Inquest (22 page)

“Thanks.”

He almost
leaves before reconsidering. “What about the Guardians? I don’t
want to leave you alone. Maybe you should just come with me.”

I shake my
head. We parked at the back of the parking lot. I’d rather take my
chances with the Guardians after the night I’ve had than risk
turning into an icicle. Trashing a few Guardians could be exactly
what I need right now. “No witnesses can be a good thing, Milo. No
one will know what happened to them if they just disappear.”

A grin that’s
almost scary lights Milo’s features. We’ve been training a lot.
After the Guardian at the mall, I made sure I knew how to get rid
of a body should I ever need to go that far. Threats won’t work on
everyone.

“I’ll be right
back. Two minutes tops,” Milo says.

He dashes out
into the storm and disappears behind a wall of snow. Normally I
would be captivated by the treat of a real snowstorm, but not
tonight.

A noise from
behind makes spins me around. I’m shocked to find Lance emerging
from a dark hall. He stops several feet away and watches me. I knew
coming here tonight was a bad idea. I don’t think I’m up for
another confusing confrontation with him right now.

“What do you
want?” I ask. If he’s going to try to kill me again, it isn’t going
to end well for him. I could never actually kill Lance, but I’d
definitely make him sorry for the attempt. I search his emotions
and thoughts, relived when I find no malice, but I’m still not
thrilled to see him again.

“Why are you
hanging out with Milo?”

The question
surprises me. I was expecting something harsher. Another wave of
confusion threatens to give me a migraine. “That’s none of your
business,” I say. “What I do is none of your concern anymore, so
leave me alone.”

Lance’s jaw
tightens visibly. “There’s something not right about him, Libby.
You should get away from him before he hurts you.”

“Oh, now
you’re warning me? That’s just great, Lance. You’re the last person
in the world who should be giving me advice about friends right
now, since you turned all of mine against me and you’re obviously
too afraid of what yours think to say what’s really on your mind.
Is that what you and Angus were arguing about? What you were really
going to say to me? Or were you just yelling like lunatics about my
social life” I ask sarcastically. “I’d think you had better things
to do.”

“I don’t give
a damn about what Angus thinks, not anymore, but I’m serious about
Milo.”

“What do you
mean, not anymore?” I ask, honestly curious. Did that fight change
something?

Hanging his
head, Lance leans against the wall. “If you could name my worst
quality, what would it be?”

“You care too
much about what other people think of you,” I say without having to
think too hard. Since we were kids his pride has always been his
biggest fault. It’s gotten him into more fights than I can
remember, and made him make a stupid choice more than once.

“You’ve told
me that before, but I never agreed with you until tonight.”

“What is that
supposed to mean?”

Shaking his
head, Lance says, “It doesn’t matter. You won’t believe me
anyway.”

“You won’t
even give me the chance?” Can’t he see that I want to believe he
hasn’t become this horrible monster I’m forced to hate? I want him
to tell me this has all been a big misunderstanding.

“It’s
obviously too late,” Lance says, gesturing at my hair. The sight of
my curls sets him on edge again. “Hate me if you have too, Libby,
but you have to listen to me about Milo. You shouldn’t be hanging
around with him. He’s dangerous.”

“What are you
talking about?”

Lance opens
his mouth but closes it again right away. His internal struggle
rages through his features, but finally he says, “I can’t explain
it, Libby, but something about him isn’t right. You have to trust
me on this.”

Trust him?
Maybe if he trusted me enough to explain I could.

I yank the
door open regardless of the snow. The cold scours me, focuses me
enough to think before I do something stupid like giving in to the
desperation pouring off him. Before stepping out into the storm, I
look over my shoulder, and say, “Your word about Milo being
dangerous would have been enough once, but not anymore. Not if you
aren’t willing to trust me back.”

Lance’s frown
tightens, but he doesn’t argue with me.

“Besides,” I
say, “he can’t be any more dangerous of a friend than you turned
out to be.”

Chapter 18

Irrational

I don’t
realize I’ve fallen asleep until Milo wakes me with a gentle
whisper. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, we’re home.”

I yawn and
open my eyes. “You say that like you live here, too.”
We’re
home
. He has yet to talk me into letting him stay over. I have
no doubts that he’s thinking of my safety—well, almost no
doubts—but I also know that I would have a very hard time asking
him to sleep on the floor. I have a hard enough time watching him
leave every night. Tonight will be even worse. Having Celia with us
this past week has made it a little easier. Milo’s parents may
forget he exists, but Celia has a ten o’clock curfew.

Milo shrugs, a
hint of a smile ruining his nonchalance. “I practically do. The
only time I see my own house is to sleep.”

“And that’s
how it’s going to stay, right?” I say.

He just smiles
and gets out of the car. I wait patiently for him to open my door
and take his hand. We walk to the door together. Milo already has
his keys in hand and opens the door. I honestly didn’t even reach
for my own keys. He doesn’t live here, my foot. It’s more like this
is his home and his real house is the hotel he stops in at every
night for the fun of it. This is hardly lost on Milo. His chuckle
says, “I told you so,” just as much as words could.

I brush past
him with my nose in the air just for spite. I’m to the bed before I
realize Milo isn’t following me. Turning back to the door, his dark
shape is outlined in silver by the light of the street lamps
outside. For a moment his appearance seems sinister, and Lance’s
warning comes back to mind.

“Milo, what’s
wrong?” I ask as I approach him.

Up close to
him, the fear I felt a second ago disappears. His face is serious,
but not anxious. Whatever his worry is, it’s not for my safety.
“It’s late,” he says finally. “I should go.”

After his
teasing I find this oddly funny, not to mention the fact that we
never got to finish our conversation at the dance. “But I thought
you practically lived here?”

He doesn’t
appreciate the joke. “It’s late, Libby. I should get home before my
parents start wondering where I am.”

“Did you tell
your parents where you were going tonight?” I ask, wondering why
his parents would care where he is tonight more than any other
night.

“They asked
when they saw me dressed up, so I told them I was going to the
dance.”

“But not who
you were going with,” I say. I don’t know why I should expect
anything else, but it’s another reminder that normal will just
never apply to me.

Milo pulls me
into his arms. “No. I’m sorry, Libby. I hope you know I would
introduce you to them if I could, but it would only put you in more
danger. It’s too bad, too, because I think they would really like
you if you weren’t Cassia.”

“It’s okay,” I
say, “I understand.”

For several
moments neither of us says anything. Maybe it’s foolish to think
having Milo and Celia in my life are enough. I wouldn’t know what
to do without either of them, but it would be lying to say I didn’t
miss having parents, or talking to other people, or being able to
meet my best friend’s family. Villains are always lonely, though,
aren’t they? But I don’t feel like a villain. I don’t want to be
one, either. I don’t even want to be a hero. Living a normal life
where people aren’t afraid to look at me is all I’m really asking
for. And if I only get two more years to live, is it really that
much to ask? I bury my head against Milo’s chest and will my
melancholy to stay away.

“I really
should go,” Milo says.

“I don’t want
you to leave yet,” I whisper. Running into Lance twice and knowing
he fought with one of his best friends because of me, not to
mention getting Lance’s strange warning, has left me feeling a
little hollow. I don’t want to be alone right now. I pull more
tightly against Milo. Something changes in his stance. His arms
wrap around me more hungrily than usual. My mind wanders back to
our unfinished conversation on the dance floor. He said he didn’t
want me getting back together with Lance and that he was
hoping…something. I never got to hear what he was hoping would
follow me staying away from Lance.

“I don’t want
to go either,” he says, stroking my hair slowly, “but I don’t think
I should stay.”

“Will your
parents really worry about where you are?” I ask.

His breathing
stops for a brief second. “No, probably not.”

“Then
stay.”

“Stay?” he
questions. I can hear the question of how long in that one word. He
holds his emotions hostage, but there is a tenor to his voice I’ve
never heard before.

“I’m not
asking you to spend the night, Milo. I’m just asking you to stay
with me a little longer. I just don’t want to be alone yet.” Every
time I close my eyes I see Lance’s face, his eyes begging me to
listen to him, to forgive him. Thinking of him makes me want to
cry.

“Running into
Lance really got to you, didn’t it?” He sounds surprised.

I nod, feeling
childish for being affected so much by Lance, but he was my best
friend since we were babies. It hurts to have a person like that
turn on me. And it’s only made worse by believing Lance is still
looking out for me but refuses to admit it. He looked so betrayed
when he saw my curls, which means he still cares, doesn’t it? His
question about my curls isn’t the only thing still bothering me. I
decide to take a risk. “When you went to get the car, Lance found
me again.”

“What?” His
voice attempts to keep its dull glean, but angry tension makes it
hum. “What did he want?”

“He told me I
should stay away from you. He thought you were…dangerous, and he
wanted me to stop hanging around with you,” I say, my voice getting
quieter as I go.

Milo’s body
goes rigid. “Are you freaking kidding me? That prick has the balls
to say anything about
me
being dangerous! He’s the one who
tried to kill you! Did you actually take him seriously?” he
demands.

“No,” I say
quickly. “I mean, I think he’s wrong, obviously, or I wouldn’t be
asking you to stay with me, but the way he said it…I think he was
really worried. He believed what he was telling me.”

“What does it
matter what Lance believes?” Milo demands. “You know he’s wrong,
right? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know you’re
not.”

“Then why are
you telling me this? Do you want me to go after him and tell him to
leave you alone? Because I will if I have to.” His eyes glance at
the door, and I start to worry that he means it.

I grab his arm
and tug on him until he’s facing me. “Milo, I know you would never
hurt me, I was just wondering why Lance would say something like
that. I mean, I know you have things you haven’t told me, and I
won’t ask you to, but what would make Lance think you were
dangerous?”

“You think I
gave him some reason to be afraid of me? I haven’t done anything to
him, Libby. Nothing. I’ve wanted to punch him in the face about a
dozen times, but I haven’t. I have no idea what would make him say
that about me,” Milo says.

“Nothing?”

Milo’s face
darkens. “You do believe him, don’t you?”

“No,
Milo.”

“Then why are
we still talking about this?”

My frustration
over my confusion with Lance, this crappy night, everything that
has gone wrong lately boils over. I don’t think before I speak.
“Because Lance has always been there to protect me! My entire life.
I know what he did to me, but I believed him when he said he was
afraid for me. I just want to know why he would say something like
that!”

Stunned by my
outburst, Milo doesn’t answer right away. His stony silence scares
me. Is there really a reason behind Lance’s fear? Is there
something I’ve missed this entire time? When Milo takes a deep
breath before speaking, I hold my own breath as I wait for his
answer.

“He wants you
to doubt me,” Milo says angrily. “He’s just trying to hurt you
again by making you drive away the only person who cares about you.
He wants to drive you away from me, and I won’t let him,
Libby.”

The only
person who cares about me? My mind switches tracks completely,
putting Lance and his warning aside for now. Does Milo really mean
that? It’s kind of sad to think there is only one human being in
this world who doesn’t hate me, but I do like the idea that Milo
truly cares about me. He won’t let Lance drive me away from him
either? I’m not convinced that’s what Lance is trying to do, but
the implications of Milo words sink deep into my heart.

He wants me,
for himself apparently. An irrational brand of happiness starts
building in my heart. I’m so distracted by it I don’t realize Milo
is putting his jacket back on. He’s leaving, possibly going to find
Lance. Or maybe he’s angry at me for doubting him. Either way, I
don’t want him to leave. I panic and blurt out the first thing I
can think of to make him stay.

“Do you want
to know why I wouldn’t curl my hair before tonight?”

Milo’s hand
freezes on the door knob he just grabbed. “What does that have to
do with Lance?”

“Nothing.
Look, what Lance said scared me, Milo, but if you say there isn’t
any reason for him to think you’re dangerous, I believe you.” I
watch as Milo’s shoulders relax fractionally. “I don’t want to talk
about Lance anymore, okay? Forget about what he said, and I will
too.” At least I’ll try to.