A Beautiful Evil (10 page)

“Probably.” He draped his arm over the back of the bench, and I found myself leaning against him. His head dipped and his breath fanned the side of my neck when he spoke. “I’m good. Right where I want to be.”

I was glad he couldn’t see my idiotic grin.

I
SAT ONCE AGAIN AT THE STUDY TABLE IN THE
N
OVEM’S
bizarre secret library. The old record player belted out another rousing song. “What are we listening to this time?” I asked the Keeper as he deposited another stack of materials for me to read.

“Vivaldi.
The Four Seasons.
The one playing now is the winter concerto. Are you finished with these?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The Keeper gathered the two scrolls and the small stack of clay tablets. I watched him walk down the aisle, the light reflecting off the tiny bronze plates that made up his head and neck.

After my classes were over for the day, I’d made a quick trip across Jackson Square to Café Du Monde for some beignets, and then I met up with Michel back at Presby, where he let me into the library to do more research. It was getting late, but I wanted to finish this new stack before I headed back to the GD.

I found a reference to an ancient Egyptian witch who untangled a curse placed on a man by the goddess Sekhmet. Every night he’d turn into a lion and devour his family. Every morning he’d awake as a man, his family alive, only to relive the nightmare all over again that night.

Poor guy, caught in some ancient, psycho version of
Groundhog Day
. I removed the scroll from beneath the translator and set it aside.

This was the second mention I’d found of a witch who could untangle a curse made by a god. It
was
possible. Now I just needed to find a present-day witch who could do the same for me. Easy, right?

The last item on the table was a round stone disk with hundreds of symbols set in a spiral pattern. I slid it under the glass and my entire body stilled as I saw the words “Athena,” “temple,” and “doorway” appear.

The thing was some kind of ancient manual for Athena’s High Priestess. It explained how to move through this world and into the goddess’s temple in Olympus so the priestesses could be initiated, bring offerings, and gain insight and instruction from Athena.

Athena’s blood, kept in a small alabaster jar, was passed down from one High Priestess to the next and was used to make four symbols that if connected made the shape of a doorway.

I read the disk at least ten times, committing it to memory, finally slumping back in the chair and letting out a long breath. I stared blankly ahead of me, completely stunned as the realization set in. I’d found a way into Athena’s realm.

Chills spread like lightning beneath my skin.

I needed three things to open the doorway as the High Priestesses had done. Athena’s blood, the symbols committed to memory, and virginity—because every priestess of Athena’s was a virgin. I had two of the three in the bag; now I just needed to figure out how to get some of Athena’s blood.

By the time I left the library, it was dark outside. As soon as I cleared the double doors, I sat in the hallway and drew the symbols in my notebook exactly as they were on the disk.

Once that was done, I hurried down the steps to the first floor, but the sound of steel ringing against steel had me altering my course. Curious, I followed the noise down a hallway and into the courtyard behind the main building, where a class practiced with blades on the lawn.

I stopped next to an iron bench and watched as ten students—my age and a bit older, if I had to guess—worked. There was one girl among them, dark-haired with a fierce look of concentration.

Bran glanced over his shoulder. I lifted my hand and he walked over. “You want in? The training would do you good.”

“What class is this?”

“Advanced Blades. Mostly college students. Mostly Ramseys.”

I studied them, knowing that they all must be related in some way and wondering what it would be like to have such a huge family. “Any of them belong to you?” I asked.

“They are distant relations, all but the girl there. Kieran. My daughter,” he said proudly. “Youngest in the class.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, keeping the compliment tempered. Bran’s ego was big enough. “How old is she?”

“Thirteen. She’d have your head separated from your body in under sixty seconds, and she could do that when she was ten.”

I laughed. “I’ll make sure to remember that. You don’t have any other spawn lurking around Presby for me to avoid, do you?”

He lifted an eyebrow at my choice of words. “No, it’s just her now.”

Bran sank into silence, watching the class go through their movements. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering at his meaning—if he had other children who had completed Presby and moved on or, worse, that Kieran was his only surviving child.

“Why are you here, Selkirk?”

“Just passing by. Doing some late reading.”

“In the library, I gather. I hope you think hard before doing anything stupid.”

I thought of the disk and swallowed. “I didn’t think you cared,” I joked, and then grew serious. “When I find a way to get inside Athena’s temple, I’m going. Would you try and stop me?”

He thought for a long time. “Every person has a quest in life. I would not stop you from yours. A word of advice, should you find a way in: Put your emotions aside and rely on your training. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Yeah. Think with my head, not with my heart.”

“Not quite. The heart is what makes a hero great. Think with your head, yes, but let your heart fill you with drive and purpose. Leave all the other crap—fears, worries—at home. Pairs!” Bran called to the group, and they broke off immediately into sparring partners. Steel against steel echoed again through the courtyard, rebounding off the buildings. “You’re not ready,” he continued. “You have little control over your power, and your knowledge of magic and fighting is embarrassing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You do have heart. And your ability is raw and powerful, so there is that. . . .”

“Stop,” I said flatly. “I can’t take the compliments. What would you do in my situation?”

“I’d make the impossible possible.”

I laughed. Of course he would.

He grinned.

“Seriously, though,” I prompted.

“I would do everything in me and more, Selkirk. There is power within great sacrifice, within noble deeds. There are moments . . . brief, shining moments when the impossible becomes possible. Never forget that.”

He stared at the group as I gaped at him.

Who knew Bran was so deep? He wasn’t just some super-jock, and I had a strong suspicion that he spoke from experience. “Okay,” I said at length, “one of these days I want your story.”

He snorted. “Only when you earn it, Selkirk.”

Now, that was something to work toward.

By the time I made it back to the GD, I was dragging my ass.

Those beignets had been delicious, but not exactly filling. It was long past dinnertime and I was starving. I made for the kitchen. There was some bread wrapped in a towel on the counter, so I ripped off a huge chunk and then spooned out some leftover red beans and rice into a bowl.

I sat alone at the kitchen table and ate.

“Hey.” Crank deposited herself across from me. “Where have you been?”

“Researching in the library,” I said with my mouth full.

“You find anything?”

“Might have. . . .”

“Ari found something in the library,” she told Dub as he came in rubbing his eyes and then yawning. He ignored us, opened the fridge, and seemed to stare at nothing for a long time before closing it and then sitting next to me at the table.

He scratched his head. “Fell asleep on the couch. Wondering where you were. . . .” He reached over and stole a piece of my bread.

“Stop eating my food,” I said as he reached for more. “Get your own.”

He sighed, laying his head on the table. “I can’t. I’m too lazy.”

Henri came in and slid into a chair. “So, the library, huh? What’d you find out?”

Sebastian followed a second later and leaned against the counter.

I shrugged, spooning another bite into my mouth. “I found another mention of a witch able to untangle a god’s curse.”

“That’s good, right?” Crank said hopefully. “That means we can find one and ask her to help you.”

“If that kind of witch still exists,” I said. “The two mentions I’ve found so far have been really old. Nothing recent at all.”

“I’ll ask my dad about it,” Sebastian offered.

“Thanks.” I concentrated on getting as many red beans on my spoon as I could. “I also found a stone disk that talked about priestesses going back and forth between our world and Athena’s temple. There might be a way to open a doorway ourselves.” I gave them a wry smile. “All we need is some of Athena’s blood.”

Henri snorted. “Sure. Simple. Let’s add world peace and the discovery of life on Mars while we’re at it.”

I made a face at him.

“Well, since we’re now on to things that will
never
happen,” Dub said, leaning back in his chair and linking his hands behind his head, “let’s add getting Henri to take a bath and cut his hair, and Ms. Morgan falling in love with him.”

Crank giggled. “World peace might be easier.”

Sebastian’s quiet grin caught my eye and I smiled. Henri turned beet red and jumped up, sputtering. I laughed.

“Blow me, Dub,” Henri spat, storming out of the room.

“Another thing that will never happen, Henri!” Dub called as Henri’s angry footsteps thudded over the hardwood floors. The front door opened and then slammed shut.

Poor Henri. He was so in love with Ms. Morgan, the young woman who went around the GD bringing food to the kids and teaching them to read if they wanted to learn. She was, apparently, an angel. And here in the house, she was definitely Henri’s Achilles’ heel. No one felt bad about using it against him, either, because most of the time Henri deserved it. We all gave as good as we got. And in the end, we didn’t hold grudges. We were a weird sort of family.

After I finished eating, I talked a bit with the others, cleaned up my dishes, and then went upstairs.

I sat on top of my sleeping bag and pulled out my notebook to study the symbols and wonder how in the hell I was going to get Athena’s blood.

A soft knock sounded. I looked up to see Sebastian in the open doorway. “Want some company?”

“Sure.”

He sat down next to me, his back against the wall, with only an inch between our shoulders. “What’s that?”

“The symbols Athena’s High Priestess used to open the doorway.”

“Made in her blood, I take it.”

“Yeah, a lot of good that does us.”

I hated getting this close and then hitting a brick wall; it was frustrating as hell. How long would it take to rescue Violet and my father? And how long did they have before Athena did something irrevocable?

Sebastian slipped his hand in mine. Our fingers linked and unlinked. I liked touching him, feeling his warm skin, being connected like this. I glanced over and smiled miserably.

“What?” he asked.

His thumb made lazy strokes along the side of my hand. “You know what happens when I turn twenty-one. You know what might happen when I go after Violet and my dad.” Part of me wanted to tell him to save himself the trouble of getting involved with me.

He dipped his head in agreement or in understanding, I couldn’t tell which. And I couldn’t help but think of Josephine’s words and what exactly drew him to me. Was it me? Or was it the challenge, the rebellion, the danger involved, like she’d said?

I stared down at our hands as the silence between us stretched.

“Ari.” His tone dropped low and intimate with those two syllables.

If I looked at him, he’d kiss me. I wanted that so much and yet . . .

My hand squeezed his tightly. The room grew warm. Or maybe that was just me. I swallowed and glanced up at him. Our eyes met.

The door crashed open.

Henri stood there out of breath, Dub and Crank behind him. “The Novem heirs . . . at the Saenger . . . their Mardi Gras party.” He drew in a deep breath. “They caught one of Athena’s minions.”

Unease shot beneath my skin. I’d had firsthand encounters with those creatures, and the memories were still fresh. But this . . . this could be the break I needed. I jumped up and started grabbing my weapons.

“They’ve got it in the theater?” Sebastian asked as I strapped on my blade and shoved my 9mm into the waistband of my pants. Henri nodded. Sebastian cursed softly. “Idiots.”

I pulled on my jacket, then twisted the length of my hair, tied it into a knot, and secured it with two wooden hair sticks. “This is the party Gabriel was telling me about?” I finished with my hair and jerked on my boots.

“Yeah, they have it every year. Their own ‘ball.’ No rules. No parents.”

“I thought the ruins were too dangerous.”

“The Saenger is on the outskirts, like Charity Hospital. Not inside the ruins but not restored, either.”

I hurried out of the room, trailing behind the others down the stairs, adrenaline starting to pump my heart faster. If we could get to this creature, get it to tell us where the gate was . . .

Crank stood with Henri and Dub at the bottom of the stairs. She was as white as a sheet, her eyes wide and unfocused. I slowed on the steps.

The ruins held all of Crank’s fears. Sebastian had found her there, sitting next to the dead body of her brother, who resembled Sebastian in age and coloring. She’d been in shock. She’d thought Sebastian was her brother, and she followed him out of the ruins and never looked back.

He never saw any need to correct her or to explain the truth.

I was of the mind that when she was ready, she’d face it. But right now, from the look on her face, there was no way in hell she was going back in there. Crank might be blocking what had happened to her brother, but she sure as hell knew what lurked in the ruins.

I went the rest of the way down, zipping up my jacket. “Dub, why don’t you and Crank stay here? This shouldn’t take us long.”