“In my experience, the only side Ridley’s ever on is her own.” John stepped over a broken statue of a praying angel, her hands cracked at the wrists. All the broken angels around here were starting to feel like a bad omen.
Link looked annoyed, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to like it when anyone but him criticized Ridley. I wondered if things could ever really be over between them.
He and John navigated around the broken caskets and tree limbs, reaching an enormous sinkhole just beyond the old Honeycutt crypt. I did my best to keep up, but they were Incubuses, so there was nothing I could do, short of Casting an Incubus-cloning spell.
But soon it didn’t matter, because we had nowhere left to go.
Abraham was waiting for us.
Either we had walked right into his trap or he had walked right into ours. It was almost time to find out.
Abraham Ravenwood was standing on the far side of the sinkhole. Wearing a long black coat and stovepipe hat and leaning against a splintered tree, he looked bored, as if this was an annoying errand.
The Book of Moons was tucked under his arm.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “He brought it,” I said quietly.
“We don’t have it yet,” Link said under his breath.
Wearing a black turtleneck and a leather jacket, Hunting stood behind his great-great-great-grandfather. He was blowing smoke rings at Ridley. She coughed, waving the smoke away from her red dress, and gave her uncle a dirty look.
There was something disturbing about seeing her dressed in red, standing a few feet away from two Blood Incubuses. I hoped John was wrong and Ridley really was on our side—for Link’s sake as much as my own.
We both loved her. And you couldn’t control who you loved, even if you wanted to. That had been Genevieve’s problem with Ethan Carter Wate. It had been Uncle Macon’s problem with Lila, Link’s with Ridley. Probably even Ridley’s with Link.
Love was how all these knots started to unravel in the first place.
“You brought it,” I called across to Abraham.
“And you’ve brought him.” Abraham’s eyes narrowed at the sight of John. “There’s my boy. I’ve been so worried.”
John tensed. “I’m not your boy. And you’ve never cared about me, so you can stop pretending.”
“That’s not true.” Abraham acted hurt. “I’ve put a great deal of energy into you.”
“Too much, if you ask me,” Hunting said.
“No one did,” Abraham snapped.
Hunting clenched his jaw and flicked his cigarette into the grass. He didn’t look pleased. Which meant he would probably take that anger out on someone who didn’t deserve it and didn’t expect it. We were all plausible candidates.
John looked disgusted. “You mean treating me like a slave and using me to do your dirty work? Thanks, but I’m not interested in the kind of energy you put into things.”
Abraham stepped forward, his black string tie blowing in the breeze. “I don’t care what interests you. You serve a purpose, and when you stop serving it, you won’t be useful to me anymore. I think we both know how I feel about things that aren’t of any use to me.” He smirked. “I watched Sarafine burn to death, and the only thing that bothered me was the ash on my jacket.”
He was telling the truth. I had watched my mother burn, too. Not that I thought of Sarafine that way. But hearing Abraham talk about her like that made me feel something, even if I didn’t know what.
Sympathy? Compassion?
Do I feel sorry for the woman who tried to kill me? Is that possible?
John had told me that Abraham hated Casters as much as Mortals. I hadn’t believed him until that moment. Abraham Ravenwood was cold, calculating, and evil. He really was the Devil, or the closest thing I’d ever met.
I watched as John raised his head high and called to Abraham. “Just give my friends the Book, and I’ll leave with you. That was the deal.”
Abraham laughed, the Book still safely tucked under his arm. “The terms have changed. I think I’ll keep it after all.” He nodded at Link. “And your new friend.”
Ridley stopped sucking on her lollipop. “You don’t want him. He’s worthless—trust me.” She was lying.
Abraham knew it, too. A vicious smile spread across his face. “As you wish. Then we can feed him to Hunting’s dogs. When we get home.”
There was a time when Link would’ve backed up, scared out of his mind. But that was before John bit him and his life changed. Before Ethan died and everything changed.
I watched Link standing next to John now. He wasn’t going anywhere, even if he was afraid. That Link was long gone.
John tried to step in front of him, but Link held out his arm. “I can defend myself.”
“Don’t be stupid,” John snapped. “You’re only a quarter Incubus. That makes you half as strong as me, without the Caster blood.”
“Boys.” Abraham snapped his fingers. “This is all very moving, but it’s time to get going. I have things to do and people to kill.”
John squared his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you unless you give them the Book. I’ve come into contact with some powerful Casters lately. I make my own choices now.”
John collected powers the way Abraham collected victims. Ridley’s Power of Persuasion, even some of my abilities as a Natural. Not to mention the ones he absorbed from all the other Casters who unknowingly touched him. Abraham had to be wondering whose power John had tapped into.
Still, I started to panic. Why hadn’t we taken John back down into the Tunnels to collect a few more? Who was I to think we could take on Abraham?
Hunting glanced at Abraham, and a flash of recognition passed between them—a secret they shared.
“Is that so?” Abraham dropped The Book of Moons at his feet. “Then why don’t you come over here and take it?”
John had to know it was some kind of trick, but he started walking anyway.
I wished Liv were here to see how brave he was. Then again, I was glad she wasn’t. Because I could barely stand to watch him take another step closer to the ancient Incubus, and I wasn’t the girl who loved him.
Abraham held out his hand and flicked his wrist, like he was turning a doorknob.
With that one motion, everything changed. Instantly, John grabbed his head like someone had just cracked it open from the inside, and dropped to his knees.
Abraham kept his arm in front of him, closing his fist slowly, and John jerked violently, screaming in pain.
“What the hell?” Link grabbed John’s arm and yanked him to his feet.
John could barely stand. He swayed, trying to regain his balance.
Hunting laughed. Ridley was still standing next to him, and I could see the lollipop shaking in her hand.
I tried to think of a Cast, anything that would stop Abraham, even for a second.
Abraham stepped closer, gathering up the bottom of his coat to keep it from dragging in the mud. “Did you think I would create something as powerful as you if I couldn’t control it?”
John froze, his green eyes fearful. He squinted hard, trying to fight the pain. “What are you talking about?”
“I think we both know,” Abraham said. “I made you, boy. Found the right combination—the parentage I needed—and created a new breed of Incubus.”
John staggered back, stunned. “That’s a lie. You found me when I was a kid.”
Abraham smiled. “That depends on your interpretation of the word found.”
“What are you saying?” John’s face was ashen.
“We took you. I did engineer you, after all.” Abraham dug around in his jacket pocket and removed a cigar. “Your parents had a few happy years together. It’s more than most of us get.”
“What happened to my parents?” John gritted his teeth. I could almost see the rage.
Abraham turned to Hunting, who lit the cigar with a silver lighter. “Answer the boy, Hunting.”
Hunting flipped the top of the lighter closed. He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, kid. They were juicy. And chewy. But I can’t remember the details.”
John lurched forward and ripped through the darkness.
One second he was there. The next, he was gone, sliding away in a ripple of air. He reappeared just inches in front of Abraham and wrapped his hand around the old Incubus’ throat. “I’m going to kill you, you sick son of a bitch.”
The tendons in John’s arm tightened, but his grip didn’t.
The muscles in his hand were tensing, his fingers obviously trying to close, but they wouldn’t. John grabbed his wrist with his other hand, trying to brace it.
Abraham laughed. “You can’t hurt me. I’m the architect of the design. Think I would build a weapon like you without a kill switch?”
Ridley stepped back, watching as John’s hand loosened against his will, his fingers opening as he tried to force them closed again with his other hand. It was impossible.
I couldn’t bear to watch. Abraham seemed more in control of John now than he had on the night of the Seventeenth Moon. Worse, John’s awareness didn’t seem to change the fact that he couldn’t control his body. Abraham was pulling the strings.
“You’re a monster,” John hissed, still holding his wrist inches from Abraham’s throat.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. You’ve caused me lots of problems, boy. You owe me.” Abraham smiled. “And I plan to take it out of your flesh.”
He twitched his hands again, and John rose off the ground further, clutching his own neck with his hands, strangling himself.
Abraham was trying to do more than make a point. “You have outlived your usefulness. All that work for nothing.”
John’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went limp.
“Don’t you need him?” Ridley shouted. “You said he was the ultimate weapon.”
“Unfortunately, he’s defective,” Abraham answered.
I noticed something move in my peripheral vision a moment before I heard his voice.
“One could say the same thing about you, Grandfather.” Uncle Macon stepped out from behind one of the crypts, his green eyes glowing in the darkness. “Put the boy down.”
Abraham laughed, though his expression was anything but amused. “Defective? That’s a compliment, coming from the little Incubus who wanted to be a Caster.”
Abraham’s grip on John loosened just enough for John to get some air. The Blood Incubus was focusing his anger on Uncle Macon now.
“I never wanted to be a Caster, but I’m glad to accept any fate that unburdens me from the Darkness you brought upon this family.” Uncle Macon pointed a hand at John, and a wave of energy flashed across the graveyard, the blast hitting John squarely.
John yanked his hands away from his neck as his body dropped to the ground.
Hunting started toward his brother, but Abraham stopped him, clapping dramatically. “Nicely done. That’s quite a party trick, son. Maybe next time you can light my cigar.” Abraham’s features settled in his familiar sneer. “Enough games. Let’s finish this.”