Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) (13 page)

She gave me another long, hard look. “If there is something you’re not telling me, Maggie, now is the time to spill. You don’t know what these people are capable of in the name of protecting themselves.”

“There’s nothing, Mom. I just want to know. Wouldn’t you?” I added some acid to my tone so that it seemed like
she
was the one annoying
me
. Good old reverse psychology.

She nodded slowly. “I guess I would have at your age. Before I knew better. Back when I was naive enough to think I could control my own powers.” Funny, for a second it seemed like her powers were still tip-top, because her piercing green eyes were burrowing into my soul. “If you’re lying to me…”

I must have looked sincere when I shook my head wordlessly, because she let me off the hook.

“All right. I’m trusting you. But either way, I don’t like revisiting this kind of stuff and I think we’ve talked enough for today. Now go get a bowl of chili and come out to watch TV with me. On this episode of
Chopped
they have to make an appetizer out of cow tongue and marshmallow fluff.

Which would still probably be better than her chili. I blew out a breath and stood, not sure where to go from there. I’d lied to my mother and hadn’t learned much of anything that would help, and I hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out the two most important things.

Was the easier of the paths necessarily the right one? And, more importantly, would Mac Finnegan turn out to be my salvation or my destruction?

…

Dear She,

My ten-year-old sister and I can’t seem to get along at all. We fight constantly, but it’s like our parents only ever see her side of it. She’s younger than I am, spoiled rotten and constantly up my ass, following me around. How can I get my mom and dad to see her for the conniving little witch she is so they’ll get off my back about us being “close” and spending “sister time” together?

Signed,

Had It Up to HERE

Dear Had It,

I totally feel your pain. It’s hard when you can’t get along with someone in your house and it’s not your fault. If you’re being judged unfairly, sit down with your parents and explain why. As an only child, I wished for siblings all the time, but reading your e-mail makes me think I got lucky! If your parents won’t listen, then do your best to stay clear of her until she grows up some. Install a lock on your bedroom door, join some after-school activities that have you out of the house more. Hopefully this is just a phase and you guys will be super tight as you get older.

Forever yours,

She

I hit send, and then spent the rest of my Sunday writing in my journal, flip-flopping back and forth a thousand times, and basically wigging out while I thought about Mac and his offer. One second I was 100 percent sure I was going to take him up on it. Go to the Council, ask them to strip me of my power, and then I’d come back, good as new. Or, good as I had been before I’d started to change. Which, at times, seemed perfect from where I was standing now.

Then, on a dime, I went the other way. It wasn’t like losing my powers would turn back the hands of time. Eric would still be in the hospital, and I’d still be to blame for that. Plus, there was no way to know if going with Mac would backfire. Who knew? I could admit to hurting Eric, have my powers stripped, and wind up in some sort of dungeon getting sodomized by a minotaur for the rest of my life like some spare level of hell in
Dante’s Inferno
.

Mac wasn’t my friend, and I was already scraping the bottom of the barrel in the trust department.

But the alternative wasn’t a whole lot cheerier. I had these dangerous powers, which I had no clue how to handle, and no one to help me figure them out. I briefly entertained the idea of calling Libby and telling her what had happened with Mac, but in the end, my fear kept me from hitting the call button. What if I said something I shouldn’t have and they came and wiped her? I didn’t know what that all entailed, exactly, but it didn’t sound like a bowl of popcorn. And who knew? They might take something extra that she needed, like the ability to put together weird outfits. I wasn’t about to risk that.

In spite of my confusion, though, come Monday morning, everything changed. It was the strangest thing. I’d expected to be up all night, but instead, my brain must have overheated from too much use and I’d crashed into a near coma the second my head hit the pillow. And when I woke up, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

I ate a healthy breakfast of oatmeal with chocolate chips and then promptly chucked it up when my stomach remembered that I was about to spend my lunch chilling with the first semi I’d ever met outside of my mom and Gram. Oh, and then according to said semi, I was supposed to either tell him about that time I almost killed a boy and agree to give up my powers or basically challenge him to a duel that I had no clue how to fight in, never mind win. The same semi who, by the way, also knew for a fact that I was a thief and thought I gave terrible advice to needy students under a fake name.

By the time the lunch bell rang, I was a straight-up wreck but no less certain of my path.

It was about to get real.

I left chemistry and dodged Libby in the hall, telling her I had to see Mr. Foster to talk about an art project. It was a long walk to the quad area, and I considered turning back a dozen times. It was only when I thought of the look on his face when he’d said
Don’t blow me off
that kept my feet moving in the right direction.

I got to the double doors and glanced around. It was a balmy forty-five degrees, but still, even the heartier kids avoided the quad after October. Mac and I would almost certainly be alone, which was preferable.

I hoped.

I stepped outside and made my way over to the two long stone benches in the center of the rectangular, manicured space. In the spring, flowers and shrubs dotted the area, but today it was gray besides a few evergreens, like the rest of New Hampshire.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and glanced down at the time. He was three minutes late. Oh well. I’d done my part. I turned to walk away but just as I did, the doors opened again and Mac stepped through. The riot in my stomach kicked up again, and I sat down on one of the benches. Even in these circumstances, I couldn’t deny how gorgeous he was or the pull I felt toward him the second he came into view. I didn’t have long to think on that, though. His long strides ate up the distance between us, and then he sat on the bench across from me.

“Maggie.” He kicked back, his body as relaxed as his face.

I jammed a sweaty hand into my coat pocket and tried to ignore the cold seeping from the stone through my jeans.

“Mac.”

His stormy gaze searched my face, and I got the impression that he was fairly confident he knew where I’d landed on the whole would I/wouldn’t I issue. That arrogance fueled me enough to pull the trigger.

I took a deep breath and blew the words out in a rush. “I’m going to pass.”

He stared at me for a long moment and then scratched his chin with his index finger before looking away. “You’re going to…pass.”

No anger from him. That was a good but surprising start.

I shifted on the hard seat and pushed forward, wanting to get through it ASAP so I could go blow chunks in the corner. “Yep. So, you know, thanks but no thanks.”

Again, a long silence paired with an even longer, assessing look, and then, “I’m not sure what you mean. I offered you two choices. Which one are you passing on?”

Now he’d taken to speaking verrrry slowly, like he was talking to the village idiot, and that spurred me the rest of the way to bravery and cured my nausea.

“Both. I’m not going with you to the Council, and you’re not going to break me. See, I don’t know if you got this about me yet, but I’m way tougher than I look, and I can take whatever you dish out.” My voice got stronger with every word, and by this time, I’d worked up a good head of steam. I was sick of being backed into a corner, first by Eric, then by Mom, and now by Mac. Fuck that.

“So I’m going to give
you
two choices. You can either work with me. Talk to me about my powers. Help me learn how to use them correctly. Teach me.” I stood and stared down at him, grateful for once not to have to look up at him. “Or you can plan to stay in Crestwood for the rest of your life following me around like a lost puppy.”

I don’t know what I expected. For him to agree to help me, ideally. Or argue, more likely. Maybe even to burst into applause before announcing that I’d passed “the test” and was free to go. But whatever I’d imagined, his slow, lethal smile wasn’t it, and the back of my neck broke out in an icy sweat.

“All right, then.” He stood, and I stepped back, shaken. His shoulders seemed even bigger than they had a second ago, and I wished I’d thought to pack some pepper spray or something. If he really was a bad guy, what was to stop him from tossing me over his shoulder and taking me with him by force?

As afraid as I was at that moment, I knew he wouldn’t, though. He was saddled with some sort of code. Honor or duty that tied his hands in some way. I saw it in him. I could feel it. Underneath all the swag and insulting behavior, I knew there was something good at the core. In fact, I was banking on it.

“So, y-you’ll help me?” An ember of hope started to form in my heart, and I waited breathlessly for his answer.

He gave one curt shake of his head. “Sorry, no. I’m not in the training business.” He brushed by me and started back toward the entrance, totally chill. Like nothing had happened.

I called after him, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t care, you know. If you tell on me about the column. Or even the jewelry and stuff.” I’d already resigned myself to both of those fates. Libby would understand and Bink would forgive me and be my friend no matter what. I didn’t really care about anyone else. If I got kicked out of school, it would just give me more time with Gram. Besides, another year and a half and I was out of here anyway.

He slowed and turned to face me, his gray eyes granite cold. “You’ve got it so wrong, silly girl. You think getting you expelled from school for stealing helps my cause? That would only make it harder for me to track your every move.” He shook his head. “Nah, you can expect to stick around here and see me everywhere. I can guarantee that you’ll break before I do. You’ve already got one strike, and I’ll be there to pitch you number two.”

I didn’t watch a whole lot of sports but I was pretty sure of one thing, and it gave me a glimmer of hope. “Isn’t it supposed to be three strikes before you’re out?”

“That’s when you’re playing a game. This is no game, Magpie. This is dead serious business.” He pushed the doors open and stepped through them, calling over his shoulder, “Your decision has only confirmed the fact that your kind is nothing but a bunch of parasites. From now on, consider me the exterminator.”

I was still staring after him, tears blurring my vision, when the doors closed behind him.

Chapter Seven

Dear Had It Up to HERE,

How old did you say you were? If you’re almost an adult and can’t figure out a way to get along with a ten-year-old, or at least manipulate her into getting along with you, then it’s you who has a problem. Listen up. She just wants your attention. Good or bad, she’ll take whatever she can get. Probably a girl’s night with some ice cream and a scary movie or a trip to get your nails done together and a stop off at the arcade would be enough to make her change her bratty tune. Give it one try, and if I’m wrong, I’ll buy your lunch for a week. You know who I am, and if you don’t, ask around. Someone will find me, although I don’t think that will be necessary.

Hope it helps,

He

For once, reading his nonsense didn’t add to my misery. Because if someone did ask around and find him and word got out, it was only a matter of time until he got expelled, or suspended at the very least. It didn’t solve my problem, but it sure would be nice to get him out of my life for a while. Plus, at least the column would stop.

I hit delete on the latest e-mail and then the block sender button with a sigh. It had been more than a week since our convo in the quad, and so far, aside from him keeping up with the advice columns, all had been eerily quiet on the Mac front. I could lie and say I was relieved, but I wasn’t. With every hour that passed without him making a move, I got tenser.

I’d run the possible reasons for his silence around in my mind and had been waffling between two. Number one: he’d decided to live and let live and was going to play fair and just keep an eye on me in my natural habitat rather than screwing with me until I flipped my shit. Or number two: this was a form of psychological warfare. And I was losing.

It wasn’t that I’d come close to cracking or going psycho the way I might have if he’d done something awful. Just the fear of that had me peeking around corners and under my bed like the first-to-die chick in a Scream movie.

I still had no idea who or what he was other than the vague stuff he’d told me, which might or might not be true, and no frame of reference for how far he was willing to go to get me to do what he wanted. Were we talking filling my bed with deer ticks or adding a few tablespoons of Drano to my iced tea? Pretty wide range there.

That was the thing about dealing with ancient cultures and gods and shit. Things that seemed so ridiculous to me could actually be the norm for all I knew.

From what I’d learned in mythology class, Mac was telling the truth about one thing. The gods and demigods of old were pretty gangster. If they felt wronged, they’d saddle you with a headful of snakes and a bitchin’ face without even breaking a sweat. Who knew if Mac, whatever he was, subscribed to that same type of over-the-top thinking.