Beautiful Creatures (Caster Chronicles 1)

The circle responded, holding high their candles as they chanted. “Sextusdecima Luna, Sextusdecimo Anno, Illa Capietur.”

Lena answered them in English. Her candle flared up until the flames almost seemed like they would burn her face. “On the Sixteenth Moon, the Sixteenth Year, She will be Claimed.” Lena stood in the center of the circle, with her head high. The candlelight was cast across her face from all directions. Her own candle began to burn into a strange green flame.

What’s going on, L?

Don’t worry. This is just part of the Binding.

If this was just the Binding, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready for the Claiming.

Macon began the chant I remembered from Halloween. What had they called it?

“Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.

Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.

Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.

Blood of my blood, protection is thine!”

Lena went pale. A Sanguinis Circle. That was it. She held the candle high over her head, closing her eyes. The green flame erupted into a massive orange-red flame, exploding from her candle to every other candle in the circle, lighting them as well.

“Lena!” I shouted over the sound of the explosion, but she didn’t answer. The flame sprayed up into the darkness overhead, so high I realized there couldn’t be a roof, any ceiling at all in Ravenwood tonight. I threw my arm over my eyes as the fire turned hot and blinding. All I could think about was Halloween. What if it was happening all over again? I tried to remember what they were doing that night, to fight off Sarafine. What had they been chanting? What had Macon’s mother called it?

The Sanguinis. But I couldn’t remember the words, didn’t know the Latin, and for once I wished I had joined the Classics Club.

I heard a pounding on the front door, and in an instant, the flames were gone. The robes, the fire, the candles, the darkness and the light were gone. It all just vanished. Without missing a beat, they became a regular family, standing around a regular birthday cake. Singing.

What the—?

“—Happy birthday to you!” The last few notes of the song ended, as the pounding on the front door continued. A massive birthday cake, three tiers of pink, white, and silver, sat on the coffee table in the center of the parlor, along with a formal tea service and white linens. Lena blew out the candles, waving the smoke away from her face, where seconds before there had been billowing flame. Her family burst into applause. Back in my Jackson High sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like any other sixteen-year-old.

“That’s our girl!” Gramma put down her knitting and started to cut the cake, while Aunt Del scurried to pour the tea. Reece and Ryan carried in an enormous stack of presents while Macon sat in his Victorian wingback chair and poured himself and Barclay a scotch.

What’s going on, L? What just happened?

Someone’s at the door. They’re just being careful.

I can’t keep up with your family.

Have some cake. This is supposed to be a birthday party, remember?

The pounding on the door continued. Larkin looked up from his thick triangle of red velvet cake, Lena’s favorite. “Isn’t anyone goin’ to get the door?”

Macon brushed a crumb from his cashmere jacket, looking calmly at Larkin. “By all means, see who it is, Larkin.”

Macon looked at Lena and shook his head. She wouldn’t be answering the door today. Lena nodded and leaned back into Gramma. Smiling over cake like the doting granddaughter she really was. She patted the cushion next to her. Great. It was my turn to meet Gramma.

Then I heard a familiar voice at the door, and I knew I would rather face anyone’s gramma than what was waiting outside the door right now. Because it was Ridley and Link, Savannah and Emily and Eden and Charlotte, with the rest of their fan club, and the Jackson basketball team. None of them were wearing their daily uniform, Jackson Angels T-shirts. Then I remembered why. Emily had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. The Reenactment. I realized Lena and I had missed most of it already, and now we were going to fail history. By now, it was all over, except the evening campaign and the fireworks. Funny how an F would seem like a big deal on any other day.

“SURPRISE!”

Surprise didn’t even begin to describe it. Once again, I had allowed chaos and danger to find its way to Ravenwood. Everyone crowded into the front hall. Gramma waved from the couch. Macon sipped his scotch, composed, as always. It was only if you knew him that you knew he was about to lose it.

Actually, come to think of it, why had Larkin even let them in?

This can’t be happening.

The surprise party, I forgot all about it.