Beautiful Darkness by Kami García, Margaret Stohl Page B

thought about leaving since Lena came
     to Gatlin. The box of college brochures under my bed had stayed under my bed until now. As long as I had Lena, I wasn’t counting
     the days until I could get out of Gatlin.
    “Hell-o. Who is that?” Eden’s voice was a little too loud.
    I heard the bell on the door of the Dar-ee Keen chime as it closed. It was like some kind of Clint Eastwood movie, where the
     hero steps into the saloon after he’s just shot up the whole town. The neck of every girl sitting near us snapped toward the
     door, greasy blond ponytails flying.
    “I don’t know, but I’d sure like to find out,” Emily purred, coming up behind Eden.
    “I’ve never seen him before. Have you?” I could see Savannah filing through the yearbook in her mind.
    “No way. I’d remember
him
.” Poor guy. Emily had him in her crosshairs, target locked and loaded. He didn’t stand a chance, whoever he was. I turned
     around to get a look at the guy Earl and Emory would be kicking the crap out of when they realized their girlfriends were
     drooling over him.
    He was standing in the doorway in a faded black T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed black army boots. I couldn’t see the scuffs from
     where I was sitting, but I knew they were there. Because he was wearing exactly the same thing the last time I saw him, when
     he ripped out of Macon’s funeral.
    It was the stranger, the Incubus who wasn’t an Incubus. The sunlight Incubus. I remembered the silver sparrow in Lena’s hand
     when she was sleeping in my bed.
    What was he doing here?
    A black tattoo wound around his arm, sort of tribal-looking, like something I’d seen before. I felt a knife in my gut, and
     touched my scar. It was throbbing.
    Savannah and Emily walked up to the counter, trying to act like they were going to order something, as if they touched anything
     here other than Diet Coke.
    “Who is that?” Link wasn’t one for competition, not that he was in the running these days.
    “I don’t know, but he showed up at Macon’s funeral.”
    Link was staring at him. “Is he one of Lena’s weird relatives?”
    “I don’t know what he is, but he isn’t related to Lena.” Then again, he did come to the funeral to pay his respects to Macon.
     Still, there was something wrong about him. I’d sensed it since the first time I saw him.
    I heard the bell chime again as the door closed.
    “Hey, Angel Face, wait up.”
    I froze. I would have known that voice anywhere. Link was staring at the door, too. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, or worse.…
    Ridley.
    Lena’s Dark Caster of a cousin was as dangerous and hot and barely dressed as always, except now it was summer, so she had
     on even less than usual. She was wearing a skin-tight, lacy black tank and a black skirt so small it was probably made for
     a ten-year-old. Ridley’s legs looked longer than ever, balancing on some kind of high, spiky sandals that could stake a vampire.
     Now the girls weren’t the only ones with their mouths hanging open. Most of the school had been at the winter formal, when
     Ridley brought down the house and still managed to look hotter than any girl there except one.
    Ridley leaned back and stretched her arms over her head, as if we’d woken her from a long nap. She laced her fingers together,
     stretching even higher, revealing even more skin and the black tattoo encircling her navel. Her tattoo looked a lot like the
     one on her friend’s arm. Ridley whispered something in his ear.
    “Holy crap, she’s here.” Link was slowly absorbing it. He hadn’t seen Ridley since the night of Lena’s birthday, when he had
     talked Ridley out of killing my dad. But he didn’t need to see her to think about her. It was pretty clear he’d been thinking
     about her a lot, based on every song he’d written since she left. “She’s with that guy? Do you think he’s, you know, like
     her?” A Dark Caster. He couldn’t say it.
    “Doubt it. His eyes aren’t yellow.” But he