He studied the view carefully, as if it would disappear the moment he looked away. “I love all my clubs.”
“Because they’re Dark?” She looked at him. Like the Siren in the photograph? The one you named the club after?
But she didn’t say it. Not yet.
A man like Nox Gates wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t come clean that easily. Not to a Siren he barely knew—and certainly not about his connection to another Siren.
Nox studied the view. “No. Because they’re home. Something I never had.”
Ridley smiled, almost involuntarily. “You and every other Dark Caster in the world.”
“Does it feel like home to you? New York?” He looked back at the city. “All this beauty?”
Ridley made a face. “Not so much our apartment. Or my job. Or the subway. Let’s see—yep, those are the parts I get to visit.” She laughed.
He didn’t. “There are others. Let me show you.”
This is it, she thought. “Show me what?”
“New York, the way a Siren is supposed to see it.”
Exactly. “A Siren? How would you know?”
He didn’t say anything.
Ridley shrugged. “You know, I think I’ve probably seen enough New York for a while.” Not too fast. Make him work for it.
“You haven’t seen anything.” He touched her hand.
She pulled it back, startled by the feeling of his skin on hers. Watch it.
He smiled. “One day. Just one. I’ll be a good boy, I promise. Then, if you still want me to, I’ll bring you back to your friends and demand that they forgive you.”
“You think they care what you think?” Her face clouded at the thought of what was going on back in their apartment. You think they’re my friends? She put down her glass.
“Of course they care what I think. Everyone does.” He smiled.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ridley said. “If anything, they’re scared of you.”
“Like I said.” He shrugged. “They care what I think. Does it really matter why?”
“It does,” Ridley said, and she realized as she said it that she meant it. “It’s taken me a long time to figure that out, but it does.”
Nox raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
Rid kept her eyes on the skyline in front of her. “It’s nice to have people care what you think and laugh at your jokes. And notice when you say things, and when you don’t.” She smiled at him ruefully. “At least, it was nice.”
Don’t get distracted, she told herself.
“Just one day?” Nox pressed again. “Let me show you.”
“One day is a long time.” Rid hesitated. “A Siren’s view of New York?”
He nodded.
“That’s it?” Just a day? Was that all it would take to unravel the mystery that was Lennox Gates? Wasn’t that what she wanted?
Ridley thought about the unanswered rings when she’d called the apartment earlier. Necro was hurt. What if they needed Ridley? What if there was something she could do?
It’s not like they want me back. It’s not like they’ll let me back. They won’t even pick up the phone. And at least this way I could get him to open up about the Siren in the photograph.
“One day. I promise.” Nox crossed his heart playfully.
“And no trying to trick me or game me into staying?” Ridley looked at him, crossing her arms. She’d made and lost a bet with him before. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “No house rules? No party tricks?”
“Nothing underhanded at all.”
War, she reminded herself. Answers. The Siren in the photograph. That’s why you’re doing this.
The way he smiled, she felt like she could trust him.
And the way she fell for his smile, she felt she couldn’t trust him at all.
As Ridley crawled into the massive circular bed that night, she stared at her phone. Still no calls. Not even Lena was picking up tonight.
No calls… and no friends.
Nothing.
Necro and Floyd and Sampson didn’t want to have anything to do with her.
They didn’t, and Link didn’t.
It was bound to happen. It had only been a matter of time. Ridley had always known it.
You couldn’t fight destiny. Not when destiny was just another door slammed in your face, whether you deserved it or not.
Not when destiny was just you sitting alone on the curb, whether you wanted to come inside or not.
Frustrated, Ridley pulled the covers around her.
But this isn’t just about me. Necro could be really sick. Black blood. That’s some bad mojo.
She had to try.
Even if no one cared, and even if no one wanted her to.
This time, Ridley let the phone ring over and over. Then she called again. And again. She counted the stars overhead until the ringing stopped and her cell phone ran out of power.
By then, she was asleep and dreaming of curbless streets and cracked stone walkways—of smiling mothers and endlessly open doors.
CHAPTER 26
Back in Black
Looks bad. Worse, even. You think there’s some kinda hex on her or somethin’?” Link was wide-eyed, staring at Necro as she lay on the bed. He looked horrified.
Lucille Ball, circling him, looked even more so.
Floyd scrambled to her feet to look at the wound. She nodded. “It looks way worse than yesterday.”
“Bigger. Blacker.” Sampson nodded. “A hex would be my bet.” He examined the wound more closely. “I’m guessing the blade that did this was Charmed. And that the cut isn’t what’s making her sick. The Cast is. All it would take would be a nick.”
He shrugged. Floyd and Link looked at each other.
“He’s got a point,” Link said. “Nec might not have noticed an itty-bitty cut. She probably would have noticed slittin’ her own throat, if it had looked like this when she first got it.”
“Either way, we can’t help her until we know what’s wrong with her,” said Floyd.
“But if she’s all hexed up, how are we goin’ to be able to figure it out?” Link glanced over at Sampson. He didn’t like the guy, and he didn’t understand him. But he was in the band, so as far as Link was concerned, he was one of them.
Wasn’t that how it worked?
“You got any ideas, Sammy?” Link asked the Darkborn. “If you do, speak up. ’Cause I got nothin’.”
Sampson’s eyes flickered from Necro to Link. “I don’t get involved with Caster business.”
Link w
as flabbergasted. “But she’s your friend.”
Sampson stared straight ahead. “Not really.”
Link shook his head. “What’s wrong with you, man?”
Sampson shrugged. “It’s the Darkborn way. We aren’t Casters.”
“Yeah, well, your way sucks.” Link was pretty clear on that point.
“You can say whatever you want, but I know you’re my friend,” Floyd said. “I know you’re Necro’s friend. You’ve been with us for too long, at too many clubs now—”
“Two. It’s been two clubs,” Sampson corrected her. He folded his arms, obstinate.
“It doesn’t matter. She’d do it for you, and so would I.” She glanced at Link. “And so would Link.”
Link looked at her. “That’s right. I’m here for you, man. And I’d do just about anythin’ if you were the one lyin’ on that bed.”
Sampson didn’t say anything.
Floyd nodded at Link.
He tried again. “Yeah, so. There’s that. And… you know… whenever this world is cruel to me, I got you to help me forgive.”
Sampson raised an eyebrow. “Says Queen. Now you’re just quoting song lyrics.”
Link clapped him on the back. “Awesome. You got it. And that, my main man, is why we’re in a band together.”
Silence.
Floyd nodded again. Well?
Link shrugged. I got nothin’.
Sampson sighed. “Fine. But don’t get me involved. You don’t owe me, and I don’t owe you. And we aren’t friends.”
“Fine.” Link held out his hand. “We aren’t friends. Let’s shake on it.”
Sampson ignored him and glanced back at Necro. Then he looked Floyd dead in the eye. “I don’t know how to help her. But I can tell you who did this to her.”
“Who?” Floyd swallowed.
“More like what,” Sampson said. “I might be immune to Incubus and Caster powers, but I can still feel them. Your powers make you all feel different, and I can sense it.”
“What are you talkin’ about?” Link frowned.
Sampson nodded at Floyd. “Floyd feels like a roller coaster. If I pick up something she’s touched, I feel sick to my stomach. Dizzy.”
“Gee, thanks. I love you, too, Frankenstein.”
“Link, you feel more like a bad rash.”