“Don’t bother lying. I know all about John.”
The Chemist stumbled back as if Nox had pointed a gun at him.
Nox took a step closer. “John Breed. That was his name, right?”
“I didn’t want to do it. Abraham Ravenwood forced me.”
“He was just a kid.” Nox shook his head.
“You don’t know what he was like or what he would have done—” The Chemist examined Nox more closely, his whole body shaking. “Wait. You’re the boy. John. You’re finally here to kill me, aren’t you?”
Progress.
Nox took advantage of the Chemist’s fear. “I’m not John. But I know where he is.”
It was sort of the truth.
And it could’ve been me.
“If you don’t tell me where the labs are, I’ll bring John here so he can thank you in person.”
The Chemist started talking so fast Nox could barely understand him. “They’re behind Abraham’s house. You can’t access them from here, but there’s a door along the Mile that leads right into his house.”
Of course.
“How do I find the door?”
“Get to the Mile just before the sun comes up. Ravenwood’s cook will be there, unless the old Caster is dead by now. Follow her. But you won’t find Abraham Ravenwood there. He’s dead. People say your friend John killed him.” The Chemist had a crazed look in his bloodshot eyes. “I’m probably next.”
“If the labs aren’t where you say they are, you will be.” Nox tossed the hundred-dollar bill on the kitchen counter. The Mile wasn’t a hard place to find.
The junkie’s eyes flicked between Nox and the money, but fear was no match for the Shine. He lunged for it and scrambled past Nox.
By the time Nox reached the first floor again, the Chemist already had a plastic bag in his hand. He was killing himself, one tiny piece of Sunshine at a time.
As he made his way through the shadowy world of the Tunnels, Nox was haunted by his own demons. He’d spent most of his life trying to forget his past, and this was the reason. It opened a sea of darkness that threatened to drown him. No one was strong enough to hold off an entire sea, and he had never felt closer to going under.
He desperately wanted to think about anything other than his childhood—or Silas Ravenwood.
To be more specific, Silas Ravenwood and Ridley.
He tried to shake it off, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more clearly the images took shape in his mind.
What Silas might be doing to her right now—or making her do. What he could do to her, if he wanted to. Or if she was already gone.
Nox stopped and leaned against the side of the Tunnel wall, letting his head drop into his hands. The thought put him over the edge, and when he went that far over, he couldn’t think straight. When he couldn’t think straight, he made stupid mistakes. Stupid mistakes could end up getting Ridley hurt.
Stop.
Find something else to think about. Anything else. Just keep it together until you get to New Orleans.
He had to know if Silas Ravenwood had gotten his hands on Ridley.
Or her corpse.
Nox drew his lighter out of his pocket and held it up in front of him. He felt the familiar coiling in his stomach at the thought of the unshakable stone of whatever the future held.
Might as well strap the Wheel of Fate to my back right now.
But it didn’t matter.
He didn’t matter. This had stopped being about him the moment he’d seen the car crash, inside the lighter’s flames the last time.
With a shaking hand, he struck the flint and looked into the flickering light….
At first there was nothing but fog, thicker and blacker than usual.
Nox made his way into the depths of it, just as he always did.
The smoke of time and memory and everything else that stood between the Dark Caster and his even darker visions.
Nox pushed through.
When the shadows began to clear and the vision began to take shape, Nox thought something was wrong.
I’m losing my Sight. I can’t see anything.
Then he realized he was seeing something.
The smoke formed broad vertical lines, as if someone had spilled black ink over his head and now it was dripping in front of his eyes.
Like trees in a forest, flashing by a speeding car. Like a picket fence, only black, not white.
He almost smiled at the idea of one of his visions showing him something as happy and peaceful as a white picket fence. Then he stopped smiling, because the smoke began to focus itself into a more detailed shape, and Nox Gates realized exactly what he was looking at.
Bars.
Prison bars.
He forced himself to control the vision. Slowly, he pushed his way down the bars until he saw it … her face. Pale and unmoving. Scratched and bruised and covered with dry blood. Her lips were purplish blue.
Ridley—
Ridley, wake up. It’s me. It’s Nox.
It was no use. Her lips were parted but remained unmoving. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. He held on to the sight of her for as long as he could. He couldn’t bear to let it slip away, because he didn’t know if he’d ever see it again.
By the time the vision began to fade, his eyes were as blurry as the smoke.
She’s alive. That’s what the vision means.
It would take more than one Ravenwood to kill Ridley Duchannes. Maybe more than two. He couldn’t let himself consider the alternative. He pushed himself off the wall and kept moving. Someone had to do the right thing. Someone had to show up for her, whether or not it was too late.
Not just anyone. Me.
Nox didn’t trust anyone else. He was the only one who really knew, because he was the only one who had watched it all happen before.
I have to stop him. I have to find her.
Ridley.
He wouldn’t let the Ravenwoods do this to another Siren he cared about. But it was more than that. Nox couldn’t escape it, and he didn’t want to. He’d never felt this way about anyone, and it terrified him.
Because he knew what happened to the people he cared about.
In the hands of a Dark Caster, love is a death sentence.
The thought—and the feeling—hit him hard, and Lennox Gates knew one thing for sure. He loved Ridley Duchannes.
CHAPTER 7: RIDLEY
Return of the Warlord
You have to stay awake.
Ridley struggled to keep her eyes open.
Fight it off. Stay in control.
If you stay awake, you can think. If you think, you can find a way out of here. A way back to Link.
But it was no use, and Ridley found herself drifting in and out of a restless sleep, filled with surreal dreams and hallucinations.
Not again. Don’t close your eyes again.
Think of Lena and Link. Think of your friends.
Drugs. It had to be drugs.
Only now she couldn’t remember them doing it.
Link. I can’t. I’m so tired.
But then she felt her eyes closing again, and she almost didn’t care anymore, because with sleep came dreams of Link.
“So where do you want to go? Sky’s the limit, Babe.” Link glanced at me from behind the wheel of the Beater. In front of us, there was nothing but highway, and above us¸ nothing but blue sky.
“Don’t call me Babe,” I said. But after everything that had happened, I was actually starting to like it. Not that I’d ever admit it to him. I propped my platforms up on the dashboard. “Definitely not the South. I think we should head west. LA, Vegas … somewhere we can hole up in a four-star hotel, order room service, basically the opposite of everything we were doing in New York.”
Link grinned and turned up “Stairway to Heaven.”
“Whatever you say, Sugarplum. But only because I’m crazy about you, and I’ve never been to the West Coast.” He smiled at me again, looking happier than I’
ve ever seen him.
Lucille meowed from the backseat and jumped between us. Today, even that fleabag couldn’t ruin my mood.
The song was halfway over, and I realized I was holding my breath. It felt like something terrible was about to happen, and I was waiting for it.
Link sang along with Led Zeppelin, and I kept waiting.
And waiting.
The song ended, and I exhaled. Everything was okay. We were gonna make it. All the way to LA, or Vegas, or wherever the hell we wanted to go. And I was gonna charm our way into the nicest hotel I could find and keep Link as far from New York City as I could.
New York City.
A thought slipped through my mind, but I lost it. It had something to do with New York. Something I left behind.
Nox.
The thought slammed into me, and I saw the black truck speeding toward us, and “Stairway to Heaven” was playing all over again.
That’s when the screaming started—
Link—
Ridley bolted upright, clawing at the sheets around her. The chandelier was switched on. But even in the dim light, her vision was still blurry.
Of course. They drugged me again.
She vaguely remembered the Darkborn entering her cell—her room. That was what he’d called it. But this wasn’t a room any more than Ridley was a guest. She remembered bits and pieces of her conversation with other girls in the cells somewhere in the hallway.
I’m not the only prisoner. There were girls. They had names and faces.
I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?