The Ultimate Weapon

I knocked on the door of Macon’s study, and it swung open. I didn’t need to worry about waking him up, though. A miserable-looking Link was already sitting at the table.

Macon waved me in. “Link has filled me in on everything. Luckily, he came straight here, before he hurt anyone.” I hadn’t considered the damage a raging Incubus could inflict.

“What part of everything do you know?” I stepped inside.

“That my niece snuck out of the house.” He looked at me pointedly. “Not a wise decision.”

“No, sir.” Macon was already angry, and I didn’t want to tell him something that was going to make him even angrier.

He crossed his arms. “And that Ridley somehow managed to Cast a Furor?”

A whole lot angrier.

“I know you’re upset, but there’s something more important I need to tell you.” I glanced at the door. “Or maybe you should see for yourself.”

“John Breed.” Macon loomed over him. “This is quite an unexpected turn of events. All things considered.”

John was standing just inside the door of the study, as if he was going to make a break for it, Mortal-style. In Macon’s presence, his smart-ass attitude was gone.

Link was staring at John like he wanted to tear him apart. “What the hell is he doin’ here?” I felt bad for Link, being stuck in the same room with John. He had to hate John even more than I did, if that was possible.

Lena couldn’t look at her uncle or Link. She was ashamed of Ridley, and herself for not figuring it out sooner. But more than anything, I knew she was worried about her cousin, no matter what she’d done. “Ridley stole the Arclight out of Uncle Macon’s grave after we buried it. She freed John, and she’s been using his belt as a conduit to channel his powers until now.”

“Belt?”

Liv pulled out her little red notebook. “The one Lena’s wearing. The disgusting belt with the scorpion trapped inside.”

Macon held out his hand. Lena unclicked the buckle and handed the belt to him.

Link turned on John. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. Ridley’s been ordering me around since she let me out of the Arclight.”

“Why would you agree?” Even Macon was incredulous. “You don’t strike me as particularly selfless.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I’ve been stuck in this house for months now, trying to get out.” John slumped against the wall. “Ridley wouldn’t help me unless I found a way for her to Cast. So I did.”

“You expect us to believe that a powerful hybrid Incubus allowed a Mortal girl to trap him in her bedroom?”

John shook his head, frustrated. “This is Ridley we’re talking about. I think you all have a bad habit of underestimating her. When she wants something, she finds a way to get it.” We all knew he was right.

“He’s telling the truth, Uncle Macon,” Reece said, from where she was standing by the fireplace.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

Reece wasn’t about to bite Macon’s head off, the way she had done to me. “I’m sure.”

John looked relieved.

Liv stepped forward, her notebook in hand. She had no interest in why Ridley may or may not have done something. She wanted the facts. “You know, we’ve been looking for you,” she told John.

“Yeah? Bet you’re not the only ones.”

Liv and Macon convinced John to sit down at the table with the rest of us, which meant Link refused to. He leaned against the wall next to the fireplace, sulking. All the Linkubus hype aside, John had changed Link in ways I would never really understand. And I knew something else John didn’t know.

As much as Link loved driving all the girls crazy, it didn’t really matter. There was only one girl Link wanted, and none of us knew where to find her.

“Abraham has gone to great lengths to locate your whereabouts, literally tearing this town apart. What I need to know is why. Abraham doesn’t do anything without a reason.” Macon was asking the questions, while Liv wrote down John’s responses. Reece was sitting across from John, watching for any trace of a lie.

John shrugged. “I’m not really sure. He found me when I was a kid, but he’s not exactly a father figure, if you know what I mean.”

Macon nodded. “You said he found you. What happened to your parents?”

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know. They disappeared. I’m pretty sure they ditched me because I was… you know, different.”

Liv stopped writing. “All Casters are different.”

John laughed. “I’m not a regular Caster. My powers didn’t manifest when I was a teenager.” Liv stared at him. He pointed at her notebook. “You’re going to want to write this part down.”

She raised an eyebrow. Subject displays combative attitude. I could imagine it on the page.

“I was born this way, and my powers have only gotten stronger. Do you know what it’s like to be able to do things no one else your age can?”

“Yes.” There was a trace of something in Liv’s voice, a mix of sadness and sympathy. She had always been smarter than everyone around her, designing devices to measure the pull of the moon, or some other thing no one else cared about or understood.

Macon was studying John, and you could see the former Incubus in him sizing up this strange new one. “And exactly what sort of powers do you have, aside from being impervious to the effects of sunlight?”

“Standard Incubus stuff—amplified strength, hearing, sense of smell. I can Travel. And girls are pretty into me.” John stopped and looked at Lena as if they shared a secret. She looked away.

“Not as much as you think,” I said. He smiled at me, enjoying Macon’s protective custody.

“I can do other things, too.”

Liv searched his face. “Like what?”

Link’s arms were crossed, and he was staring at the door, pretending he wasn’t listening. But I knew he was. Like it or not, he and John would always be connected now. The more Link knew about John, the more he would be able to figure out about himself.

John looked at Reece, then at Lena. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to say. “Random stuff.”

Macon’s eyes flickered. “What random stuff? Perhaps you could elaborate.”

John gave up. “It sounds like a bigger deal than it is. But I can absorb other Casters’ powers.”

Liv stopped writing. “Like an Empath?” Lena’s grandma could borrow the powers of other Casters temporarily, but she never described it as “absorbing” anything.

John shook his head. “No. I keep them.”

Liv’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you can steal the powers of other Casters?”

“No. They still have their powers, but I have them, too. Sort of like a collection.”

“How is that even possible?” Liv asked.

Macon leaned back in his chair. “I would be very interested in hearing the answer to that question, Mr. Breed.”

John glanced at Lena again. I wanted to jump across the table. “All I have to do is touch them.”

“What?” Lena looked like he had slapped her in the face. Is that what he’d been doing with his hands all over her on the dance floor at Exile? Or when she had climbed onto the back of his stupid motorcycle that day at the lake? Siphoning her powers, like a parasite?

“It’s not like I do it on purpose. It just happens. I don’t even know how to use most of the powers I have.”

“But I’m sure Abraham does.” Macon poured himself a glass of dark liquor from a decanter that had appeared on the table. Never a sign things were going well.

Liv and Macon looked at each other, a silent exchange.

I could see the wheels in Liv’s mind turning. “What could Abraham be planning?”

“With a hybrid Incubus who can collect the powers of other Casters?” Macon answered. “I’m not entirely sure, but with those capabilities at his side, Abraham would have the ultimate weapon. And Mortals wouldn’t stand a chance against that sort of power.”

John whipped around to face Macon. “What did you say?”

“Would you care for me to repeat—”

“Wait.” John cut Macon off before he could finish. He closed his eyes as if he was trying to remember something. “ ‘Casters are an imperfect race. Polluting our bloodlines and using their powers to oppress us. But the day will come when we wield the ultimate weapon and eradicate them from the Earth.’ ”

“What kinda crap is that?” John had Link’s attention.

“Abraham and Silas used to say it all the time when I was a kid. I had to memorize it. Sometimes when I got in trouble, Silas made me write it over and over for hours.”

“Silas?” Macon stiffened at the mention of his father’s name. I remembered the things my mom had said about Silas in the Arclight visions. He sounded like a monster, abusive and racist, trying to pass his hatred on to his sons—and apparently to John.

Macon looked at John, his eyes darkening to a green so deep it was nearly black. “How did you know my father?”

John raised his empty green eyes to meet Macon’s. His voice was different when he finally answered—not powerful or cocky, not John Breed at all.

“He raised me.”