Beautiful Chaos (10 page)

“Right. Because now his bedroom is…” I looked at the door, trying to imagine how Ridley had massacred Macon’s old room. I hadn’t been in it since the day Lena and I broke up.

Lena shrugged. “He didn’t want to keep his old room. And he sleeps in his study in the Tunnels most of the time, anyway.”

“Good choice for Ridley’s room. Because she’s
not
the kind of girl who would sneak out a secret passageway in the middle of the night,” I said.

Lena paused, her hand on the doorway. “Ethan. She’s the least magical person in the house. She’s got more to be afraid of going down there than any of—”

Before she could finish her sentence, I heard an unmistakable sound. The sound of the sky ripping, and an Incubus slipping out of sight.

Traveling.

“Did you hear that?”

Lena frowned at me. “What?”

“It sounded like someone was ripping.”

“Uncle Macon doesn’t rip anymore. And Ravenwood is completely Bound. There’s no way any Incubus, no matter how powerful, could get in here.” She looked worried, though, even as she said the words.

“It must have been something else. Maybe Kitchen is experimenting again.” I touched her hand on the door, my breath catching. “Open up.”

Lena pushed, but nothing happened. She pushed again. “That’s weird. The handle’s jammed.”

“Let me try.” I threw my weight against the door. It didn’t budge, which was kind of humiliating, so I tried it again, even harder. “It’s not jammed. It’s—you know.”

“What?”

“Whatever the Latin is for using magic to lock your door.”

“You mean a Cast? That’s not possible. Ridley couldn’t use an
Obex
Cast, even if she found one in a book. They’re too difficult.”

“Are you kidding me? After the stunt she pulled with the cheer squad?”

Lena looked at the door, her green eye glowing and her gold eye darkening. Her black curls began to blow around her shoulders, and before I heard her speak the Cast, the door blew open with such force it went flying off the hinges and into Ridley’s bedroom. Which seemed like the Caster way of saying “Screw you.”

I flipped on the lights inside Ridley’s room.

Lena wrinkled her nose as I picked up a pink lollipop stuck to the long blond hairs wrapped around a giant hot roller. There was a mess of clothes and shoes and nail polish and makeup and candy—on every surface, in the sheets, hidden in the pink retro shag carpet.

“Make sure you put that back where you found it. She’ll have a fit if she finds out we were in here. She’s been really weird about her room lately.” Lena nudged an open bottle of nail polish that was oozing onto the dresser. “But there are no signs of Casting. No books or charms.”

I flipped back the pink carpet to reveal the smooth lines of the hidden Caster door in the floor.

“Nothing except—” Lena held up a nearly empty bag of Doritos. “Ridley hates Doritos. She likes sweet, not salty.”

I stared down into the darkness at the stairs I only half believed were there. “I’m looking at an invisible stairwell, and you’re telling me the chips are weird?”

Lena held up a second bag, a full one. “Pretty much. Yes.”

I held out my foot, feeling around until I found the solid footing in the air. “I used to like chocolate milk. Now it makes me sick. Does that mean I have magic powers, too?”

I stepped into the darkness before I could hear her answer.

At the base of the stairs that led into Macon’s private study, we could see him standing at a desk, staring at the pages of an enormous book. Lena took a step—

“Seven.” A girl’s voice.

We froze at the sound of the familiar voice. I put my hand on Lena’s arm.

Wait.

So we stood in the shadows of the passage, at the edge of the door. They hadn’t seen us.

“Seven what, Miss Durand?” Macon asked.

Liv appeared in the doorway, holding a stack of books. Her blond hair spilled over her favorite Pink Floyd T-shirt, her blue eyes catching the light. In the darkness of the underground, Liv looked like she was made of sunshine.

Marian’s former assistant, my former friend. But that wasn’t quite right, and we all knew it. She had felt like more than a friend. While Lena was gone, that had been one thing. But Lena wasn’t gone anymore, which left us where? Liv would always be my friend, even if she couldn’t be. She had helped me find my way back to Lena, and to the Great Barrier, the seat of both Dark and Light power. She had given up her future as a Keeper for me and Lena. We both knew we would always owe Liv for that.

There was more than one kind of way to be Bound to a person. I had learned that myself, the hard way.

Liv let the books drop onto the desk in front of Macon. Dust rose from the ancient bindings. “There are only five instances of mixed Caster bloodlines powerful enough to result in this combination. I’ve been cross-referencing every Caster family tree I can find on both sides of the Atlantic, including your own.”

Mixed supernatural blood. Ethan, they’re looking for John.

Lena could barely stand to Kelt it. Even her thoughts were quiet.

Macon was mumbling into his book. “Ah, yes. Well. All in the interest of science, of course.”

“Of course.” Liv opened her familiar red notebook.

“And? Have you found anything like him in any of the Kept family records? Anything that could explain the existence of our mysterious hybrid, the elusive John Breed?”

I guess you’re right.

Liv spread out two sheets of parchment that I recognized immediately. The Duchannes and Ravenwood Family Trees. “There are only four likely occurrences—at least, according to the Council of the Far Keep.”

The council of what?

Later, Ethan.

Liv was still talking. “One of which is Sarafine Duchannes’ parents: Emmaline Duchannes, a Light Caster, and your father, Silas Ravenwood, a Blood Incubus. Lena’s grandparents.” Liv looked up, her cheeks reddening.

Macon dismissed the possibility. “Emmaline is an Empath, a Caster gift certainly not capable of resulting in a hybrid Incubus that can walk in the daylight. And obviously our hybrid is too young to be a result of that particular union.”

Lena shuddered, and I squeezed her hand.

They’re looking at all those crazy family trees, L. None of it means anything.

Not yet.

Lena rested her head against my shoulder, and I leaned closer to the door to listen.

“That leaves three possible candidates for producing a Dark Caster-Incubus hybrid. There is no Light and Light pairing, of course, since there are no…”

“Light Incubuses, as I was in my previous form? That is correct. Incubuses are Dark by nature. I know that perhaps better than anyone, Miss Durand.” Liv closed her notebook, looking uncomfortable, but Macon waved her off. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Never took to human blood. I found it all a bit
distasteful.
”

Liv continued. “If John Breed was some sort of mixed-blood Supernatural, it’s not by accident. It’s unprecedented, unrecorded, and as far as Dr. Ashcroft’s Keeping archives date back, unKept. It’s as if the record of any such birth has been completely struck from the
Lunae Libri
altogether.”

“Which proves what we already suspected. This boy is more than just an Incubus who can walk in the sunlight. No one would go to this much trouble to hide his lineage otherwise.” Macon rubbed his head with one hand. His green eyes were red, and it occurred to me that I had no idea whether or not he slept now that he was a Caster. For the first time, it looked like he needed to. “Five pairings. That’s progress, Miss Durand. Well done.”

Liv was frustrated. I recognized the look. “Hardly. We still haven’t found the genetic match. Without that information, it will be impossible to determine John’s abilities. Or how he fits into all this.”

“A valid point. But we have to focus on what we do know. John Breed is important to Abraham, which means the boy has a significant role in whatever he is planning.”

Liv held out her arm, the dials of her strange-looking homemade watch spinning on her wrist. Her selenometer, which gave her the only answers she trusted. “Truthfully, sir, I don’t know
how much time we have to figure that out. I’ve never seen readings like these. I hate to say it—but it’s like the moon is about to come crashing down on Gatlin.”

Macon stood, clasping a heavy hand on her shoulder. I’d felt that pressure—a part of me could feel it now. “Never be afraid to speak the truth, Miss Durand. We’re a little past the point of pleasantries. We must simply press on. It’s all we can do.”

She straightened under his hand. “I’m not sure I know the protocol when facing the potential annihilation of the Mortal world.”

“I believe, dear girl, that’s entirely the point.”

“What?”

“Look at the facts. It appears that since the Claiming the Mortal world has been altered. Or, as you said yourself, the sky is falling. Hell on Earth, our charming Mrs. Lincoln might say. And the Caster world has been presented with a new species of Caster-Incubus we’ve never seen before. An Adam of sorts. Whatever purpose the hybrid boy serves, it’s not an accident. The timing is too perfect. It’s all part of a grand design—or, considering Abraham is undoubtedly involved, a grandiose design.”

Lena looked pale, and I grabbed her arm, propping her up next to me.

Let’s go.

She held her finger to her lips.

He’s the Adam?

L—

Ethan. If he’s the Adam…

Liv stared at Macon, her eyes wide. “You think Abraham somehow
engineered
this?”

Macon scoffed. “Hunting certainly doesn’t have the intellect
for this sort of endeavor, and Sarafine alone doesn’t have the power. The boy, however indeterminate his origin, is Lena’s age? A little older?”

I don’t want to be the Eve.

You’re not.

You don’t know that, Ethan. I think I am.

You’re not, L.

I pulled her into my arms, and I could feel the heat of her cheek through the thin cotton of my shirt.

I think I was supposed to be.

Macon continued, but he seemed farther and farther away with every word. “Unless John Breed was pulled out of some other realm, he evolved here in the Mortal or Caster world. Which necessitates more than a decade and a half of ruthless cunning, at which Abraham excels.” Macon fell silent.

“Are you saying John was born in a Caster laboratory? Like some kind of supernatural test-tube baby?”

“In broad terms, yes. Perhaps not so much born as
bred
, one assumes. Which would explain why he is so important to Abraham.” Macon paused. “That sort of dull wit I would expect from my brother, not Abraham. I’m disappointed.”

“John
Breed
,” Liv said slowly. “Oh my God. It was right there in front of us, all along.” Liv sunk onto the ottoman across from Macon’s desk.

I held Lena tighter. When her thoughts came, they were a whisper.

It’s sick. He’s sick.

I didn’t know if she meant John or Abraham, but it didn’t matter. She was right. It was all sick.