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“How?”
“You know my abilities are constantly evolving. This one is unpredictable, I’m afraid.” He shrugged innocently.
I tried not to think. It didn’t seem to stop him from scolding me.
Really? You thought you could take on Abraham alone, in a graveyard?
“But how did you know where we were?” John asked. “I didn’t put that in the note.”
Oh my God….
“Uncle M? Can you read minds?”
“Hardly.” My uncle snapped his fingers, and Boo lumbered up the hill. Knowing my uncle, it was practically a confession.
I felt my hair lift from my shoulders as a gentle wind whipped around me. I tried to calm down. “You were spying on me? I thought we made a deal about that.”
“That was before you and your friends decided you were equipped to take on Abraham Ravenwood on your own.” His voice rose. “Have you learned nothing?”
The Book of Moons lay in the dirt, the moon embossed on its black leather cover facing the sky.
Link bent down to pick it up.
“I wouldn’t do that, Hot Rod,” Ridley said. “You don’t have that much Incubus in you.” She picked up the Book and touched her lollipop to his lips almost like a kiss. “Wouldn’t want those pretty hands to get burned.”
“Thanks, Babe.”
“Don’t call me—”
Link grabbed the lollipop out of her hand. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
I watched the way they looked at each other. Any idiot could see they were in love, even if they were the only two idiots who couldn’t.
My chest ached, and I thought about Ethan.
the missing piece
my breath
my heart
my memory
me
the other half
the missing half
Stop.
I didn’t want to write poems in my mind, especially if my uncle could hear them. I needed to send a completely different kind of message. “Rid, give it to me.”
She nodded and handed me The Book of Moons.
The Book that nearly killed Ethan and then Uncle Macon. The Book that took more than it ever gave. Part of me wanted to set it on fire and see if it would burn, though I doubted something as mundane as fire could destroy it.
It still would have been worth a try if it prevented even one person from using the Book to hurt someone else—or themselves. But Ethan needed it, and I trusted him. Whatever he was doing, I believed he wouldn’t use it to hurt anyone. And I wasn’t sure he could hurt himself now.
