“You mean, because the last book turned out so well? We don’t even know if there is a book.” I didn’t want to think about my dad and his books any more than I wanted to think about Ridley and Savannah Snow.
We were halfway down the hall before I realized we had stopped talking. The closer we got, the more I sensed Lena’s pace slowing. She didn’t mind going back down into the Tunnels. She just didn’t want me going down there.
Which had nothing to do with the actual Tunnels and everything to do with Macon’s favorite exchange student.
9.12
Adam and Eve
Lena stopped in front of a black lacquered door. A handmade flyer for the Holy Rollers—WHAT’S ROCK WITHOUT THE ROLL?—hung skewed to one side. She knocked on Ridley’s door. “Rid?”
“Why are we looking for Ridley?” I had seen enough of her today.
“We aren’t. There’s a shortcut to the Tunnels in her room. Uncle Macon’s secret passageway, remember?”
“Right. Because now his bedroom is…” I looked at the door, trying to imagine how Ridley had massacred Macon’s old room. I hadn’t been in it since the day Lena and I broke up.
Lena shrugged. “He didn’t want to keep his old room. And he sleeps in his study in the Tunnels most of the time, anyway.”
“Good choice for Ridley’s room. Because she’s not the kind of girl who would sneak out a secret passageway in the middle of the night,” I said.
Lena paused, her hand on the doorway. “Ethan. She’s the least magical person in the house. She’s got more to be afraid of going down there than any of—”
Before she could finish her sentence, I heard an unmistakable sound. The sound of the sky ripping, and an Incubus slipping out of sight.
Traveling.
“Did you hear that?”
Lena frowned at me. “What?”
“It sounded like someone was ripping.”
“Uncle Macon doesn’t rip anymore. And Ravenwood is completely Bound. There’s no way any Incubus, no matter how powerful, could get in here.” She looked worried, though, even as she said the words.
“It must have been something else. Maybe Kitchen is experimenting again.” I touched her hand on the door, my breath catching. “Open up.”
Lena pushed, but nothing happened. She pushed again. “That’s weird. The handle’s jammed.”
“Let me try.” I threw my weight against the door. It didn’t budge, which was kind of humiliating, so I tried it again, even harder. “It’s not jammed. It’s—you know.”
“What?”
“Whatever the Latin is for using magic to lock your door.”
“You mean a Cast? That’s not possible. Ridley couldn’t use an Obex Cast, even if she found one in a book. They’re too difficult.”
“Are you kidding me? After the stunt she pulled with the cheer squad?”
Lena looked at the door, her green eye glowing and her gold eye darkening. Her black curls began to blow around her shoulders, and before I heard her speak the Cast, the door blew open with such force it went flying off the hinges and into Ridley’s bedroom. Which seemed like the Caster way of saying “Screw you.”
I flipped on the lights inside Ridley’s room.
Lena wrinkled her nose as I picked up a pink lollipop stuck to the long blond hairs wrapped around a giant hot roller. There was a mess of clothes and shoes and nail polish and makeup and candy—on
every surface, in the sheets, hidden in the pink retro shag carpet.
“Make sure you put that back where you found it. She’ll have a fit if she finds out we were in here. She’s been really weird about her room lately.” Lena nudged an open bottle of nail polish that was oozing onto the dresser. “But there are no signs of Casting. No books or charms.”