My heart pounded in my ears. They were outside—Hunting and his Blood Pack.
Abraham turned back to face me, his black eyes shining. “Enough talk, boy. Where is John? I know my worthless grandson didn’t kill him. Where is Macon hiding him?”
There it was. Someone had finally said it. John was alive.
I knew it was true. I felt like I’d known all along. We had never found John’s body. All this time he had probably been in the Caster Tunnels, hanging out at some club like Exile, waiting.
The anger welled up inside me, and I could barely force the words out. “The last time I saw him, he was in the cave at the Great Barrier, helping you and Sarafine destroy the world.”
When he wasn’t busy running away with my girlfriend.
Abraham looked smug. “I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation, so let me enlighten you. The Mortal world—your world, including this pathetic little town—is being destroyed, thanks to Macon’s niece and her ridiculous behavior, not me.”
I fell back onto my bed as if Abraham had punched me. It felt like he did. “Lena did what she had to do. She Claimed herself.”
“She destroyed the Order, boy. And she made the wrong choice when she chose to walk away from us.”
“Why do you care? You don’t seem like you’re concerned about anyone but yourself.”
He laughed, once. “A good point. Although we find ourselves in a dangerous state, it does provide me with certain opportunities.”
Aside from John Breed, I couldn’t imagine what he meant, and I didn’t want to. But I tried not to let him see how scared I really was. “I don’t care if John has something to do with your opportunities. I told you, I don’t know where he is.”
Abraham watched me carefully, like a Sybil who could read every line in my face. “Imagine a crack that runs deeper than the Tunnels. A crack that runs into the Underground, where only the darkest of Demons dwell. Your girlfriend’s youthful rebelliousness and her gifts have created such a crack.” He paused, flipping casually through the World History textbook on my desk. “I am not young, but with age comes power. And I have gifts of my own. I can call Demons and creatures of Darkness, even without The Book of Moons. If you don’t tell me where John is, I’ll show you.” He smiled, in his own deranged way.
Why was John Breed so important to him? I remembered the way Macon and Liv had talked about John in Macon’s study. John was the key. The question was—to what?
“I told you—”
Abraham didn’t let me finish. He ripped, reappearing at the foot of my bed. I could see the hate in his black eyes. “Don’t lie to me, boy!”
Lucille hissed again, and I heard another rip.
I didn’t have time to see who it was.
Something heavy fell on top of me, slamming down onto the bed like a bag of bricks dropped from the ceiling. My head hit the wooden frame behind me, and I bit through my bottom lip. The sickening metallic taste of blood from the dream filled my mouth.
Over Lucille’s gnarled cries, I heard the sound of the hundred-year-old mahogany splintering beneath me. I felt an elbow jab me in the ribs, and I knew. A bag of bricks hadn’t dropped on me.
It was a person.
There was a loud crack as the bed frame broke and the mattress crashed to the floor. I tried to throw them off. But I was pinned.
Please don’t let it be Hunting.
An arm flew out in front of me, the way my mom’s always did when I was a kid and she hit the brakes of the car unexpectedly. “Dude, chill!”
I stopped fighting. “Link?”
“Who else would risk disintegratin’ into a million pieces to save your sorry ass?”
I almost laughed. Link had never Traveled before, and now I knew why. Ripping must be harder than it looked, and he sucked at it.
Abraham’s voice cut through the darkness. “Save him? You? I think it’s a little late for that.” Link almost jumped out of the broken pile of bed at the sound of Abraham’s voice. Before I could answer, my bedroom door flew open so hard it almost came off the hinges. I heard the click of the light switch, and black splotches blurred everything as my eyes adjusted to the light.
“Holy—”
“What the devil is goin’ on in here!” Amma was standing in the doorway, wearing the rose-patterned bathrobe I bought her for Mother’s Day, with her hair wrapped in rollers and her hand wrapped around her old wooden rolling pin.
“—hell,” Link whispered. I realized he was practically sitting in my lap.
But Amma didn’t notice. Her eyes zeroed in on Abraham Ravenwood.
She pointed the rolling pin at him, her eyes narrowing. She circled him like a wild animal, only I couldn’t tell who was the predator and who was the prey.
“What are you doin’ in this house?” Her voice was angry and low. If she was afraid, she sure didn’t show it.