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ForNox&Floyd,becauseitisn’teasylovingsomeonewhodoesn’tbelongto

you.Andforourreaders,wholovethemallthesame.

Thedepthofdarknesstowhich

youcandescendandstillliveisanexact

measureoftheheighttowhichyoucanaspireto

reach.

—PLINYTHEELDER

BEFORE Link

Love is ten kinds a crazy,right?

Especiallywhenyoumeetthepersonyouwanttospendthe rest of your life with

when you’re still in highschool?Thegirlwhoisgonnaelbow her way into morechapters of yourautobiography than yourfolks,yourcar,andyourbestfriend? The one who’s gotSatan on her speed dial, atleast accordin’ to all theparents in the StonewallJacksonPTA.

RidleyDuchannesiseverymother’s nightmare—and a

whole different kindanightmare for their sons. Letme put it to you thisway: Ifyoucangetaway,run.Don’twalk. Because once you’reexposed, you’ll never get aSirenouttayourhead.

If they ever make avaccine for RidleyDuchannes, I’ll be first inline.

But once you’ve beenexposed,thingsgetalotmore

complicated.Rid’s like thosekiller viruses they’re alwaystalkin’ about on theDiscovery Channel. Shechanges everything—includingyou.

What I’m tryin’ to say is,it’s too late for me. I’mheaded down a one-waystreet,with no stoplights andnobrakes.Thecraziestpartisthat I don’t evenwanna turnback, and you wouldn’t,

either. You don’t need aCaster mood ring to tell youthat.

Because there are threekindsofgirlsintheworld.

Goodgirls.Badgirls.AndRidleyDuchannes.Rid’sinacategoryallher

own—and trust me, she’searned it.She’ll let youpeekin the window, right beforeshe slams the door in your

face. She does what shewants, says what she wants,and lovesick guys like mestillwritesongsabouther.

Sure, she scammed meinto comin’ to New Yorkwith her and joinin’ a DarkCaster band. She evenpretended we were goin’there tomake allmy dreamscome true, instead a settlingher debt with Lennox Gates.Not every girl bets her

boyfriend’sfutureinaCastercard game, that’s for sure.LikeIsaid,tenkindsacrazy.

And the part that’s evencrazier?Howmuch your lifefeelslikeit’soverwhenshe’snot around to wreck itanymore.

But I’m gettin’ ahead ofmyself.

Itallstartedwithafire.

CHAPTER1:NOX

RingofFire

Noxwokeuponthefloorin

thebackoftheSUV.Thelastthingherememberedwasthecar driving away from whatwas left of his clubSirene…before Silas’ thugs startedbeating on him and heblackedout.

Notthatitmattered.Between all the smoke

he’d inhaled inside theburning club and the twoDarkCasterskickingthecrapout of him, he wasn’t sure

how much more he couldtake.Mortalsweren’ttheonlyoneswhohadtheirlimits.

The car rolled to a stop,and a moment later, thesunlight blinded Nox as thedriveropenedthedoor.

Silas Ravenwood climbedout and stood over him,smoking a cigar. “I’d like tosay it’s been fun, kid. Butmostly, you’ve been a hugewasteofmytime.”Heflicked

his cigar atNox,missing hisface by just inches. “And awasteofaCaster.NotthatI’dexpect much more from thesonofawhore.”

“Good one. Never heardthatonebefore.”

Silas punched him in theface,sendingasprayofbloodacrosshischeekbone.

Noxclenchedhisfists,buthedidn’tmove.Therewasnopoint anymore. Ridley was

safelygone,andhewasgoingtotakehisbeatinglikeaman.Hehadknown thiswouldbecoming when he set fire toSirene instead of deliveringRidley and the quarterIncubus to Silas Ravenwoodaspromised.

But I’ll kill you one day,Silas. I swear to God. ThenyoucanrotintheOtherworldwithAbraham.

Silas stood in the shadow

of the alley. “See you in thenextlife,kid.It’ssureashellyourlastdayinthisone.”Heslammed the door, and thedriver pulled away from thecurb.

Once Silas was gone, thereal beatings started. Enoughblows to the head, and Noxbarely remembered his ownname.Evenworse,hehadnoideawhere hewas, orwheretheyweretakinghim.

The river was his bestguess.Maybethey’dtosshiminlikeasackofkittens.

I’dbeluckytogetoffthateasy.

Then the SUV stopped ataredlight.

Noxcouldseethecloudofsmoke above the club in thedistance.Hewas still staringatthesmoke,dazed,whentheside window next to himshattered.

A hand the size of adinner plate plunged throughtheglass.

Sampson dragged one ofSilas’ men out through thewindow and unlocked thedoor before the driver evenrealizedwhatwashappening.Insteadofhittingthegas, theidiot came out and tried totakeonclosetosevenfeetofangryDarkborn.

Badmove,bigguy.

Silas’ other lackey wasstillinthebackwithNox,andhe jumped out to help.Sampsonhurledhimheadfirstintoa sign, leaving theguy’sface almost as cut up asSampson’s hand. Noxcrawled out of the car andstumbled to his feet, but thefight was already over. ThedriverandoneofSilas’thugswere knocked out cold, andSampson finished off the

second guy, who wasbleedingunder the sign,withonehardstompfromhissizefifteenRedWings.

The Darkborn grabbedNox by the arm and shovedhimintothepassengerseatofthe SUV. “You’re welcome.Nowgetyourassinthecar.”

“Sam,lookatyourhand.”Nox could barely get thewords out, but he pointed atthegashesslicingthroughhis

friend’s skin and the bloodrunningdownhisarm.

Sampson yanked hissleeveless T-shirt over hishead and tugged down therippedSexPistolsonehewaswearingunderneath.“Wrapitaround my fingers, but nottoo tight. I’ll take care of it.Afterwegetoutofhere.”

“Ioweyouone,”Noxsaidashepicked the sliversofglassoutofSampson’shandwithapair of tweezers. He had somuch gauze stuffed up hisbloody nose that he wasn’tsure if Sampson couldunderstand what he wassaying.

Afterthey’dditchedSilas’men,Noxhadboughta first-aid kit from the nearestDuaneReadedrugstore.Now

they were parked in a seedylong-term lot near PennStation, and it was the bestNoxhadfeltallday.Hecouldalmostseeoutofoneeye,andSilas’ thugs hadn’t knockedoutanyofhisteeth.

It’sthelittlethings.“One?” Sampson winced

asNoxpulledoutabigpieceof glass. “You oweme threeor four by now, boss,” thehugeDarkbornsaid.

“You don’t have to callmethatanymore.Theclubisgone, and opening anotherone would be like sendingSilasaninvitationtokillme.”

“You mean anotherinvitation?” Sampson didn’tsmile.

Nox ignored him, tossinga piece of glass on thedashboard. “So I hope youdidn’t risk your life for ajob.”

Sampson’s jaw tightened.“Thereareothercities.Andifyou think I saved your assand stole one of SilasRavenwood’scarsbecauseofsome crappy job, you don’tknowmeverywell.”

Nox felt like a jerk.“Sorry,Sam.”

“Forget it. You’re justlucky those guys didn’t killyoubeforeIgotthere.”

Nox knew Sampson was

right,buthedidn’tfeellucky.Alive was different fromlucky.Aguyhadtobeprettyunlucky to lose the only girlhe’devercaredabout.

Nox tipped the bottle ofperoxide over Sampson’sgnarledhand.“I think it’sallout.”

“Just wrap it up,”Sampson said. “Darkbornshealprettyfast.”

Nox wound a whole roll

of gauze around his friend’shand until it looked like aprizefighter’s.

Sampson pointed at hisface. “You better clean outthatcutonyourcheek, stitchit up. Pretty boys don’t looksoprettywithscars.”

“Yeah?”Noxflippedopenthe mirror on the visor andcringed.He looked likecrap.Silas’ punch had left a gashacross his cheek. “I don’t

know,IthinkIlookgood.Allthingsconsidered.”

“Good for a hamburger,maybe.Arareone.Nowsewthat thing shut.” Sampsonscrewedthetopoffabottleofrubbing alcohol. “You’re outof peroxide. Time to manup.”

Noxfoundaneedleinthefirst-aid kit and pouredalcohol all over it. He waslookingforwardtothepain.

But themomentSampsonflicked on a lighter and Noxsaw the flame, he feltsomething else. The alcoholstung Nox’s skin, and theworldfadedaway.…

ThesightofaflametriggeredNox’s Sight, and the visionhithimallatonce.

Thefire…

Ridley’sscreams…Thefear.This time he heard the

impact.Metalcrushing.Brakessquealing.It was the last sound that

hithimlikeakickinthegut.A song—“Stairway toHeaven.”

Noxhadseenhintsofthisbefore in his visions, but thedetails had never been clear

enough.Ithadalwaysbeenavague future. But it hadbecomeareality.

This was the outcomehe’dbeendesperate toavoid.If only he’d put the piecestogethersooner.

Sohehadn’tsavedRidleyfrom dying in a fire. He’dsaved her from dying in oneparticular fire—the one atSirene—onlytoletherdie inanother, the one at the car

wreck.He’d done everythinghe could to keep her frommeeting the fate he’d seenlaidoutforherinhisdreams,andhehadstillfailed.

I gave up too easily. Ishouldn’t have let her leavewith that idiot hybrid. Ishould’veaskedhertochooseme.

He’dsacrificedeverythingto protect Ridley—his club,hissafety,evenhisheart.And

it had been pointless. Hehadn’t protected her fromanything.

Then I pushed her rightintoanotherguy’sarms.

I thoughthecouldprotecther. I thought he was betterforher.Safer.

Who’stheidiotnow?“What’s wrong, Nox?”

Sampsonasked.“Everything.” Nox could

barely move his jaw, but he

forced the words outsomehow. “She’s in trouble,Sam.We’vegottago.Now.”

Finding the location of thecrash was the easy part; inNox’svision,theflameswerealready melting the roadsigns, which meant he’dgottenagoodlookatthemintheprocess.“Hurry,Sam.We

don’thavemuchtime.”What ifwe’realready too

late?Noxthought.Nox stared out the

window in a daze, trying toblotouttheimagesofthefireand the sound of Ridley’sscreams. He pressed againsthis stitches, trying to feel thepain. At least his paindistractedhimfromhers.

She’snotdead.I’dknow.Iwould’vefeltit.

Right?Hepressedharder.Sampson didn’t say a

word, but the speedometerincheduppastninety,andhecovered a hundred miles inlessthananhour.

By the time Nox spottedthe cloudofblack smoke,hewas practically jumping outof his skin. The wind blewthe dirty air through theSUV’s broken window as

they approached the flashinglights—twopolicecars,afireengine, andanambulanceonthe shoulder of the highway—behind a perimeter oforange cones and flares.Oneofthecopsstoodintheroad,waving cars past the crashsite.Trafficslowedasdriversrubbernecked while passingthewreckage.

Nox scanned the area forany sign of Ridley or a blue

andwhitemedicalexaminer’svan.

It’snothere.Notyet.Sampson shook his head.

“Itlooksbad.”Up close, it looked even

worse. What was left ofLink’s piece-of-crap car wascrushed like a tin can, andfirefighterswerehosingdownthe half-melted body of theBeater.

As Sampson guided the

SUV toward the shoulder,Nox jumped out and boltedfor the ambulance. He heldhisbreathwhenheglancedatthe wreckage. No bodies orbody bags. Just a lot ofcharredandbanged-upmetal.Smoldering upholstery.Shatteredglass.

Whereisshe?Two paramedics were

standing around behind theambulance.

“Issheokay?”Noxasked,outofbreath.

Oneof them lookedupathim,confused.“Excuseme?”

“Thegirlinthecar.Issheokay?”Noxrepeated.

The paramedicsexchanged a strange look.“Therewasnoone in thecarwhen we got here. It was ahit-and-run. The policechecked the area, but theycouldn’t find any sign of the

driver. Do you know whosecarthisis?”

“Yeah. It belongs to thisguy we know,” Nox said asSampsoncaughtupwithhim.

One of the paramedicsstepped back at the sight ofthe Darkborn. It waseveryone’s reaction toSampson. At over six footfive, he looked like alinebacker.

“The police are trying to

figure out what happened tothe driver,” the paramedicsaid. “They’ll probably wanttotalktoyouguys.”Hetooka closer look at Nox. “Whathappenedtoyourface?”

Nox stiffened. “I got in afight.”

The paramedic looked athimskeptically.

“More than one,” Noxadded. “What are you, mymother?”

The paramedic glancedoveratthenearestpolicecar.“Waithere.”

The moment the guyturned his back on them,Sampson shoved Nox in thedirection of the SUV. “Weneed to bail. As much as Idon’tlikeMortals,Ihatecopsevenmore.”

Nox agreed, and afterseeing the wreckage, part ofhim was relieved Ridley

wasn’tthere.She’s not dead. There

wouldbeabody.But another part of him

hadabadfeeling.Don’t fool yourself.

Nobody could walk awayfrom an accident like that.TheBeaterlookslikeaburntpretzel.

Lennox Gates’ feelingswere never simple when itcame to Ridley Duchannes.

There was no reason toexpect them to be any lesscomplex now. He climbedback into the car andslammed thedoor. “Weneedto figure out where she is.Fast.”

“I’llworkon thatas soonas I get us out of here.”SampsonthrewtheSUVintoreverse,guidedthecarofftheshoulder of the road, andflipped a U-turn. He waited

until the flashing lights wereout of sight before hehit thegas.

“Relax. It’s not a high-speed chase.” Nox grabbedthedoor.

The Darkborn glanced atthe rearview mirror. “Notyet.”

“We haven’t doneanything wrong,” Nox said,though he didn’t soundconvinced.

“Yeah? That’s not how itlooks.” Sampson kept hiseyesontheroad.“Myhandisbleeding. The window isshattered. And you look likeyoulostacagefight.”

“Think it’s possible shewalked away from thecrash?” Nox asked, hatinghow desperate he sounded.He didn’t want to say thewordsoutloud.

She’salive.Shehastobe.

“I don’t know.” Sampsonseemed doubtful. “The backof the car was crushed.” Heglanced at Nox. “But yeah,anything’spossible.”

As Sampson turned backonto the highway, Noxnoticedsomethingonthesideoftheroad.Somethingsmall,andfurry,andoutofplace.

Ananimal.Acat.Lucille Ball. She was

sitting on the shoulder, as ifshewaswaitingforthem.

“Pull over. That’s Link’scat.”

“Iwonderhowshegotallthe way out here.” Sampsonstopped the car a few feetawayfromLucille.

The cat didn’tmove untilthey both got out. Then shetrottedoffintothetrees.

Nox took off after her. “Ithink she wants us to follow

her.”Sampson shook his head.

“It looks more like she’srunningawayfromus.”

“But toward what?” Noxasked.RidleyhadtoldNoxastory about how Lucille hadpractically led Rid and herfriends to her cousin Lenawhen she was missing once.Hehadnoideahowmuchofit was true, but that cat wasdefinitelydifferent.

Lucille scampered ahead,stopping everynowand thento make sure they were stillbehind her. Nox wasn’t thatinterested in chasing mangycats through the bushes, buthefollowedheranyway.

If that stupid cat was inthecarwiththem…shecouldbeleadingustoRid.

Noxwasn’t so surewhenthe cat led them through acluster of trees and he saw

Linkslumpedagainsta trunkaheadofthem.Theridiculousspiked blond hair andthreadbare Black Sabbath T-shirt were unmistakable.Above Link, the brancheswerecrackedandbrokenasifhe’d hit every one of thembefore he finally made it totheground.

Headfirst,knowinghim.“What are you doing out

here, Link?” Sampson asked

as they made their waythroughthebrush.

Link barely moved. Hisskinwassmudgedwithblacksmoke and ash, and one sideofhisshirtwassingedabovethe burns running down hisarm.

Nox leaned closer andgrabbed a handful of Link’srippedshirt.“Hey.Wakeup.”

Confused didn’t begin todescribe the expression on

Link’s face. He opened andclosed his eyes, shaking hishead at the sight of Nox.“Aw, great. I’m in Hell.Mymomwasright.”

“You’re not in Hell.You’re in New Jersey.” Noxsquatted in front of him.“Where’sRidley?”

Linkjerkedhisheadupatthe mention of her name.“Wait. You don’t knowwheresheis,either?”

Nox stiffened. It was themillion-dollar question, andLink didn’t have the answeranymorethanhedid.

“We were hoping youknew,”Sampsonsaid.

Link rubbed his eyes,wincing as he lifted his arm.“It all happened so fast.‘Stairway to Heaven’ cameon the radio. That’s all Iremember, until this blacktruck ran a red light and

plowedrightintotheBeater.”His face clouded over as herealizedwhat hewas saying.“Aw,man.TheBeater.”

“Mangled,” Nox said,withashredofsatisfaction.

Sampson nodded. “Youdon’twanttoknow.”

Link pressed his handsagainst his temples. “Thedriver didn’t even try toswerveoutoftheway.Itwaslike he was headin’ right for

us.” He rubbed his eyes likehe was fighting the worstheadache of his life. “Theonly thing I remember afterthat was the sound of metalcrunchin’ and Ridleyscreamin’. There was somuch smoke I couldn’t seeher. I kept callin’ her name,but she didn’t answer. ThentheBeatercaughtonfire.”

SampsonexaminedLink’seyes.“Doyourememberhow

you got here? You’re prettyfar from the crash site. Idoubtyouwalked.”

Linksquinted,asifhewastrying to piece everythingtogetherinhismind.“Ididn’twalk.IRipped.”

“And you didn’t takeRidley with you?” Noxsnapped. He didn’t bother tohidetherageinhisvoice.

Why did she leave withthisclowninthefirstplace?

Link shook his head. “Itwasn’tlikethat.Ireachedoutforher,butshewasn’t in thepassenger seat. The fire keptgettin’ bigger, and then myshirt started burnin’. I don’tknow what happened. Iwasn’t tryin’ to Rip, but thenext thing I knew, Iwas outhere.”

Sampson glanced at Nox.“I bet it was some kind ofdefense mechanism. An

Incubus fight or flightresponse.”

“A cowardly one,” Noxmuttered. “All youhad todowasgetheroutofhere.Youhad her back for, what, twohours?And thiswas thebestyoucouldmanage?”

“It’s not like I had achoice.” Link was trying tostay focused, but his visionwas fuzzy. He fell back,pushinghishandsagainsthis

temples.Nox grabbed his arm and

yanked hard. There it was.The Binding Ring—the onethatshould’vebeengoingofflikeathree-alarmfire.

It was completely darknow.

They all stared at it inhorror.EvenLinklookedlikehe wanted to chuck it in thebushes.

“Maybeit’sbroken.”

Nox’s voice was hard.“Maybe you were just bornanidiot.”

Linkrolledtooneside.“Iwasrightthefirsttime.IfI’vegottalistentoyou,RichBoy,I might as well be in Hell.”He winced, sounding moremiserablethanpained.

“This is real productive,”Sampsonsaid.Noweveryonewasannoyed.

Even though the hybrid

had ruined everything, Noxknewitwasn’tthatsimple.

Linkdidn’thaveachoice,butIdid.Ichosenottofight.Ichosetogivein—togiveupeverything so she’d have abettershotatbeinghappy.

Oratleaststayingalive.Noxsighedandbentdown

in front of Link. “Think. Doyourememberanythingelse?Were there any other carsaround, or peoplewhomight

havewitnessedtheaccident?”Linkshookhishead.“No.

The only car I saw was thetruck that hit us. It wasn’t apickup like the junkers folksdrivebackhome inGatlin. Itwasoneof thosefancyblackRaptorswiththebigtiresandeverything.”

AblackRaptor.Sampson stared at Nox.

“Youknowwhat thatmeans,right?”

Nox nodded, not trustinghimselftospeak.

“What am I missin’?”Link asked, pushing himselfofftheground.

Sampsongrabbedhis armandpulledhimup,sofastthatLink’slegsdangledabovethegroundforasecond.“Doyouremember if the truck had ahugebirdonthehood?”

“Yeah,” Link answered.“Full-on Big Bird sized.

How’dyouknow?”Sampson dropped him.

Linkstumbled, likehiskneeswere going to buckle, andNox grabbed him before hecouldfall.

“It’s a raven.” Nox triednot to think about all thethings that might behappening to Ridley rightnow. “It was one of SilasRavenwood’strucks.”

CHAPTER2:LINK

Don’tKnowWhatYouGot(TillIt’sGone)

Silas Ravenwood. Thethought sent Link reeling. Itwas a punch to the gutmultipliedbyahundred.

What if she didn’t makeit?

Don’tdothistome,Rid.Ijustgotyouback.

“I’mtheonetheywanted.This is all my fault.” Linkcouldn’tbringhimselftolookat Sampson andNox as they

searchedthearea.Linkhadn’tbeen thisbangedup sincehestopped being a hundredpercent Mortal. But he feltevenworseontheinside,likehisheartwaslimping,too.

All he could think aboutwas Ridley. He slipped hishand out of his pocket andstared at the lifeless ring onhisfinger.

Whereareyou,Rid?“You’re right.Your fault.

No one’s arguing with you,”Nox said, walking ahead ofthem.Hedidn’tbothertoturnaround.

Link ignored him. “Shemust’ve made it out of thecar.LikeIsaid,Ireachedforherandshewasn’tthere.”

“Or whoever was drivingSilas Ravenwood’s truckgrabbed her,” Nox snapped.“Didyouthinkofthat?”

Link frowned. “Are you

sureitwasSilas’car?”“Everyone knows that

truck,”Sampsonsaid.Link stopped walking.

“I’m the one who killedAbraham Ravenwood, notRid. His psychotic grandsonshouldatakenme.”

“Finally we agree onsomething,”Noxsaid.

Link’s expressionhardened. “You can stopactin’ like you’re a big hero.

Theway I see it,weboth lether down. At least I’m manenoughtoadmitit.”

Nox’s eyes narrowed. “Iwasn’t the one behind thewheel.”

Link stepped forward,moving closer to Nox. “Youmightaswellhavebeen.”

Nox’s hands curled intofists.“Youhavenoideahowmuch I wish I was. Then Icould’ve done something.

Unlikesomeofus.”Sampsonsteppedbetween

them. “You two can fight itoutafterwefindher.”

“After we find her, I’mtaking her somewhere safewhere you’ll never see heragain.” Nox didn’t take hiseyesoffLink.

Link barely kept himselffrompunchingtheguyintheface.“I’dliketoseeyoutry.”

“And I’d like to beat the

crap out of you both.Unfortunately, as MickJagger would say, you can’talways get what you want.”Samshovedthemboth.“Nowmove.”

Link didn’t care if LennoxGateshadsavedtheirlivesatSirene. As far as he wasconcerned,theguywasstilla

tool. Another piece ofUnderground club trash whowastoorichandtooslickforanybody’s good. Not tomentiontheotherthing.

A tool who spent the lastfewmonths tryin’ tostealmygirlfriend.Whoonlywantstofind her so he can steal heragain.

Ifshe’sevenstillalive.Linktriednottothinkthat

way.Especiallysincenowthe

three of themwere holed upin a diner off the highway,doing their best to figure outawaytofindRidbeforetheykilled each other. Onlyexhaustion had prevented itfromhappeningsofar.

The three of them—four,if you counted Lucille—hadsearchedthewoodsforhours,looking for any sign ofRidley,even though theoddsseemed pretty high that Silas

oroneofhisthugshadtakenher.

Orherbody.That was the part no one

saidoutloud.Thesituationsucked.Isuck.Link didn’t have to say

that out loud, either. Hepushed the fries he’d neverconsidereatingaroundonhisplate.Mortal food tasted likecardboard, another downside

of being a quarter Incubus.Not that he would’ve beenabletoeatatatimelikethis.“YoureallythinkSilasmighthaveher?”

Nox didn’t respond rightaway. Instead, he stared intothecoffeecupinhishand.

Abadsign.“If she’s still alive,” Nox

saidfinally.“Don’t say that.” Link

started to lunge across the

table, but Sampson caughthim. “Don’t ever say thatagain. She’s alive. We justhavetofindher.”

“Yourring—”Noxstaredatit.

“Isbusted.”Linkglared.“Grow up,” Nox shot

back. “It’s called reality.Welethimtakeher.”

Link lunged again, andSampson picked him up bythe scruff of his neck, as if

the hulking hybrid was aharmlesskitten.

“Wedon’tknowanythingforsureyet.”SampsonhauledLink back down to his seat.“And I’m not sure RidleyDuchanneseverletanyonedoanything. So let’s all relax.We’re not gonna figure thisout if we can’t worktogether.”

The bells on the door ofthe diner chimed and Necro

and Floyd walked in,scanning the restaurant.Sampson had called them assoon as he’d sat down. Thegirlshadbeenlayinglowinacrappy Motel 6 outsideBrooklyn,waitingforSamtorescueNoxfromSilas’ thugssothebandcouldheadouttoLA as planned. When Samcalled to tell them about theaccident, Link’s bandmateshadn’t wasted any time

gettingthere.Floyd’sstringyblondhair

swung over her shoulders asshe searched forLink.Whenshe saw him, her face brokeinto a thousand pieces, likeshewasabouttostartsmilingorsobbing.Linkcouldn’t tellwhich. She practically rantoward their booth, in herholey jeans and faded PinkFloydDarkSideof theMoonconcert tee, and caught Link

around the neck in a hugehug.“Youokay?Weweresoworried.”

Link squeezed her tight.He knew Floyd still had athing for him, but at thatmoment, hewas so happy tosee his friends that he didn’tcare. At least she didn’tblamehimforeverythingthathad happened, like somepeople.

Myself included, he

thoughtmiserably.Someone coughed, and

Necro stood behind Floyd,flashingLinkapiercedsmile.Her short blue faux-hawkseemed bluer and herfuturistic leather jacketlooked even more MadMaxthanusual.Maybeeverythingwas a little sharper afteryou’ddodgeddeath.

“Hey,man.”Linkreachedto hug her, but she held up

herfistinstead.“Pound it,” she said,

smiling.SameoldNec.Thankgod

they’rehere.Necrosqueezedinnextto

Sampson, across from LinkandFloyd.NoxwassittingontheothersideofSam,andtheDarkborn took up more thanhisshareofthebooth.

“Thatwas fast,”Sampsonsaid.

Necro nodded. “Hoppedin the first cab we couldfind.”

“A fifty-buck cab ride.Don’t act like we don’t loveyou.”Floydturnedredasshestumbledoverthewords.

“And don’t act like youactuallypaidthedriver,”Noxcountered.

“So what happened?”Necroasked.

“Silas Ravenwood—or

someone drivin’ one of histrucks. That’s whathappened.” Link shrugged.“The Beater took her lastbeatin’,andRid—”Hisvoicefaltered. He couldn’t tell thestoryagain.

Notwithoutpuking.Floyd squeezed his

shoulder. “Sampson gave usthe highlights on the phone.He said Ridley’s missing.”Eventhoughshehadfeelings

forLink, shealmost soundedsorry.

“We looked everywhere,andtherewasnosignofher,”Noxsaid.“OurguessisSilashas her, but we don’t knowwherehetookher.”

Sampson chugged whathad to be his fifth glass ofmilk. The guy atemore thanLink used to when he wasstill aMortal. It was hard toknow how things worked

with Darkborns, since therehad never been any until theOrder of Things was brokenlast year. Everyone was stillfiguring it out, includingSampson. “Silas is the headoftheSyndicate.Hecan’trunanoperationlikethatwithouta place to meet his scumbagassociates.It’snotlikehecanrentoutofficespace.”

“The Syndicate?” Linkhad never heard of it before.

“Asinacrimesyndicate?”“The Underground has

even more organized crimethantheMortalworld,”Floydsaid. “Gambling, drugs,power trafficking—younameit. And the Syndicate runsmostofit.”

“So you’re sayin’ Silas isthe head a the Mob?” Thethought made Link nervous.“You mean like DonCorleone, that fat guy from

TheGodfather?”Sampson shoved the

empty glass across the table.“The Syndicate makes theMob look like a charityorganization.”

Link almost made a jokeabout his mom and hercutthroat Daughters of theAmerican Revolutionmeetings; the DAR couldgive the Mob a run for itsmoney,anydayof theweek.

But then he rememberedRidwasn’t there, which meantthere was no one around tolaughathisGatlinjokes.

Nothing’s the samewithouther.

Then another thoughtcrossedhismind.

TheDAR.Mymom.Linkboltedupright in his

seat. “Holy crap. I’ve gottacallmymom.”

“Youdidn’tcallheryet?”

Sam shook his head. “Thecops probably traced thelicense plates on the Beaterby now. I bet they alreadycalledher.”

Link dialed his homenumber as fast as he could.His mom was going to killhim for not calling. Thepreacher and all her DARfriendswereprobablyalreadyat the house in one of theirprayercircles.

Hismompickeduponthefirst ring,andLinkcould tellfrom all the sniffling thatshe’dbeencrying.

“Ma? It’s Link. I mean,Wesley—”

“Wesley!” He heard amuffled sound like she wascovering the mouthpiece.“It’sWesley.TheGoodLordAlmighty answered ourprayers.”

Link could imagine the

chorus of hallelujahs, inbetween big bites of I ToldYou That Boy Was TroubleCasseroleandHopeYourSonDoesn’tSmokePotPie.

Amoment later, hismomwas back on the line. “Whathappened? The police calledand toldme they found yourcar totaled on the highway,but you were missing. UpNorth.” She said the wordstheway someone elsewould

say “on the Titanic.” Thenshe went on. “Are you allright?Doyouhaveamnesia?Lord, please don’t let himhaveamnesia.”

“Calm down, Mom. If Ihadamnesia,Iwouldn’thaveremembered our phonenumber. I’m okay. I wasn’teven in the car.” Link hadonlycomeupwiththatdetaila moment ago, and he waspretty proud of himself. “It

was a mix-up. Somebodystole theBeater, but I hadn’treported it yet, sowhen theygot to the crash site, theythought I was the onedrivin’.”

“And you’re just callingnow?”Theangerwasalreadybrewing in hismom’s voice.“Doyouhaveanyconceptionof how worried I’ve been? IalreadycalledoldBuckPettyandaskedhim to loaduphis

hounds!”Link sighed, rubbing his

spikyhair.“What were you gonna

do? Drive down to GeorgiaRedeemer with a truck fullabloodhounds?” Link wasproud of himself forrememberingthenameofthecollegehewassupposedtobeattending.

“That is what goodmothers do when their sons

aremissing,WesleyJeffersonLincoln! I have beenabsolutelybesidemyself.Didyou forget how to callcollect? We practiced beforeyouleft.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I justfound out what happened alittle while ago, and I can’ttalk’causethepoliceneedmeto fill out a report.” And hismom thought all those hourshe’d spent watchingMatlock

wereawasteoftime.“Why would someone

steal a car from GeorgiaRedeemeranddrive itall theway to the New JerseyTurnpike?”

“I don’t know, but you’dbetter activate the phone treeandcalleverybodybeforetheladies in the DAR drive toGeorgia and start nailin’ mypicturetotelephonepoles.”

“You’d better call me

back later, Wesley,” Link’smothersaidunderherbreath.“This conversation isn’tover.”

“Okay, Mom. Gotta go.I’mlosin’ya.”Linkcrumpleda napkin into the speaker forgoodmeasureashehungup.

Some things neverchanged, no matter how badyouwantedthemto.

When he turned back tothetable,everyonewastrying

not to smile—except the richboy. “All right. All right.Show’sover,”Linksaid.“SowheredowefindSilas?”

“When Silas isn’tthrowing his weight around,helikestolaylow,”Sampsonsaid.“Soheprobablyrunshisoperation from somewhereoffthegrid.”

“That is about as low asthings get,” Necro said,turning to Nox. “You know

Silasbetterthantherestofus.If he’s got Ridley, wherewouldhetakeher?”

“Idon’tknowhimaswellas you think.” Nox lookedannoyed. “I’m not on hispayroll. Silas comes aroundand causes trouble, thendisappears. If he’s using theTunnels togetaround,whichI would, he could beanywhere.” The CasterTunnelsranbelowtheMortal

world, and time and distancedidn’t follow the same rulesdownthere.

Floyd looked at Nox.“And Abraham nevermentioned anything backwhen”—she hesitated—“youknewhim.”

Nox rolled up the sleevesof what looked to Link likeanotheroneofhisoverpricedhipster shirts. “Like I said, Ididn’t spend a lot of time

with him. Considering hepretty much kidnapped mymom.Heonlyletmevisithera few times when I wasyoung.” Nox stopped talkingand looked up at the ceiling.“The rest of the time hewasinhislabs.”

I guess Fancy Pants hasfeelings, too, Link thought.Funny how it didn’t makehim want to punch the guyanyless.

“Okay. At least that’ssomething to go on.Did youever hear him talk about thelabs?”Sampsonasked.

“Sure. Abraham wasobsessed with them and hisprojects—that’s what hecalled them. But he neverinvited me on a tour. Theywere somewhere behind hishouse.”

“Youknowthatforsure?”Linkwassuspicious.

“LikeIsaid,Ispentsometime at his house. So didSilas. He even had his ownroom. Imade themistake ofgoing in there by accidentonce.” Nox shook his head,remembering. “I noticed thisold record player in one ofthe bedrooms, and I wantedtoseehow the thingworked.Abrahamwasstanding in thehall when I came back out.I’llneverforgetwhathesaid.

I tolerate the way you sneakaroundmyhouse,boy.But ifSilas catches you near hisroom,hemightthinkyou’reathiefandcutoffyourhand.”

“Thanks for sharin’ yourcreepy childhoodmemories,”Linksaid.“That’llreallyhelpmesleep.”

Noxfrowned.“AllIknowis, Silas never stayed awayfrom the labs for long, likehis old man. If we find the

labs,Ibetwe’llfindhim.”“So where’s the house?”

Sampsonasked.Nox shook his head. “I

don’t know. Abraham’s menblindfolded me wheneverthey took me through theTunnels to visit my mom.And the place is under somekind of Cloaking Cast, soMortalscan’tseeit.”

Another dead end, Linkthought.Great.

He considered callingEthan, who was a thousandtimes smarter than him. ButEthan messing with SilasRavenwood was a suicidemission. Link couldn’t letanything happen to his bestfriend, not after Ethan hadalreadydiedtwice.

“There’sgottabesomeonewhoknowshowtofindthoselabs,”Sampsonsaid.

A thought formed in

Link’s mind slowly, likesyruppouringoutofabottle.“Thereis.Theguywhogrewup in them.” He looked up.“JohnBreed.”

“Who?” Sampsonsounded suspicious, whichseemed like part of hisDarkbornnature.

“He’s one a the goodguys,”Linksaid.“Buthewasa bad dude for a long timebefore that. So he’s kind of

myDarkCasterWikipedia.”Nox crossed his arms.

“I’m not sure a good guy isgonnacutitinthissituation.”

“He’ll cut it and thensome.Trustme.”

Noxdidn’trespond.“How can you be so

sure?”Necroasked.“Abraham Ravenwood

engineered him in one of hiscreepy science labs.” Linkgrinned.“AndJohn’stheone

whohelpedmekillhim.”“Are you saying one of

Abraham’s scienceexperiments went rogue?”Sampsonasked.

“We’re talkin’Frankenstein meetsRoboCop,” Link saidproudly.

Link skimmed over thedetails, like how John Breedwas the hybrid Incubus whohad bitten him, transforming

him into the quarter Incubushe was today. It felt weirdtalking about it, like he wasstanding in frontofeveryonein his underwear. It was ahard thing to forgive, but itwasn’tJohn’sfault;Abrahamhad really screwed him up.Besides, John came throughforhimandhis friendswhenit counted—and he and Johnkilled Abraham together. Itwas the kind of bond you

couldn’tbreak.Instead, Link told them

how Abraham Ravenwoodhad handpicked John’sparents, aBlood Incubusandan Evo—an Evo being apowerful Caster who canborrow the powers of anyCaster they touch. Abrahamused the two to create theperfect hybrid—with all thepowerofanIncubusandnoneoftheweaknesses.

John could Travel andpossessed the superstrengthof a traditional Incubus, buthealsohad thepowersof anEvo.AndhecoulddotheonethingnootherIncubuscould,exceptLink:Johncouldwalkinthesunlight.

If anyone could find thelabs,itwasJohn.

“So what are we waitingfor?” Floyd asked. “Callhim.”

Link sighed. “He’s not inGatlin. He’s at Oxford withhisgirlfriend,Liv.”

“Again, it’s called aphone.” Floyd wasn’thelping.

“You don’t get it. Liv’sthiscrazygeniuswhospendsallhertimeinthelibrary.Shenever carried a cell phonebackinGatlin,andJohnisn’tany better now. I tried thenumberhegavemeabuncha

times, but it went straight tovoicemail.”

“Okay,”Floydsaid.“Thenyou’ll have to Rip us allthere.”

“I don’t fly.” Sampsonleaned back in the booth,armscrossed.

“Really?” Necro lookedamused and nudged himplayfully.“You?”

Sampsonshovedhishandsinto his pockets, looking

embarrassed.“Rippin’ isn’t exactly the

sameasflyin’,”Linksaid.“Itfeelsmorelikegettin’suckedintoavacuumcleaner.”

The Darkborn stared athim.“Eventhoughyoumakeitsoundsoappealing,I’llstillpass.”

“I hate to say it, but I’mwith Sampson,” Necro said.“Traveling in and out of myownbodyisbadenough.”

Nox looked away. Necrohad barely recovered fromusing her powers as aNecromancer to letAbrahamtake over her body andgetting poisoned. Even now,Linknoticedthattheshadowsunder her eyes were darkerthanusual.

They’ve all been throughenough, on account of Ridandme.

And Nox, too—he’s

causedhisshareoftrouble.ButFloyd andNecro and

Sampson? Think about howmucheasiertheirliveswouldbe ifAbrahamandSilas hadgotten what they wanted thefirsttimearound.

How can I ask them tosign up for round two of theCastersmackdown?

“I’ll go,” Floyd said rightaway.

Link was grateful, but he

also felt guilty. “You don’thavetodoanythingyoudon’twanna do.” Like it or not,Link’s heart had alwaysbelonged to one particularSiren, and he was going tofind her, no matter what ittook.

“Thanks for theclarification.”Floydsmiled.

“I’m coming, too,” Noxsaidfromacrossthetable.

“Idon’tthinkthat’ssucha

good idea,” Link said.“John’s kinda like SammyBoy. It takes him a while towarmup to people.Andyoutwo don’t have much incommon.”

“I’m going.” Nox startedtostandup,butNecrocaughthisarm.

“Let me put it anotherway,”Linksaid.“You’renotcomin’. So unless you canRip,you’reouttaluck.Andif

you really care aboutRidley,you’ll stop screwin’ aroundandwastin’time.”

The accusation seemed tohit a nerve, and Nox backedoff.

“Don’t worry, Nox.”Floyd jumped in.“We’ll findthisJohnBreedguy.”

Everyone followed Linkoutside. He led them behindthe diner so he and Floydcould dematerialize without

anyonenoticing.Link held out his hand.

“Ready?”Floydnoddedandtookit.Necro gave her a quick

hug.“Goodluck.”“We won’t need it.” By

the time the words leftFloyd’slips,theyweregone.

CHAPTER3:NOX

StreetofDreams

Newark?AsinNewJersey?I stilldon’tget it.Youknowthe Tri-State Area isn’t ourfriend.” Necro soundedannoyedasshefollowedNoxand Sam down the sidewalk.“Or am I the only one withthe less-than-happymemories?”

“We’llbefine,”Noxsaid.“Between the soccer momsand the Mortal Mafia, even

Silas’thugsavoidtheGardenStateliketheplague.”

“Isn’t it a little close tohome, after the fire atSirene?” Necro lookedskeptical. “Because the placewas swarming with Silas’men.Iwasthere,incaseyouforgot.”

“That’swhy Jersey’ssafe.The club is gone. Silas hasbigger things to think aboutnow.”

Sampson stopped in frontof a tacky condo complexmade to look like a fakeTudor village. “The EssexHouse. This is April’s place,or maybe June’s. She’snamed after a month. That’saboutallIremember.”

“Charming,” Necro said.“It’s nice to see how muchyour girlfriends mean toyou.”

“She wasn’t my

girlfriend,” Sampson said,turning red. “Just someone Ihookedupwithonce.”

“As if that’s better?”Necroraisedaneyebrow.

“Idon’tcarewhosheisaslong as she left us the key,”Nox said. Aftereavesdropping on Sampson’send of an awkward phoneconversation,allheknewwasthat April or June—orwhateverthegirl’snamewas

—seemed happy to let themhang out at her place in thehopes of reconnecting withSampson.

Necro shook her head.“Have you ever had arelationship that lasted morethan one night?” TheNecromancer sounded likeshewas joking, but from thelook on her face, she wasn’tgivingupuntil shegota realanswer.

Sampson frowned.“Maybe I just haven’t foundtherightgirl.”

“Keep telling yourselfthat,” Nox said. “You stillneed to cover the other tenmonthsintheyear—whystopat April and June? There’sSeptember and October,NovemberandDecember…”

“Enough.” Sampsonswiped the key frombeneathaflowerpotonthestoop.

Assoonastheygotinside,Necro made herself at homeand flopped down in amachine-distressed armchair.She picked up a decorativepillow covered withembroidered birds and a fatyellow sun and glanced atSampson. “It’s official. Youwin.Youhavetheworsttasteingirls.”

Nox just stared at thepillowasifhe’dseenaghost.

Inaway,hefeltlikehehad.Is it possible? Could I

reallybethatstupid?Theothershardlynoticed.“Fine.Shewasn’tarocket

scientist.” Sampson soundedembarrassedasheopenedtherefrigerator,hidingbehindthedoor. “At least I found us aplace to stay. Nox can’t goback to his apartment.And Ican’t go back to ours, notafterIputmyfistthroughthe

window of one of Silas’cars.”

“And then stole it,” Noxadded. He glanced out thewindow, where the immenseblackcar lookedoutofplacein thecondo lot fullof silverminivans. Suddenly, he feltlikehe’dgive anything tobeout there, instead of stuckinsidethecloyingapartment.

He had to get his headstraightandremember.

Sampson took out a loafof bread and a mountain ofsandwich ingredients,including a whole jar ofpickles. “Artisanalmayonnaise?What’sartisanalmayonnaise?” He poppedopen the jar with the hand-drawn label and smelled themayo andmade a face. “I’mprettysureit’snotfood.”

Nox grabbed his coat.“I’m gonna take a walk. I

needsomeair.”Ihavetotrytoremember.Necroproppedhercombat

boots up on the arm of thechair and opened a coffeetablebookaboutcoffee tablebooks. “Don’t do anything Iwouldn’tdo.”

As Nox closed the frontdoor behind him, he knewwhat he needed to do. He’dbarely reached the sidewalkbeforehedrewthelighterout

ofhispocket.Thentheworldblurred and the vision hithim.…

Two men in a car, speedingdownthehighwaywithatrailofcigarsmokecurlingbehindthem.

“Whatdoyouwantme todo with her?” the bigger ofthetwomenasks.

“Depends.” His voice…it’sfamiliar.

Silas.“Let’s seehowshe reacts

totheinfusion.Ihaveagoodfeeling about this one: luckyNumber13.”

“Don’tgetyourhopesup.You’ve been working on thisfor years, and it hasn’tworkedyet.”

“Trial and error,” Silassays.“That’sthewayscience

works. The doc thinks we’vefinally perfected the formula,and this girl isn’t youraverage Caster. She comesfromastrongbloodline.”

“And if the infusiondoesn’t take?” the hulkingman asks. He’s so huge thathemustbeaDarkborn.

Silasflickshisashoutthewindow. “You can kill herliketherestofthefailures,orkeepher.Yourchoice.”

“After all the trouble youwent to to get her? Sure youdon’twanttheleftovers?”

“I’m not interested indamagedgoods,”Silassays.

Nothing but miles ofhighwaystretchinfrontofthecar,untilagreensigncomesinto view: NEW ORLEANS 42MILES.

“If you pull this off, theSyndicate will beunstoppable,” the Darkborn

says.Silas stops and turns to

lookathisassociate.“No.I’llbeunstoppable.”

The edges of the world bledback into Nox’s peripheralvision, and his heart thuddedinhischestashestruggledtopushthefogoutofhismind.

Damagedgoods.

Silas had to be talkingabout Ridley. He’d gone toenough trouble to take her.But if he was still talkingabouthernow—

She’salive.Nox forced himself to be

logical,evenastheadrenalinepoundedinhisveins.

Silas could’ve beenreferringtosomeoneelse.ButI wouldn’t have a visionaboutarandomgirl.

The second conclusionwastheonethatmattered.

He’s got Ridley.Somewhere in New Orleansorclosetoit.

It means we still havesometime.

Notmuch.Nox let himself breathe

again, but only for aminute.If he was right and Rid wasstill alive, the clock wasticking.Hewasn’t surewhat

kind of infusion Silas wastalking about, but if itinvolved one of hisexperiments,itwasn’tgood.

At least I know whereSilashasher.

If Silas was headed forNewOrleans,itmeanthewasgoing to RavenwoodOaks—Abraham’s plantation. Theplace where Nox had visitedhismom.Thatmustbewherethelabswere,too.

I should tell Necro andSam.ButIcan’t.

They’dboughtintoLink’scrazy plan to find this Johnperson.

But come on. Who aretheykidding?

No friend of Link’s isgoing to be any help to us.The hybrid is a foolsurroundedbyfools.

Noxlookedbackupatthecondo complex behind him,

handsjammedinhispockets.I can’t take Necro and

Sampson with me. I’ve hurtthem enough. EspeciallyNecro—she almost got killedbecause of me. And Sam’staken a bullet for me moretimes than I can count.They’ll only end up gettinghurt.

Because the people hecared about always ended upgettinghurt.

It was the most painfulrecognitionofall.

I’m the real threat, butI’vealwaysknownthat.

Noxwasbetteroff onhisown.Ridwastheonlypersonwhounderstoodhowitfelttobe the reason the peoplearound you were always inpain—evenifyoudidn’twantthemtobe.

Wishing you could tradeplaceswiththem.

Itwas selfish to put themin danger when Nox hadcollected more than enoughtalents, favors,andpowersatthe gambling tables in hisclubs. Those TFPs wouldcompensate for going inalone.Nottomentionthefactthat takingmore people onlyincreased the odds of gettingcaught.

I can get more done bymyself.Without riskingall of

theirlivesagain.Noxknewwhere thiswas

all headed—and what wasabouttohappen.

Ridwouldtellmetodoit.She’dunderstand.

She’d say, quit whining.Getoffyourbuttandgo.

Nox made his way downthe sidewalk, still sensingSampson’seyesonhimfromthe window above.When heturned the corner, he picked

up his pace and headedstraight for the commutertrainstation.Italsohappenedto be the location of thenearest Outer Door, one ofthemagicaldoorwaysthatledfrom the Mortal world intotheCasterTunnels.

Hewasn’twaitingaroundfor Link and Floyd to comeback.Notnow.IfRidleywasstillalive,shedidn’thavethatkind of time, and he wasn’t

leaving her fate in the handsofheridiotboyfriendorJohnBreed, another hybrid Noxdidn’tknowifhecouldtrust.

Damagedgoods.His hands formed fists at

thethoughtofSilassayingit.And if she’s gone when I

get there—or if it isn’t herand she’s already dead—I’llmakeSilaspay.

Linkwaswrongaboutonething: JohnBreedwasn’t the

only person who knew thelocationofAbraham’slabsinNew Orleans and theSyndicate.

Nox had known from theminutehefirstsawthestupidembroidered pillow in theMortal girl’s apartment—theone that looked like a giantyellowsun.

It had triggered thememory that told him whereheneeded togoandwhathe

neededtodonext.He tried to silence the

voiceinhishead,shoulderingpast the commuters on theplatformwaitingforthetrain,andslippedthroughanaccessdoor behind the elevators.The hallway was dark, thesmellofmoldclinging to theair. He passed abandonedelectrical panels that hadn’tbeen used since the cityupgradedthestationalmosta

decadeago.Attheendofthehall, he spotted the OuterDoor.

Nox bent down andtouched the top of themanhole cover, whisperingthe Cast to access it. “Aperiportam.”

In other words, open thedamndoor.

Itslidasideeasily,andhelowered himself towardwhatlooked like a deadly drop.

But Nox knew that theinvisible steps were waitingbelow.Oncehis feet touchedthe first stair, he jumped therest of them, leaving theMortalworldbehind.

The predictability of theCasterworldwascomforting.The invisible stairs werealways where the invisiblestairs were supposed to be,and the Casts invariablyopenedtheCasterdoors.

Aside from the fact thattime and distance operateddifferently in the CasterTunnels, most of themweren’t much different fromthe cities and streets in theMortal world. Sure, some ofthem looked like you werewalking through thepagesofa history book—the MiddleAges, the Renaissance,Victorian London—whileothers reminded him of the

fantasy novels he read as akid.

ThisTunnelwasn’toneofthem.

As his boots splashedthroughtherancidwater,ratsscurried through the waterysludge.Noxwas grateful theTunnel wasn’t well lit.Thoughhedidn’t spenda lotoftimehangingoutinsewagetunnels, this probably wasn’tfar off—which was a

depressing thought,considering that the place hewasgoingwasfarworse.

CHAPTER4:RIDLEY

DreamingNeonBlack

You remember everysecond of your death. Atleast,thatwasthewayitwasforRidley.

Ifshewasdead.Shewasn’tsure.Thatpart

wasalittlefoggy.Firstcametheguitarsolo,

crackling through the radio.Then sounds and imagesfloodedhermind.

The black truck speeding

towardtheBeater—The tires screeching and

metalbuckling—Screams ringing in my

ears. Link shoutingmy name—

Andsmoke,andheat,andflames—

Ridley opened her eyesslowly.Shewas lyingonherback,andherheadwasfuzzy.Everything was coated in ahazy film like she was

looking through a cameralens smeared with Vaseline.A terrifying thought ranthroughhermind.

Pleasedon’tletmebeinacoffin. Seriously. I had epicplansformyfuneral.

Sheblinkedharduntilshecould make out whatresembled a blurry bedroomceilingaboveher.

Thankgod.She patted around her

body and felt a stiffmattressbeneathher.

Where am I? And howlonghaveIbeenhere?

And more importantly,wherewasLink?

Shetriedtorememberthedetails of the crash, but afterthe flames and the smoke,therewasnothing.

If he’s dead… after allwe’ve been through, I’ll killhimmyself.

That would be just myluck.

Tofinallylosemyhearttoa guy right before his stopsbeating.

She swiped at her facewith her free hand, rubbingaway a few stray tears. Shehadn’tevenfeltthemcoming,but the sudden movementsent a shock wave of paintearingupherback.Herbodyfeltlikesomeonehadtakena

hammer to it. Her neck wasso tender that it hurt everytime she took a breath. Herarms were covered inyellowish-purple bruises, andif the way her shoulders andback feltwas any indication,theyprobablywere,too.

“Make sure you let meknowwhenshewakesup,”amansaid fromsomewhere inthe distance. “It should besoon.”

Ridley turned her head tothe side, wincing from thepain,asshestruggledtofightherwayoutof thehaze.Shetook in her surroundings inbroad strokes. An ornatechandelier dripping withcrystals provided the onlylight, and an expensive-lookingPersiankilimcoveredthe concrete floor. The stonewalls had been whitewashedapalegrayinanunsuccessful

attempt to make the roomlooklesslikeaprison,butthebarreddoorruinedtheeffect.

I’m locked up in a cellsomeone decorated like apsychotic B and B. This isSilence of the Lambsterritory. Any minute now,some whack-job serial killerwill be standingon theotherside of those bars, decidingwhatkindofcoattomakeoutofmyskin.

Another man’s voice,harsher than the first, echoedbeyond the bars. “You needto figure out where thathybridwent, or it’s your ass.I’m not taking the blame forthis.Areweclear?”

Hybrid.They’re talking about

Link.Maybe there’s still a

chancehe’salive.“You already lost one of

them,” the second voicecontinued. “A mistake he’llmake us both pay for whenthissituationisundercontrol.Find the hybrid, or I’mthrowing you under a lotmore than a bus.Understand?” The guysoundedSouthern,likeLink’sneighborsinGatlin.

The conversationdissolved into a string ofmumblingasthefogwrapped

itselfaroundheroncemore.Breathe. Close your eyes

andfocus.Evenifithurts.It took a few moments

before the muffled wordsbegantomakesenseagain.

“You really think theSiren will tell us anything?”the guy who’d taken atongue-lashingasked.

The Southern guylaughed. “By the time he’sfinished with her, she’ll tell

him everything. That’s whentherealfunstarts.”

Ridley pressed the heelsof her hands against hertemples, trying to clear herhead. If their voices weren’techoingandvibratinglikeshewas inside a carnival funhouse, maybe she couldfigure out who she wasdealingwith.

Whatthehelldidtheygiveme?

Horsetranquilizers?“Sohejuicesherup.What

then? Think he’s gonna sellher?” the first guy asked. “Ibet there are dozens ofCasters in the Syndicatewho’dlovetohaveahotlittleSirenlikeher.”

Ridley’s breath caught inherthroat.

Sellme?Who are these psychos?

And how am I going to get

outofhereandfindLink?She didn’t let herself

consider the other possibility—the chance that there wasnoonelefttofind.

The guy in charge wassilent for a moment, whichdidn’t seem likeagreat sign.“He might keep this one forhimself. He doesn’t have aSiren, and the good ones arehardtofind.”

Who are they talking

about?Footfalls echoed against

the concrete floor, growingquieter with every step.Ridley took a deep breath,hoping the two men wereleaving.

As the echoes grewfainter, she heard theSouthern guy one last time.“She’ll make a perfectadditiontotheMenagerie.”

Ridley had no idea what

hewastalkingabout,butshehad the feeling it was a lotworse thanbeing locked in agilded birdcage. She’d beenin enough trouble in her lifetorecognizethekindshewasinrightnow.

Itwasthekindthatstartedwith being kidnapped anddruggedby aman she didn’tknow and ended with herwishingsheweredead.

“Hey? Are you okay in

there, Pink?” A girl’s voicepulled Ridley out of the fogshecouldn’tseemtofightherwaythrough.

She had no idea howmuch time had passed, butsomeonehadleftatraywithabowl of cloudy, pee-coloredsoup and a glass ofwater ontopofthemirrorednightstandbesideherbed.

Howdidsomeonecomeinherewithoutmeknowing?

Ridley tried to sit up, butshe didn’t have the strength.Her legs were cold, and sherealized she was wearingwhatfeltlikeahospitalgown—somethingasshapelessasasack of rice, and about asrough and cheap. Nothinglike the silk geisha robe shenormally wore when shelounged in bed. And shewasn’t about to touch herhair.Sheshuddered.

Excellent.Whydidn’ttheyjust kill me and get it overwith?

Ridley reached for theglass of water on the tablebesideher.Shemisjudgedthedistance,anditcrashedtothefloor.

WhoamIkidding?She had trouble moving,

like she was trying to swimthrough a pool of Jell-O. Afew hours ago, she probably

wouldn’t have heard it if atrain had come through here.But now her head wasclearing, and she shivered,realizing the person musthave been right next to herbed if they’d left the traythere.

She reached out again,more carefully this time, andstuck her finger in thequestionablebowlofsouponthetray.Itwasstillwarm.

Then she noticed theBindingRingonherfinger.Itwas lifeless, no color at all.As if the power was gone,along with whatever it wasthat had kept her Bound toherfriends.

ToLink.She could feel the tears

begintowellagain.“Hey, Pink? I just wanna

know if you’re all right.” Itwas the same girl’s voice,

barely above a whisper.“Theywerekindofroughonyou.”

Ridley managed to pushherselfupand leanedagainsttheheadboard.Herarmswereheavy, as if she was pullingthemoutofwetcementeverytimeshemoved.Butthatwasnothing compared to thethrobbinginherhead.

They must have given mesomethingstronger.

Do they make elephanttranquilizers?

Someonehaddruggedherfor sure, and whatever theyhadgivenherwasbadnews.Sirens had a high tolerancefor drugs and alcohol, andthis was unlike anythingRidleyhadeverexperienced.

Still,shemanagedtoslidedownfromthebedandcrawlacross the floor, determinedto find out who the voice

belonged to, and if shecouldseewheretheywere.

By the time Ridley madeit over to the bars, she wasfeelingbetter andworse.Herthoughts were less jumbled,and her coordination wasreturning. But nowwaves ofnausea racked her bodywitheverybreath.

Ridleyladderedherhandsup the bars until she wasstanding, even if her legs

wereshaking.“Who’sthere?”she whispered. “Get me outofhere.”

“I can’t. I’m locked up,too.” The voice sounded aslowasshefelt.

The words sent a joltthrough Ridley; at thatmoment,her instinct forself-preservation was morepowerful than any drug.“How long have you beenhere?”sheasked.

“Months,”thegirlsaid.“Idon’tknowanymore.”

“Nine months,” a secondgirl, with a German accent,muttered from somewhere inthe hallway. It was so quietRidley had to strain to makeout thewords. “Drew’s beenhere nine months. She camein after me. My name isKatarina.”

This is a bad dream,Ridley thought. Or a drug-

inducedhallucination.Eitherway,it’snotreal.It

can’tbe.“Who locked us up like

this?”sheasked.Itwasn’therfirsttimeinacage,butshe’dnever imagined it wouldhappenagain.

TheluckoftheSiren.Footsteps echoed through

the passageway. “Wake herup. She’s been asleep longenough.” Harsh voices.

Men’s voices. The kind thatdidn’tcarewhoheardthem.

Ridley scrambled back tothe bed, her vision blurry. Ashadowmovedinthehallwayoutsidehercell.

Amomentlater,ahulkingfigure appeared on the othersideofthebars.

“Sweet dreams, Siren?Hopeyouhadanicenap,”anenormous guy said. Ridleyrecognized his Southern

accent. He unlocked the cellandsteppedinside,slammingthedoorbehindhim.

Ridley fought to keephereyes fixed on him andsummoned her Power ofPersuasion.

Youdon’twanttobehere.You want to turn around

andleave.Don’t bother to close the

door.The guy pocketed the

keys, moving closer. Whenhe noticed Ridley staring athim intently, he laughed.“Don’t strain yourself, Siren.DarkbornsareimmunetothePowerofPersuasion.”

Ridley let her vision bluragainandslumpedagainsttheheadboard.Ifshecouldn’tuseherpowersagainsthercaptor,howwasshegoingtogetoutofthere?

“Whatareyougoingtodo

withme?”sheasked.“Right now, I’m going to

give you another shot of thegoodstuff.”Heslidasyringefromhispocketanduncappedit, tapping it with his finger.“Onthehouse.”

“Leave her alone. If youturn her brain to mush, yourboss will be angry,” Drewsaidfromsomewherebeyondthebars.

“Shut your mouth,” the

Darkbornwieldingtheneedlesnapped. “Or you’ll be nextup,OatmealBrain.”

Ridleyshrankaway.“Youdon’thavetodothat.I’mnotgonnascreamoranything.”

“Scream all you want,Siren. No one will hear youdown here.” He grinned, histeethflashinginthedarkness.“AndIlovescreaming.Ilivefor that crap. Ask your newfriends.”He raisedhisvoice.

“Am I right? You gotanything to add now,Oatmeal?”

Ridley shivered, and noonesaidanotherword.

He reached for Ridley’swrist. She tried to fight himoff, but the huge Darkbornwas even bigger thanSampson.

This is one fight I’m notgonnawin.

The needle slid into her

arm, a thin, gray wormbeneath her skin, and shewinced, then involuntarilyrelaxed as a cold wave ofchemicalsleeprolledthroughher.Shestruggledtoresistit,butherbodyfloatedaway.

“Nicerock,”theguysaid,looking at her hand. “What’sthat, a present from yourboyfriend?” He laughed, andshewanted to tellhimwherehe could stick his stupid

needle, but suddenly shecouldn’tevenrememberwhy.

No.Fight.If you lose control now,

you’llloseeverything.Stayawakeandfindaway

out.Linkwillfindyou.“What is this place?” she

mumbledastheroompitchedin and out of darkness. Shehadtoknow.Shehadtostay

awake. She had to tell Link.…

Sheheardheavyfootsteps;thenthecelldoorclosed.

“Welcome to theMenagerie.”

CHAPTER5:LINK

LondonCalling

Link and Floyd hurtled

through the darkness, finallycrashing into a heap. It hitLink right away: the familiardizziness of Traveling—defying space, time, and thelaws of physics as only anIncubuscould.

It was exhilarating. Andfreeing.And—

“I think I’m gonna throwup,” Floyd said fromsomewherebeneathhim.

Nauseating.

Linkrolledtothesideanduntangledhis legs fromhers.“Juststickyourheadbetweenyourknees. Itworks.Oryoucanhurl.Thatworks,too.”

Floydtookhisadvice,herlong hair brushing the grass.“You really need to practiceif you’re gonna keepTraveling.Yougottastickthelanding.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”Link lookedaround.“Onour

wayback.”“Promises,promises.”Link sat up, holding his

hand high, and took a goodlook at his Binding Ring. Itwas glowing as red as fire.Knowing it still worked wasbittersweet. It wasn’t totallybusted, only broken when itcametofindingRid.

“They gotta be heresomewhere,” he said. “Johnand Liv. My Caster mood

ring is goin’ nuts.” Hejammed his hand back intohispocket.

“Yousurethis is therightplace?”Floydsatup,rubbingthegrassoutofherhair.

Truthfully, Link wasn’texactly sure if he’d RippedthemtoOxfordUniversityorsomeotherplacewithweird-looking buildings thatreminded him of churches.AsidefromatriptoBarbados

through the Tunnels, he’dneverbeenoutsidetheUnitedStates—or outside the South—untilthissummer,whenheandRidhadtakenofftoNewYorkCity.

And the day Rid and mespent in theSouthofFrance.She was wearin’ her redbikini. But that was France,the place where the frenchfries sucked (go figure), andhe’dwastedalldaysearching

for the Colosseum (until Ridexplained it was in Italy).How was he supposed toknow what the UK lookedlike? Link racked his brain,trying to remember as muchas he could from the HarryPottermovies.“Bigredbusesandphonebooths,right?Andguys in bow ties, andsupersizedbeers?”

“What are you babblingabout?”Floydliftedherhead

up.“The Unified Kingdom,”

Linksaid.Floydlookedlikeshewas

tryingnottolaugh.“Yeah?Isthatwhatit’scallednow?”

Link shrugged. “I’m notsure, but I hope we’re inLondon.”

She pulled her long hairout of her face and into aponytail. “So let me get thisstraight? John’s girlfriend,

Liv,isastudentatOxford,soyoutookustoLondon?”

“You got a problem withthat?”

“Yeah, genius. BecauseOxford University is inOxford. That’s probably howtheycameupwith theclevername.”

Link lookedaround.Theyhad landed in an opencourtyardsurroundedbygraystone buildings. He headed

towardoneofatleastadozenidentical archways aroundthem and hopped over somebushes and onto a coveredwalkway.

“Slow down,” Floydcalledfrombehindhim.

“Sorry.” He grabbed herand hoisted her over thebushes.

They followed thewalkway through one of thebuildings andonto a cobbled

streetrightoutofthemovies.Studentsandgrouchy-lookingoldmenwearing tweedvestsrushedpastthem.

Link glanced around.“How are we supposed toknow if we’re in the rightplace?Maybewe should asksomeone.” He stopped ascrawnyguywithglassesinaTrinityCollegeT-shirt.“Hey,dude, is this OxfordUniversity? In the Unified

Kingdom?”Theguybackedawayand

gave him a strange look.“Yes,Isupposeitis.Moreorless.”Hestartedtoturnaway.

“Where’s the library?”Linkasked.

“Whichone?”NowitwasLink’sturnto

give him a strange look.“There’smorethanone?”

Why?The guy pushed his

glassesbackon thebridgeofhis nose and glanced atFloyd, which didn’t seem tomakehimfeelanybetter.“Ofcourse. Which one are youlookingfor?”

Link frowned. There wasonly one logical place,considering it was Liv. “Thebiggestone.”

Link stared at the enormousbuilding,which lookedaboutthe size of aNewYorkCityblock. ItmadeGatlinCountyLibrary back home look likean outhouse. He turned toFloyd.

“You really think thatwhole place is fulla books?Likethepaperkind?”

She shrugged. “Only onewaytofindout.”

They fell into line behind

a group of girls who wereprobably students. They allhadBritishaccents,andLinkwasn’t sure what they weretalking about. Even if it didseemlikeascenerightoutofamovieoraTVshow.

Link had spent enoughtime watching Batman toknow the building wasGothic.

Like,GothamCitygothic.This place could be Wayne

Manor.Withspiresliningtheroof

that looked like serratedswords, it remindedhimof afancy church from the coverof one of those historytextbooks he’d neverbothered to open. But thebuilding had the sameintimidating and creepypresence as RavenwoodManor, Ridley’s uncle’splantationhouseinGatlin.

They followed thestudents through thecourtyard and into the mainbuilding. One by one, thestudents swiped what lookedlike ID cards to open theelectronic turnstile. Linkstopped when he reached it.“Crap. You need some kindofcardthingytogetin.NeversawthatatHogwarts.”

“Just hop over,” Floydsaid.“NewYork–style.”

The turnstile was onlywaist-high, but there werelotsofpeoplearound,andheand Floyd weren’t exactlyinconspicuous.

Someone cleared theirthroat behind them. “Excuseme,” a guy said with anEnglishaccent,holdinganIDcardinhishand.

“Sorry,” Link said,backing up. “We were justtryin’togetin.”

The English guy gavethem the once-over. “Onlystudents have access to thelibrary,unlessyouapplyforaReader’s Card.” He pointedbehind them. “But you canbuy tickets for the tour overthere,nexttotheGreatGate.”

“Thanks.”Link tuggedonFloyd’s arm. “Let’s gettickets. Then we’ll ditch thetouroncewegetinside.”

By the time they made it

through the line and reachedthe ticket counter, Link wasgetting antsy. “Two tickets,please.” He opened hiswallet.“Ma’am.”

“Seventeen pounds,” theclerksaid.“Sterling.”

Linklookedatthetwenty-dollar bill in his hand.Everythingwasdifferentoverhere,includingthemoney.

He swallowed. “Yeah,okay, Mrs. Sterling, ma’am.

Couldyougivemeaminute?I gotta find some cash.” HelookedatFloyd,loweringhisvoice.“Jeez.Howmuchcashweighs seventeen pounds?That’s more than LucilleBall.”

“You’re a regular posterboy for the Mortal schoolsystem,aren’tyou?”

Floyd rolled her eyes andplucked the bill out of hishand.Asshesliditacrossthe

counter to the clerk, Link’stwenty transformed into aweird-lookingpurplebillwiththe number twenty in thecorner.

“Here you are,” thewoman said, pushing theticketsbacktowardthem.

Link grinned as theywalked away. Having anIllusionist around was prettyhandy.HenudgedFloydwithhisshoulder.“Nicetrick.”

“What, that?” She tuggedonthehemofherconcertteesheepishly. “Please. I wasdoing that in kindergarten.WaituntilyouseewhatIcandowithacreditcard.”

“I’m thinkin’ about whatyou coulda done with myreportcards.”

They joined the group oftouristsgatheredinfrontofaguide, who was just gettingstarted. “With one hundred

andtwentymilesofoccupiedshelving and twenty-ninereading rooms, the BodleianLibrary is the UK’s secondlargest library.Thelargest is,of course, the BritishLibrary.”

“Aren’t they all British?”Linklookedconfused.

Floydclappedahandoverhismouth.“Shutit.”

The guide usheredeveryone up a narrow flight

of stairs that spilled into along room, filled floor toceilingwithbooks.

Link stared up at thepainted panels that ran thelengthoftheroom,withdarkwood beams stretchinghorizontallybelowthem.Thebookcases were made fromthe same wood, with roundpillarsdividingthem,likethefancy bookcases in Ridley’suncle’sstudy.

Whole rooms just for oldbooks.

It made no sense. Youcouldn’t fill one room withLink’s favorite books, letaloneawholebuilding.Thereweren’t thatmanyStarWarsnovelsintheworld.

“This is Duke Humfrey’sLibrary, the oldest readingroom in the Bodleian,” thetour guide said. “It housesmaps, music, and rare books

datingbefore 1641.Youwillnotice that many of thevolumes are chained to theshelves.Priortotheinventionof the printing press, bookswerequitedifficulttoreplaceand were, therefore,extremely valuable. Thechains are long enough toallow people to read thebooks, while assuring theyremainedinthelibrary,wheretheybelonged.”

Linkpointedatthechains.“They lock thebooksup likethe leather jackets in theSummerville Mall. Thinkthey’ve got Harry Potter inthere?”

Floydfrownedandpushedherblondhairoutofhereyes.“We need to figure out howwe’re gonna ditch this tourandfindyourfriend.”

The tour guide led thetourists down the hall, and

Link grabbed Floyd’s arm,stoppingher.

“Let them get ahead ofus,”hewhispered,noddingatanearbystaircase.

When the last person inthe group reached the end ofthe hallway, Link grabbedFloyd’s hand and pulled herup the steps. But he didn’ttake into account how muchfaster a quarter Incubusmoved than a Caster, and

when he rounded the cornerthree flights up, themomentum sent her flyingintohischest.

She was staring up atLink, trying to catch herbreath, when a guy walkedby.TheguytookonelookatFloydpressedupagainsthimand gave Link a nod ofapproval.

Link felt his face gettinghot.

Floyd stepped away fromhim, smoothing her T-shirt.“It’s nice to see there aredirtbags in the UnifiedKingdom,too.”

Linkgaveherthesmallesthintofasmile.“Iguesswhenit comes to dirtbags, it reallyisasmallworldafterall.”

Linkfollowedherthroughthe doorway and into a hugelibrary. Stacks of bookstowered above him, like the

ones in the Caster Library,theLunaeLibri.Except thesewere even dustier. In thecenter of a large room,students were studying atlongtables,whileothersreadin carrels. He scanned thetables, searching for Liv’sblond braids. There was nosign of her, but Link spottedsomeone who looked likeJohn—if John had been ahugenerd.

Abigguywithshortblackhair exactly like John’s wassitting alone at one of thetables across the room. Butinstead of John’s usual blackT-shirt and leathermotorcycle jacket, this guywas wearing a nerdy bluebutton-down beat-the-crap-outta-me shirt that Johnwould never have beencaughtdeadin.

Thatcan’tbehim.

“Why are you staring? Isthathim?”Floydwhispered.

“I’mnotsure.Butifitis,Ithink we’re caught in theMatrix.”Linkwalkedovertothe table and the nerdy guywhohewasn’tsurewasJohn—until the guy held up hishand and Link saw John’sBinding Ring glowingbrightly.Thentheguylookedup, and Link saw his Castergreen eyes and the

embarrassed expression onhisface.

“Iknewitwasyou,”Linksaid. “Holy crap.” Hegrinned.“It’slikeInvasionofthe Body Snatchers, excepttheyonlystoleyourclothes.Ihope.”

John grinned and pushedup the sleeves of his button-down, like that wouldsomehowmakeitlookcooler.“It’s for Liv. To help her fit

in.”“Yeah? How’s that

workin’foryou?”Linkraisedaneyebrow.

John shrugged, and Linkmessed up his hair. “Keeptellin’ yourself that, man.”Link cracked an imaginarywhipintheairwithonehand.

John shoved him away,studying Floyd. “Are yougonnaintroduceyourfriend?”He said it casually enough,

but Link understoodwhat hewas really saying. At least,whathewasasking.

“Yeah, sorry. This isFloyd.”

“A Dark Caster?” Johnasked,asifhecouldseerightthrough the colored contactsFloyd wore when she wasaroundMortals.

“Is that a problem?” sheasked.

“Fine by me. I’ve seen

Linkwith a Dark Caster girlbefore.” John turned to Linkandraisedaneyebrow.

“She plays bass in myband,” Link said, hoping themessage was equally clear:Dude,longstory.Don’task.

“Our band,” Floyd said,annoyed. “Which doesn’texistanymore.”

“The infamousSirensong?” John looked atLink. “Does that have

anything to do with thereasonyou’rehere?Speakingof which, where’s ourfavoriteSiren?”

Link’s expressiondarkened. “That’s the thing.Rid’sintrouble.”

Orworse.Link leftout thatpart.He

could barely stand to thinkabout the possibility thatRidley was dead. There wasno way he could say it to

John.John sighed and leaned

back in his chair. “Is thatsupposedtosurpriseme?”

“It’s not that kindatrouble.Thisisserious.”

“It’salwaysserious.”Floyd spoke up. “She’s

missing, and we think SilasRavenwoodmighthaveher.”

“What?”Johnfrozeat themention of Silas’ name. Hehad more history with the

Ravenwoods than any ofthem. “How did she getmixedupwithSilas?”

“He was lookin’ for me.You and me, really. Hewanted to avengeAbraham’sdeath,andkeepRidinacage,or somethin’ like that. ThistoolNoxGates sold us out,”Link rambled on, barelytaking a breath. “We almostgot away, but they found us.Therewasacarcrash,andthe

Beatercaughtonfire.Idon’tknowwhat happened to Rid,butwe’reprettysureSilashasher. He’s the head of theCaster Mafia or somethin’like that. So I need you tohelpmefindthelabs.”

“Slow down,” John said.“I’m gonna need more thantheCliffsNotes.”

Floyd put her hand onLink’sarm.“I’vegotthis.”

Henodded, and she filled

in the missing pieces of thestoryforJohn.Linkwasonlyhalf-listening. Now thatthey’d found John, all hecould thinkaboutwassavingRidley.

AssoonasFloydfinished,Link jumped in again. “Sowillyouhelpusfindher?”

John unbuttoned his beat-the-crap-outta-me-and-shove-me-in-a-locker shirt and tookitoff.“Consideringwe’rethe

ones Silas wants, it onlyseems right.” He balled upthe shirt and tossed it on thefloor.

Link was relieved to seethatJohnwaswearingablackT-shirt underneath. Floydlooked disappointed he waswearing a shirt at all. Linkhad almost forgotten theeffectJohnhadongirls.

John picked up abackpack. “Meet me at the

King’sArmspubinanhour.Ican’t takeoffwithout talkingtoLivfirst.”

“TheKing’sLegs.Gotit.”Linkheldupa fist. “Thanks,man.”

“I’d help you even if weweren’t the reason Rid wasmixed up with Silas. We’refriends.”Johnbumpedhisfistagainst Link’s, which toldLinktheonlythingheneededtoknow.

He’sin.

Getting out of the BodleianLibrarywas a lot easier thangettingin.

The pub John mentionedwasrightacrossthestreet,soLink and Floyd headedstraight there. Even thoughFloydwas pretty skinny, shewasalwayshungry,andLink

didn’t want to risk gettinglost. Everything over herewas sort of crazy; betweenthe accents and the carsdriving on thewrong side ofthe road, Oxford almost feltlike somewhere out of theCasterworld.

“It looks like a niceplace,” Floyd said as theyapproached a pinkish-peach-colored building with whitewindowpanes and black

lanterns hanging on bothsidesofthedoor.

Link glanced down at hisBlack Sabbath T-shirt andjeans. “Hopefully not toonice.” He sighed. “What arewe doin’ wastin’ our time?Wegottago.”

Floyd dropped a hand onhisarm.It feltwarmandfulloflife,likeFloydalwaysdid.“Chill out. Your buddy saidan hour. We might as well

eat.”Linkmadeaface.“Right.” She shrugged. “I

mightaswelleat.”Inside, the King’s Arms

was all dark paneling andvintage signs. A formalwooden bar dominated themain room, with liquorbottles stacked neatly on theshelvesbehindthebartender.

Floyd grabbed a table inthe corner, next to the

window, and dropped downinto one of the plain ladder-back chairs. Link glanced atthe menu on the table andscrunched up his nose.“Traditional ploughman’slunch and fish cakes? Scotcheggs? Mushy peas? What isthisjunk?”

Floyd studied the menu.“It looks like the traditionalploughman’s is a plate ofbread, pickle, apples, and

cheese.”“Pickle, cheese, and

bread?” Link shook his headand pulled a pen out of hispocket. “I’m glad I don’t eatanymore.”

Shestoodupwithamenuin her hand. “Don’t knock ittill you’ve tried it. I’mgoingto order at the bar. I assumeyoudon’twantanything.”

Link lookedaroundat theother tables covered with

plates of food. “Get me aCoke or somethin’. Youknow,soIdon’tlookweird.”

Floyd smiled. “The Cokewon’thelp.”

“Yeah? Just don’t letanyone put an egg in myScotch,andI’llbefine.”Linkwatchedherwalkover to thebar like shewas just anotherstudent.

Linkgrabbedanapkinandscrawled some lyrics across

it. Ever since Sampson andNox found him in the treesafter theaccident,songlyricshad been floating around inhis head. The only problemwas,theysucked—whichwasa new thing for him. He’dbeenwritingsongsforaslongas he could remember, abouteverything from his lunch toall the times Ridley hadbroken his heart. Until now,he was pretty sure his lyrics

hadkickedass.He stared down at the

black lines stretching acrossthenapkin.

What if I can’t writeanymore?

Therewereprobablya lotofthingshewouldn’tbeableto do anymore withoutRidley. She was more thanjust his girl—she was hismuse. It felt like everythingstartedandendedwithher.

Lose. Muse.Bruise.Why you gotta getme so confuse?Like I lost myfavorite pair ashoes…

Hedroppedthepen.I suck. I can’t do this

without Rid. I just gotta findher.

“What are you doing?”Floyd asked as she put hisCokedownonthetable.“Areyouwritingasong?Anythinggood?”

He crumpled up thenapkin and shoved it in hispocket.“Naw.Ihaven’tbeenable to write since I lost…her.”

Floyd seemed to take thecomment in stride and satdown.Butifhe’dlearnedone

thing about girls in the pastyear, itwas that they usuallyweren’t thinking whateveryouthoughttheywere.Floydhad that weird look on herface again, the one whereLink couldn’t tell if she wasgoingtolaughorcry.

Girls.“Ridley’slucky,”shesaid.

“Youstickwithhernomatterwhat she does, or how badshe screws up. I wish

someone felt that way aboutme.”

“Rid doesn’t mean tomessup.Atleast,notmostofthetime,”Linksaid.

Floydrolledhereyes.“Deepdown,she’sagood

person,” he said. “She justdoesn’t want anybody toknow.”

“Thatmakesnosense.”“Itdoes tome.Shehad it

roughgrowingup.”

“Everyone had it roughgrowingup,”Floydsaid.

“Yeah? After Rid turnedDark, her own motherwouldn’teventakeherin.”

Floyd nodded as if sheunderstood, but herexpression said otherwise.“You don’t have to tell meabout having a crappychildhood. My dad is thehead of a Dark Caster bikeclub in the Underground,

remember?”“Ican’tevengetmyhead

around that,”Link said. “Mymomwouldn’tletmetakeoffmytrainin’wheelsuntilIwasten,andmydadspentmostofhis free time at Civil Warreenactments—mainly toavoid her.” He shrugged. “Ican’t blame him. All thatprayin’ and fussin’ gets onyournervesprettyfast,andifnaggin’ was an Olympic

sport, my mom woulda wonthe gold medal for sure.Drape a flag over herhousecoat and skip thatwomanstraighttothevictorylapnow.”

A waitress walked up tothetablewithanunappetizingplate ofmismatched food onit, at leastas farasLinkwasconcerned. “One traditionalploughman’s,” she said.“Cheers.”

Floyd popped a piece ofcheese in her mouth. “It’sactuallygood.Besttraditionalploughman’sIeverhad.”

“I’ll take your word forit,”hesaid.“Butwhere’s theplow?”

She stared at him. Heshrugged. “Mortal food alltastesthesametome.”

Floyd nodded and turnedher attention to her food. Itseemedliketalkingabouther

dadbotheredher,soLinkleftit alone and went back towriting crappy songs onnapkins.

By the time Link finishedwriting his fourth song andFloyd had moved on tomushy peas and french friescalledchips—whichmadenosensetohim—hewasstarting

to worry that John wasn’tgoingtoshow.Hewasaboutto bring it up to Floydwhenthe front door of the pubopened and he caught aglimpseof thefamiliarblondbraids.

Liv, John’s girlfriend andLink’s friend before that,looked exactly the way heremembered her: blond andtall.

TDB.ThirdDegreeBurns

hot.That was what Link had

saidthefirsttimehesawher.It seemedweird now that heonly thought of Liv as hisfriendandJohn’sgirl.

EvenifshewasJohn’shotgirlfriend.

Liv was wearing theperiodic table of elementsT-shirt she’d had on when hemet her. It only took her amoment to zero in on Link,

and he could tell from thelook on her face that shewasn’t happy. She headedtowardhim,armscrossedandscowling, with John behindher.

Sorry,Johnmouthed.“WesleyLincoln.”Theonlypersonwhoever

calledhimthatwashismom,anditwasneveragoodsign.Livfollowedwithatighthugthat was equal parts

intimidating and affectionate.Link backed out of it asquicklyashecould.

Hesmelleddanger.Liv pulled out the chair

across from Link and satdown, glancing at Floyd.“Olivia Durand. I apologizeinadvanceformyfoulmood.I’dliketothinkI’mnormallyrather personable.” Sheturned to Link. “But Iunderstand you want to take

John with you to go afterSilasRavenwood.”

“Aw, Liv,” Link began.“It’sjust—”

She held up a hand.“Hencethemood.”

Johnsatdownnext toherandputhishandon thebackofherchair.

She pushed it off andglaredathim,thenturnedherattention back to Link.“CorrectmeifI’mwrong,but

Abraham Ravenwood almostkilledbothofyou—allofus,really.”

“Well, you’re not sowrong—”

“Andnowyouwanttogoafter his great-great-grandson?”Livasked.“Whatpart of this seems like asensibleideatoyou?”

Link tried again. “Notexactlysensible—”

“I told you, Ridley’s in

trouble,”Johnsaid.“I want to hear it from

Link,”shesaidwithouttakinghereyesoffLink.“Whatkindof trouble are we talkingabout, precisely?” She heldup her ring. “And why didthis only go off on yourbehalf,ratherthanRidley’s?”

Linksighed.Therewasnopoint trying to pull punchesonLiv.Shewastoosmartforherowngood.

Andmine.He didn’t really know

where to begin, so he justplunged right in. “SilasRavenwood knows that meandJohnkilledhisgranddad,Abraham, and he wants usdead: me, John—and Lenaand Rid for helping us.Maybe you and Ethan, too.I’m not sure. But he’s thehead a the Syndicate—it’slike the Mob of the

Underground.”“That’s an

understatement,” Floydadded.

“Technically, it’s astatement.” Liv silenced herwith one look. “And I’veheard about the Syndicatefrom the Keepers trainingme.”

“It’s bad, Liv.” Link lethimselfsoundasmiserableashefelt.“Iwouldn’tbehereif

itwasn’t.He’sgotathingforSirens. And Rid’s missin’. Idon’t know what he’s gonnado to her if we don’t findher.”

Liv’sexpressionsoftened.She glanced at the strange-looking device on her wrist.Link hadn’t seen herselenometer in so long thathe’d almost forgotten aboutit.Itlookedlikeacrazyblackwatch, but Link knew it

measured all kinds of stuff,like the moon’s gravitationalpull.

She’duseditbefore,whenthingswerealmost thisgrim.The sight of it brought backall kinds of crazy, terriblememories.

Helookedaway.“You and Ridley should

never have gone to NewYork. I had a bad feelingabout it from thebeginning,”

Liv said. “I never should’vehelped you fake thatacceptance letter.” Liv hadbeen a key part of Link’sEscape from Gatlin plan,especially the part thatinvolved a little forgery andthe invention of a fictionalBible college namedGeorgiaRedeemer.

Linkturnedred.“Wait a minute,” Floyd

said. “What was Link

supposed to do, just give uphis dream? Ridley basicallysoldhiminacardgame,andLinkdidn’tevenknowit.It’snot like she’s an angel. Iwatchedithappen.”

“Excuse me?” Liv staredat Floyd for a longmom