Beautiful Darkness (Caster Chronicles 2)

“I said come over here.” Ridley inched her short skirt farther up her bruised thigh. I felt sorry for her. She wasn’t a Siren anymore, just a girl who looked like one.

“Why?” Link wasn’t catching on.

Ridley’s tongue was bright red as she gave her lollipop one last lick. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” For a second, I thought Link might play along, but that would only delay the inevitable.

“No, thanks.” He turned away, and it was obvious he felt guilty.

Ridley’s lip quivered. “Maybe it’s temporary, and my powers will come back.” She was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

Someone had to tell her. The sooner she faced reality, the sooner she would be able to move on. If she could. “I think they’re really gone, Ridley.”

She whipped around to face me, her voice shaky. “You don’t know that. Just because you went out with a Caster doesn’t mean you know anything.”

“I know Dark Casters have yellow eyes.”

I heard the breath catch in her throat. She grabbed the bottom of her filthy

tank top and yanked it up. Her skin was still smooth and golden, but the tattoo that had encircled her navel was gone. She ran her hands across her stomach, and then crumbled.

“It’s true. She really took my powers.” Ridley opened her fingers, letting the lollipop fall into the dirt. She didn’t make a sound, but the tears ran down her face in two silver lines.

Link walked over and held out his hand to pull her up. “That’s not true. You’re still pretty bad. I mean, hot. For a Mortal.”

Ridley jumped to her feet, hysterical. “You think this is funny? That losing my powers is like losing one of your stupid basketball games? They’re who I am, you idiot! Without them I’m nothing.” Black streaks ran down her cheeks. She was shaking.

Link picked up her lollipop out of the dirt. He opened the water bottle and doused it. “Give it some time, Rid. You’ll develop charms all your own. You’ll see.” He handed it back to her. Ridley stared back at him blankly.

Without looking away, she hurled the lollipop as far as she could.

6.20

Common Thread

I had barely slept. Link’s arm was swollen and purple. None of us were in any shape to trek through the muddy forest, but we didn’t have a choice.

“You guys okay? We should go.”

Link touched his arm and winced. “I’ve felt better. Like, I don’t know, every other day a my life.”

The gash on Liv’s face was already beginning to scab over. “I’ve felt worse, but that’s a long story, which involves Wembley Stadium, a bad trip on the tube, and far too many döner kebabs.”

I picked up my backpack, caked with mud. “Where’s Lucille?”

Link looked around. “Who knows? That cat’s always disappearin’. Now I know why your aunts kept her on a leash.”

I whistled into the trees, but there was no sign of her. “Lucille! She was here when we got up.”

“Don’t worry, man. She’ll find us. Cats have that sixth sense, you know?”

“She was probably tired of following us around, since we never get anywhere,” Ridley said. “That cat’s a whole lot smarter than we are.”

I lost track of their conversation after that. I was too busy listening to the one in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lena and what she’d done for me. Why had it taken me so long to see what was right in front of me?

I knew Lena had been punishing herself all this time. The self-imposed isolation, the morbid pictures of headstones taped to her walls, the Dark symbols in her notebook and all over her body, wearing her dead uncle’s clothes, even hanging out with Ridley and John—it was never about me. It was about Macon.

But I never realized I was an accomplice. Lena had a constant reminder of the crime she was trying herself for, over and over again. A constant reminder of what she lost.

Me.