Forbidden. Part 26

"Why?"

Claire took a deep breath, terrified to speak the next words aloud, but incapable of holding back the truth anymore. "Because he's a Grigori and I'm a Nephila."

She felt her mom tense. Then Lynn loosened her embrace and stood back to stare at her. The look on her face told Claire that she understood completely.

Claire lay on the couch with her head in her mother's lap, her throat dry from talking and her eyes swollen from crying. Her mom had made herself some coffee, and over the past hour had sipped at it slowly while Claire detailed everything that had happened since Book Day: the visions, the tactile nature of her powers, the memory buried in Tom's jacket, Alec's true ident.i.ty, his heroics with the scaffolding, their feelings for each other, and the visit from Vincent, who had guaranteed her and her mother's safety-but at a terrible cost.

There was only one detail she'd carefully left out-that a mysterious messenger angel named Helena had been contacting her telepathically and had just prophesied her death.

"Ever since the day you were born," her mom said, heaving a deep sigh as she stroked Claire's hair, "I've been afraid that something like this would happen. I'm so sorry you didn't feel you could confide in me before. But even though I know this is heartbreaking for you, it's still not half as bad as I'd ever imagined. Because you're still alive. And now you're going to be safe. If the Watcher who came to find you has agreed to leave you be, then all my prayers for the last sixteen years have been answered. There's nothing left to worry about."

Claire struggled to bury the image of the cougar's terrifying jaws that hovered at the corners of her mind. There was no point in talking about the vision-it would only frighten her mom, and it might never come true. "Right," Claire said aloud. "Nothing to worry about."

Her mom paused, as if catching something in Claire's tone. "Are you sure you've told me everything, honey?"

Claire sat up, nodding as she dried her eyes on her sleeve. "Tell me, Mom, how did you get through this?"

"I don't know that I ever did. I was so focused on taking care of you and keeping you safe-I think my heart scarred over instead of healing."

"Tell me about him, Mom."

Her mom hesitated again, then said, "Take my hand and close your eyes."

Claire looked at her, confused. "What?"

"You obviously inherited one of your father's gifts. So-"

"One of them?" Claire interrupted. "What else could he do?" Maybe her mom would know what frightened Vincent so much. But Lynn shook her head.

"I don't know. He never told me." Her mom took her hand and held it. "But Tom used to do this whenever I had something on my mind. Trust me, you'll see."

"Okay." Claire closed her eyes.

"I was sixteen when I met him," her mom began. "I was spending the summer in the Hamptons with my family, like we did every year. I met him at a party at one of my parents' friend's houses."

As her mom narrated, Claire began to see images of what her mom was describing, from her mom's point of view: A party was in full swing at a sw.a.n.ky house. Well-dressed people of all ages were drinking from crystal goblets and snacking on tiny, expensive-looking appetizers from pa.s.sing trays.

"I didn't even want to be there, and I was thinking of sneaking out when I saw him."

Across the room, a tall, very attractive man with olive skin and dark, wavy brown hair-just like Claire's-was staring intently at her, as if she were the only person in the room.

Claire's heart lurched. For the first time, she was seeing her father, the man she had wondered about every single day of her life. It thrilled her to realize that she looked a lot like him.

"He was older than me-in his early twenties, I guessed-but I didn't care," her mom went on. "He was the handsomest man I'd ever seen, and different from anyone I'd ever met. He was there on a.s.signment to find an Awakened, but of course I didn't know anything about that at the time-or that he was about to postpone his mission on my account. We ended up talking the whole night, and spent the following week together. It was magical."

Claire was treated to a flash of images, showing her parents laughing at the party, walking along the beach at sunset, riding on his motorcycle, and picnicking under the stars.

"After that, he disappeared for a few months."

Claire opened her eyes. "Wow. I'm seeing it, Mom! I'm seeing it all."

Her mom squeezed her hand and smiled, then continued. "I went back to school, but I never stopped thinking about him. In November of my junior year, he showed up again outside my school. It was as if no time had pa.s.sed at all. Over the next few weeks, we fell in love. Then he disappeared again. I was heartbroken. When he showed up the third time, he finally told me the truth about who and what he was, and that he was going to leave it all behind for me. I was astonished. I told him not to do it. That I wasn't worth it. That he had a duty and he should honor it. But secretly, I wanted nothing more than for us to be together, and I was relieved that I couldn't change his mind."

Claire's mom paused now, and let go of her hand. The images stopped abruptly, and Claire opened her eyes.

"I'd like to keep the visuals of this next part private." Lynn took a sip of coffee and went on, blus.h.i.+ng a little. "One night, we ... made love, and I soon found out I was pregnant with you. He insisted on marrying me, and I said yes. I was young, but I adored him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. My parents, however, were furious and threw me out of the house."

Her mom took Claire's hand again, and the images resumed in Claire's mind. "I left high school after my junior year, and we got an apartment in Manhattan. As soon as I turned eighteen, Tom and I were married at city hall. I got my GED while working at a video store. Tom, who'd spent two centuries acquiring a variety of skills, and was not only a psychic but a master at forging the doc.u.ments necessary in his former ... occupation, got a job as a stockbroker."

Claire laughed. "He must have made zillions."

"Not really. He could predict most of the twists and turns of the market, but he had a high code of ethics. He didn't want to take advantage of his gift, and thought it best to play it safe so that no one would suspect anything. With you on the way, we rented a house in Brooklyn. We were deliriously happy for the next year and a half, even though we had to keep looking over our shoulders, worried that the Grigori would come looking for him-and you. The day you were born was the happiest day of our lives. You were so perfect, so beautiful."

Claire was treated to an image of her father playing with her as a baby. Love lit his face as he held her tiny, chubby, smiling infant self up above his head. He laughed with delight as he brought her close and covered her giggling face with kisses. The image brought happy tears to Claire's eyes.

"We tried to pretend that everything would be okay, that we were safe in our little world, and that no one would ever find us in a city with millions of people. But one day, when you were six months old, Tom didn't come home. I was in a panic. I didn't hear from him until the next morning when he called me at my job. Tom said that a Watcher had descended on him as he was heading for the subway. The Watcher insisted he didn't want to rat on a fellow Grigori, even if he had gone AWOL-the penalties were unthinkable. But he suspected Tom of a far worse crime: of being involved with a human female. If it was true and Tom gave the woman up, the Watcher said, he'd try to pave the way with the Elders for Tom to return to his calling. Otherwise, he'd turn Tom in and make certain he-and his 'sp.a.w.n,' if any-faced the consequences."

Claire opened her eyes with a sense of foreboding. "That sounds like Vincent."

"Maybe it was. Tom never told me the Watcher's name. All he said was that his life-our lives-were all on the line. He tried to kill the Watcher, but failed, and then he ran."

"Did he ever come home?"

Her mom shook her head, tears studding her eyes as she let go of Claire's hand. "No. He said the danger was too great. He couldn't take that chance. He'd set up a bank account for us with everything he had. He told me to pack up and leave town immediately, change my name, start over somewhere else, and never try to find him. That he would come to us when he could. If he could. That's the last time I ever heard from him."

"And you've been running ever since," Claire said softly. "I wonder what happened to him. Where did he go? Is he even still alive?"

"I ask myself that every single day. I pray that he's all right. It's a comfort to at least know now that he was never caught." Her mom wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, honey. But you can see why it had to be a secret. I kept hoping that you wouldn't Awaken, and that there'd be no need to tell you any of it."

"Well, I know everything now. And it looks like history has just repeated itself." All the heartbreak of the present returned with a crus.h.i.+ng blow, and Claire sank back against the sofa, tears forming in her own eyes. "Mom, I'm so sorry that happened to you-to us." With a sigh, she added, "What am I supposed to do now?"

"I know it's hard, sweetheart. But the carousel of life is going to keep spinning, and you need to just hang on and move with it."

"How?"

"You have schoolwork to do, a scholars.h.i.+p to maintain, friends to hang out with, and colleges to apply to eventually. And as you do all these things, you will one day meet another boy that you like."

"What? No way." Claire shook her head emphatically. "That's never going to happen."

"It will. I understand that your heart is breaking right now, but it will heal, if you let it."

"Yours never did."

"Don't make the same mistake I did, Claire. Don't shut yourself off from loving other people, just because this one relations.h.i.+p didn't work out."

"This one relations.h.i.+p?" Claire repeated quietly. "Mom, you make it sound so mundane and ordinary. But it isn't."

Her mom looked at her pointedly. "Did you fall in love with Alec because of what he is?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then, deep down, he's just a boy you connected with. And there are lots more of them. I know it won't be easy. But you deserve all the best that life has to offer, Claire. You are what you are ... because of me. Because of the choices I made. It will kill me if you're denied happiness and love because of those choices. Please, honey, promise me that you'll try to keep an open mind about the future."

A brief silence fell. Finally, Claire said solemnly, "I'll try."

Her mom kissed Claire's hair and said with a small smile, "Good. I think the first step on the road to recovery is this dance on Sat.u.r.day."

Claire drew back and stared at her mother, aghast. "You don't seriously expect me to go to Homecoming now?"

"I expect nothing. It's your call, but I hope you will. You're up for princess. I know how these things work. Someone else will ask you."

"I don't care. I don't want to go with anyone but Alec."

"Well then, you can always go with your friends. Just think about it, okay? You have a whole week to figure it out."

It was four a.m. by the time Claire went to bed. She cried herself to sleep, and then dreamed of Alec. They were back in the phantom restaurant Vincent had created, and Alec was holding her hand. I'm sorry, he was saying brokenly. You'll be happier without me. This is good-bye. The dream ended with her standing alone on the hillside at school, a ferocious cougar leaping out at her from the darkness. She awoke in a panic, gasping, her pillow wet with tears.

Claire slept in the next morning. She spent all day Sunday in bed, struggling to eat a few bites of the food her mom brought in on trays. She turned off her cell phone, refusing to talk to anyone. Time stood still. All color seemed to have faded from the world. Even the sky outside was dim and gray, and a light rain began to fall, as if the universe was weeping with her.

It was impossible to believe she would never see Alec again. Knowing that he was going back to a lonely job and an existence he despised-always on the road, fitting in nowhere, a monk a.s.sa.s.sin-that he'd given up his dream of living among humans, all because of her, was too terrible to contemplate. And yet, she realized, a far more horrifying scenario might ensue. If Vincent couldn't convince the Council to go easy on Alec when he returned, Alec might be put to death-and Claire would never even know. She was consumed by misery and guilt, as if a part of her heart and her guts had been torn out, leaving her ripped and bleeding, never to mend.

Monday dawned gloomy and overcast. Claire awoke groggy and puffy-eyed, and wore sungla.s.ses to avoid questioning looks. When she opened her locker, she saw with a jolt of fresh pain that all of Alec's stuff was still there. Maybe Vincent hadn't given him time to clear it out before making him leave. Although it was difficult to see Alec's books and the black metal box, in a way, Claire was glad; it was physical proof that Alec existed, that he had once been a part of her life. She heard Erica's voice behind her and turned.

"Claire! I called and called yesterday, but it went straight to voice mail. Where've you been?" Without pausing for a reply, Erica went on excitedly, "Did you see the list? I've been dying to tell you all weekend. You and Alec knocked 'em dead on Friday. You're singing in the Homecoming a.s.sembly!"

The news. .h.i.t Claire like a punch in the stomach. "That's great," she responded brokenly, "but you can cross us off, because Alec and I won't be performing."

"Why not?"

"Because he just left town for good."

Erica let out a quiet gasp. "What? Why? "

Claire felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. "To save my life."

thirty-one.

By the end of lunch, Claire had filled Erica and Brian in on everything, including her all-nighter with her mom. They were supportive and empathetic, but nothing they said could comfort her.

It was strange to be surrounded by people who were chattering happily and going on with life as usual. To Claire it felt as if everything she knew and loved had come to a cras.h.i.+ng end, like the scaffolding that had nearly collapsed on her. Alec was gone, and if Helena's warning and vision proved true, his sacrifice would be for nothing. Unless Claire could figure out how to stop it, she might die anyway-from a mountain lion attack.

Claire felt hollow, empty. She took notes in her remaining cla.s.ses like an automaton, without really hearing or absorbing anything. The one thing she did notice was that a dozen or more girls had shown up in school wearing elbow-length gloves. She and Erica seemed to have started a fad after all.

After Spanish-the last cla.s.s of the day-Neil caught up with her just outside the door.

"I heard about Alec." There was sympathy in his golden-brown eyes.

"I think everyone has by now." Claire kept her hands in her pockets, her voice flat.

Neil walked beside her down the path toward their lockers. "Is he at least going to stick around long enough to take you to the Homecoming Dance?"

"No. He's already gone."

"That's messed up. I don't get why he's leaving. He seemed to really like you."

Sorrow gathered in her chest and throat. "It's a long story, but it doesn't matter."

"It should matter." Neil frowned. "I know he hurt you, and I'm sorry. But I hope you'll still go to the dance."

"You sound like my mother."

"Should I be complimented or insulted?"

"I think both. Neil, if you were in my shoes, you wouldn't want to go either."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Brennan, but I don't think I'd fit in your shoes. I'd fall on my face."

In spite of the sadness pooling within her, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"What's that? Are you smiling?" Neil craned his face down toward hers, taunting her with a goofy, bug-eyed expression. "Don't do that, Claire. Do anything but smile!"

Claire's reluctant grin grew wider. Now she understood what Alec had meant about Neil's innate sense of charm. Maybe it wasn't a superpower, but it might as well have been. With an exasperated grunt, she covered her face with her hands. "I haven't heard that line since I was in kindergarten."

"And I can't believe it still works! Claire, what you need now is a project to throw yourself into."

"A project?"

"To distract you. I say it's time to start a campaign to win that princess crown."

Claire uncovered her face and glared at him. "I'd rather crawl into a hole and die."

"Also a n.o.ble pursuit," Neil quipped. "But if you change your mind-and if you decide to go to the dance-I'd be honored to escort you."

Claire was shocked. "I thought you would have asked Gabrielle by now."

"I can't stand Gabrielle. All she talks about is herself. I just smile and nod so that I don't seem rude."

Claire didn't know what to say.

"No pressure," Neil added quickly. "Take all week to think about it if you want to, but if it's a yes, just make sure to tell me by six o'clock on Sat.u.r.day, so I have time to throw on a suit before I pick you up. Five forty-five, if you want me to wear a tie."

A little laugh bubbled up inside Claire. "Thanks, Neil," she said, her thoughts and emotions in turmoil, "but don't wait around all week for me. You should ask somebody else."