Bound (16 page)

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Authors: Erica O'Rourke

BOOK: Bound
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C
HAPTER
19
I
hadn’t cut class since the fall, when Sister Donna had put me on probation and threatened to revoke my membership in the Honor Society. But when Lena headed back to class, I stayed behind in the chapel, soaking up the scent of beeswax and chilled stone. I lit a votive for Verity, and one for Kowalski, my hand so shaky the match nearly guttered out.
And then I sat on the pew and thought about Colin, scrambling for a way to fix things. But nothing came to mind—nothing that would break through the icy wall of anger he’d surrounded himself with. It seemed so impenetrable, I didn’t even know how to begin chipping away at it.
A more sensible person would have given him time to thaw, but it was February. Thaws were a long way off. I needed to make sure that Colin and I were solid before everything else disintegrated.
He’d be at The Slice, most likely. If not there, at Morgan’s. I shivered at the thought of Colin confronting Billy. Or maybe he’d be back at his place, lifting weights or finishing up a woodworking project. I knew him. I could track him down and make him listen. Eventually he’d talk to me. We’d work this out.
So I slipped out of the chapel, hurrying north to the CTA bus stop, hoping no one at the school happened to look out their window at that exact moment.
I’d gone all of fifteen yards before Luc fell into step next to me.
“Field trip?”
“Let me guess. Niobe?”
“She was a touch concerned. Anton’s still runnin’ around, you know. Just ’cause Darklings can’t spot you doesn’t mean you’re safe.”
“I don’t really care about Anton right now.”
“You should. Man’s angling for you.”
I stopped at the corner. Ten minutes, tops, before the bus came.
Luc frowned. “Really, Mouse? You so stubborn you won’t even ask for a ride?” He held out his hand. “Where we goin’?”
I considered. “The Slice. But I need you to cloak us, okay?”
“And here I was plannin’ on settin’ you down in the middle of the street, maybe shoot off some fireworks while I was at it.” He looked at me again. “It’s that bad?”
Something in my chest ached so fiercely, I couldn’t breathe. Finally, I said, “Pretty bad.”
He didn’t say anything else, just caught my hand and brought me Between.
I ducked my head inside the partially rebuilt restaurant. Workmen, including my dad, were swarming around, and the sound of power tools—saws, nail guns, belt sanders—was deafening.
Colin was nowhere in sight, but my dad spotted me across the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” he shouted over the din.
“I’m looking for Colin.”
He shook his head, gesturing for me to follow him outside. The noise dropped off somewhat, and he said, “You don’t want to talk to him right now.”
“Where did he go? Morgan’s?”
“No. He was here this morning. We talked for a few minutes. Then he left. He didn’t say where he was going, but it wasn’t Morgan’s.” He shook his head. “Go back to school. If Donnelly wants to talk to you, he will. You force it, and he’ll only get angrier.”
“You’re giving me relationship advice? Really?” But he wasn’t the one who’d told Colin, I reminded myself. He’d had the chance, every day, to warn him or enlist his help. To break us up. Instead, he’d let me handle it my own way, even though my own way had clearly sucked.
“Isn’t that what fathers are supposed to do?” he asked. I turned to leave, and he caught my arm. “I don’t like you and Donnelly together. But he cares about you. He’ll keep you safe, if I can’t. So don’t screw this up by pushing too hard. That’s what got you in this mess to begin with.”
I pulled away and circled around to the back of the building, where Luc was waiting.
He’ll keep you safe, if I can’t.
My steps slowed, the packed snow crunching underfoot. Is that what he thought he was doing? Keeping us safe by going back to the Outfit?
“No luck?” Luc asked.
“Let’s try his place.”
Colin wasn’t there, either. I pounded on the door until my knuckles were red, but there was no answer. The truck was gone, too. He wouldn’t have left town, I told myself. The one thing he would never do was leave, no matter how angry he was. He wouldn’t abandon Tess.
“The nursing home,” I said. “He’s with his sister.”
“Mouse, I’m happy to take you anywhere you want to go. But maybe you should listen to your daddy this time. Wait a bit before you go barging in there.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“I have excellent hearing.”
“You have
magic
hearing.”
“Six of one,” he said offhandedly. “Point is, your daddy was right. And I am not actually here on a social visit.”
“You never are. What now?”
“The Succession starts tonight. You ready?”
“I’ve been working with Niobe,” I said stiffly.
His mouth crooked upward. “I heard. Would’ve liked to see you knock Constance on her ass.”
“You really don’t like her, do you? Why? I figured you’d have more sympathy than anyone, considering ...”
“Considering Theo? Sure. But sympathy’s one thing. Spoiling her’s another. You risked your life to help that girl, and all she does is slap at you. You might feel guilty enough to put up with it, but I don’t need to.”
“She’s grieving.”
“She’s spoiled,” he said firmly. “And she’s trouble.”
My teeth were chattering with cold. “Can you please take me to the nursing home?”
“Anywhere in the world,” he grumbled. “My place, a tropical island, Paris. And you want to go to an old folks’ home.”
But he took me anyway.
With Luc concealing us, it was easy to slip down the hallways and find Tess’s room. The facility was bright and spacious, with fresh flowers on hall tables and watercolors on the walls.
“You don’t need to come in,” I said. “I don’t think Colin would appreciate more company.”
“Don’t imagine he would.” He tapped my wrist and set off toward a waiting area. “Call if you need me.”
I squared my shoulders and knocked, then pushed the door open, the magic shifting nervously within me.
“We’re not ... oh.” At the sight of me, Colin’s face shifted from politely neutral to coldly dismissive. “What do you want?”
Forgiveness. A chance to explain. A way forward. But it all seemed insignificant compared to the sight before me—Colin in a floral armchair, sitting opposite a wisp of a girl in a wheelchair. The same honey-colored hair and smoky eyes as Colin, but instead of his strong, solid features, she seemed insubstantial, her pointed chin and snub nose delicately shaped. She wore a long-sleeve pink T-shirt and white yoga pants, her feet tucked into fluffy slippers that looked brand-new. She watched me from the corner of her eye.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He didn’t seem inclined to throw me bodily from the room, so I chanced another step forward.
“I’m fine. So you can leave now.”
I ignored him, my attention riveted on the girl in front of me. “Hi, Tess.”
She didn’t respond, and I took another step. “I’m Mo. It’s nice to meet you.”
“She knows who you are.”
“You told her about me?” I wondered if that was good or bad.
For a moment, his look was exasperated instead of angry. “Yes. Just go, okay?”
“I will. I just wanted to—”
“To what? Gawk? Pry a little more?” His voice was like a lash, and Tess’s fingers scrabbled in her lap. “You’re upsetting her.”
“I’m not the one yelling,” I said.
He turned his back on me, murmured to Tess as her eyes darted around the room. I studied the place. Pink walls, a neatly made hospital bed, a pale pink blanket folded at the foot. Pink roses in a silver vase on the table, and white curtains pulled back to display the courtyard beneath. A bird feeder hung within view, half-full of seeds.
“Well?” he asked, not looking at me.
“It’s nice. Very ... pink.”
“She loved pink. Pink and Barbies and birds.”
Loved.
Because the girl in the wheelchair hadn’t spoken since she was six, according to the file I’d read last fall. She’d been catatonic since the attack, barely responding to anyone, even Colin. She’d been trapped inside herself for ten years.
Tess’s eyes cut from me to the window, and I followed her gaze. Lining the sill were a series of small wooden figurines. Tiny birds in flight—each a different species, painstakingly carved. Some were painted, some stained or varnished. A few were left completely natural.
“You made those for her.”
“She used to chase the birds. She’d go outside with breadcrumbs and try to catch them, so they’d teach her how to fly.” He glanced over. “Go home, Mo.”
Tess’s fingers twitched toward the windowsill. Gently, Colin picked up the figure of a hummingbird, set it in her palm, and wrapped her fingers around it. She crooned to it, nonsense words, and something in me stirred at the sound.
“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” I said.
“Never thought you did. I’m pretty sure you weren’t thinking of me at all.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Unfair? You’re going to stand in front of my sister and talk about unfair?”
“No. I’m sorry, Colin. For what I did, and for what happened to you and your family. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, that I betrayed your trust. I was wrong, and I am sorry.” I stared at the lamp until the urge to cry passed. “But I won’t apologize for making the deal with Billy, and I won’t go back on it. Just ... tell me how to fix this.”
“Not everything is fixable,” he said, and his voice was weary, eyes shadowed. “You should leave now.”
I pressed my hands against my stomach, steadying myself. “Right. Going. It was nice to meet you, Tess.”
She didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the hummingbird, her fingers curved loosely around it like a cage.
“It’s really beautiful. He’s amazing, your brother.”
And then I left, because there was nothing else to say.
C
HAPTER
20
“Y
ou know,” Luc said as we walked through the French Quarter, “there is a certain type of man who would use this situation to his advantage.”
I laughed to keep myself from crying. “And you are not that type?”
“I am, actually. But I figured I’d point it out to you. Give you fair warning.”
“How very noble of you.”
“You’re sad, and that’s a pity. Never like seein’ you hurt. But I made my intentions clear, and nothing’s changed.”
“Except me.” Magic inside me like a second heart, heavy with sorrow and sympathy. The future a labyrinth instead of a straight, sure path. And all the rules I’d ever set for myself in shards at my feet. I’d justified my behavior with the same logic as everyone in my family.
“See, that’s where we disagree. You’re still you. Same girl that went after Darklings in an alley without knowing what they were. Same girl who bit me when I tried to make her hush. It’s just that what you’re made of used to be stuffed down so deep, you didn’t even recognize it.”
“You’re wrong.” And it was a relief, because I’d made so, so many mistakes. I’d changed. The me I used to be would never have been capable of hurting people like this. Parts of me were hardened and cold. Scarred by everything that had happened. But it was a lot easier to believe those parts had been formed by terrible, necessary choices than to think I’d been capable of it all along.
“Did you ever wonder why the magic chose you?” He paused as a horse-drawn carriage full of tourists clopped past, hooves ringing against the pavement. “I do. All the time. The Vessel was dying, but Vee wasn’t bound to the source. It could have survived. Been free. The Torrent was never going to destroy the magic, just Arcs. Why did it choose you?”
“It didn’t
choose
me. I just happened to be there. Coincidence.”
“No such thing,” he replied. “The way I figure it, something inside you told the magic you could do this. You were capable. You were the one it was meant for.”
“Luc.” I tried to draw away, but he caught me by the wrist, held me fast.
“Meant.” His voice was as rough as a match struck to flame. “You were meant for this. More than what you thought, or knew, or dreamed about, maybe, but meant all the same. Nothing’s changed except that now you know. And you’re too honest, deep down, to tell yourself otherwise.”
“I lie all the time.”
“Not here.” He placed his hand over my heart, gentle and weighty, and I was sure he could feel its panicked beats. “And right about now, Mouse, is when I start pressing my case.”
“You don’t know what’s meant and what’s not. Not all of it, anyway. Your mom said it was only the destination. Maybe she meant that we were supposed to help the Arcs or save the magic, but not necessarily be together. You could find someone else you wanted to be with. An Arc. Someone who understood ...” A memory unfolded, a wisp of irritation drifting over my nape as it did. “Someone like Niobe. You two work well together. You obviously have some history. She even told me she has a fondness for you.”
Luc seemed to swallow his own tongue. “Niobe. And me. Oh, she’ll love that. She’ll laugh about that for days.”
“Glad you find it so funny. I’m not saying it has to be Niobe. Choose someone you want.”
“I want you.”
“That’s hormones,” I said. “Hormones and this stupid prophecy. Not love. I want to be with someone who loves me.”
Colin had loved me. And I’d ruined it. But even if we were done, I wasn’t going to settle for less.
“You want proof. You want someone to write it all down like a science experiment, an equation, because it’s safer that way. Because you know what to expect. And maybe then you won’t get hurt.”
He tipped my face up to his. “Fit this into your equation, Mouse. I choose you. Fate, entropy, God, science, prophecy, or free will. I don’t care about any of it.
I choose you.
I will choose you again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, all of them, as many days as there are stars.”
I broke away, moved out of his reach. “Not today. Don’t say those things today, Luc.”
“Right. Because if I convince you today, it’s an excuse later. You’ll tell me it wasn’t real, that you were vulnerable, that it was a mistake. So, you need space? Time? You got it.”
“Good,” I said, unsteady, traitorous heart pounding in my ears.
Frustration darkened his eyes. “I won’t kiss you again, Mouse. But when you kiss me, you damn well better mean it. No more excuses. No more running. You kiss me, and it’s for keeps.”
Annoyance sparked within me. Fear, too, although what I was afraid of seemed too complicated to name. “You’re so sure I’ll change my mind.”
“No. Don’t think you need to change your mind at all. You just need to know it better.” He took my hand. “Enough fighting. Let’s get the Succession under way.”

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