
There was no use arguing with her. I had watched Ethan try to talk her down when her mind
was made up, and he rarely succeeded. And Amma loved him more than anyone in the world. I
didn’t stand a chance.
Ridley nodded at me. “I’ll go with you for backup.”
“Your mom will freak if you just show up. I’m going to have to tell her you’re back. And I
should probably tell them that you’ve—” I hesitated. It wasn’t going to be easy for anyone in my
family to deal with the fact that Ridley ran back to Sarafine for her Dark Caster powers. “Changed.”
Link looked away.
That wasn’t the worst of it. “It’s going to be hard enough to explain to Gramma why I have
the Book.”
Rid slung her arm over my shoulder. “Don’t you know that the best way to distract someone
from bad news is to give them some worse news?” She smiled, leading me toward Ravenwood.
“News doesn’t get much worse than me.”
Link shook his head. “No kidding.”
Ridley spun around and pushed her sunglasses up. “Zip it, Shrinky Dink. Or I’ll make you want
to rip into your mother’s room and tell her you’re becoming a Methodist.”
“Your powers don’t work on me anymore, Babe.”
Ridley blew him a sticky pink kiss. “Try me.”

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 28

I opened the front door, and the air inside the house seemed to move. No—it was moving.
Hundreds of butterflies fluttered through the air while others rested on the delicate antique furniture
Uncle Macon had spent years collecting.
Butterflies.
What was I doing to Ravenwood?
A tiny green butterfly with streaks of gold across its wings landed on the bottom of the
banister.
“Macon?” Gramma’s voice called from the second floor. “Is that you?”
“No, Gramma. It’s me. Lena.”
She swept down the stairs in a high-neck white blouse, her hair gathered neatly in a bun and
her lace-up boots peeking out from under her long skirt. Against the perfectly restored flying
staircase, she looked like a Southern belle right out of an old movie.
She glanced at the butterflies flitting around the room and gave me a hug. “I’m so glad to see
you’re in a good mood.”
Gramma knew Ravenwood’s interior constantly changed to mirror my moods. To her, a room
full of butterflies meant happiness. But for me, it meant something entirely different—something I
had been clinging to tightly.
Hope, borne on green and gold wings. Dark and Light, like I had become the night of my
Claiming.
I touched the wire Christmas tree star on my charm necklace. I had to focus. Everything had
come down to this. Ethan was out there somewhere, and there was a chance we could bring him
home. I just had to convince my family to lend their powers to us.
“Gramma, I need your help with something.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew what I was about to tell her. “What if I told you I
found The Book of Moons?”
Gramma froze. “Why would you ask me something like that, Lena? Do you know where it is?”
I nodded.
She gathered her skirt, rushing toward the stairs. “We have to tell Macon. The sooner we get
that book back to the Lunae Libri, the better.”
“We can’t.”
Gramma turned around slowly, her eyes looking right through me. “Start explaining, young
lady. And you can start by telling me how you found The Book of Moons.”
Ridley stepped out from behind a marble column. “I helped her.”
For one long moment, I held my breath, until it became clear Ravenwood wasn’t about to fall
to the ground.
“How did you get in here?” Gramma’s voice was as controlled as Ridley’s, maybe more. She’d
been around a long time, and it would take more than my Dark-again cousin to throw her.
“Lena let me in.”
There was a flicker of disappointment in my grandmother’s eyes. “I see you’re wearing your
sunglasses again.”
“It was kind of a self-preservation thing.” Ridley bit her lip nervously. “The world’s a
dangerous place.”
It was something my grandmother said to us all the time when we were kids—particularly to
Ridley. I remembered something else she said, something that might delay the confession of the
Abraham story long enough for me to get the Book to Ethan.
“Gramma, do you remember the deal you made with Ridley the first time she went to a party?”
She looked at me blankly. “I’m not sure I do.”
“You told her not to get in a car with anyone who had been drinking.”
“Certainly good advice, but I’m not sure how it relates to this situation.”
“You told Rid that if she called and said her ride was drinking, you would send someone to pick
her up, no questions asked.” I saw a hint of recognition pass across her face. “You said she
wouldn’t get in trouble, no matter where she was or what she did.”
Ridley leaned against the column awkwardly. “Yeah. It was like a Get Out of Jail Free card. I
definitely needed one of those recently.”
“Is this conversation going to explain why you two are in possession of the most dangerous
book in the Caster or Mortal world?” Gramma looked skeptically from my cousin to me.
“I’m calling to tell you my ride has been drinking,” I blurted out.
“Pardon me?”
“I need you to trust me and do something without asking any questions. Something for Ethan.”
“Lena, Ethan is—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t say it. We both know people can communicate from the other side.
Ethan sent me a message. And I need your help.”
“She’s telling the truth. At least she thinks she is, for what it’s worth.” Reece was standing in
the darkened doorway to the dining room. I hadn’t even seen her, but she had obviously seen me. It
only took a Sybil one look at your face to read it, and Reece was among the best. Finally, it was
working to my advantage.
“Even if you are telling the truth, you are asking for more than just a little faith. And no matter
how much I love you, I can’t help you use—”
“We aren’t trying to use The Book of Moons.” I wondered if she would believe me. “We’re
trying to send it to Ethan.”
The room was silent, and I waited for her to say something. “What would lead you to believe
that’s possible?”
I explained the messages Ethan had been leaving in the crosswords, but I left out the part about
how we actually got our hands on The Book of Moons, invoking the “my ride is drunk” clause. I
wouldn’t get away with it forever. Eventually, Gramma would insist on an explanation. But I didn’t
need forever—just tonight. After we sent the Book to Ethan, Gramma could interrogate me all she
wanted.
Besides, Uncle M already had first dibs on the grounding.
She listened carefully, sipping from a black porcelain teacup that appeared in her hand,
compliments of Kitchen. She didn’t offer a single word, and she didn’t look away from me as I
spoke.
Finally, the cup found its way back into the saucer, and I knew she had made a decision. My
grandmother drew a deep breath. “If Ethan needs our assistance, we have no choice but to give it to
him. After what he sacrificed for us all, it’s the least we can do.”
“Gramma!” Reece threw up her hands. “Listen to yourself!”
“How can she, when you’re yelling?” Ridley snapped.
Reece ignored her. “You’re really going to send the most powerful book in the Caster universe
into the Otherworld, with no way of knowing who’ll be on the other end?”
Rid shrugged. “At least you won’t be there.”
Reece looked like she wanted to stab Ridley with garden shears of her own.
“Ethan will be there,” I argued.
Gramma hesitated, a new thought shaking her resolve. “It’s not as if we are shipping a
package, Lena. What if the Book doesn’t end up where we intend?”
Reece looked satisfied. Ridley looked like now she was the one thinking about garden shears.
“Amma’s going to call the Greats.”
Gramma finished her tea, and the cup vanished. “Well, if Amarie is involved, I’m sure she has a
plan. I’ll get my coat.”
“Wait.” I looked over at Reece. “We need everyone to come. Amma says we won’t have
enough power unless we do this together.”
Reece looked at Uncle Macon, who had sidled into the room at the first sign of the Caster
family fighting. “Are you going to let her do this?”
He chose his words carefully. “On the one hand, I think this is a very bad idea.”
“There.” Reece smiled.
“What?” Losing my uncle’s support was the one thing I had been afraid of when Amma sent
me for reinforcements.
“Let him finish, girls.” Gramma raised her voice.
“But,” Uncle M continued, “we owe Ethan a debt we will never be able to properly repay. I
watched him give his life for us, and I don’t take that lightly.”
I exhaled. Thank goodness.
“Uncle Macon—” Reece started.
He silenced her with a gesture. “This isn’t up for discussion. If it weren’t for Ethan, you could
be powerless right now—or worse. The Order was broken, and we were only beginning to see the
effects. Things were headed in a very grave direction indeed. I promise you that.”
“I don’t know why we’re still talking about it, then.” Gramma gathered her skirt and ascended
the stairs. “I’ll get Del, Barclay, and Ryan.”
Ridley swallowed hard at the sound of her mother’s name. Aunt Del was always heartsick
when Ridley disappeared, and she had no idea her daughter was back. Or that she had returned as a
Dark Caster.
I remembered how happy Aunt Del looked when Ridley lost her powers last summer. Being a
Mortal was better than being Dark, especially in this family.
Reece turned to face her sister. “You shouldn’t be here. Haven’t you put everyone through
enough pain?”
Ridley stiffened. “I thought you deserved a little more, Sis. Wouldn’t want to leave you
hanging. I mean, seeing how you’ve always been there for me.” She said it sarcastically, but I could
hear the pain. Ridley only pretended she didn’t have a heart.
I heard voices, and Aunt Del appeared at the top of the staircase. Uncle Barclay’s arm was
wrapped tightly around her. I wasn’t sure if she’d overheard us or if Gramma told her about Ridley.
But I could tell by the way Aunt Del was wringing her hands that she already knew the truth.
Uncle Barclay led her down the stairs, his tall frame looming over her. His salt-and-pepper hair
was combed neatly, and for once he looked like he belonged in the same era as the rest of us. Ryan
trailed behind them, her long blond hair swinging in a ponytail.
When Ryan and Ridley were standing in the same room, it was impossible to ignore how much
they resembled each other. In the last six months, Ryan had come to look more like a teenager than
a little girl, even though she was only twelve.
Aunt Del smiled at Rid weakly. “I’m glad you’re all right. I was so worried.”
Ridley bit her lip and teetered on her stacked heels. “I’m sorry, you know. I couldn’t exactly
call.”
“Abraham had Rid locked up.” I blurted it out before I could stop myself. Ridley was guilty of
lots of things, but it was hard to watch them judge her for something that was out of her control.
Aunt Del’s face crumpled—everyone’s did, except for Reece’s. She positioned herself
protectively between her mother and her Dark sister.
“Is that true?” Uncle Barclay sounded genuinely concerned.
Ridley twisted a pink strand between her fingers nervously. “Yeah. He was a real prince.” She
Kelted to me desperately. Don’t tell them, Cuz. Not now. “I’m fine,” Ridley went on, waving off her
father’s concern. “Let’s worry about Ethan. No one wants to hear about me and the Big Bad Wolf.”
Ryan stepped closer to Ridley tentatively. “I do,” she said quietly.
Rid didn’t respond. Instead, she held out her empty hand.
I waited for a mouse or a lollipop to appear in her palm, some cheap trick to distract her sister
from what she was now. But her hand stayed empty.
Ryan smiled and reached out her own hand, closing it around Ridley’s.
I heard Aunt Del’s breath catch, or maybe it was mine.
“If Lena trusts you, so do I,” Ryan said. She looked at Reece. “Sisters should trust each
other.”
Reece didn’t move, but I didn’t need to be a Sybil to read her face.
Tiny cracks were already forming in the tough exterior Reece worked so hard to maintain.
They were hard to see, but they were there. The beginning of something—tears, forgiveness, regret
—I couldn’t be sure.
It reminded me of something Marian told Ethan before everything happened. It was one of her
famous quotes, by a guy named Leonard Cohen: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the
light gets in.”
That’s what I thought of when I saw Reece’s face.
The light was finally getting in.
“Lena, are you all right?” Uncle Barclay glanced at the ceiling. The crystal chandelier was
swinging dangerously above us.
I took a deep breath, and it stopped immediately. Get control of yourself.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I composed the words in my head, even if I wouldn’t let my pen write them.
bent
like the branches of a tree
broken
like the pieces of my heart
cracked
like the seventeenth moon
shattered
like the glass in the window
the day we met
I closed my eyes, trying to silence the words that wouldn’t stop coming.
No.
I ignored them, forcing them out of my mind. I wasn’t Kelting them to Uncle Macon, and I
wasn’t writing a word until Ethan came back.
Not a single word.
“Amarie is expecting us. We should go.” Uncle Macon slipped on his black cashmere coat.
“She is not a woman who appreciates being kept waiting.”
Boo lumbered behind him, his thick fur blending seamlessly into the darkness of the room.
Ridley opened the door, fleeing as fast as she could. She unwrapped a red lollipop before she
even made it down the steps of the veranda. She hesitated for a second near the flower bed before
pocketing the wrapper.
Maybe people could change—even the ones who made the wrong choices, if they tried hard
enough to make them right. I wasn’t sure, but I hoped so. I had made enough bad choices myself
in the last year.
I walked toward the only one that had been right.
The only one that mattered.
Ethan.
I’m coming.

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 24

Ridley was waiting for us behind the farthest row of crypts, which, judging by the number of
abandoned beer bottles in the bushes, was also a Gatlin County hot spot.
I couldn’t imagine hanging out here willingly. His Garden of Perpetual Peace still had
Abraham’s fingerprints all over it. Nothing seemed to have changed since he had called up the
Vexes only weeks before the Eighteenth Moon. Warning signs and yellow caution tape created a
labyrinth between the broken mausoleums, uprooted trees, and cracked gravestones in the new
section of the cemetery. Now that the Order of Things was repaired, the grass wasn’t burning up
anymore, and the lubbers were gone. But the other scars were still there if you knew where to look
for them.
True to Gatlin form, the worst of the damage had already been hidden under the layers of fresh
dirt Ridley was standing on now. The caskets had been reburied and the tombs sealed. I wasn’t
surprised. It wasn’t like the good citizens of Gatlin to keep the skeletons out of the closet for long.
Rid unwrapped a cherry lollipop and waved it around dramatically. “I sold it to him. Hook, line,
and stinker.” She smiled at Link. “That’s you, Shrinky Dink.”
“You know what they say. Takes one to know one,” Link shot back.
“You know I smell like frosting on a cupcake. Why don’t you come on over here, and I’ll
show you just how sweet I can be?” She wriggled her long pink nails like claws.
Link walked over to John, who was leaning against a weeping angel that was split right down
the middle. “Just callin’ it like I see it, Babe. And I can smell you just fine from here.”
Link was throwing Ridley more than just quarter-Incubus swagger today. Now that he’d
wrapped his head around the fact that she was back, it was like he lived to trade insults with her.
Ridley turned back to me, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten a bigger rise out of him. “All it took
was a little trip back to N’awlins, and I had Abraham eating out of my hand.”
That was hard to imagine, and John definitely wasn’t buying it. “You expect us to believe you
Charmed Abraham with a few Ridley pops? You and what chain of candy stores?”
Ridley pouted. “Of course not. I had to sell it. So I thought, who would be stupid enough to do
whatever I say and play right into my hands?” She blew Link a kiss. “Our little Dinkubus, of
course.”
Link’s jaw tightened. “She’s full of crap.”
“All I had to do was tell Abraham that I used Link and his feelings for me to infiltrate your
stupid little circle and figure out your even stupider little plan. Then I complained about him keeping
me caged like his prize pet. Of course, I said I couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want me around
full-time?”
“Is that a question? Because I’d be happy to answer,” Link snapped.
“He wasn’t mad that you broke out of your fancy birdcage?” John asked.
Ridley’s voice edged up a little. “Abraham knew I wouldn’t stay in there if I could find a way
out. I’m a Siren; it’s not in my nature to be confined. I told him I used my Power of Persuasion on
his pathetic Incubus errand boy and convinced him to let me out. It didn’t end well. Abraham just
got a bigger cage for him.”
“What else did you say?” I wanted to know if there was really a chance we were getting the
Book. I twisted my charm necklace around my finger, trying not to think about the memories
slipping around it.
“I broke it down for him and said I’d rather bet on him than you guys.” She gave Link a sweet
smile. “You know how I like a winning team. Naturally, Abraham believed every word. Why
wouldn’t he? It’s so utterly believable.”
Link looked like he wanted to throw her across the graveyard.
“And Abraham will be there? Today?” John still didn’t trust her.
“He’ll be there. In the flesh. Of course, I’m using the term loosely.” She shuddered. “Very
loosely.”
“He agreed to trade me for The Book of Moons?” John asked.
Ridley sighed, leaning against the crypt wall. “Well, technically, I believe it went something like,
‘They’re stupid enough to believe you’ll trade John for the Book, but of course you won’t.’ And
then there might have been some laughing. And some drunken Casting. It’s all a haze.”
Link folded his arms across his chest. “The thing is, Rid, how do we know you’re not saying
the same thing to him? You’re Dark as they come. How can we know”—he stepped protectively in
front of me—“whose side you’re really on?”
“She’s my cousin, Link.” Even as I said it, I wasn’t really sure of the answer. Ridley was a
Dark Caster again. The last time she offered to help me, it was a trap, and she led me right to my
mother and my Seventeenth Moon.
But I knew she loved me. As much as a Dark Caster could love anyone. And as much as Rid
could love anyone other than herself.
Ridley leaned closer to Link. “Good question, Shrinky Dink. Too bad I have no intention of
answering it.”
“One of these days, I guess I’ll figure out that one for myself.” Link frowned, and I smiled.
“Let me give you a little clue,” Rid purred. “Today’s not the day.”
Then in a swirl of cotton candy body glitter, the Siren he loved to hate was gone.
It was just starting to get dark when we left Liv and Uncle Macon in the study, poring over every
Caster book they could find about Sheers and Ravenwood history, respectively. Liv was convinced
that Ethan was trying to contact us, and she was determined to find a way to communicate with
him. Every time I went down there, she was taking notes or adjusting the crazy gadget she used to
measure supernatural frequencies. I think she was desperate to find a solution that didn’t involve
trading John for The Book of Moons.
I didn’t blame her.
Uncle Macon was, too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He was scouring every journal and scrap
of paper he could find for references to other places where Abraham could have hidden the Book.
That’s why I couldn’t tell them what we were doing. We already knew how Liv felt about the
idea of trading John for the Book. And Uncle Macon wasn’t going to trust Ridley. Instead, I told
them I wanted to visit Ethan’s grave, and John volunteered to go with me.
Link was waiting for John and me back at the cemetery. The sky was dark now, and I could
barely make out where a crow circled high in the air above us, shrieking, as we made our way
toward the oldest part of His Garden of Perpetual Peace.
I shivered. That crow had to be some sort of omen. But there was no way of knowing which
kind. Either things were going to go well, and I would end the day with The Book of Moons and a
chance at getting Ethan back, or I’d fail and lose John in the process.
John Breed wasn’t the love of my life, but he was the love of someone’s life. And John and I
had spent more than a few dark months together, when he and Rid seemed like the only people I
could talk to. But John wasn’t the same guy he was back then. He had changed, and he didn’t
deserve to go back to a life with Abraham. I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.
What had I become?
bargaining with a life
that isn’t mine
isn’t a bargain
misery
doesn’t
come
cheap
John wouldn’t look at me. Even Link kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead of us. I felt like they
were disappointed in me for being so selfish.
I was disappointed in myself.
It is what it is, and I am what I am. I’m no better than Ridley. I only want what I want.
Either way, it didn’t stop my feet from walking.
I tried not to think about it as I followed Link and John through the trees. While most of His Garden
of Perpetual Peace was in the process of being restored to its pre–Vex attack state, the same wasn’t
true of the older part of the graveyard. I hadn’t seen it since the night the earth cracked open,
covering these hills with decomposing corpses and severed bones. Though the bodies were gone,
the ground was still overturned, huge sinkholes replacing the graves that had surrounded
generations of Wates since before the Civil War. Even if Ethan wasn’t here.
Thank God.
“This blows.” Link trudged up the hill with his garden shears in hand. “But don’t worry. I got
your back. He’s not going to take you off to creepy-old-guy-land. Not without a fight. Not with
these babies.”
John shoved Link to the side. “Put those things away, rookie. You won’t be able to get close
enough to Hunting to clip the grass around his feet. And if Abraham sees them, he’ll use them to slit
your throat without even touching them.”
Link shoved John back, and I ducked to avoid being knocked down the hill, as collateral
damage. “Yeah, well, they helped me out on the way to that guy Obidias’ place when I took out that
chicken-fried bat guy. Just don’t get me killed, Caster Boy.”
“Hold up a second.” John, now serious, stopped walking and turned to both of us. “Abraham is
no joke. You have no idea what he’s capable of—I’m not sure anyone does. Stay out of the way
and let me handle him. You’re backup, in case Hunting or your girlfriend gives us trouble.”
“Rid’s on our side, remember?” I reminded him.
“At least she’s supposed to be. And she’s not my girlfriend.” Link clenched his jaw.
“In my experience, the only side Ridley’s ever on is her own.” John stepped over a broken
statue of a praying angel, her hands cracked at the wrists. All the broken angels around here were
starting to feel like a bad omen.
Link looked annoyed, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to like it when anyone but him
criticized Ridley. I wondered if things could ever really be over between them.
He and John navigated around the broken caskets and tree limbs, reaching an enormous
sinkhole just beyond the old Honeycutt crypt. I did my best to keep up, but they were Incubuses, so
there was nothing I could do, short of Casting an Incubus-cloning spell.
But soon it didn’t matter, because we had nowhere left to go.
Abraham was waiting for us.
Either we had walked right into his trap or he had walked right into ours. It was almost time to
find out.
Abraham Ravenwood was standing on the far side of the sinkhole. Wearing a long black coat and
stovepipe hat and leaning against a splintered tree, he looked bored, as if this was an annoying
errand.
The Book of Moons was tucked under his arm.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “He brought it,” I said quietly.
“We don’t have it yet,” Link said under his breath.
Wearing a black turtleneck and a leather jacket, Hunting stood behind his great-great-greatgrandfather.
He was blowing smoke rings at Ridley. She coughed, waving the smoke away from
her red dress, and gave her uncle a dirty look.
There was something disturbing about seeing her dressed in red, standing a few feet away
from two Blood Incubuses. I hoped John was wrong and Ridley really was on our side—for Link’s
sake as much as my own.
We both loved her. And you couldn’t control who you loved, even if you wanted to. That had
been Genevieve’s problem with Ethan Carter Wate. It had been Uncle Macon’s problem with Lila,
Link’s with Ridley. Probably even Ridley’s with Link.
Love was how all these knots started to unravel in the first place.
“You brought it,” I called across to Abraham.
“And you’ve brought him.” Abraham’s eyes narrowed at the sight of John. “There’s my boy.
I’ve been so worried.”
John tensed. “I’m not your boy. And you’ve never cared about me, so you can stop
pretending.”
“That’s not true.” Abraham acted hurt. “I’ve put a great deal of energy into you.”
“Too much, if you ask me,” Hunting said.
“No one did,” Abraham snapped.
Hunting clenched his jaw and flicked his cigarette into the grass. He didn’t look pleased. Which
meant he would probably take that anger out on someone who didn’t deserve it and didn’t expect it.
We were all plausible candidates.
John looked disgusted. “You mean treating me like a slave and using me to do your dirty work?
Thanks, but I’m not interested in the kind of energy you put into things.”
Abraham stepped forward, his black string tie blowing in the breeze. “I don’t care what
interests you. You serve a purpose, and when you stop serving it, you won’t be useful to me
anymore. I think we both know how I feel about things that aren’t of any use to me.” He smirked.
“I watched Sarafine burn to death, and the only thing that bothered me was the ash on my jacket.”
He was telling the truth. I had watched my mother burn, too. Not that I thought of Sarafine
that way. But hearing Abraham talk about her like that made me feel something, even if I didn’t
know what.
Sympathy? Compassion?
Do I feel sorry for the woman who tried to kill me? Is that possible?
John had told me that Abraham hated Casters as much as Mortals. I hadn’t believed him until
that moment. Abraham Ravenwood was cold, calculating, and evil. He really was the Devil, or the
closest thing I’d ever met.
I watched as John raised his head high and called to Abraham. “Just give my friends the Book,
and I’ll leave with you. That was the deal.”
Abraham laughed, the Book still safely tucked under his arm. “The terms have changed. I think
I’ll keep it after all.” He nodded at Link. “And your new friend.”
Ridley stopped sucking on her lollipop. “You don’t want him. He’s worthless—trust me.” She
was lying.
Abraham knew it, too. A vicious smile spread across his face. “As you wish. Then we can feed
him to Hunting’s dogs. When we get home.”
There was a time when Link would’ve backed up, scared out of his mind. But that was before
John bit him and his life changed. Before Ethan died and everything changed.
I watched Link standing next to John now. He wasn’t going anywhere, even if he was afraid.
That Link was long gone.
John tried to step in front of him, but Link held out his arm. “I can defend myself.”
“Don’t be stupid,” John snapped. “You’re only a quarter Incubus. That makes you half as
strong as me, without the Caster blood.”
“Boys.” Abraham snapped his fingers. “This is all very moving, but it’s time to get going. I
have things to do and people to kill.”
John squared his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you unless you give them the Book.
I’ve come into contact with some powerful Casters lately. I make my own choices now.”
John collected powers the way Abraham collected victims. Ridley’s Power of Persuasion, even
some of my abilities as a Natural. Not to mention the ones he absorbed from all the other Casters
who unknowingly touched him. Abraham had to be wondering whose power John had tapped into.
Still, I started to panic. Why hadn’t we taken John back down into the Tunnels to collect a few
more? Who was I to think we could take on Abraham?
Hunting glanced at Abraham, and a flash of recognition passed between them—a secret they
shared.
“Is that so?” Abraham dropped The Book of Moons at his feet. “Then why don’t you come
over here and take it?”
John had to know it was some kind of trick, but he started walking anyway.
I wished Liv were here to see how brave he was. Then again, I was glad she wasn’t. Because I
could barely stand to watch him take another step closer to the ancient Incubus, and I wasn’t the
girl who loved him.
Abraham held out his hand and flicked his wrist, like he was turning a doorknob.
With that one motion, everything changed. Instantly, John grabbed his head like someone had
just cracked it open from the inside, and dropped to his knees.
Abraham kept his arm in front of him, closing his fist slowly, and John jerked violently,
screaming in pain.
“What the hell?” Link grabbed John’s arm and yanked him to his feet.
John could barely stand. He swayed, trying to regain his balance.
Hunting laughed. Ridley was still standing next to him, and I could see the lollipop shaking in
her hand.
I tried to think of a Cast, anything that would stop Abraham, even for a second.
Abraham stepped closer, gathering up the bottom of his coat to keep it from dragging in the
mud. “Did you think I would create something as powerful as you if I couldn’t control it?”
John froze, his green eyes fearful. He squinted hard, trying to fight the pain. “What are you
talking about?”
“I think we both know,” Abraham said. “I made you, boy. Found the right combination—the
parentage I needed—and created a new breed of Incubus.”
John staggered back, stunned. “That’s a lie. You found me when I was a kid.”
Abraham smiled. “That depends on your interpretation of the word found.”
“What are you saying?” John’s face was ashen.
“We took you. I did engineer you, after all.” Abraham dug around in his jacket pocket and
removed a cigar. “Your parents had a few happy years together. It’s more than most of us get.”
“What happened to my parents?” John gritted his teeth. I could almost see the rage.
Abraham turned to Hunting, who lit the cigar with a silver lighter. “Answer the boy, Hunting.”
Hunting flipped the top of the lighter closed. He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, kid. They
were juicy. And chewy. But I can’t remember the details.”
John lurched forward and ripped through the darkness.
One second he was there. The next, he was gone, sliding away in a ripple of air. He reappeared
just inches in front of Abraham and wrapped his hand around the old Incubus’ throat. “I’m going to
kill you, you sick son of a bitch.”
The tendons in John’s arm tightened, but his grip didn’t.
The muscles in his hand were tensing, his fingers obviously trying to close, but they wouldn’t.
John grabbed his wrist with his other hand, trying to brace it.
Abraham laughed. “You can’t hurt me. I’m the architect of the design. Think I would build a
weapon like you without a kill switch?”
Ridley stepped back, watching as John’s hand loosened against his will, his fingers opening as
he tried to force them closed again with his other hand. It was impossible.
I couldn’t bear to watch. Abraham seemed more in control of John now than he had on the
night of the Seventeenth Moon. Worse, John’s awareness didn’t seem to change the fact that he
couldn’t control his body. Abraham was pulling the strings.
“You’re a monster,” John hissed, still holding his wrist inches from Abraham’s throat.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. You’ve caused me lots of problems, boy. You owe me.”
Abraham smiled. “And I plan to take it out of your flesh.”
He twitched his hands again, and John rose off the ground further, clutching his own neck
with his hands, strangling himself.
Abraham was trying to do more than make a point. “You have outlived your usefulness. All that
work for nothing.”
John’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went limp.
“Don’t you need him?” Ridley shouted. “You said he was the ultimate weapon.”
“Unfortunately, he’s defective,” Abraham answered.
I noticed something move in my peripheral vision a moment before I heard his voice.
“One could say the same thing about you, Grandfather.” Uncle Macon stepped out from behind
one of the crypts, his green eyes glowing in the darkness. “Put the boy down.”
Abraham laughed, though his expression was anything but amused. “Defective? That’s a
compliment, coming from the little Incubus who wanted to be a Caster.”
Abraham’s grip on John loosened just enough for John to get some air. The Blood Incubus was
focusing his anger on Uncle Macon now.
“I never wanted to be a Caster, but I’m glad to accept any fate that unburdens me from the
Darkness you brought upon this family.” Uncle Macon pointed a hand at John, and a wave of
energy flashed across the graveyard, the blast hitting John squarely.
John yanked his hands away from his neck as his body dropped to the ground.
Hunting started toward his brother, but Abraham stopped him, clapping dramatically. “Nicely
done. That’s quite a party trick, son. Maybe next time you can light my cigar.” Abraham’s features
settled in his familiar sneer. “Enough games. Let’s finish this.”
Hunting didn’t hesitate.
He ripped through the darkness as Uncle Macon focused his green eyes on the black sky.
Hunting materialized in front of his brother just as the sky exploded into a blanket of pure light.
Sunlight.
Uncle Macon had done it once before, in the parking lot of Jackson High, but this time the light
was even more intense—and focused. That light coming from him had been Caster green. This time
it was something stronger and more natural, as if the light came from the sky itself.
Hunting’s body jerked. He reached out and grabbed his brother’s shirt, taking them both to the
ground.
But the killing light only intensified.
Abraham’s skin went pale, the color of white ash. The light seemed to weaken him, but not
nearly as quickly as it was draining Hunting.
Even as Hunting desperately tried to stay alive, Abraham only seemed interested in trying to kill
us. The old Blood Incubus was too strong, and he reached out for Uncle Macon. I knew better than
to underestimate him. Even wounded, he wouldn’t give up until he destroyed us all.
An overwhelming sense of panic surged inside me. I concentrated every thought, every cell on
Abraham. The earth around him bucked, tearing itself from the ground like a rug being pulled out
from under him. Abraham staggered and then turned his attention to me.
He closed his hand around the air in front of him, and an invisible force tightened around my
throat. I felt my feet rise off the ground, my Chucks kicking below me.
“Lena!” John shouted. He closed his eyes, concentrating on Abraham, but whatever he was
planning, he wasn’t fast enough.
I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t think so.” Abraham twisted his free hand, bringing John to his knees in seconds.
Link charged Abraham, but another simple flick of the Blood Incubus’ wrist sent him flying.
Link’s back hit the jagged stone crypt with a loud crack.
I struggled to stay conscious. Hunting was below me, his hands around Uncle Macon’s neck.
But he didn’t seem to have enough strength left to hurt his brother. The color slowly drained from
Hunting’s skin, turning his body hauntingly transparent.
I gasped for breath, transfixed, as Hunting’s hands slid from Uncle M’s neck and he started
writhing in pain.
“Macon! Stop!” he pleaded.
Uncle Macon focused his energy on his brother. The light held steady as the darkness leached
out of Hunting’s body and into the overturned earth.
Hunting seized, and sucked in his last breath. Then his body shuddered and froze.
“I’m sorry, brother. You left me no choice.” Macon stared down at what was left before
Hunting’s corpse disintegrated, as if he had never existed at all.
“One down,” he said grimly.
Abraham shielded his eyes, trying to determine if Hunting was really gone. The color was
beginning to seep out of Abraham’s skin now, but it had only made it as far as his wrists. He would
kill me long before the sunlight took him out. I had to do something before we all ended up dead.
I closed my eyes, trying to push past the pain. My mind was slipping into numbness.
Thunder rumbled overhead.
“A storm? Is that all you’ve got, my dear?” Abraham said. “Such a waste. Just like your
mother.”
Anger and guilt churned inside me. Sarafine was a monster, but she was a monster Abraham
had helped create. Abraham had used her weaknesses to lure her into Darkness. And I had watched
her die. Maybe we were both monsters.
Maybe we all are.
“I’m nothing like my mother!” Sarafine’s fate was decided for her, and she wasn’t strong
enough to fight it. I was.
Lightning tore across the sky and struck a tree behind Abraham. Flames raced down the trunk.
Abraham took off his hat and shook it with one hand, careful to keep the hand tethered to my
throat tightly clenched. “I always say it’s not a party until something catches fire.”
My uncle rose to his feet, his black hair messy and his green eyes glowing even brighter than
before. “I would have to agree.”
The light in the sky intensified, blazing like a spotlight on Abraham. As we watched, the beam
exploded in a blinding flash of white—forming two horizontal beams of pure energy.
Abraham swayed, shielding his eyes. His iron grip retracted, and my body fell to the rotting
soil.
Time seemed to stop.
We all stared at the white beams spreading across the sky.
Except one of us.
Link ripped before anyone else had a chance to react—dematerializing in a split second, like he
was a pro. I couldn’t believe it. The only times he’d ever ripped in front of me, he practically
flattened me like a pancake.
Not this time.
A crack in space opened up for him, only inches in front of Abraham Ravenwood.
Link yanked the garden shears out of the waistband of his jeans, raising them above his head.
He plunged them into Abraham’s heart before the old Incubus even realized what had happened.
Abraham’s black eyes widened and he stared at Link, struggling to stay alive as a circle of red
seeped slowly out around the blades.
Link leaned in close. “All that engineerin’ wasn’t for nothin’, Mr. Ravenwood. I’m the best a
both worlds. A hybrid Incubus with his own onboard navigation.”
Abraham coughed desperately, his eyes fixed on the mostly Mortal boy who had taken him
down. Finally, his body slid to the ground, the stolen science lab shears protruding from his chest.
Link stood over the body of the Blood Incubus who had hunted us for so long. The one person
generations of Casters hadn’t been able to touch.
Link grinned at John and nodded. “Screw all that Incubus crap. That’s how you do it Mortalstyle.”

Categories: Beautiful Redemption

Beautiful Redemption - Chapter 25

Link stood over Abraham’s body, watching as it started to disintegrate into tiny particles of
nothing.
Ridley stepped up beside him, looping her arm through his. “Grab the scissors, Hot Rod. They
might come in handy if I need to cut myself out of a cage sometime.”
Link pulled the shears from what was left of the Blood Incubus. “I would like to take this
opportunity to thank the Jackson High Biology Department. Stay in school, kids.” He shoved the
shears back into his jeans.
John walked over and slapped Link on the shoulder. “Thanks for saving my ass. Mortal-style.”
“You know it. I got some mad skills.” Link grinned.
Uncle Macon brushed off his trousers. “I don’t think anyone can argue with that assessment,
Mr. Lincoln. Well played. Your timing was impeccable.”
“How did you know we were here?” I asked. Had Amma seen something and given us away?
“Mr. Breed was kind enough to leave a note.”
I turned to John, who was kicking at the dirt with his boot. “You told him what we were
doing? What about our plans? What about the part where we agreed not to tell my uncle anything?”
“I didn’t. The note was for Liv,” he answered sheepishly. “I couldn’t just disappear without
saying good-bye.”
Link shook his head. “Seriously, dude? Another note? Why didn’t you just leave a map?”
This was the second time John’s guilty conscience and one of his notes had led Liv—or, in this
case, my uncle—to him.
“You should all be grateful for Mr. Breed’s sentimental inclinations,” Uncle M said. “Or I’m
afraid this evening could have resulted in a very unfortunate outcome.”
Link elbowed John. “You’re still a sap.”
I stopped listening.
Why couldn’t Liv keep her mouth shut?
Another voice entered my mind.
I hardly think blaming Liv for your mistakes is necessary.
I was almost too stunned to speak. My uncle had never Kelted with me before. It was a power
he could only have acquired after his transition into a Caster.
“How?”
“You know my abilities are constantly evolving. This one is unpredictable, I’m afraid.” He
shrugged innocently.
I tried not to think. It didn’t seem to stop him from scolding me.
Really? You thought you could take on Abraham alone, in a graveyard?
“But how did you know where we were?” John asked. “I didn’t put that in the note.”
Oh my God….
“Uncle M? Can you read minds?”
“Hardly.” My uncle snapped his fingers, and Boo lumbered up the hill. Knowing my uncle, it
was practically a confession.
I felt my hair lift from my shoulders as a gentle wind whipped around me. I tried to calm
down. “You were spying on me? I thought we made a deal about that.”
“That was before you and your friends decided you were equipped to take on Abraham
Ravenwood on your own.” His voice rose. “Have you learned nothing?”
The Book of Moons lay in the dirt, the moon embossed on its black leather cover facing the
sky.
Link bent down to pick it up.
“I wouldn’t do that, Hot Rod,” Ridley said. “You don’t have that much Incubus in you.” She
picked up the Book and touched her lollipop to his lips almost like a kiss. “Wouldn’t want those
pretty hands to get burned.”
“Thanks, Babe.”
“Don’t call me—”
Link grabbed the lollipop out of her hand. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
I watched the way they looked at each other. Any idiot could see they were in love, even if
they were the only two idiots who couldn’t.
My chest ached, and I thought about Ethan.
the missing piece
my breath
my heart
my memory
me
the other half
the missing half
Stop.
I didn’t want to write poems in my mind, especially if my uncle could hear them. I needed to
send a completely different kind of message. “Rid, give it to me.”
She nodded and handed me The Book of Moons.
The Book that nearly killed Ethan and then Uncle Macon. The Book that took more than it ever
gave. Part of me wanted to set it on fire and see if it would burn, though I doubted something as
mundane as fire could destroy it.
It still would have been worth a try if it prevented even one person from using the Book to hurt
someone else—or themselves. But Ethan needed it, and I trusted him. Whatever he was doing, I
believed he wouldn’t use it to hurt anyone. And I wasn’t sure he could hurt himself now.
“We have to take it to Lila’s grave.”
Uncle Macon studied me for a long moment, an unfamiliar mixture of sadness and worry
warring in his eyes. “All right.”
I recognized his tone. He was indulging me.
I started walking toward Lila Wate’s grave, next to the empty plot where the good folks of
Gatlin believed my uncle was buried.
Ridley sighed dramatically. “Great. More time in the creepy graveyard.”
Link slung his arm over her shoulders casually. “Don’t worry, Babe. I’ll protect you.”
Ridley looked at him suspiciously. “Protect me? You do realize I’m a Dark Caster again?”
“I like to think you’re kinda on the gray side. Either way, I’ll give you a pass today. I did just
kill the Galactus of Incubuses.”
Rid flipped her blond and pink hair. “Whatever that means.”
I stopped listening and wove my way through the cemetery, The Book of Moons pressed
against my chest. I felt the heat radiating from it, as if the worn leather cover might burn me, too.
I knelt in front of Ethan’s mother’s grave. This was the spot where I’d left the black stone from
my necklace for him. It seemed to work then; I could only hope it would work again. The Book of
Moons had to be a whole lot more important than a rock.
My uncle stared at the headstone, transfixed. I wondered how long he would love her. Forever,
that was my best guess.
For whatever reason, this place was a doorway I couldn’t find my way through. The important
thing was that Ethan could open it somehow.
He had to.
I put the Book on the grave, touching it for what I hoped would be the last time.
I don’t know why you need it, Ethan. But here it is. Please come home.
I waited as if it might disappear right in front of me.
Nothing happened.
“Maybe we should leave it alone,” Link suggested. “Ethan probably needs privacy or somethin’
to do his ghost tricks.”
“He’s not a ghost,” I snapped.
Link held up his hands. “Sorry. His Sheer tricks.”
He didn’t realize that the word didn’t matter. It was the image the word called up in my mind.
A pale, lifeless Ethan. Dead. The way I found him the night of my Sixteenth Moon, after Sarafine
stabbed him. Panic pressed against my lungs like two hands squeezing the breath out of me. I
couldn’t stand to think about it.
“Let’s leave it and see what happens,” John said.
“Absolutely not.” Uncle Macon was done indulging me. “I’m sorry, Lena—”
“What if it was Lila?”
His face clouded over at the mention of her name. The question hung in the air, but we both
knew the answer.
If the woman he loved needed him, he would do anything to help—from this side of the grave
or any other.
I knew that, too.
He studied me for a long moment. Then he sighed, nodding. “All right. You can try. But if it
doesn’t work—”
“Yeah, yeah. We can’t just ditch the most powerful book in the Caster and Mortal worlds on
some grave and walk away.” Ridley was still perched on the headstone, smacking her gum. “What
if someone finds it?”
“I’m afraid Ridley’s right.” Uncle Macon sighed. “I’ll wait here.”
“I don’t think it will work if you’re here, sir. You’re a scary kinda person, too,” Link said as
respectfully as possible. “Sir.”
“We are not leaving The Book of Moons unattended, Mr. Lincoln.”
An idea took hold slowly, stretching out until it was perfectly formed. “Maybe we don’t need
someone to stay with the Book, but something.”
“Huh?” Link scratched his head.
I bent down. “Boo, come here, boy.”
Boo Radley stood up and shook his black fur, which was as thick as a wolf’s.
I dug my fingers behind his ears. “That’s my good boy.”
“Not a bad idea.” Rid put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.
“You really think one dog can fight off the Blood Pack if they show up?” Link asked.
Uncle Macon crossed his arms. “Boo Radley is hardly a common dog.”
“Even a Caster dog can use a little help,” Rid said.
A branch cracked, and something leaped from the bushes.
“Holy crap!” Link yanked the garden shears out of his waistband just as Bade’s paws hit the
ground.
Leah Ravenwood’s enormous mountain cat growled.
Uncle M smiled. “My sister’s cat. An excellent idea. She does provide a certain level of
intimidation that Boo lacks.”
Boo barked, offended.
“Here, kitty kitty….” Ridley reached out her hand, and Bade stalked over.
Link stared at her. “You’re a total psycho.”
Bade growled at Link again, and Rid laughed. “You’re just mad because Bade doesn’t like you,
Hot Stuff.”
John took a step back. “Yeah, well, I’m not petting her either.”
“So we leave the Book for a little while and see what happens.” I hugged Boo. “You stay here.”
The Caster dog sat down in front of the grave like a guard dog, and Bade came over and stretched
out in front of him lazily.
I stood up, but I was having trouble forcing myself to walk away.
What if something happened to it? The Book might be Ethan’s only chance to get back to me.
Could I risk it?
John noticed I wasn’t moving, and pointed to the rise a few yards beyond the grave. “We can
hang out on the other side in case they need some backup. Okay?”
Ridley hopped off the headstone, her platforms smacking against the border of the plot. In the
South, that had to be the equivalent of something like seven years of bad luck. Maybe more in
Gatlin.
She draped her arm over my shoulders and waved a lollipop in front of me. “Come on. I’ll tell
you all about my adventures in shackles.”
Link jogged up next to us. “Did you say shackles? Those are like handcuffs, right?” He seemed
a little too excited about hearing the details.
“Mr. Lincoln!” Uncle M looked like he wanted to strangle him.
Link stopped in his tracks. “Uh, sorry, sir. It was just a joke. You know…”
I let Ridley drag me down the other side of the hill while Link tried to talk his way out of
trouble with Uncle Macon. John trudged behind us, his boots as heavy as any Mortal’s footsteps.
If I closed my eyes, I could pretend they were Ethan’s.
But it was getting harder and harder to pretend. I was Kelting to him before I even realized it,
the same three words over and over.
Please come home.
I wondered if he could hear me. If he was already on his way.
I counted the minutes, wondering how long we should wait before checking on the Book. Even
Link and Ridley’s banter couldn’t distract me, which was saying a lot.
“I think all this quarter-Incubus stuff is going to your head,” Ridley said.
Link flexed. “Or maybe it’s taking out the baddest badass around.”
Ridley rolled her eyes. “Please.”
“Do you two ever stop?” John asked.
They both whipped around to look at him. “Stop what?” they asked at the same time.
I was about to tell John not to bother, when I saw a streak of black in the sky.
The crow. The same one that had watched us when we went to meet Abraham. Maybe it was
following us.
Maybe it knew something.
It dipped and circled the area above Ethan’s grave.
“It’s the crow.” I took off back up the hill.
John ripped and appeared at my side. “What are you talking about?”
Link and the others caught up to us. “Where’s the fire?”
I pointed at the bird. “I think that crow has been following us.”
Uncle Macon studied the bird. “Interesting.”
Ridley smacked her gum. “What?”
“A Seer like Amarie would tell you that many believe crows can cross between the world of the
living and the world of the dead.”
We made it over the rise. Bade and Boo were staring up at the sleek black bird.
“So what? Even if it could fly from world to world, you really think that little bird could carry
The Book a Moons?” Link asked.
I didn’t know. But the crow was connected to Ethan somehow. I was sure of it.
“Why is it circling like that?” John asked.
Ridley strolled up behind us. “It’s probably scared of the giant cat.”
For once, she might be right.
“Bade and Boo, go home,” I called. The big cat’s ears perked up at the sound of her name.
Boo hesitated and looked up at Uncle Macon.
He nodded to the dog. “Go on.”
Boo cocked his head. Then he turned and lumbered through the tall grass. Bade yawned, baring
her huge white teeth, and followed, her tail swishing like a lion’s from one of the nature shows Link
was always watching on the Discovery Channel. He blamed it on his mom, but in the last couple of
months, I’d noticed him watching it by himself more than a few times.
The crow circled again and swooped toward us, landing on the headstone. Its beady black eyes
seemed to be staring right at me.
“How come it’s checkin’ you out like that?” Link asked.
I stared back at the black bird.
Please. Take the Book or make it disappear. Whatever you have to do to get it to Ethan.
Uncle Macon looked at me from the other side of the headstone.
He can’t hear you, Lena. You can’t Kelt with a bird, I’m afraid.
I glared at my uncle. At this point, I would try anything.
How do you know?
The crow hopped down, its talons touching the thick leather cover for a split second before it
squawked and pulled its legs up again quickly.
“I think the Book burned it,” John said. “Poor guy.”
I knew he was right. I felt the tears welling in my eyes. If the crow couldn’t touch the Book,
how would we get it to Ethan? I’d left the black stone Ethan had asked for, the one from my charm
necklace, right here on the grave. I didn’t know what had happened to it after that.
“Maybe the bird has nothing to do with it, and he’s just a messenger or something,” John
offered.
I sniffled, swiping at my face. “Then what’s the message?”
John squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry.”
“How are we going to get the Book to Ethan? He needs it, or he can’t—” I couldn’t finish. I
couldn’t stand to even think it.
We had risked our lives to track down Abraham Ravenwood, and we had found a way to kill
him—at least Link had. The Book of Moons was right here at my feet, and there was no way to get
it to Ethan.
“We’ll figure it out, Cuz.” Ridley picked up the Book, the back cover dragging across the
stone. “Someone must have the answer.”
John smiled at me. “Someone does. Especially when it comes to that book. Come on—let’s go
ask her.”
A flutter of hope filled my chest. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
He nodded. “It is Presidents’ Day, which was still a bank holiday the last time I checked.”
Ridley pulled on the bottom of her miniskirt, which didn’t move an inch. “Who’s thinking
what, and where are we going?”
I grabbed her arm, tugging her down the hill. “Your favorite place, Rid. The library.”
“It’s not that bad,” she said, inspecting her purple nail polish. “Except for all those books.”
I didn’t respond.
There was only one book that mattered right now, and my whole world—and Ethan’s future—
depended on it.

Categories: Beautiful Redemption