Torn. Part 21

Tonight was the first time he'd encouraged me to think about what I wanted instead of giving me orders. Grilling him about a past he'd never wanted to talk about seemed like a lousy way to repay him. Instead I leaned against him, feeling safer in the darkened cab of his truck than anywhere else. My eyelids grew heavy, and we rode in silence until he pulled up in front of my house.

"Get some rest," he said as I climbed out. "Worry about the ID tomorrow."

I considered telling him there was more than my uncle's demands worrying me, but I didn't. There were limits to what Colin could understand, no matter how much he'd surprised me in one evening.

CHAPTER 20.

As it turned out, I didn't need to worry about the identification, at least not right away. Kowalski didn't contact me, and neither did Uncle Billy. When I asked Colin about the unexpected calm, he shrugged and said a little time helped when you had a decision to make.

Luc must have been operating on the same principle. I kept expecting him to pop out from a locker or drag me into a cla.s.sroom for another trip Between, but I didn't see him for more than a week. He hadn't vanished completely-I opened my locker one afternoon before AP Chem and was caught in an avalanche of jasmine blossoms. As I finger-combed them out of my hair, trying not to grin like an idiot, Lena shook her head knowingly.

Guys had always gone for Verity, not me, and I had been fine with that. They'd bring along a friend, we'd all go out together a few times, and then lose touch. Pleasant, but not memorable. Nothing that really shook me. Certainly, none of them had been worth enduring my mother's endless lectures about What Boys Were After and What Nice Girls Didn't Do.

Luc, though, shook me plenty, and it wasn't only his magic. Every time I picked another waxy white petal out of my collar or notebook, I felt another wash of emotion. Nervousness, guilt, and l.u.s.t tangled inside me.

Even if Luc was telling me the truth about him and Verity, it didn't change the fact that my focus should be finding her killers, not a boyfriend. Falling for him was like forgetting Verity, and that was the one thing I couldn't-wouldn't-do.

But forgetting the way he tasted, the feel of his hair under my fingertips, the warmth of his skin, seemed impossible.

I needed to prove I was still committed. To show Verity she was my priority. So in between Chem and Calc, I called the number on Evangeline's card.

"Mo," she said, "I'd been hoping to hear from you."

"You said if I wanted to . . . take over for Verity . . . there were things we had to do."

"Yes. There's a ritual you'll need to complete."

"A spell? Like before?"

"Not exactly. The concealment spell was pa.s.sive-a spell applied to you. This time you'll be an active partic.i.p.ant."

"Can I do that? Without magic?"

"If I thought otherwise, I wouldn't suggest it."

"Oh." Being an active partic.i.p.ant sounded good. I was tired of sitting back and letting everyone else take the lead while I waited in the corner or at the bar-which hadn't turned out so great, anyway. But there was still so much I didn't understand. Magic seemed like a new, exotic kind of physics, where Newton and Einstein didn't apply. I knew there were rules, but I couldn't begin to make sense of them. Instead, I blundered around breaking them. In my experience, nothing good had ever come from breaking rules.

"I'll contact Lucien," Evangeline said over the faint hiss of the connection. "Unless you'd care to."

"No!" I said it too fast. "Go ahead."

"Can you dispense with your bodyguard for the evening? We don't want an audience."

I bit my lip. "I'll try. He's kind of stubborn sometimes."

"There are steps we can take, if necessary."

The coolness in her voice alarmed me. "I'll take care of him."

"Excellent. I'll need a day to prepare. Does seven-thirty tomorrow evening work?"

"Sure."

"Verity would approve," said Evangeline. "I'm absolutely certain."

Nice to hear somebody was.

"No way." Colin folded his arms and tipped back the kitchen chair. "You know the rules."

"This is different! It's Verity's great-aunt, for G.o.d's sake. How much trouble can I get into with an antiques dealer from New Orleans?"

A smile played around the corner of his mouth. "You? I'm guessing a h.e.l.l of a lot. You could find trouble on your way to the mailbox."

"The mailbox is attached to the house," I pointed out.

"You'd manage."

I punched him lightly in the arm. "Seriously, Colin, I think she felt insulted last time. It's like you don't trust her."

"I don't trust anybody," he pointed out. "Even antiques dealers."

"Even me?"

"Your track record in the trust department isn't so hot."

"Please, Colin."

"You," he said, letting the chair thump to the floor, "were supposed to be an easy job. You know that? Your uncle asked me to keep an eye on you, and I thought. *She's had a tough time, she seems like a nice, quiet girl, and I owe Billy, so . . . sure.' But every time I turn around, you're throwing me a curve. I am beginning to think you misrepresented yourself."

I sank into the chair opposite him, clasped my hands around one knee. The idea of being more than he'd expected was oddly pleasing, but it also made me wonder what he owed my uncle. It must be big. "I really am a quiet person. I used to be, anyway, but after Verity died, things changed. I changed. And I want to go back to the way things were, but there's stuff I need to do first."

"Your life was that good before?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It was okay. Not perfect, with all the stories about Uncle Billy. And my mom is . . . well, you know what she's like." I glanced away. "My dad's coming up for parole soon."

He nodded.

"I don't want to be here once he's home."

"So, New York, huh?"

"New York. It's easier."

"I can see why you want to get back to that life," he said dryly.

"Verity was alive. I was normal, kind of. It would be nice to go back to normal."

"And going off somewhere with this woman is going to help?" He didn't try to hide his skepticism.

"Yes. Maybe." The answer had to be yes. And we had to succeed, because I couldn't keep going if I failed Verity again.

"One condition."

I tried to meet his steady, dark gaze without flinching. "What?"

"You can go, just this once. But tomorrow, you and I are going to have a talk."

"A talk?"

"About this *stuff' you need to do. I can't shake the feeling you are up to something you shouldn't be, Mo. Maybe it's for a good reason, but I still need to know about it. I'm getting used to you. It would suck if something happened because you didn't trust me."

"You'll really let me go tonight? No following us five cars back? Not that you'd catch me doing something wrong," I added hastily. "It's the principle."

"Once. Tonight. Text me when you get there and when you get back."

"That's a lot of checking in."

"You don't like it, stay home."

"You've got a deal."

CHAPTER 21.

I waited for Evangeline on the front stoop. Colin sat next to me, long legs stretched out, the picture of ease. Disapproval radiated off him, but he didn't mention it. Around us, neighbors gossiped over fences, kids played tag and rode their scooters on the b.u.mpy sidewalk. The scent of charcoal and grilled meat perfumed the air. I'd told my mother Evangeline wanted my help going through some of Verity's photos for her parents, and she'd agreed, especially once Colin signed off on the trip.

I'd switched out of my uniform into jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt, with a hoodie on top against the chill they were predicting. There had been no Indian summer this year, only a steady decline in light and warmth. Dusk was already falling, shadows lengthening, and the steps hadn't held on to much of the day's heat.

Colin stood as Evangeline pulled up. "You have your phone? It's on?"

"You said you wouldn't track me," I reminded him, glancing nervously at the silver BMW.

"I want you to be prepared," he said.

"Can you please try to think positively?"

"I'm positive you should have your phone on."

I showed him the screen. "Satisfied?"

"Not really. Call me when you get there."

"And when I get home. I'll be fine. Evangeline won't let anything happen to me." That, at least, I was sure of. I touched his sleeve lightly. "Thank you."

He rested his hand on top of mine. The weight of his fingers, warm and strong, was rea.s.suring. "Take care of yourself."

I drew away, reluctantly, and headed down the walk. I could feel his gaze on me the whole way. As we drove off, I looked back. Colin was standing on the steps, hands jammed into his pockets, the surest thing on the street, and something in my chest ached at the sight.

"My compliments," said Evangeline. "I wasn't sure you'd be able to persuade him."

"He trusts me." The words made me a little queasy. "I've been lying to him since we met, but he trusts me."

"Sometimes one must do distasteful things for the greater good," she said. "It's a lesson you should learn now, while the consequences are merely uncomfortable."

Right. "What happens tonight?"

"The Binding Ceremony. It's a ritual many Arcs go through, and it's mentioned specifically in the prophecy. If we succeed, it will confirm your ability to take Verity's place."

"And if we don't?"

"Then the Seraphim, whoever they are, have won."

"What does it do? The spell?"

"Binding allows the partic.i.p.ants to draw on each other's magic, sharing the power of the lines. For example, if a Water Arc was bound to one who uses Earth, they could use the magic of an Earth line, thanks to the ceremony. It's taxing for both parties but can be useful."

"So it increases your power."

"Yes. It also provides a degree of protection-you're considered a ward of the house you're bound to. Had you and Luc been bound before your adventure at the Dauphine, your attacker could not have used magic against you. You'll be much safer after this."

Bound to Luc? My heart began to race. Luc could protect me from Darklings and crazy Arcs, sure, but the idea that I would be bound to him-by magic or anything else-didn't seem safer. Not by a long shot.

We drove to Lake Michigan and picked our way over the rocks to the sh.o.r.eline. We watched as the fiery curve of the sun sank below the watery horizon, and she turned to me, offering her elbow. "Shall we?"

She brought me Between and I opened my eyes in a high-ceilinged stone room. A fire flickered at one end.

"Do you need a moment to recover?"

I checked myself-the room wasn't spinning and my mouth didn't have the usual about-to-barf bitterness-and shook my head. "It was easier this time."

"I've had considerably more practice than Lucien," she said. "He'll meet us here shortly."

I toyed with the drawstring of my hood and said nothing. How was I supposed to act around him now? What would Verity have done? With any other guy, she would have been just frosty enough to keep him at bay, but Luc wasn't any other guy-he was Luc, and there'd been something between them. For the eighteen zillionth time, I wondered if she'd loved him, if he loved her, if he'd only kissed me because I was as close as he could get to Verity. I'd hoped by now the idea wouldn't hurt as much.