Beautiful Chaos(41)

Lena smiled and reached behind me, pushing the door back open.

I groaned. “Don’t do that.”

Lena touched my lip. “When’s the last time the Sisters walked up the stairs?”

I leaned closer to her, our foreheads touching. My pulse started racing the second we touched. “Now that you mention it, Amma’s going to be pouring sweet tea until that pitcher runs dry.”

I picked Lena up and carried her over to my bed, which was really just a mattress on my floor now, thanks to Link. I dropped down next to her, purposely ignoring my broken window, my open door, or what was left of my bed.

It was just the two of us. She stared back up at me, one green eye and one gold, black curls splayed out on the mattress around her, like a black halo. “I love you, Ethan Wate.”

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at her. “I’ve been told I’m very lovable.”

Lena laughed. “Who told you that?”

“Lots of girls.”

Her eyes clouded over for a second. “Yeah? Like?”

“My mom. My Aunt Caroline. And Amma.” I poked her in the ribs, and she started to squirm, giggling into my shirt. “I love you, L.”

“You better. Because I don’t know what I would do without you.” Her voice was raw and as honest as I’d ever heard it.

“There’s no me without you, Lena.” I leaned down and kissed her, lowering myself until my body fit perfectly against hers, like they were made to be together. Because we were—no matter what the universe or my pulse had to say about it. I could feel the energy seeping from me, but it only made my mouth seek out hers again.

Lena pulled away before my heart began to pound dangerously. “I think we’d better stop, Ethan.”

I sighed and rolled onto my back next to her, my hand still tangled in her hair. “We didn’t even get started.”

“Until we figure out why it’s getting worse—more intense between us—we have to be careful.”

I grabbed for her waist. “What if I said I don’t care?”

“Don’t say that. You know I’m right. I don’t want to accidentally set you on fire, too.”

“I don’t know. Still might be worth it.”

She punched me in the arm, and I smiled up at the ceiling. I knew she was right. The only people who still seemed in control of their powers were the Incubuses. Ravenwood was a mess, and so was everyone in it.

But that didn’t make it any better. I needed to touch her, like I needed to breathe.

I heard a meow. Lucille was kneading the bottom of my mattress. Ever since she lost her bed to Harlon James IV, she had taken over mine. My dad had rushed back from Charleston the night of the so-called twister, and he’d found Aunt Prue’s dog the next day, cowering in a corner of the kindergarten yard. Once Harlon James arrived at our house, he wasn’t much different from the Sisters. He made himself right at home in Lucille’s bed. Eating Lucille’s chicken dinners off her china plate. Even scratching Lucille’s cat post.

“Aw, come on, Lucille. You’ve lived with them longer than I have.” But it didn’t matter. As long as the Sisters were living with us, Lucille was living with me.

Lena gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and leaned over the side of the bed to dig through her bag. An old copy of Great Expectations slipped out. I recognized it right away.

“What’s that?”

Lena picked it up, avoiding my eyes. “It’s called a book.” She knew what I was really asking.

“Is it the one you found in Sarafine’s box?” I already knew it was.

“Ethan, it’s just a book. I read lots of them.”

“It’s not just a book, L. What’s going on?”

Lena hesitated, then flipped through the tattered pages. When she reached a dog-eared page, she started to read: “ ‘And could I look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin she was, in her profound unfitness for this Earth on which she was placed….’ ” Lena stared into the book, as if there were answers inside that only she could see. “That passage was underlined.”

I knew Lena was curious about her mother—not Sarafine, but the woman we had seen in the vision—the one who had cradled Lena in her arms as a baby. Maybe Lena believed the book or the metal box of her mother’s things held the answers. But it didn’t matter what was underlined in any old copy of Dickens.

Nothing in that box was free of the blood on Sarafine’s hands.

I reached out and grabbed the book. “Give it to me.” Before Lena could say a word, my bedroom faded away—



It had started to rain, as if the sky was matching Sarafine tear for tear. By the time she reached the Eades house, she was drenched. She climbed the white trellis under John’s window and hesitated. She pulled the sunglasses she stole from Winn-Dixie out of her pocket and put them on before knocking lightly on the glass.

Too many questions were tangled up in her mind. What was she going to tell John? How could she make him understand she was still the same person? Would a Light Caster still love her now that she was… this?

“Izabel?” John was half asleep, his dark eyes staring back at her. “What are you doing out there?” He grabbed her hand before she could answer, and pulled her inside.