Beautiful Darkness

“Okay, so we've got a map. That's gotta be something, right, MJ?” Link's mood improved after Aunt Prue and Thelma disappeared down the path.

 

“Liv?” She didn't hear me. She was flipping pages in her notebook with one hand and tracing a pathway across the map with the other.

 

“Here's Charleston, and this must be Savannah. So if you assume the Arclight has been helping us find the southern pathway, toward the coast …”

 

“Why the coast?” I interrupted.

 

“Due south. As if we were following the Southern Star, remember?” Liv sat back, frustrated. “There are so many branching pathways. We're only a few hours from the Savannah Doorwell, but that could mean anything down here.” She was right. If time and physics didn't directly correspond above and below the ground, who was to say we weren't in China by now?

 

“Even if we knew where we were, it could take days to find it on this map. We don't have time.”

 

“Well, we'd better get started. It's all we've got.”

 

But it was something — something that made it feel like we might actually be able to find Lena. I wasn't sure whether it was because I believed the maps could get us there or because I thought I could.

 

It didn't matter, as long as I found Lena in time.

 

Good Lord willin’ and the creek don't rise.

 

 

 

 

 

6.19

 

 

 

 

 

Bad Girl

 

 

My optimism was short-lived. The more I thought about finding Lena, the more I thought about John. What if Liv was right, and Lena would never go back to being the girl I remembered? What if we were already too late? I thought about the swirling black designs on her hands.

 

I was still thinking about it when the words drifted into my mind. They were faint at first. For a second, I thought it was Lena's voice. But when I heard the familiar melody, I knew I was wrong.

 

Seventeen moons, seventeen years

 

 

 

Know the loss, stay the fears

 

 

 

Wait for him and he appears

 

 

 

Seventeen moons, seventeen tears …

 

 

 

 

 

My Shadowing Song. I tried to figure out what my mother was trying to tell me. You don't have much time. Her words rattled around in my mind. Wait for him and he appears…. Was she talking about Abraham?

 

If she was, what was I going to do?

 

I was so absorbed in the verse, I didn't realize Link was talking to me. “Did you hear that?”

 

“The song?”

 

“What song?” He signaled us to be quiet. He was talking about something else. It sounded like dry leaves crunching behind us, and the low whipping of the wind. But there wasn't even a breeze.

 

“I don't —” Liv began, but Link shut her down.

 

“Shh!”

 

Liv rolled her eyes. “Are all American guys as brave as the two of you?”

 

“I heard it, too.” I looked around, but there was nothing, not a single living thing. Lucille's ears perked up.

 

Everything happened so quickly it was impossible to follow. Because it wasn't a living thing I'd heard.

 

It was Hunting Ravenwood, Macon's brother — and his killer.

 

Hunting's menacing, inhuman smile was the first thing I saw. He materialized a few feet away from us, so quickly he was almost a blur. Another Incubus appeared, and another. They ripped out of nowhere, one after the next, like links in a chain. The chain tightened, and they formed a circle around us.

 

They were all Blood Incubuses, with the same black eyes and matching ivory canines, except for one. Larkin, Lena's cousin and Hunting's lackey, had a long brown snake curled around his neck. The snake had the same yellow eyes as Larkin.

 

He nodded at the snake slithering down his arm. “Copperheads. Nasty little bitches. You don't want to get bit by one of these. But then there are a lot of ways to get bitten.”

 

“I would have to agree.” Hunting laughed, baring his canines. A rabid-looking animal crouched behind him. It had the huge muzzle of a Saint Bernard, but instead of big, droopy eyes, it had sharp, yellow ones. The hair on its back bristled like a wolf's. Hunting had gotten himself a dog — or something.

 

Liv clung to my arm, her nails digging into my skin. She couldn't take her eyes off Hunting or his pet. I was pretty sure she had only seen a Blood Incubus in one of her Caster volumes. “That's a Packhound. They're trained to go for blood. Stay away from it.”

 

Hunting lit a cigarette. “Ah, Ethan, I see you've found yourself a Mortal girlfriend. It's about time. And I think this one's a real keeper.” He laughed at his own bad joke, exhaling wide smoke rings into the perfectly blue sky. “Almost makes me want to let you go.” The Packhound growled low in its throat. “Almost.”

 

“You — you can let us go,” Link stammered. “We won't tell anybody. We swear.” One of the Incubuses laughed. Hunting jerked his head around, and the Demon didn't utter another sound. It was obvious who was calling the shots.