When Sampson stepped out of the passageway and stood up again, John let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. I didn’t know how much more of that I could take.”
Link reached the opening right after Necro and Floyd, and he was so busy looking up that he plowed into them. Floyd swayed, and Link caught her arm. She glanced down at the spot where his fingers touched her skin, and Link felt a wave of guilt. Not because he had feelings for Floyd, but because he didn’t. She was funny and pretty, in an indie rocker chick kind of way, and one of the best bass players Link had ever met. But no matter how cool Floyd was, there was one thing she’d never be.
More like, one person.
Where the hell are you, Babe?
Link was so miserable and so alone, it didn’t matter how many of his friends were with him. All he could feel was the one person who wasn’t.
“Check out the sky,” John said.
Ribbons of pale green and lavender arched above them, the colors alternating in the same pattern as far as they could see. When Link looked carefully, he realized it wasn’t a sky at all. Except for the carpet of grass beneath their feet, the rest of the tunnel was made of flowers and vines.
In spite of everything, it was sort of beautiful.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, not even down here.” Necro stared up at the sea of lavender flowers. “It’s miraculous.”
Link understood what she was saying. Miracles were made of hope.
And hope was what they all needed most.
Liv drew a quick sketch in her little red journal. “Actually, it’s a hedge tunnel.”
“Buzzkill,” Floyd said.
Liv ignored her. “We have some of the most famous ones back home, in the UK. But this looks exactly like the Wisteria Tree Tunnel in Japan.”
Floyd gave Liv a strange look. “Who knows junk like that?”
“People who read.” Liv walked past Floyd and Necro, heading deeper into the arched hedge. “You see, there are these remarkable things called books. They’re full of pages and pages of words.” She glanced back at Floyd. “Maybe you’ve heard of them. Or maybe not.”
John stifled a smile and followed his girlfriend.
“Don’t you get a headache from memorizing all that random stuff?” Floyd shot back.
Liv followed Lucille without bothering to turn around. “Not at all. What gives me a headache is explaining all that random stuff to other people.”
The way Liv said people made it pretty clear that the only person she was talking about was Floyd.
“Sometimes I really don’t understand your choice of friends,” Floyd said, looking at Link.
“Liv’s just givin’ you a hard time,” Link said. “She’ll warm up to you, and then you two will get along great.” He tried to sound more upbeat than he felt.
Floyd glared, and Necro raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”
“Highly,” Liv muttered.
The tunnel of flowers continued for at least a mile. Even Sampson seemed mesmerized, glancing up every few moments. But Link was having a hard time looking at them when he had no idea what Ridley was looking at right now.
With every step he only worried more.
What if she’s all alone and hurt somewhere? What if she isn’t alone?
Link clenched his jaw. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting the only girl he’d ever loved. Because that was what it came down to, plain and simple. He loved Ridley, and it didn’t have anything to do with her Siren powers. He would’ve fallen for her one way or another—Mortal or Caster, Light or Dark. He loved the sound of her voice, even when she was complaining, and the way she fit under his arm perfectly, even in her crazy high heels.
Ridley was all long legs, red lipstick, and pink-streaked hair on the outside; but on the inside, she wasn’t a bad girl. She was a girl who never had a choice about being born into a family of cursed Supernaturals, or Darkness Claiming her on her sixteenth birthday, or her family turning their backs on her after it happened.
Inside, Ridley was all pain and heartbreak—just a regular girl who needed him.
Almost as bad as I need her.
CHAPTER 9: NOX
Gates of Tomorrow
Every Caster knew where to find the Mile, including Nox. It was hidden in the Tunnels beneath the French Quarter in New Orleans—a solid mile of identical Caster doors.
At night, drunk Casters and Incubuses would dare each other to open one of the doors, in the Caster version of Russian roulette. Without knowing what waited on the other side, you could find yourself in some fat guy’s living room, watching him sleep in front of the television—or just as easily end up surrounded by Vexes and other deadly creatures.
Opening the door was the rush. The Wheel of Fate decided the rest—one way or another. It was a sucker’s game. Nox would never take those odds.
Most other Casters and Incubuses must’ve wised up, because now the narrow alley lined with doors as far as the eye could see was deserted. Knowing Abraham Ravenwood, the Blood Incubus’ door would be protected by some sort of Cast. If Nox could open it at all, it would be a trap.
Yeah. A deathtrap.
Nox glanced down at his watch.
Any minute now.
He moved through the shadows, staying close to the doorways on one side, in case he needed to hide. If the Chemist was telling the truth, the door leading to Abraham’s house was here somewhere, which wasn’t much to go on.
Especially for a guy with no time to waste.
I’m coming, Ridley. Just be okay when I get there.