The Mortal Heart (3 page)

Twenty minutes later, in a vinyl booth at the back of a nameless diner, Lila Jane Evers and Macon Ravenwood argued about history and syntax and Latin and Greek, over an old book and nearly as ancient coffee.

They didn’t notice the time until the sun came up again—but by then, even the least perceptive busboy could tell it was too late for both of them.

Lila Jane Evers and Macon Ravenwood were in love.

Just after dawn, Macon made his way to the Outer Door behind the Perkins Library, which led into the Caster Tunnels—the magical labyrinth of passageways that ran below the Mortal world. He quickly double-checked the surrounding area, but as usual, there was no one. Mortals rarely wandered around behind the library at this hour and even when they did, they never paid attention to what was happening around them.

Except Lila Jane Evers
, he thought with a smile. She was easily the smartest and most perceptive Mortal girl he’d ever met. And the most beautiful.

Finally speaking to her, after watching her from the back of the lecture hall more times than he could count, had thrown him off-balance. Jane was no ordinary girl.

But she’s still a Mortal, which makes her off-limits.

Macon slipped through the Doorwell and stepped down into the shadows until his foot found the invisible stair below, as he knew it would. He needed the peace and quiet of his study in the Tunnels to think, and to continue his research. It was the reason he chose to walk instead of Traveling. Materializing whenever and wherever he wanted to go was one of the few perks of being an Incubus—at least if you were born into the Ravenwood line of Blood Incubuses. Maybe one day it would become less disturbing, but Macon found that difficult to imagine.

How long can I avoid it?
How much time did he have until the Transition, when his powers and his thirst would be at their strongest?

Months? Weeks?

As he navigated through the damp stone that encased every inch of this particular Tunnel like a tomb, Macon let his mind drift back to Jane. He smiled at the thought of her navy peacoat, which was clearly meant for a man, and the way she seemed indifferent to her own beauty. Intelligence was a different matter.

She actually cares about ideas and opinions. About what people think and why they think it—unlike everyone else in my life.

Macon was still smiling when he opened the door to his study, until he noticed an unexpected—and uninvited—visitor.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” His brother Hunting lounged in Macon’s favorite armchair, with his black boots propped up on Macon’s claw-foot desk. Hunting picked up one of the books from the stack on the desk. “
The Incubus and Succubus: Tracing the Roots of Bloodlust
?” He tossed the rare book on the floor. “I can’t believe you read this crap. No wonder you’re depressed all the time.”

Macon crossed the room and shoved Hunting’s boots off his desk. “I don’t remember inviting you over or asking for your book recommendations—assuming you’ve learned to read by now.”

Hunting pointed a finger at his brother and winked, his pupil-less black eyes reflecting Macon’s image back at him. “Nice one. You can insult me later. I need a favor.”

Macon wasn’t interested in doing the sorts of favors that appealed to Hunting. “What is it this time? Grand larceny? Armed robbery? Am I getting warm?”

“Nothing quite that fun. Sorry to disappoint you.” Hunting rose and walked over to the mirror above Macon’s sink and admired his long canines. He had already Transitioned, becoming the newest addition to the Ravenwood family of Blood Incubuses. “I need a wingman. Found myself a pretty little Kappa Kappa Gamma debutante. Young and stupid, just the way I like ’em.”

Rage pulsed through Macon’s veins. “How many Mortal women have you bled dry since you Transitioned, Hunting? You tore your own girlfriend apart, for God’s sake.” It was an image burned in Macon’s memory—the sight of what was left of his brother’s Mortal girlfriend, a girl Hunting had loved as much as he was capable of loving anyone. Now Hunting was the equivalent of a supernatural serial killer, stalking Mortal girls with no mercy.

Hunting yawned. “Does that mean you aren’t coming?”

“Get out.” Macon pointed at the door. “I’m ashamed to share your blood.”

“But you do, whether you like it or not.” Hunting’s eyes narrowed. “And Silas is tired of waiting for you to come around.” They rarely referred to Silas as their father, maybe because he never acted like one.

Hunting glanced at the door and laughed. “Only a pathetic excuse for an Incubus would think I’d use the door.”

“I don’t care how you go, as long as you leave.”

“It’s funny,” Hunting said, looking his brother in the eye. “After all of Silas’ lectures about how I shouldn’t date a Mortal girl, you fall for one.”

Macon froze.

How does he know about Jane already?

Before Macon had a chance to ask him, Hunting dematerialized—disappearing into thin air, as if he’d never been there at all.

Macon dropped into his empty armchair, where his brother had been sitting only a moment ago. His head ached—along with his heart.

I’ll give it one week. Just to see what could’ve been—who I could’ve been. A glimpse of the life I’ll never know.

That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Macon already knew the answer, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Wake up. It’s almost noon. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week.” Marian walked into Lila’s room before she was fully awake. Marian was brushing her teeth, still wearing her silk kimono.

“Maybe I met someone,” Lila said, her head still under the pillow. “And my whole life has changed in the last six days”—her words were muffled—“and you were too busy working and going to class to notice.”

“Maybe you met someone?” Marian almost choked on her toothbrush. “You?”

Lila sat up on her futon. “He’s just helping me with a project. A prayer book or spell book or something. It’s not clear yet.”

“You mean, like, Salem stuff? Witch trials?” A strange expression passed over Marian’s face. “For your ABS paper?”

“Exactly. He solved the translation problem I’ve been stuck on for a week. He’s an intellectual genius, and different from anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Intellectual genius? Hello? I’m right here.” Marian pretended to pout. “Okay, fine. What project, which hypothetical someone, and when can I administer the appropriate best friend interrogation?”

Lila smiled. “The
Lux
. And you’ll meet him. Today, in fact. For lunch. Plenty of time to give your approval before our first kiss, which sadly has yet to happen.” She flopped back on the futon with a groan.

Marian held up her toothbrush, laughing. “So if you aren’t kissing, what are the two of you doing? Just going over old documents together?”

Lila covered her eyes, embarrassed. “Sometimes our shoulders touch.”

“What time is lunch? I have a shift at two.”

“Crap.” Lila sat up again, checking her mother-of-pearl watch. “Crap. Crap. Crap. I said we’d meet him in twenty minutes.” She was out of bed in a flash, which meant something she wasn’t ready to admit.

This was serious.

Lila Jane saw Macon across the crowded tables at Q Shack, which was crawling with Duke students. She and Marian were already at a table, and she elbowed her best friend, who had her back to the door. “He’s here. Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Marian said, giving her a strange look. “But if you want to talk about who’s nervous—”

“It’s just that he’s so—him. And you’re so you. And I want you both to like each other so much.”

Marian smiled, grabbing Lila Jane by the arm. “Relax. If you like him, I’m going to like him.”

“Promise?” Lila Jane reached around Marian’s neck and squeezed her in a best-friends-forever sort of way.

“Promise,” Marian said. “With the small caveat that if you choke me to death, I won’t get to meet him at all.”

Lila Jane smiled and relaxed just as Macon made it to the table. “There you are,” he said, taking off his coat. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the place. I’m afraid I don’t actually get out all that—”

Marian looked up at Macon towering over them, and he abruptly stopped talking and taking off his coat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, then turned to Lila Jane without waiting for his answer. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No.” He took a step back. “Of course not.”

“Wait—you know each other?” Lila Jane pushed back her chair, scraping the floor. She shook her head. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Yes, please do,” Marian said, her eyes fixed on Macon.

“I can explain,” Macon said. “It’s nothing. Harmless. A flirtation.”

“A what?” Lila Jane looked like he’d slapped her. “What are you saying?”

Marian shook her head. “No, Macon—what are you
thinking
?” She stood up, grabbing Lila Jane by the arm. “Listen to me. You have to stay away from him. Macon Ravenwood is the kind of trouble you know nothing about.”

“Clearly,” Lila Jane said, yanking her arm away. “But it seems like you know all about him. You two had a thing, didn’t you? And now it’s awkward, and I’m in the middle of all of it?” She grabbed her bag. “Don’t let a
harmless flirtation
like me get in the way.”

“Jane,” Macon began. “Please.”

“It’s not what you think,” Marian said.

But Lila Jane Evers was out the door before either of them could tell her anything worse than what she already thought she knew.

Marian finally found Lila Jane, on the top floor, in the most remote stacks at Perkins, surrounded by a pile of ancient, open books. She had a finger in one book to hold her place, a glove in a second, and a sock in another.

This was her safe space.

Marian sat on the floor next to her best friend and leaned against the wall of books behind them. “Memoirs? What is it with you and memoirs?”

Lila Jane shrugged, closing the book in her lap. “It must be daunting to work out your own story. Lord knows, I never have. And this week wasn’t a step in the right direction.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Mare.”

“As if a stupid boy could ever come between us, Janie,” Marian said. She reached for Lila Jane’s hand, taking it in her own. “But speaking of our own stories… I think it’s time I told you mine.”

“If it’s about Macon Ravenwood, I don’t want to know.” Lila Jane sounded brokenhearted. “I should have known from the name. He sounds like the villain in one of the soap operas my mom watches.”

Marian stifled a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Men are terrible, and relationships are doomed from the start. I should know better by now. Everything is so much more complicated than it seems. You can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

“I’m willing to bet I can,” Marian said calmly. “And Macon Ravenwood isn’t the half of it.” She squeezed Lila Jane’s hand. “But to be clear, we never dated. And after you hear what I have to say, I think you’ll understand why.”

Lila Jane froze. “What’s wrong with him? He’s a criminal, right? Or a serial womanizer? A total creep?”

Marian rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Did you look at the guy? He’s not exactly a frat boy.”

“Thank God.” Lila Jane relaxed. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“Right.” Marian took a breath, staring at her friend as if she couldn’t find the words. “Right.”

Lila Jane would forever remember the sad look in her best friend’s eyes, in that last moment of her blissful ignorance.

“Janie. When I said you couldn’t go out with Macon Ravenwood, it wasn’t because he’s a horrible person. It’s because, well… he’s not a person at all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Macon Ravenwood’s not a Mortal.”

Lila Jane stared at her. What else could she do when her best friend had obviously lost her mind?

Marian stood and held out her hand. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. But first I have to take you to the library.”

“We—we’re in the library,” Lila Jane stammered.

“A different kind of library.” Marian took Lila’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”