Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) (21 page)

I knew the drill this time and barely even gasped when his splayed hands closed over my waist. My arms were already in preparation for pulling myself through the window and this time we were skin to skin. The touch sent a flash of heat through me, blazing along my skin, and then…I don’t know what happened. Some weird form of spontaneous combustion maybe, but the usual crackle between us became a snap, and the shit hit the fan. The fire alarm blared so loudly, I almost screamed.

“Go, go, go!” he whispered furiously, all but throwing me out the window.

This time I didn’t argue and went, went, went, my pulse motoring like a freight train. I’d just managed to get to my feet on the grass when he came crawling out behind me. He slammed the window shut, and we tore ass to the car like the hounds of hell were on our heels.

I didn’t dare look back, but by the time we ran through the trees and reached the car, it became clear that there was no one chasing us, or if they were, they were far behind. We piled in, both gasping for breath.

“Right, then. Everything is fine.” He turned to face me, his face lit with relief. “You good?”

“I guess so. Yeah.” I ran a hand over my face and started to laugh. “Holy crap, that was terrifying. I’m so sorry about the fire alarm—”

“Ha! Because it was all going so smoothly until then.” A smile tugged at his lips as he turned the key in the ignition, then put the car in drive.

Maybe smoothly wasn’t the word, but I’d definitely added to the urgency of the situation. My cheeks flamed, and I cleared my throat. “Still, I’m sorry. I was using the alarm casing as a foothold and I must have—”

“Nope. You need to pull a fire alarm to engage it. I think your nervous energy must have messed with the electricity. It worked out, though. No harm, no foul.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who’d gotten so hot and bothered from a simple touch that he’d almost gotten us busted.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, which was fine with me. I was too mortified to talk anyway. I hated that I didn’t know what his powers were. It left me at a huge disadvantage because what if he was some sort of telepath or could, I don’t know, sense how I was feeling about him? The idea was totally humiliating.

He pulled up into my driveway a few minutes later and, under the glare of my front porch light, the intimacy of all we’d been through in the past four hours got too heavy for me. I couldn’t wait to get out of there before it got any tenser.

“I appreciate you helping me out,” he said, twisting in his seat to face me.

I toyed with the door handle, wanting to bolt before I said something stupid. “No problem.”

“So tomorrow, same thing?” My expression must have been one of horror because he cracked out a laugh, which killed the tension. “No, not breaking and entering. I meant for training.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. I shouldered the door open and stepped out of the car. I’d been worried that things would be awkward between us after the talk we’d have, and all the close contact moments and dirty thoughts, but clearly it was totally one-sided and he was chill with everything. Great, I could be chill, too.

Not disappointing at all.

It was a relief. For sure. At least he didn’t know how I was feeling. We could both just pretend like nothing had happened and everything would be fine.

I was just about to close the car door when he called out after me. “And Mags?”

I paused, bending to peer in at him, and his lips spread into a shit-eating grin.

“Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Twelve

When I walked in the door, the whole house was quiet, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully that meant Mom had gone to bed early. It was the second day in a row that I’d missed dinner and gotten home past eight without calling. No doubt a lecture would be all cued up and ready to go the second she saw me.

I toed off my shoes and set them by the door, making sure not to step on the squeaky board in front of the stairs. I was hungry enough to eat my way out of a pit of bacon cheeseburgers, but even the lure of greasy meat wasn’t strong enough to risk clattering around in the kitchen for pans and waking up my mother.

“Nice of you to drop in.”

I froze with one foot on the stairs and bit back a groan. “Hey, I’m glad you’re up,” I said, turning to face her. It took me a second to find her because she was sitting on my father’s old, worn leather chair in the corner of the living room. In the dark. Like a crazy person. WTF was up with that?

Suddenly, I knew that this wasn’t even going to be your garden variety, you-can’t-be-out-gallivanting-at-all-hours-during-the-school-week kind of lecture. This was serious business.

The dread that seemed to be my newest BFF crawled up my spine to settle at the base of my neck. Had something happened to Gram? Before that fear could take root, common sense took over. Mom would have called me. Plus, now that I was paying attention, I could hear my grandmother’s snores echoing from her bedroom on the main floor. It used to be our dining room, but we’d converted it a couple years back when walking up the stairs had gotten too hard for her.

I gave one last longing look up said stairs, then backed off the step and crossed the hallway into the living room.

She still hadn’t said a word by the time I’d sat crisscross-applesauce on the couch across from her, and she was really starting to freak me out.

“Can I turn on the light or something?” I asked, unnerved by her intent stare. For someone who didn’t seem to feel all that chatty, she certainly was doing a lot of judging just with the eye contact alone. She might have missed her calling. She’d have been a top-notch interrogator for the FBI or something.

I shifted, tucking my still-numb-from-the-cold feet under my butt and waited. It had been a while, but this weird thing she was doing wasn’t exactly new. The last time we’d gone through this was when she’d told me about who and what I was. She’d had the same face on then. The “shit’s about to get real” face and that got me even more nervous.

“I need you to tell me what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.”

Soooo, no lights, I guess? I knew better than to say that out loud though.
All righty, discussion in the relative dark like some sort of mafia confessional it is!

I shrugged and wet my lips. It was bound to happen. I’d expected to get a little more time before I had to tell her at least part of it, but hey, the way I looked at it was, at least I wasn’t out doing drugs or something, right?

“I’ve been with Mac. We’re—”

“You’re what?” she asked in a furious whisper.

“Hanging out. That’s all.”

She expelled a breath. “Okay, so this isn’t something I need to be concerned about, then?”

I jerked back and shook my head furiously. “Oh no, definitely not. He’s not, like, my boyfriend.” Or really friend, even, if I was being honest. He’d made sure to tell me that more than once.

She ran a hand through her already mussed blond hair and nodded, as if to herself. “That’s good. I can live with that. Are you being careful?”

“Mom! We’re not having sex. I just told you, it’s not like that.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Maggie. I’m talking about…you.” Her tight, pursed lips and raised brows spoke a thousand words. Me. She was worried about me doing something bad to him. It was written all over her face.

My eyes stung, but I managed to keep it together. Stuff’s pretty crappy if your mom is afraid for you to go on a date in case you bring him back dead.

“I’m doing fine.” Now it was my turn to be cold. How could she think I would have spent any time with this guy, or any guy, if I had concerns over whether or not I would injure him? She’d seen what I’d gone through after everything with Eric and how I’d basically become a frigging nun since then. If that wasn’t enough to convince her, then I don’t know what would be.

“I know that you’d never hurt someone on purpose, but you have very little control and—”

“No thanks to you. It would have been nice to give me a little warning. Or how about some advice?” Now I was mad. Seething, and the vow I’d made to myself an hour ago in the closet with Mac sizzled to a crisp under the heat of my anger. She had a lot of nerve coming down on me when I’d asked her dozens—no, hundreds of times for advice and how to handle my ever-strengthening powers, and her answer had always been the same.
Fight it. Fight it and eventually it will go away.

No amount of begging had changed her mind, and while I definitely wanted to get a handle on my powers enough that they didn’t affect my every waking thought, I didn’t want them to go away. After saying it out loud to Mac earlier, I knew it with total clarity.

They were
mine
.

So I’d tamped them down, and I’d fought them like she said, but I also let them out sometimes because part of me knew they wasn’t supposed to be squashed all the time. Even just in my room by myself, I’d blast the crap out of stuff, melting old toys, sucking the energy from my little treasures, once that compulsion had started.

Okay, so maybe if I’d listened to her, the whole Eric incident wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe it would have gone a much different way. Supposing I’d been of age and had managed to bind my powers. To send them into a dormant stage like she and Gram had done with theirs. Eric was so much stronger than me, there would have been no fighting him off. Would he have finished the job he’d started?

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Maggie. You’re a child. I told you what I did to save you from this life. It’s not worth it; I can promise you that.” She stood and bent toward me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Now come into the kitchen. I’ll make you something to eat.”

I jerked my head away and glared at her. “You’ve reassured yourself that I’m following orders, so the discussion is over? Maybe you want to offer me some fucking strudel?” I demanded.

“Margaret!”

Screw that. This wasn’t going to be over until I said it was over. I was sick of being left in the dark. I flicked on the lamp next to me as a symbol of my defiance. Because I was definitely sticking to the second part of my vow. She might not tell me today, but I was going to ask. Over and over until she did.

“I want to know why.”

She looked paler in the harsh light, but I didn’t back down.

“Why won’t you talk to me? Help me learn how to control this thing?”

“Because it can’t be controlled. Not entirely. And I don’t want you to have to live with the consequences of what you are any more than you already have to.”

Her words were so quiet, I had to strain to hear the last.

“Mac isn’t human.” It wasn’t a statement. I’d tossed it out there between us like a challenge. The
so fuck you
on the end wasn’t spoken, but it was no less potent and obvious.

She flinched and fell back heavily into Dad’s seat.

“What is he, then?”

The tension in her voice was so taut I half expected her to burst into tears. The new rebel in me that had sent out the opening arrow retreated.

“A semi. I don’t know what exactly.”

She digested that and shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand. What god does he descend from?”

I watched her closely. “I don’t know.”

She didn’t react, but that didn’t mean anything. She was pretty used to people keeping secrets.

“Tell me what you do know.”

I shrugged. “The Council sent him to help me after what happened with Eric.” Not totally accurate, but if I told her the whole truth, I’d never leave the house again. “I don’t know a whole lot more than that yet. I thought you’d know.”

She shook her head slowly and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “The Council isn’t something to play with. I don’t know too much about them; I was never overly involved. Your grandmother shielded me from most of it, and then later… Well, let’s just say I’ve been out of that world for a very long time. For most semis it’s live and let live. We mind our own business, try to live normal lives. There are some families who get involved in the politics, but aside from an annual census check-in, we’re not required to stay in touch or to be involved in the community. After generations and semis choosing human mates, oftentimes the power fades, like it was never there to begin with.”

And that was what she’d hoped had happened with me. Only it hadn’t.

“I know I was a disappointment,” I said in a low voice. I grabbed her hand and then pulled it away when she didn’t grip mine back. “I wish I was different.”

She let out a short, guttural laugh. “It’s not you who was a disappointment, Maggie. I’m the one who let everyone down. You, your grandmother, your dad. I couldn’t play the hand I was dealt, and I screwed it all up.” She met my gaze and touched the tip of my nose with her index finger. “You look just like him. You always did, even as a baby, except for those big, clear green eyes blinking up at me. And I was so happy because I thought, ‘She doesn’t look a thing like me. Maybe she won’t be. Maybe she’ll be strong like her daddy. Human like her daddy.’”

I sat back, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. So I had let her down, despite what she said.

“And when you weren’t, it was a shock, but never was I for one second disappointed in you. I just didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know what to say or do to make you okay. This whole thing drove me crazy, you know. My mother told me when I was only ten, and I knew what was coming, did all the right things to prepare, but nothing could prepare me…”

She bit her lip and pushed forward, in spite of the tears shimmering in her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is that just because I wasn’t strong enough to handle it, I assumed you weren’t, either. And now that I realize you might be, I don’t have a clue how to help you. I wish I did. But it’s like all that stuff I learned was wiped from my memory. I think I blocked it out when I decided to cut off that part of myself, you know? I wish I could get it back for you, but it’s gone.”

“It’s okay, Mom. Mac is helping me—”

“Mac is a stranger.” She slammed her hand on the table and gasped when it connected with a
crack
. “I’m sorry. It’s just, the old ways are tricky, Mags. There are things that happen in the inner circles that I don’t have any knowledge of. And the one person who does in this house is barely coherent most days. What I do know is that whenever someone is brought in from the Council like that, it’s a concern. Gram always told me that the Amaranthus were a ruthless lot, and we dealt with them as little as possible. If Mac was sent by them, I’m concerned about his motives.”