Dangerous Creatures (Dangerous Creatures 1)

Better than a part-Mortal, too. Especially this one.

Link was sitting on an abandoned couch tossed halfway on the sidewalk, halfway into the street. The sopping, puke green cushions were wetter than sponges in a fishbowl, as Link would normally say, but he didn’t seem to care that sitting on them was only making him wetter. Not now.

She knew the mood. He was past caring about anything.

He was past furious.

She’d crossed a line, but in her mind, she had crossed it so long ago that she couldn’t even remember when or why or how it had happened.

It was hard to keep track of the lines, there had been so many.

She sat down next to Link.

He didn’t look at her. The rain hit his face as he stared out at the depressing park with the cracked pavement right across the intersection from them. “You don’t believe anything good can happen to me. Ever.”

“That’s not true.”

“You think I’m stupid.” He sounded defeated.

“Don’t be—” Stupid. She caught herself just in time. “I don’t. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks about you.”

He shook his head. “See? There you go again. Why do you assume whatever someone thinks about me will be bad?”

“Because you act like a freaking idiot so much of the time.” There. She’d said it. She couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. Don’t hold back, now.” Link turned to her. “Answer me this, Rid. Did you use magic in there, at any time, when we were in Sirene?”

“No. I told you that. It wasn’t me. But I have an idea—”

He cut her off. He was in no mood to listen. “Did you, for even one second, stick one of those stupid lollipops in your mouth and do your thing?”

“No. Not once we got inside.” I even double-checked, she thought uncomfortably. But I think someone did.

Link looked relieved. “Then why are you freakin’ me out about the best gig a my life? Maybe the greatest night a my life? Why can’t you let me have that? Why can’t I enjoy this for just a second before you come in and take it all away from me?”

Ridley didn’t know.

She didn’t know why she broke everything she played with. Why she hurt everyone she cared about. Lost everything she found. Pushed away everything she wanted.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you. Anything else,” she said carefully. “And if it wasn’t me helping you tonight, then—”

Link held up a hand. “Face it, Rid. You’re jealous.”

“Jealous? What do you have that I could ever be jealous of? Except maybe me.” She refused to bring up Floyd the Rockerette, because deep down, she knew that none of this was really about her. It was about something bigger.

“You’re jealous of my dream,” Link said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ridley scoffed. “I’m looking out for you.”

“No, you’re not. You’re jealous because you don’t have a dream of your own.” Link braced himself like he was afraid to say it. Like he was ready to duck from whatever she was going to throw at him.

What she wanted to throw was the couch. But she didn’t. Instead, she used her words, and not even supernatural ones. Lena would be proud.

“That’s really mean.”

“But it’s true.” He shook his head sadly. “I just call it like I see it, Rid.”

“Link.” She took a breath.

“When something good happens to me, you act like it’s an accident, or magic, or some sorta joke. Like you can’t believe I earned it.”

“Link—” She tried again.

He held up his hand. “I want to be someone, make somethin’ outta my life. You’re afraid to let me have that, and I don’t know why.” He stared straight ahead as he said it, out into the cold, wet street. Looking anywhere but at me, Ridley thought. That was how she knew he was for real.

She was stunned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, get your own dream.”

The words sounded like rain to her. Gray and soggy and depressing.

“I have dreams. You’ll see. And then you’ll feel like the giant idiot that you actually are.” Ridley stood in the rain. “I felt it. In the club, back there. Someone was using the Power of Persuasion. Someone was watching us, too.”

“Yeah. It’s called an audience.”

Rid bristled. “What do you think that stunt with Ryan was?”

He shrugged. “Kids sneak out to see bands all the time.”

She tried to control herself. She tried to stay calm. She had to make him understand, whether or not she felt like unleashing every Cast and hex in the Caster universe on him.

Which she did.

“Link. We’re not safe here. This isn’t me being jealous or crazy. This isn’t about me wanting to be the center of attention. I know what the Power of Persuasion feels like, because I have it, too.” She looked at him, daring him to even try to stop her.

He didn’t.

“There are some things I still know better than a brand-new hybrid Incubus. This is one of them, whether or not you want to believe it. And I’m sorry if that means you suck as a band. I’m sorry if you’re never going to be Sting. I’m sorry if nobody really wanted you for a drummer after all. But I’m not sorry that I’m telling you the truth.”

There.

It had to be said, and now she’d said it. She only wished it didn’t make her feel so awful. The way the words had sounded as they came out of her mouth was almost as bad as the look on Link’s face.

“Why should I believe you now?” he asked.

She wanted to smack him.

“Why should you believe me ever?” She wiped the rain off her face. “Look. This is me doing the best I can. I’m not perfect, but I am trying to help you.”

“Some help.” He still wasn’t buying it. She didn’t know what more she could say to him.

“Someone’s setting you up, and they’re going to take you down. Maybe both of us. That’s how it works. Trust me. I invented that game.”

Tell him. Tell him what Lennox Gates said. Tell him that Abraham Ravenwood is going to come for him. That he will never be safe.

That you got him into this mess in the first place.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to live in that world. It was no place

for regular people. She had to take care of this.

She had to handle it for both of them.

Link didn’t say a word.

Ridley felt herself swaying, on the inside. She felt little pieces of her breaking off, smashing into the street like that old couch Link was sitting on.

“I can’t believe a word you say anymore, and that’s the truth,” Link said. “That’s all the truth I’m ever going to get from you, isn’t it, Rid?”

She knew she was going to burst into tears, and she couldn’t let that happen. She was Ridley Duchannes. Nobody made her feel like this. Nobody but a dumb quarter Incubus from the middle of nowhere.

But deep down, she knew something else, too.

He’s right.

She took a deep breath.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you. Some things happened that night at Suffer. I didn’t beat a Dark Caster in a game of Liar’s Trade. I lost to Sampson. Because I didn’t know he was a Darkborn, and I couldn’t—” Rid shrugged.

“Cheat?”

“Pretty much.”

“So you lost your shirt to Sammy Boy, huh?” Link smiled, in spite of his anger. “I guess he’d have a good poker face.”

“I didn’t lose my shirt to him. Not exactly. He was playing for the house.”

“What house?” Link asked slowly.

“The club. Suffer.”

“You mean Lennox Gates?” He didn’t look at her.

Ridley nodded.

“What did you lose, Rid?” Link’s tone was darker now.

She swallowed. “Two markers.” She really didn’t want to tell him the rest, but she knew she had to. It had all gotten too big for just one person.

“One was for a drummer. Because the drummer for Devil’s Hangmen lost his talent in the game. When I cheated it out of him.” She didn’t look at Link.

“A drummer?”

Rid nodded. She felt her eyes starting to water.

“So you had to hand me over in return? You lost me in a card game? Some sick Dark Caster game?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like, Rid? You sold me out and then you lied to me about it ever since?”

“I feel awful, Shrinky Dink. You have to believe me. And I thought it would be good for you. I thought you’d get a chance to be in a real band, even if it was a Caster one.”