Beautiful Redemption (Caster Chronicles 4)

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.”