Beautiful Creatures

by Kami Garcia

  It’s not the house that protects her. No Caster can come between them.

  How could I have been so stupid? It wasn’t a question of whether or not I had some kind of power. It was never about me. It was about us.

  The power was what was between us, what had always been between us. Finding each other on Route 9 in the rain. Turning the same way at the fork in the road. It didn’t take a Binding Cast to keep us together. Now that they had managed to separate us, I was powerless. And Lena was alone, on the night she needed me with her the most.

  I couldn’t think clearly. I was out of time, and I wasn’t going to lose one more person I loved. I ran toward my dad, and even though it was just a few feet, it felt like I was running through quicksand. I saw Ridley step forward, her hair twisting in the wind like Medusa’s whole head of snakes.

  I saw Link step forward and grab her shoulder. “Rid, don’t do it.”

  For a split second, I had no idea what was going to happen. I saw everything in slow motion.

  My dad turned to look back at me.

  I saw him start to let go of the railing.

  I saw Ridley’s pink and blond strands twisting.

  And I saw Link standing in front of her, staring into those golden eyes, whispering something I couldn’t hear. She looked at Link, and without another word, her lollipop went sailing over the railing. I watched it arc down to the ground below, exploding like shrapnel. It was over.

  As quickly as my father had turned away from the railing, he turned back toward it, toward me. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward, over the railing and onto the balcony floor. He fell in a crumpled heap, and lay there looking up at me like a frightened child.

  “Thank you, Ridley. I mean, whatever that was. Thanks.”

  “I don’t want your thanks,” she sneered, pulling away from Link and adjusting the strap of her top. “I didn’t do either of you a favor. I just didn’t feel like killing him. Today.”

  She tried to sound menacing, but she ended up just sounding childish. She twirled a pink strand of hair. “Though that’s not gonna make some people too happy.” She didn’t have to say who, but I could see the fear in her eyes. For a second, I could see how much of her persona was just an act. Smoke and mirrors.

  Despite everything, even now, as I tried to pull my father to his feet, I felt sort of sorry for her. Ridley could have any guy on the planet, and yet all I could see was how alone she was. She wasn’t nearly as strong as Lena was, not inside.

  Lena.

  Lena, are you okay?

  I’m fine. What’s wrong?

  I looked at my father. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, and he was having trouble standing.

  Nothing. Are you with Larkin?

  Yes, we’re headed back to Ravenwood. Is your dad okay?

  He’s fine. I’ll explain when I get there.

  I slid my arm under my dad’s shoulder, while Link grabbed his other side.

  Stay with Larkin, and get back inside with your family. You’re not safe alone.

  Before we could even take a step, Ridley sauntered by us, back through the open balcony doors, those ten-mile legs stepping across the threshold. “Sorry, boys. I gotta jet, maybe head back to New York for a while, lay low. It’s cool.” She shrugged.

  Even though she was a monster, Link couldn’t help but watch her go. “Hey, Rid?”

  She stopped and turned to look at him, almost ruefully. Like she couldn’t help what she was any more than a shark could help being a shark, but if she could…

  “Yeah, Shrinky Dink?”

  “You’re not all bad.”

  She looked right at him and almost smiled. “You know what they say. Maybe I’m just drawn that way.”

  2.11

  Family Reunion

  Once my dad was safely in the hands of the reenactment medics, I couldn’t get back to the party fast enough. I pushed past the girls from Jackson, who had ditched jackets, and were looking skanky in their tank tops and baby tees, gyrating to the music of the Holy Rollers. Minus Link who, to his credit, was right on my heels. It was loud. Live band loud. Live ammo loud. So loud that I almost didn’t hear Larkin’s voice calling me.

  “Ethan, over here!” Larkin was standing in the trees just past the reflective yellow rope that separated the Safe Zone from the You-Could-Get-Your-Butt-Shot-Off-If-You-Cross-This-Line Zone. What was he doing in the woods, past the Safe Zone? Why wasn’t he back at the house? I waved to him and he motioned me over, disappearing behind the rise. Usually jumping that rope would’ve been a tough choice, but not today. I had no choice but to follow him. Link was right behind me, stumbling, but still somehow keeping up with me, just the way it used to be.

  “Hey, Ethan.”

  “Yeah?”

  “About Rid, I should’ve listened.”

  “It’s okay, man. You couldn’t help it. I should’ve told you everything.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I wouldn’t have believed you.”

  The sound of gunfire echoed over our heads. We both ducked, instinctively.

  “Hope those are blanks,” Link said nervously. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if my own dad shot me out here?”

  “With my luck lately, it wouldn’t surprise me if he shot us both.”

  We reached the top of the rise. I could see the thicket of brush, the oaks, and the smoke of the artillery field beyond us.

  “We’re over here!” Larkin called, from the other side of the thicket. By the “we,” I could only assume he meant him and Lena, so I ran faster. Like Lena’s life depended on it, because for all I knew maybe it did.

  Then I realized where we were. There was the archway to the garden at Greenbrier. Larkin and Lena were standing in the clearing, just beyond the garden, in the same place where we had dug up Genevieve’s grave a few weeks ago. A few feet behind them, a figure stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. It was dark, but the full moon was right over us.

  I blinked. It was—It was—

  “Mom, what the heck are you doin’ out here?” Link was confused.

  Because his mom was standing in front of us, Mrs. Lincoln, my worst nightmare, or at least in my top ten. She looked strangely in—or out of—place, depending on how you looked at it. She was wearing ridiculous volumes of petticoats and the stupid calico dress that cinched her waist way too tightly. And she was standing right at Genevieve’s grave. “Now, now. You know how I feel about profanity, young man.”

  Link rubbed his head. This made no sense at all, not to him, and not to me.

  Lena, what’s happening?

  Lena?

  There was no response. Something was wrong.

  “Mrs. Lincoln, are you okay?”

  “Delightful, Ethan. Isn’t it a wonderful battle? And Lena’s birthday, too, she tells me. We’ve been waiting for you, at least, one of you.”

  Link stepped closer. “Well, I’m here now, Mom. I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t be out past the Safe Zone. You’re gonna get your head blown off. You know what a bad shot Dad is.”

  I grabbed Link’s arm, holding him back. There was something wrong, something about the way she was smiling at us. Something about the panicked look on Lena’s face.

  What’s going on? Lena!

  Why wasn’t she answering me? I watched as Lena pulled my mom’s ring out of her sweatshirt and grabbed it by the chain in her hand. I could see her lips move in the darkness. I could barely hear something, only a whisper, in the far corner of my mind.

  Ethan, get out of here! Get Uncle Macon! Run!

  But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t leave her.

  “Link, Angel, you are such a thoughtful boy.”

  Link? It wasn’t Mrs. Lincoln standing in front of us. It couldn’t be.

  Mrs. Lincoln would no more call Wesley Jefferson Lincoln “Link” than she would streak through the streets naked. “Why you would use that ridiculous nickname when you have such a dignified name, I cannot imagine,” she’d say every time one of us accidentally calle
d her house and asked for Link.

  Link felt my hand on his arm and stopped. It was starting to register with him, too; I could see it on his face. “Mom?”

  “Ethan, get out of here! Larkin, Link, somebody, go get Uncle Macon!” Lena was screaming. She couldn’t stop. She looked more frightened than I’d ever seen her. I ran toward her.

  I could hear the sound of a shell being released from a cannon. Then a sudden flurry of gunfire.

  My back slammed into something, hard. I felt my head crack and everything sort of went out of focus for a second.

  “Ethan!” I could hear Lena’s voice, but I couldn’t move. I’d been shot. I was sure of it. I fought to stay conscious.

  After a few seconds, my eyes came back into focus. I was on the ground, my back against a massive oak. The gunshot must have thrown me backward into the tree. I felt around to see where I’d been hit, but there was no blood. I couldn’t find the bullet’s point of entry. Link was a few feet away, propped awkwardly against another tree. He looked just as out of it as I felt. I got to my feet, stumbling forward toward Lena, but my face slammed right into something and I ended up back on the ground. It felt just like the time I had walked into a sliding glass door at the Sisters’ house.

  I hadn’t been shot; this was something else. I’d been hit by a different kind of weapon.

  “Ethan!” Lena was screaming.

  I got up again and stepped forward slowly. There was a sliding glass door there all right, except this one was some kind of invisible wall encircling the tree and me. I banged on it and my fist smacked against it but it didn’t make a sound. I slammed my palms against it over and over. What else could I do? That’s when I noticed Link banging on his own invisible cage.

  Mrs. Lincoln smiled at me, with a smile more wicked than anything Ridley could muster on her best day.

  “Let them go!” Lena shrieked.

  Out of nowhere, the sky opened up and rain literally poured out of the clouds, like it was being dumped from a bucket. Lena. Her hair was waving wildly. The rain turned to sleet and fell sideways, attacking Mrs. Lincoln from every direction. In a matter of seconds, we were all soaked to the bone.

  Mrs. Lincoln, or whoever she was, smiled. There was something about her smile. She looked almost proud. “I’m not going to hurt them. I just want to give us some time to talk.” Thunder rumbled in the sky over her head. “I was hoping I would get a chance to see some of your talents. How I’ve regretted I wasn’t there to help you hone your gifts.”

  “Shut up, witch.” Lena was grim. I had never seen her green eyes like this, the steely way they were set on Mrs. Lincoln. Flint hard. Resolute. Full of hate and anger. She looked like she wanted to rip Mrs. Lincoln’s head off, and she looked like she could do it.

  I finally understood what Lena had been so worried about all year. She had the power to destroy. I had only seen the power to love. When you discovered you had both, who could figure out what to do with that?

  Mrs. Lincoln turned to Lena. “Wait until you realize what you can really do. How you can manipulate the elements. It’s the true gift of a Natural, something we have in common.”

  Something they had in common.

  Mrs. Lincoln looked up at the sky, the rain running down beside her as if she was holding an umbrella. “Right now you’re making rain showers, but soon you’ll learn to control fire as well. Let me show you. How I do like playing with fire.”

  Rain showers? Was she kidding? We were in the middle of a monsoon.

  Mrs. Lincoln held up her palm and lightning sliced through the clouds, electrifying the sky. She held up three fingers. Lightning erupted, with the flick of every manicured nail. Once. Lightning struck the ground, kicking up the dirt, two feet away from where Link was trapped. Twice. Lightning burned through the oak behind me, cleaving the trunk neatly in half. A third time. Lightning struck Lena, who simply held up her own outstretched hand. The flash of electricity ricocheted off her, landing instead at Mrs. Lincoln’s feet. The grass around her started to smolder and burn.

  Mrs. Lincoln laughed and waved her hand. The fires in the grass died out. She looked at Lena with a glint of pride. “Not bad. I’m happy to see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  It couldn’t be.

  Lena glared at her and turned up both palms, a protective stance. “Yeah? What do they say about the bad apple?”

  “Nothing. No one has ever lived to say it.” Then Mrs. Lincoln turned to Link and me in her calico dress and miles of petticoats, with her hair braided down her back. She looked right at us, her golden eyes blazing. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I hoped our first meeting would be under different circumstances. It’s not every day that you meet your daughter’s first boyfriend.”

  She turned to Lena. “Or your daughter.”

  I was right. I knew who she was, and what we were dealing with.

  Sarafine.

  A moment later, Mrs. Lincoln’s face, her dress, her whole body literally started to split down the middle. You could see the skin on either side pulling away like the crumpled wrapper of a candy bar. As her body split down the center, it started to fall like a coat being shrugged from someone’s shoulders. Underneath was someone else.

  “I don’t have a mother,” Lena shouted.

  Sarafine winced, as if she was trying to look hurt because she was Lena’s mother. It was an undeniable genetic truth. She had the same long, black, curly hair as Lena. Except, where Lena was frighteningly beautiful, Sarafine was simply frightening. Like Lena, Sarafine had long, elegant features, but instead of Lena’s beautiful green eyes, she had the same glowing yellow eyes as Ridley and Genevieve. And the eyes made all the difference.

  Sarafine was wearing a dark green corseted velvet dress, kind of modern and Gothic and turn-of-the-century, all at the same time, and tall black motorcycle boots. She literally stepped out of Mrs. Lincoln’s body, which fused back together within seconds, as if someone had sewn up the seam. Leaving the real Mrs. Lincoln collapsed in the grass with her hoopskirt flipped up, revealing her knee-high support hose and her petticoats.

  Link was in shock.

  Sarafine straightened, shaking free of the weight, shuddering. “Mortals. That body was just insufferable, so awkward and uncomfortable. Stuffing its face every five minutes. Disgusting creatures.”

  “Mom! Mom, wake up!” Link pounded his fists against what was obviously some kind of force field. No matter what a dragon she was, Mrs. Lincoln was Link’s dragon, and it must have been hard to see her tossed aside like a piece of inconsequential human trash.

  Sarafine waved her hand. Link’s mouth was still moving, but he wasn’t making a sound. “That’s better. You’re lucky I didn’t have to spend all my time in your mother’s body over the last few months. If I had, you’d be dead by now. I can’t tell you the number of times I nearly killed you out of boredom at the dinner table, droning on about your stupid band.”

  It all made sense now. The crusade against Lena, the Jackson Disciplinary Committee meeting, the lies about Lena’s school records, even the weird brownies on Halloween. How long had Sarafine been masquerading as Mrs. Lincoln?

  In Mrs. Lincoln.

  I had never really understood what we were up against until now. The Darkest Caster living today. Ridley seemed so harmless in comparison. No wonder Lena had been dreading this day for so long.

  Sarafine looked back at Lena. “You may think you don’t have a mother, Lena, but if that’s true, it’s only because your grandmother and your uncle took you from me. I’ve always loved you.” It was disconcerting how Sarafine could move so easily from one set of emotions to another, from sincerity and regret to disgust and contempt, each emotion as hollow as the next.

  Lena’s eyes were bitter. “Is that why you’ve been trying to kill me, Mother?”

  Sarafine tried to look concerned, or maybe surprised. It was hard to tell because her expression looked so unnatural, so forced. “Is that what they told you? I was simply trying to make contact�
�to talk to you. If it hadn’t been for all their Bindings, my attempts would never have put you in any danger, a fact they knew. Of course, I understand their concern. I am a Dark Caster, a Cataclyst. But Lena, you know as well as anyone, I had no choice in that matter. It was decided for me. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you, about my only daughter.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Lena spat. But she looked unsure of herself, even as she said it, like she wasn’t sure what to believe.

  I checked my cell phone. 9:59. Two hours until midnight.

  Link slumped against the tree, his head in his hands. I couldn’t look away from Mrs. Lincoln, lifeless in the grass. Lena was looking at her, too.

  “She’s not, you know. Is she?” I had to know, for Link’s sake.

  Sarafine tried to look sympathetic. But I could tell she was losing interest in Link and me, which wasn’t good for either of us. “She’ll return to her previously unappealing state soon. Nauseating woman. I’m not interested in her or the boy. I was only trying to show my daughter the true nature of Mortals. How easily they can be influenced, how vindictive they are.” She turned to Lena. “Just a few words from Mrs. Lincoln and look how easily this whole town turned on you. You don’t belong in their world. You belong with me.”

  Sarafine turned to Larkin. “Speaking of unappealing states, Larkin, why don’t you show us those baby blues, I mean yellows?”

  Larkin smiled and squeezed his eyes shut, reaching his arms over his head like he was stretching after a long nap. But when he opened his eyes again, something was different. He blinked wildly, and with each blink his eyes began to change. You could almost see the molecules rearranging. Larkin transformed, and there standing in his place was a pile of snakes. The snakes began to coil and climb onto each other, until Larkin emerged once again from the twisting heap. He held out his two rattlesnake arms that hissed and crawled back into his leather jacket until they became his hands. Then he opened his eyes. But instead of the green eyes I was used to seeing, Larkin stared back at us with the same golden eyes as Sarafine and Ridley. “Green never was my color. One of the perks of bein’ an Illusionist.”