Beautiful Creatures (Caster Chronicles 1)

Lena looked up at Marian, shoving the dusty book back on the shelf. “The Casters in our family, we’re still in a war, aren’t we?”

Marian looked at her sadly. “A House Divided, that’s what President Lincoln called it. And yes, Lena, I’m afraid you are.” She touched Lena’s cheek. “Which is why you’re here, if you recall. To find what you need, to make sense of som

ething senseless. Now, you’d better get started.”

“There are so many books, Marian. Can’t you just point us in the right direction?”

“Don’t look at me. Like I said, I don’t have the answers, just the books. Get going. We’re on the lunar clock down here, and you may lose track of time. Things aren’t exactly as they seem when you’re down below.”

I looked from Lena to Marian. I was afraid to let either one of them out of my sight. The Lunae Libri was more intimidating than I had imagined. Less like a library, and more like, well, catacombs. And The Book of Moons could be anywhere.

Lena and I faced the endless stacks, but neither one of us took even a single step.

“How are we going to find it? There must be a million books in here.”

“I have no idea. Maybe…” I knew what she was thinking.

“Should we try the locket?”

“Do you have it?” I nodded, and pulled the warm lump out of my jeans pocket. I handed Lena the torch.

“We need to see what happens. There has to be something else.” I unwrapped the locket and placed it on the round stone table in the center of the room. I saw a familiar look in Marian’s eyes, the look she and my mother shared when they dug up a particularly good find. “Do you want to see this?”

“More than you know.” Marian slowly took my hand, and I took Lena’s. I reached over, with my fingers intertwined with Lena’s, and touched the locket.

A blinding flash forced my eyes shut.

And then I could see the smoke and smell the fire, and we were gone—

Genevieve lifted the Book so she could read the words through the rain. She knew speaking the words would defy the Natural Laws. She could almost hear her mother’s voice willing her to stop—to think about the choice she was making.

But Genevieve couldn’t stop. She couldn’t lose Ethan.

She began to chant.

“CRUOR PECTORIS MEI, TUTELA TUA EST.

VITA VITAE MEAE, CORRIPIENS TUAM, CORRIPIENS MEAM.

CORPUS CORPORIS MEI, MEDULLA MENSQUE,

ANIMA ANIMAE MEAE, ANIMAM NOSTRAM CONECTE.

CRUOR PECTORIS MEI, LUNA MEA, AESTUS MEUS.

CRUOR PECTORIS MEI. FATUM MEUM, MEA SALUS.”

“Stop, child, ’fore it’s too late!” Ivy’s voice was frantic.

The rain poured down and lightning sliced through the smoke. Genevieve held her breath and waited. Nothing. She must have done it wrong. She squinted to read the words more clearly in the dark. She screamed them into the darkness, in the language she knew best.

“BLOOD OF MY HEART, PROTECTION IS THINE.

LIFE OF MY LIFE, TAKING YOURS, TAKING MINE.

BODY OF MY BODY, MARROW AND MIND,

SOUL OF MY SOUL, TO OUR SPIRIT BIND.