A Gatlin Wedding Page 3

  “That was a miscalculation,” Nox said, looking embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not the one who was Ripping. Don’t look at me.”

  “Thanks,” Ridley said, glaring.

  “Wait a minute,” Link said, sounding incredulous. “You mean to tell me you can Rip now?” Nobody else seemed to have picked up on it, but there it was, right in front of them. Whatever had been done to her, Ridley had some kind of Incubus blood now.

  Rid shrugged. “I can hold my own.”

  Nox looked away.

  It took a moment for the news to sink in.

  “If she can Rip, it means Silas has been experimenting with Incubus blood again,” John said. “And we all know how well that worked out for me.”

  “It also means Silas has been experimenting with Ridley’s blood again,” Liv pointed out. “And we all know how well that worked out for her.”

  And? What else can she do? What has Silas done to her, out there in California? Ethan shuddered.

  “Which means she’s still thick as thieves with Silas,” Ethan said, looking at Lena.

  Link nodded. “And so this whole little reunion we’re enjoying is probably a trap. She’s probably leading him straight to us.”

  “God. Paranoid much?” Ridley looked at Link, annoyed. “Are you finished, Sherlock?”

  Lena began, “I think what everyone is trying to say is—”

  “Oh my gawd, do Short Straw and his sidekicks actually need you to translate for them now?” Rid clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Because I can speak stupid.”

  “Yeah, you’re fluent all right.” Link snorted.

  “Better be. I learned it from you, Babe,” she shot right back.

  “Ridley,” Liv said, looking up from her notebook. “Let Lena finish.”

  “Why? So I can hear things I don’t care about and people who don’t matter?” Ridley sighed loudly.

  “Yes. Now shut your trap and let everyone talk,” Link said forcefully. “I know you’re not right in the head, but these are your friends, dumbbucket. They care about you, no matter what you say about them.”

  “Them?” She snorted. “Are you sure that’s what you mean, Shrinky Dink?”

  He turned red. “We all care, you little idiot.”

  She glared at him. “I’m sorry, could you step back? The Mortal stench is really starting to get to me.”

  “I don’t smell.” Link was even redder now.

  “The one who denied it supplied it,” Rid said.

  As she spoke, she held out her hand and the pile of ground sugar power and the white paper stem—the remnants of the lollipop John had crushed beneath his boot—streamed back up through the air to her fingers, re-forming again into the cherry lollipop it once was. She popped it into her mouth. “Now, where were we?”

  Everyone stared.

  That was new.

  Ethan could feel the familiar tug of Rid’s Persuasion, but like the rest of the people in the kitchen, he had long ago learned to ignore it—barring her more extreme displays. It was like having a mosquito bite you knew better than to scratch, because it was just going to get bigger and bigger if you did. And everyone who lived in Gatlin knew how to power through a mosquito bite or two, no matter how annoying they could be.

  Especially this one.

  “Amazing,” Liv said, scribbling. “Evolving… abilities…”

  Lena stared at her cousin. “The rest of you can go back to the party. I’ll handle this.”

  “Really? You’re going to handle me?” Ridley laughed.

  “First, you’re going to put everything back the way you found it. That gate. The fence. The party. Everything.”

  “What?”

  Gramma nodded approvingly. “That’s right. We clean up after ourselves. Like your mother and I always taught you.”

  “Of course. Do that.” Aunt Del looked relieved. “You’re done playing with the Mortals, now clean up.”

  Marian harrumphed.

  “Fine,” Ridley said, sucking on her lollipop. Ethan felt a wave of energy pass through the kitchen walls, radiating out into the yard surrounding the house. “They now think they’ve seen a slightly sleazy singing telegram involving a biker chick in red leather and a hot dude on a Harley.” She shrugged. “They’ll probably be talking about that longer than they would have the actual Rip. Just so you know.”

  Nox sighed. “Great.”

  “And the fence?” Ethan looked out the window. The fence and the gate were perfectly restored, only they were bright red. “Seriously?”

  “Ugh,” Ridley said, sticking her lollipop back into her mouth. “How can you live like this?”

  Ethan looked again, and now the wood was white. “That’s more like it.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Rid waved him off.

  Lena was relieved. “Now I’ll take Rid to see Macon. He’s going to want to talk to her, anyways.” She glared at her cousin. “Didn’t you know we’ve been looking for you, for months now?”

  Rid sighed. “I heard. I just didn’t care. I’ve been busy. I have—”

  “I know, we all know. Three million followers,” John interrupted.

  “Almost four now,” Rid said.

  “Ridley,” Nox said, giving her a strange look.

  “Let’s go tell Uncle Macon all about what you’ve been up to,” Lena said, soothingly.

  “Tell them,” Nox said, looking at Ridley. “Why we came. You’ve messed with them enough.”

  “Rude, rude, rude,” Ridley said. “Nobody ever appreciated me in Gat-dung. Don’t you start hassling me, Nox.” She stood up and pulled open the refrigerator. “Also, this food sucks. Things have really gone downhill since—”

  No.

  Ethan slammed the door before she could finish. The chocolate milk Rid was holding dropped to the floor and exploded across the wood.

  “Whoa, Psycho.” Rid looked at Ethan in disbelief. “I was going to say, since I left.”

  “Sure you were,” he said.

  She wagged her lollipop at him. “I’m not sure who you mistake me for, but I’m not Team Silas, little Mortal. You do know that, right?”

  “We don’t know who or what you are anymore, Rid,” Ethan answered, looking her in the eye.

  “If I wasn’t on your side, would we have come all this way to warn you that Silas is coming to crash your wedding?” Ridley was suddenly serious.

  “What?” Lena looked startled.

  “What are you saying, child?” Gramma was pale. Aunt Del grabbed the edge of the counter, but Marian’s expression was unreadable.

  Rid shrugged. “Or would I have bothered to tell you that Uncle Macon’s stupid little Bindings to protect this dung heap aren’t holding?”

  “That’s impossible,” Liv said, putting down her pen. “Those Bindings are some of his finest work. I watched him put them in place myself.”

  Rid ignored her. “Or would I have mentioned that an Incubus takedown of epic proportion is headed your way, all thanks to your not-quite-Incubus friend Wesley Lincoln?” She wiped chocolate milk off her hands and onto her pants.

  “Abraham Ravenwood got what was coming to him,” Link said, defensively.

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I don’t care,” Ridley said. “Not about you or them or any of it. But the Ravenwood side of my family might feel a little differently. What do you think, Cuz? Grammy-Gramms? Mom?”

  The air in the kitchen had gone ice cold, which Ethan knew was a reflection of how Lena was feeling.

  “We need Macon. Now.” Lena grabbed Link and Ethan by the hands. “Let’s take the short way.”

  John grabbed Liv and Marian.

  Nox grabbed Ridley—but Gramma grabbed her other arm just as quickly. “Not so fast,” Gramma said. “I’m sticking with you, Darling.”

  Ridley looked surprised.

  Then the universe Ripped open, and the kitchen was left with only rattling windows and a spreading puddle of chocolate milk.

  IV. Down the Aisle

 
“Are you absolutely certain of what you heard?” Macon paced in front of the great fireplace that occupied one side of his study in the Caster Tunnels.

  Ethan thought of it as his lair, really.

  Lena’s grandmother had vanished with Del and Liv and Marian into the Lunae Libri as soon as they’d all appeared in the Tunnels. The Bindings of Protection had to hold, and Ethan knew they’d search every Cast in the stacks before they gave up looking for something that would keep the perimeter of Gatlin—or at least the grounds of Ravenwood and the wedding—safe.

  Left on their own, Ethan and the others had gone to deliver Nox and Ridley to Macon—who could be found, like always, enjoying the cavernous darkness of his chambers beneath Ravenwood Manor, and the company of his enormous wolf of a dog, Boo Radley. Macon looked unsettled to see Ridley in her current violet-eyed haze, even though Lena had been warning him of her altered personality for months now. Macon said little as he listened, which was strange to Ethan—that the answers to the current situation escaped even the larger-than-life lord of Ravenwood Manor.

  “Silas is coming,” Nox repeated. He looked exhausted. “That’s what we heard. He wants Link. He knows about the wedding. He wants payback—to avenge Abraham Ravenwood’s death—and yeah, probably to flatten this whole town.”

  “What does that even mean? Because, no offense, but Gatlin’s been flattened a few times before,” Ethan said.

  “Well, not flattened. There was that one plague,” Link said. “All those lubbers.”

  “And the drought,” John pointed out.

  “Don’t forget all those coffins that came back up from His Garden of Perpetual Peace like a bad cheesesteak.” Link nodded. “That was pretty rank.”

  “And Sarafine,” Ethan said. “The night of Lena’s Claiming.” Macon winced at the mention of it.

  “Ah, the old Battle a Honey Hill.” Link sighed. “That was a trippy night at Greenbrier.”

  “Before my time,” John said. “But I caught a good fire or two.”

  “Ethan’s right. If someone thinks they’re actually going to take down Gatlin, good luck.” Link glared at Nox. “This town’s seen plenty a action.”

  Nox leaned closer, and Ethan could see even now how much the two Supernaturals hated each other. “I’m just here to deliver the message. You might want to pull out your little scissors again, get it? He’s coming for you.”

  Link practically growled.

  Nox’s eyes were dark. “Silas and his Blood Incubus thugs are definitely picking up where Abraham left off.”

  “Definitely,” Ridley said. She looked uncomfortable. Ethan understood. She hadn’t been home for a long time, and she wasn’t about to start bonding with her family now.

  Nox looked at her. “There. We said we’d tell them. Now we’ve told them. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Hello? Do I look like I want to be here?” Ridley sighed from where she was flopped on a brocade-covered chair. “Wait for it…”

  “Ridley,” Uncle Macon warned. “You’re not going anywhere until we finish this conversation.”

  “Boom.” She pointed at him. “And there you go. Like clockwork.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you can remember? Are you certain it’s absolutely everything?” Macon asked.

  “Of course.” Ridley sat up. Her hair was tousled, and she looked tired. “Silas isn’t my BFF, Uncle Macon. He’s not a big sharer. We ran in some common circles, and I heard what I heard.”

  “Yeah? That doesn’t sound suspicious,” Link said, looking at Ethan.

  “Why would we risk our own destruction just to screw with you?” Nox sounded incredulous.

  Link shrugged. “It happens.”

  “Only to morons like you,” Ridley said.

  “Takes one to know one,” Link said.

  “Guys,” John said.

  Link, Ridley—everyone—looked at him, almost startled, as if they had forgotten he was in the room.

  “Okay.” Rid sighed. “It’s not that complex. Silas isn’t interested in lying low anymore. He’s got a new strategy. Think of it as the less the merrier. And bonus: While he’s taking out Link, he’s also getting to test his hybrid Caster creations.”

  Uncle Macon stood at the fireplace grating, looking into the flames. “And the stronger those hybrids get, the more easily he’ll eventually get what he wants.”

  “Which is?” Ethan asked.

  “The end of humanity,” Macon said.

  “Bingo,” Ridley said.

  “So why did you come back?” Link said, looking at Ridley.

  “Maybe I thought I owed you that.”

  The words sounded more like a question than anything else.

  “We don’t know what his creatures are capable of, so we can’t plan for how Silas will attack.” Gramma leaned heavily on a stone table in the center of the Lunae Libri. The table was stacked high with books and scrolls and chests containing more of the same. Liv had disappeared with Marian into the deeper recesses of the library.

  “Yeah, it’s not just Link they want. Not anymore.” Ethan frowned.

  Lena shook her head. “Silas isn’t stupid. He’s seen how close we are. He knows he could attack any one of us and it would still be hurting Link.”

  “Whatever he tries, we need to be prepared to stop him,” Macon said.

  The Duchannes women went into full operation mode. Lena was translating Latin and Greek scrolls off the shelves as quickly as she could unroll them. Aunt Del was up to her ears in ancient parchment Casts. Gramma was sorting through a chest of even more ancient carved stone fragments.

  Looking for anything that would keep Silas away.

  Which, so far, was nothing.

  Macon leafed through his tenth book in as many minutes. “We can’t try to protect the entire town. If he’s planning to strike the wedding, we’re going to have to focus on key targets.”

  Marian appeared in the doorway with an armful of books, angled carefully so as to touch only her gloved fingers. “What are you saying? Listen to yourself. Key targets? Do you mean like Stonewall Jackson High and my library? The churches and the DAR? All those places are full of innocent people.”

  “Not quite all of them. We can let him have the DAR,” Macon said, turning the pages of another book. It was his longest-running joke.

  Liv appeared behind Marian, also in white-gloved hands, holding even more books and scrolls.

  “For god’s sake, Macon, they’re Mortals. They’re just people. They have no idea that any of this is about to happen. They think this weekend is a celebration.”

  “We all knew the risks. Something like this was bound to happen eventually.”

  “But not to so many innocent people,” Liv said, shaking her head.

  “It’s our watch, Macon. This is on us.” Marian was insistent.

  “No,” Link said, standing at the perimeter of the library stacks. “It’s on me. I took out Abraham. This is my problem.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Any one of us would have done exactly what you did. In fact, if you recall, ridding the earth of Abraham Ravenwood was exactly what we’d gone to the graveyard to do,” Macon said.

  “It’s true,” Ethan said.

  “But you didn’t do it. I did. And that’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I don’t have to tell you how long that could be.”

  “Or how short,” Macon added dryly.

  “Either way. It’s my rock, and I’ll carry it. Even if it’s a freaking boulder.”

  “Of course,” Lena said, looking at Link as if he’d just said something genius. “Your rock. The one you carry. That gives me an idea.”

  “Yeah? That’s a coincidence, because it gives me zero ideas,” Link said.

  Lena held up her hand, staring at the ring on her finger. It was the one they had all gotten last year, before they’d left Gatlin for New York and Massachusetts and the UK.

  Ethan held out his.

  Then Liv followed.

 
Then John.

  Then Link—who looked at the others and said, “Can someone tell me why we’re doing this?”

  Lena smiled. “We’re bound to one another, right? You carry us around with you wherever you go. We’re your burden. Your friends, the people you care about. We’re the rock.”

  “Yeah. Right. No. I don’t get it.” Link sighed.

  Lena’s mind was racing. Ethan could practically see her brain pulsing behind her eyes. “What happens when you carry a rock around with you all the time?”

  Link frowned. “Seriously. I wasn’t really talking about, you know, a real rock. It was like, a figure of speech. A metaphor or a smiley or something.”

  Lena nodded. “Simile, not smiley. And that was so disturbing we’re never going to speak of it again.”

  “Right,” Link said. “I still don’t get it.”

  “You get really strong,” Ethan said, suddenly. “That’s what happens when you carry a boulder around all the time.”

  “Exactly,” Liv said.

  “Only when those friends happen to be Casters, it’s not your arms that get really strong,” Lena continued.

  “It’s the bond,” Liv agreed.

  “And more than that,” Lena said.

  “It’s your powers?” Ethan looked confused.

  “And?” Lena asked.

  Nobody knew what she was saying now.

  She gave up. “And their powers. Silas might have crossbred the strongest hybrid Casters and Incubuses in two universes. But you’re forgetting this: So have we.”

  “You think the fact that we’re friends is going to save us from Silas?” Ethan asked.

  “Blood may be thicker than water, but what’s thicker than blood?” Lena pressed on.

  “I have no idea,” Link answered, scratching his head.

  “Well, plasma, if you want to get technical,” Liv said. “But that would depend on the relative platelet counts…”

  “More blood,” Lena said. “Thicker blood. We’re going to fight Silas’ hybrids with hybrids of our own.”

  “And who would those hybrids be?” Liv frowned.

  “Us.”

  Macon raised an eyebrow.