C
HAPTER
30
“W
e need to talk about that?” Luc asked, when we were far enough away that he could shed the concealment spell.
“Not even a little,” I said. I needed time to absorb what I’d done and why. The impulse that had seized me was too fragile for words, and too important to risk. So we walked in silence back to my house, Luc’s hand gentle on my arm, his concern palpable.
“Thank you,” he said finally. “Cost you some, that meeting.”
You won’t understand the price until it’s too late. I shivered and tucked my nose deeper in my scarf. “Everything costs,” I said, the thick wool making my voice muzzy and indistinct.
“You could have taken the deal. Left with Cujo. Gone to New York, the way you and Vee had planned. He was givin’ you a shot at your dream, and you turned it down.”
“Maybe it’s time to wake up,” I said. So much for not discussing it. “I’m not going to ask you to kill a man in cold blood. Not for my sake. This isn’t your fight. It’s not even your world.”
“You turned him down for my sake?”
It wasn’t a lie to tell him no. I had turned down Billy’s offer for lots of reasons. I didn’t want to follow in my uncle’s footsteps. I didn’t want to use the people I cared about as leverage, or dictate the terms of Colin’s life simply because I could. And maybe I’d turned it down for Luc and me, too, as a way of ensuring any possible future we had was untainted by my family or his duties. But telling him that would set off more discussions. And decisions. I settled instead for a slanted truth. “Partly.”
“Why you gotta do that?” he asked. “You can’t keep sacrificing yourself for other people, Mouse. Not even me.”
“You should be thrilled,” I said. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to choose a life with the Arcs?”
“This is you giving up your life to save everyone else. You have got to stop, Mouse. Your life matters, and if you keep acting like it doesn’t, everyone’s going to suffer. Look at the bigger picture.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, lacing my voice with a sweetness I didn’t feel. “I was under the impression you wanted me to sacrifice my Flat life so that I could speak for the magic, stop the Seraphim, and take a seat on the Quartoren. Now you’re saying I should just do what I want? God, Luc. You think the entire reason I exist is to give a voice to the magic, like my own doesn’t even matter. Even the name is an insult—the Vessel. Like I’m empty without the magic. Like I’m
nothing.
”
My muscles were clenched and shaking with anger—not at Luc, but at my own helplessness—and I quickened my steps. Turning down Billy’s offer was the right thing to do, but part of me mourned the future I’d just given up. All I wanted now was to go home.
Luc caught up to me just across the street from my house. He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me to face him. “You’re not nothing. You are strong and smart and stubborn as hell. I have watched you do amazing things without the magic, and it’s only made me love you more.” His voice turned sharper, as if he was angry, too. “But you have got to stop running from this. You’re so afraid that magic is going to take over your life, you’re letting fear do it instead—and that’s even worse. Don’t. Find something else to define you.”
“Like what?” I had spent my entire life defined by other people. By my past. Luc defined himself by his fate. None of those options appealed to me.
“Your choices,” he said, and touched my lips with a single finger. “And you’ve got to make ’em for yourself, and soon, or people are going to take those choices away.”
“Do you have choices?”
“Some. Now I’m trying to do right by them.”
Across the street, my mother peered out the picture window. “I should go.”
“Mouse,” he said as I started home. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Thinking of me.”
I didn’t tell him how impossible it was to do otherwise, lately.
C
HAPTER
31
“W
ho was that boy?” my mother demanded as I hung up my coat. Apparently we weren’t going to wait to start the interrogation.
I’d kept Luc apart from my life for as long as I could, but if I had even the slightest hope of keeping my Flat life, it was time to introduce him. Gradually. “A guy I know.”
“You were walking with him.”
“Yes, Mom. We were walking. People do it all the time.”
“And what does Colin have to say about this?”
I tried to keep my voice steady. “Colin has very little to say to me right now. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
The thin, hard line of her mouth softened a bit. “I’d hoped you two would be able to sort through all of that.”
Not for the first time, I wondered how much my mom truly saw. More than I gave her credit for, obviously, if she knew how bad things were between us. “You said to give him some space. Dad said to give him some space. Behold, space.”
“Taking up with some strange boy is not what we meant. Making Colin jealous is not the way to go about winning him back.”
“I’m not trying to make him jealous.” If I’d wanted to make him jealous, I would have let him think more had happened between me and Luc than truly had. “And Luc’s not a strange boy.”
“Luc? That’s his name? How do you know him?”
I touched the scar on my palm. “He was a friend of Verity’s.”
“Good heavens, Mo. I thought we’d put that behind us.” She pressed a fist against her heart, concern deepening the lines around her mouth. I knew what she was thinking—after Verity’s death, I’d disappeared somewhere she couldn’t follow and come back full of secrets. Now I was slipping away again, without Colin to pull me back.
“It’s never going to be behind me, Mom.” No matter what my motives were now, it had all started in that alley. My path changed in that instant. I had changed. Forever.
“I’m not saying you should forget about her. But it’s not healthy to dwell on the past. Not when you should be thinking about your future.”
“I am thinking about it,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t think about anything else.”
“Let it go, Annie,” said my father, emerging from the basement. “What did Billy want to see you about?”
“My work schedule,” I said carefully. “He needs me tomorrow.”
My father’s scowl made it clear he understood which job I was referring to—and that he didn’t approve. “And you agreed?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
My mother huffed and busied herself with dinner. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork. I don’t want you thinking you can let your grades slip just because you’re graduating. Or because of boys, Mo. You’re too sensible for that.”
Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. My parents exchanged glances.
“It seems a little late for company,” my mom said. “Is it Colin?”
“I doubt it,” I muttered, and opened the door. “Hey!”
Lena stood shivering on the porch. “Bad time?”
“Excellent time.” Any excuse to avoid talking to my parents. “Come on in. What’s up?”
“I brought your homework,” she said. “And your cell. And a well-developed sense of curiosity.”
“Lena, come in!” said my mom. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I made plenty.”
“I wish I could,” she said. “Maybe another time?”
“Of course,” my mom replied, and stood in the doorway, clearly not interested in leaving us alone to chat.
“Come on upstairs,” I said. “You can fill me in.”
“I have had a very weird day” she said as I closed the door behind us. “First, Constance Grey keeps asking me if I’ve heard from you. If I know what’s wrong or when you’re coming back. I am assuming the girl has your phone number and knows how to dial, so why is she asking me? She doesn’t even like you. Then your guidance counselor pulls me out of class to ask if I’ll bring your stuff home, since you went home sick. Except everyone knows you weren’t sick, because if you were, Colin would have come and picked you up. But he showed up at school, right on schedule, and I had to tell him you were gone. Which means she’s covering for you. Again, weird.”
I said nothing.
“And then there’s your phone. Which has been ringing constantly. I finally answered it, and whoever was on the other end hung up. And then called back. Weirdness abounds.”
I pulled my phone out of the bag and checked it. Jenny Kowalski. Which meant something was going on, and she either needed my help or wanted to warn me. Either way, bad news. I wondered if the cops at Morgan’s this afternoon were there for me or my dad.
“Thanks for bringing this back.”
She threw herself down on the chair. “So. Is this one of those times where you tell me it’s complicated and you can’t explain, and you’re really sorry?”
I didn’t even bother to answer.
“Okay,” she said. “But tell me this much: whenever you pull this routine, Luc’s involved. Is he back?”
“Yes.”
“And are you two ...”
“I don’t know.”
“You and Colin are really done, then?”
I pressed a hand against my stomach, as if it might stop the nausea that swamped me every time I asked myself that question. “He’s really angry, Lena. Like, he might never stop being angry. I can’t fix it.”
“So Luc’s your rebound?”
“Luc is ...” More than a rebound. More than an alternative, even. Luc was all the things I could be, and all the things that scared me, and all the things I’d ever dreamed about in the most secret, most hidden places of my heart. Which made him more dangerous than anything else in my life, Mob or magic. “Complicated.”
Lena toyed with a pencil on my desk. “How much trouble are you in?”
I nudged the phone and met her eyes. “A lot.”
“You should let me help you out.”
“It’s not that simple.” I couldn’t expose Lena to the Arcs—and I wouldn’t expose her to the Outfit. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Mo. Listen to me. Let me help you
out
.”
The intensity of her expression—pinched with worry, color high on her olive skin—made me realize what she was saying. She didn’t mean she’d pass along messages or cover for me when I skipped class. She could give me another way out—a new identity, a fresh start. But there was no hiding from the magic, even if I wanted to.
And I didn’t want to. There was too much at stake in both of my worlds. If I left, I wanted it to be because I was heading toward something, not running away.
“I appreciate it. But I have to see this through.”
She bit her lip. “You’re sure? We can make you disappear.”
“I don’t want to disappear anymore.”
“Okay,” she said after a long minute. “Then you’d better get cracking on Calc. Test tomorrow.”
I groaned.
“See? Now you wish you’d said yes, don’t you?” We headed back downstairs and she gave me a quick hug. “Tell me if you change your mind, okay?”
“I won’t. But thanks.”
After dinner, I went upstairs and listened to all ten of Jenny’s messages. They were nearly identical—the only difference was that each sounded more panicked than the last.
“It’s me. Listen, I just got a call from Nick. He says to forget about the records for The Slice. Or Morgan’s. Everything.” She was holding back tears, without much success, her frustration palpable even in voice mail. “They thank us for our help, but the investigation will proceed without our involvement, and oh, hey, they’re sorry about my dead dad.”
I heard her blow her nose, take a deep breath, and continue. “They’re cutting us out of the loop, Mo. I think they’re going to move soon, and they don’t want us involved. You need to be ready. And so does your boyfriend.”
I flopped back on the bed, ignoring the tightness in my chest at the reminder that Colin wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, trying to formulate a plan. The police wouldn’t go after Colin, I was almost sure. Billy had long ago cut him out of anything important, anything illegal. The minute he’d realized we were together, Billy had decided Colin wasn’t loyal enough to be trusted. My mom, of course, would be protected. She might have an idea of what was going on, but she hadn’t participated. She’d been kept in the dark, used again and again.
Which left my dad. And he’d thrown himself back into life with the Outfit with such enthusiasm, no one would question his loyalty to my uncle. He might not have been back for very long, but he’d certainly managed to ingratiate himself with the Forellis again, and I didn’t doubt there was a mountain of evidence against him already.
I’d begged him not to, and he’d ignored me, even after the police had made it clear they were watching. He’d been so convinced he was doing right by us, making up for lost time. And now we’d lose him all over again.
Unless I warned him.
The danger was that he’d tell Billy. He’d realize I was working with the police, and he’d choose the Outfit over me. Again.
But he might not. He might decide to run. Maybe he’d even convince my mom to go with him. But if he didn’t—if he stayed loyal to Billy and the Forellis, he’d be heading back to Terre Haute, and my mom would be devastated.
I didn’t know what to do. Tell my dad and risk my shot at Billy, or stay quiet and send him back to prison?
I reached for my phone by instinct, dialed the numbers before I realized what I was doing.
“What’s wrong?” Colin asked, answering on the first ring.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in the safe, familiar sound. It was so tempting to pour out all of my worries, let him tell me what to do, let him take care of it.
But I’d told him I could take care of myself. Calling him in the middle of the night to fix my life was admitting I couldn’t. And I wasn’t ready to admit that, or go back to being the sheltered schoolgirl he’d met a lifetime ago.
“Nothing,” I lied. Everything. Including us. “I’m going to school tomorrow. I figured you’d want to know.”
“You called me at ...” I heard the rustling of sheets as he sat up, no doubt reaching for the alarm clock. “Midnight? To tell me that? What happened when you met with Billy?”
Of course he knew about the meeting. He’d probably been watching Morgan’s the whole time. “He wanted to renegotiate our deal. I said no.”
“Why?”
“I figured you would not appreciate me making decisions about your future without talking to you. Or at all.”
“You figured right,” he said. “What did he want from you?”
“He wants the magic. To take down Ekomov, he says, but he’d keep hammering until he was running the entire Outfit.”
“And you said no.” Grim satisfaction carried through the connection. “He’s not going to give in.”
“Neither am I.”
There was a long silence. I listened to the sound of his breathing, deep and regular, let myself relax into the rhythm of it. For a second, things were good again.
“You and Luc saw the Quartoren today.”
My eyes snapped open, hearing a wealth of questions in his blunt statement, only a few of which I knew how to answer. “We have a plan. You won’t like it.”
“I never do. Will it make a difference what I say?”
“Not this time.”
“Did it ever?”
I exhaled slowly. “Every day. From the minute we met.”
“That’s something, anyway.” The line fell quiet again. “It’s late, Mo. Go to sleep.”
The weary dismissal felt like a slap. “Sure. Sorry to have woken you.” But I didn’t hang up the phone.
“Was there something else?” he asked.
My resolve weakened. There was an awful, echoing sensation in my chest, and I pressed a fist against my mouth to keep from begging for another chance.
“Mo.” He paused. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Sorry.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said softly. This time, I did hang up.