Dangerous Creatures

by Kami Garcia

  “What are you sayin’?” Link looked even more confused than usual.

  “Nothing,” Ridley snapped. She looked at his bandmates, meaningfully. Don’t even think about it.

  Necro shook her head. “It’s not nothing. You need to tell him—”

  Floyd cut in. “Your girlfriend took down our drummer and crossed a badass dude in a big card game, and—”

  “Won. I beat him.” Ridley looked up at Link. “Believe me, Hot Rod. I was as surprised as you are.”

  “Yeah, right,” said Floyd. “And then unicorns flew out of your ass.” She twisted two fingers into a unicorn horn and held it up to her forehead.

  “How did you know? It’s my specialty.” Ridley glared at Floyd, desperately wishing she would shut up. Then Rid turned back to Link. Believe me, she thought. You have to believe me.

  “Come on, Ridley. That’s not what happened,” Necro began.

  Link started to waver. “What went on that night? You never actually told me anything about it. One minute, you took off for Europe, the next thing I hear you’re in that club in New York. Then suddenly you show up in Gatlin, actin’ all kinds a sorry, and you just happen to know a band that needs a drummer? Since when do you even know bands?”

  Ridley started to panic. Think fast. “What does it matter? I went out. I met the band. Their drummer sucked, and he left. They needed a new one. We made a deal at the club. End of story. That’s it.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that? Are you hiding something? Were you with someone? Is that what this is about?” Link looked like he might lose it, right there on the street.

  “We were broken up!” She backpedaled when she saw the pain in his eyes. “Why would you even think that?” Ridley gave up trying to explain. She didn’t want to Charm Link, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have a choice. Unfortunately for him, she did have a lollipop. Her fingers began to fumble for it in her pocket.

  No magic. You promised. No Siren stuff.

  She hesitated, but only for a second.

  Who am I kidding?

  Ridley smiled up at Link. “Of course not. I know you believe me. That’s all that matters.” As she spoke, she felt the candy wrapper come off in her fingers. You know I’m right, Shrinky Dink.

  “Of course I believe you. It’s just—”

  “You’re worried because you care about me and you want me to be happy.” Her fingers curled around the lollipop. You want me to be happy, Hot Rod.

  “That’s all I want, darlin’.”

  “But I know that deep down, you trust me.” And you absolutely really truly believe me, Wesley Lincoln.

  She held her breath. She hadn’t tried anything like this on Link in a long, long time. He didn’t like it, and she didn’t blame him. Truthfully, she didn’t really like it, either.

  Link smiled at her. “You know I do, Babe.”

  She smiled back. “I know.” Let’s go to the gig, Link.

  He took her hand. “Now let’s go get us a gig, Sugarplum.”

  As they walked away, Ridley tried not to think about what she had just done.

  It worked, didn’t it?

  But if it was all for the best, why do I feel so bad?

  She ducked her head and tried not to see their faces everywhere she looked. If she let herself remember, they’d fall from the sky like so many autumn leaves. Hundreds. Thousands. The people she’d Charmed. The men she’d destroyed. The boys who had worshipped her. The women who had hated her.

  Do I really want to add Wesley Lincoln to that pile of burning leaves?

  Have I crossed a line?

  Ridley wished Lena was here. She would know—and she’d tell Ridley, too. Lena was Ridley’s barometer; she always had been.

  What would Lena say now?

  Ridley let her hand slip from Link’s grasp. He and Sampson began talking about the set list and walked ahead of her. Rid fell back, trying not to think about it. She had bigger problems to think about than Charming one more hybrid Incubus.

  “Hey, Siren.”

  Necro grabbed Ridley by the arm. She waited until the boys were out of earshot. “When this is over,” she said, “we’re going to have a little girl talk. Heart to Dark heart.” Any goodwill between them was now long gone.

  Floyd shot Ridley a nasty look. “She’d have to have a heart to do that.”

  “Why would I want one of those?” Ridley didn’t smile.

  Floyd leaned in. “I guess anyone desperate enough to Charm their own boyfriend really wouldn’t understand, would they?”

  “You know. Linky Charms.” Necro shrugged. “I hear he’s magically delicious. Oblivious, but delicious.”

  Ridley couldn’t believe she’d thought this lame little faux-hawked dead detector was her friend.

  I’m a Siren. What do they expect? Nobody gets in between a Siren and her sailor. They should know that by now.

  Maybe it was time for Ridley to remind them.

  “Patty,” said Ridley, grabbing Floyd by the arm with her own long, red nails. “And Duane,” she said, grabbing Necro, with the same fierceness. “Let’s us girls get a little something straight. You ever try to turn my boyfriend against me again, and it will be a whole lot more than a girl talk. It’ll be a catfight.” Ridley leaned in. “Claws out.”

  “Meowch,” Necro said, her gaze unwavering. Floyd said nothing. “No one messes with our bandmates, Rid. You don’t get it, because you’re not in the band. It’s the line you don’t cross.”

  Alone. On the curb. She got it.

  Only, at this particular moment, Ridley Duchannes didn’t care what anyone else had to say about it.

  She didn’t miss a beat. “I admit I can’t control Sampson,” she said. “But I can make the two of you fall in love with every stray pit bull from here to New Jersey, and don’t think I won’t do it. It’s a Siren thing.”

  “And don’t be surprised when every single one of them suddenly looks just like your cutie-pie boyfriend.” Floyd pulled her arm away. “Illusionist thing.” She smirked and took off after Sampson.

  Cutie-pie boyfriend?

  I will take you down.

  Necro shook her head. “Now you’ve done it. Never screw with an Illusionist. They say you won’t know what hit you. Literally.”

  “Bite me,” whispered Ridley. “I’m not scared of you.”

  “Believe me,” Necro whispered back, “you don’t get it.” The Necromancer stepped closer until she was almost breathing in Ridley’s ear. “If my dreams mean anything, I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

  Her last word raked the air between them.

  “Vindicabo.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Appetite for Destruction

  Lennox Gates kicked and shouted. A stream of unintelligible gibberish came from his mouth, but it was loud and urgent.

  So loud that he woke himself up.

  He sat up on his couch, groggy, and then flopped back down.

  Lennox was still wearing the clothes he’d had on when he came home from the club, early this morning. He’d been having nightmares again, courtesy of his friend on the other side, no doubt.

  Vexes.

  Vengeful manifestations from the Otherworld—black stretches of cold shadow had been everywhere. Swallowing up his friends, his family. Turning everything to fog and fear and doubt.

  They had swarmed his club, his apartment, even his house on the island. He couldn’t escape, and he couldn’t hide. He would never be free of them, not until they dragged him back down to the world they came from.

  Lennox Gates got the message. It didn’t require any actual words to articulate the threat of this ticking clock.

  He looked at his watch, cursing under his breath. He was late, and not just for his first appointment of the day, but for the other things he’d been asked to do. The sort of things he couldn’t exactly put on his calendar.

  Dark things. My specialty. How did that happen?

  He was on a short timer, and his associates were impa
tient. At least it was only a nightmare.

  For now.

  Then Lennox felt the hair on his arms stand up. His room turned cold, so cold that he could feel a new sharpness to the air in his throat with every breath.

  “What do you want?” His voice echoed through the empty room.

  Silence.

  “I know you’re there. You can come out now.”

  The shadows in his room seemed to convulse, as if the walls themselves were trying to catch their breath.

  The air churned around him.

  Now. It’s coming.

  Slowly, a black figure rose from the floor, materializing up from the rug as if it were being pulled into the Mortal world against its will. In reality, Lennox knew it was the reverse. The spirit was willing itself into this world—a difficult feat, almost Herculean.

  Vexes—real ones. Here. In my own apartment, for the very first time.

  Then Lennox had another thought, colder than the air around him.

  He’s getting closer.

  The apartment was the most Bound place Lennox knew of, with the exception of his club. The security in his building rivaled that of the UN building downtown. Stray Supernaturals were not welcome here, and neither were visitors from the Otherworld. Lennox would have thought it was impossible, if he hadn’t been dealing with the angriest dead headcase in five hundred years.

  He can get to me, anywhere I go.

  I’ll never be free of him.

  Lennox raised his voice. “Which is your point, right? I understand, old man. You’ll have your way, or I’m to join you down there?” He stood up, pacing across the room. “Your hybrid friend is going to show up at the club today, and your Siren is bound to follow. I’ve taken measures to incentivize them both. Have a little faith.”

  He knew he was asking the impossible, and he expected that his associate was laughing on the other side. Laughing, and making room for Lennox Gates in the Otherworld, right next to him.

  “I’m not stupid or suicidal. This display really isn’t necessary,” he said.

  But it is your style, he added silently. Or your name wouldn’t be Abraham Ravenwood. And I wouldn’t be in this bind.

  CHAPTER 15

  Rock of Ages

  As Link walked down the Brooklyn street with Sampson, he couldn’t remember what had been bothering him. Something had been, but it had slipped away. Ridley had that effect on him. A few words from her, and he almost always started feeling better. He’d almost have thought she was Charming him, except for the fact that she’d promised she wouldn’t.

  What kinda magic was that?

  Link gave up.

  To be honest, he didn’t really pay attention to a word anyone said after audition. It was like listening to a bunch of chickens squawking over a spilled bag of feed. Chickens or cheerleaders. The Jackson PTA, fightin’ over which book to ban. My mom on the way home from choir practice, full up with a fresh load a gossip. Link didn’t have much to say. At least, not to the chickens. His mind was on the audition.

  It was an awesome word, like overtime or front row or state finals. Cheese-in-the-crust or double-stuffed or supersized. Of all those words, audition was the granddaddy of them all. At least, Link was pretty sure it was.

  He’d never actually had one.

  Link didn’t audition for bands. He always made sure it was his band, so they had to take him. That was the secret of his success. But it didn’t help him now. He was terrified. Auditions were so good they were bad, so important they were paralyzing. Link’s adrenaline was pushing and pounding so hard he felt sick, same as when he tried to eat his mom’s red-eye gravy halfway through his transition from human to Incubus.

  Like he could blow chunks.

  Hope I don’t puke onstage. Marilyn Manson puked onstage. Wait. It’s cool, right? If Marilyn Manson did it?

  Link was lost in thought until he and Sampson met up with the girls outside a stairwell that led to a subway station.

  Don’t think about the audition. Crap, you thought about it, you dumbucket.

  “Earth to Link.” Floyd looked at Link. “You sick?”

  Link didn’t say anything. Not in front of her. Not in front of a girl. He tried to focus on the yellow police tape that sealed off the entrance to the stairs.

  “If you’re gonna puke, do it now,” Floyd said. “That’s all I’m sayin’. Remember Marilyn Manson.” She smiled. “That was a damn good hurl.”

  Link laughed, in spite of the bile in his throat. There weren’t a lot of girls like Floyd. Even Ridley could see that, which was probably why her feathers had been so ruffled ever since they’d gotten here. He had to admit he kind of liked the attention.

  That’s just life in the henhouse, he thought. Especially when the rooster’s as smooth as this guy right here.

  Floyd looked both ways and ducked inside the stairwell. The second she passed the yellow tape, she disappeared. The air rippled in her wake.

  Not something you’d see in any henhouse.

  “Is she Rippin’? ’Cause I didn’t hear anythin’.” Link looked at Necro.

  Necro shook her head. “Nope. Doorwell. You gotta look for the broken subway stops. They’re not actually broken. They’re ours.”

  “The regular old New York City subway? It’s also a Caster subway?”

  “The stops are. We rotate ours through the Mortal system, so it’s a different stop every time, all over the five boroughs. Whole system. Someone got the idea when we saw all the New York City utility blockades during the last big storm. So long as we stick to the broken stops, nobody sees us come and go. And nobody bothers us.”

  Link looked at her. “Doesn’t anyone ever wonder why there’s so many broken stops?”

  Necro smiled. “Who? Something’s always broken. This is New York. Now come on.” She disappeared as she said it, as if she’d explained something.

  Link scratched his head. It was hard for him to imagine, seeing as every time a porch light burned out in Gatlin, it practically made the news. At least, it made his mom’s personal broadcasting system.

  “Try to keep up.” Sampson looked at Ridley and Link like they were a couple of kindergartners, then disappeared after Necro.

  “Fun guy,” Link said.

  “Or not,” Rid said.

  Link shrugged. “I guess Darkborns are stiffs.”

  “You think?” She sounded worried.

  “You know what they say. With great power comes great nothing else.” He laughed, but Rid wasn’t having it. Not today.

  She looks hotter than Myrtle Beach in July, but she’s just as crabby, Link thought.

  “Come on. You want to—” Link gestured at the yellow tape. “Or should I?”

  “They’re gone. We could bolt,” Ridley said. She seemed more uneasy than she should have, considering this whole Devil’s Hangmen thing was her idea.

  “Yeah, right.” Link laughed, but she didn’t. Rid’s not jokin’. So that’s weird. “What are you talkin’ about? We didn’t come this far to hide like a scared cat now.”

  Rid sighed. “I’m not saying I’m worried. I’m just saying. We could, you know. Take off.”

  “You said that already.” So you’re worried, Link thought. “Why, Rid? I thought you said what happened at Suffer was no big deal.”

  Ridley shrugged. “This audition. Lennox Gates. Sirene. I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole thing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I never should have gotten us into—”

  “Whoa. Back it up. This is me.” Link pulled his drumsticks out of his back pocket, where he liked to keep them. “These are mine. I got this. I’m good, and if I’m not, well, that’s on me. You can’t keep yankin’ my chain, Rid. First you’re pushin’ me to do this whole Caster band thing, and now that I’m on board, you want out? No way.”

  She looked unconvinced, but at least she didn’t take off. Link knew better than to push his luck more than that.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her across the yellow plastic tape befo
re she could say another word. “Geronimo, Sugarplum.”

  The Doorwell to the subway must have used some powerful Illusionist mojo, because once Ridley and Link stepped through the yellow tape, they weren’t in the same place at all. They were in something that looked like a tunnel. Then Link felt it—the energy and electricity, the power coursing through his veins and into the world that was beneath the world.

  He didn’t feel sick now. They weren’t in just any tunnel. They were in the Caster Tunnels, the Underground that ran like an unseen labyrinth through the world, just beneath the Mortal Realm. Even when he expected it, it was still a surprise. Nothing else felt like this.

  It never did, not even when I was full-on Mortal.

  Link breathed deep and opened his eyes wide. He squeezed Rid’s hand one more time. “You okay, Babe?”

  She nodded. “I’m okay. I mean, better.”

  Of course she felt better. They were back in the Underground. It was hard to remember that there was ever a time these Tunnels scared the crap out of him, though they had. Him, and Ethan. For a while, even Liv had freaked out when she came down here. Back when John Breed was just a bad biker boy—and Vexes and Sheers roamed the Tunnels like rats and snakes.

  But right now, the Caster Tunnels were the closest thing to home that Link and Rid had. The Tunnels had become the one place they were free from the eyes and opinions of Gatlin County Mortals—none of whom were too short on either. The Underground was practically a full-time home to Macon, seeing as the whole town thought he was dead. Just goes to show, you can get used to anything.

  “Hurry up, man.” Floyd was impatient. She was waiting with Necro and Sampson just ahead, and as Link and Rid followed them through the dimly lit carved stone cavern, it felt like old times. Flickering torches lit the way with uneven light, and Link could see as far as the straight stretch of tunnel before them reached, all the way to the unknown darkness.

  Until a small something came weaving toward them through the shadows, and meowed.

  Link looked ahead into the dark. “Lucille, what the hell are you doin’ down here? I thought you were headin’ out to see the Statue a Liberty? Maybe catch a show on Broadway? Too late for Cats.” He grinned, turning to wink at Ridley.