Tangled Thoughts (17 page)

“I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“I know,” she said, with this measure of defeat in her voice.

“Hey.” She shivered and I hugged her close to me. We
had
to get a taxi soon. At this rate, by the time we got there, Lex would have frostbite and I'd really have fucked something up. “I don't know what I did here, I'm sorry. Could you maybe tell me? So if I do it again at least it will be on purpose?”

A bubble of laughter floated up from the folds of my ridiculous silk shirt, so I knew I hadn't dug my hole any deeper. Yet. “It's just—arrrgh!” She thumped her head against my chest. “Okay, listen, because this is the kind of girly breakdown shit I just don't
do
so I'm going to say it one time and then we'll forget about it. Right?”

“Right.” I held very still. Alexis
admitting
to doubt was rare, like unicorn blood, but chinks in her armor were
good
for her. They let out some of the things she'd been burying since she was fifteen. The imperfections made her more
her
, the girl I'd always liked underneath, even during the years when I hadn't much liked the rest of her.

“Here's the thing—you're joking about kids and the future, and it's just, well, am
I
the future? I know that's, like, far away, but I…I don't want to be a joke. Okay? God, I need a drink now. Let's go.” She tried to twist out of my grip, but I tugged her back.

“No. Wait.” I couldn't go on without saying
something
. “You're not a joke or a, a fling. I swear you're not. I
was
joking, but
not
about you. I'm sorry. I—”
haven't thought about this before
I started to say. But I had.

I had imagined a whole future, could see it so clearly I'd thought it was guaranteed. I saw my apartment filled with antiques and dark haired children with green-blue eyes running around the store like I had as a kid. But it turned out to be just
my
imagination. I hadn't thought beyond
now
in any real way since.

Finally, I said, “I'm just figuring things out as we go. And I thought we were going good?”

She smiled. Tentatively at first, but it spread into a champion of a grin. “Yeah,” she said. “We are.”

“You say that like it surprises you,” I joked, and gave a little tug on her cleavage scarf.

She bumped me with her hip. “It does.”

“I know,” I said. Because it surprised me too, in a good way.

“I'm not even sure why I bother. You're too serious and work too much and are too prone to brooding—”

“But I look good.”

“Don't interrupt!
But
, I was going to say, you look, like,
scandalously
good in those pants.”

“Arrrr. And what lassie can resist a brooding, tight-panted rogue?” I poked her with my sword again, which was proving to be the most fun part of the costume.

“Get your cutlass away from my ass before I reconsider!”

“Seriously though, I'm working on those first things.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I'm wearing this.”

“Admit you love it.”

I kind of did. Pretending to be someone else had its advantages. I hadn't done a proper Halloween since I
was
a kid. Last year I'd ducked out of candy duty at the store long enough to see Lainey in her evil witch costume, and that was as close as I'd come in years. Funny though, I hadn't thought of that until just now, and the memory
didn't
make my chest constrict.

I took a deep breath and felt…okay. Good, even.

“Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“
Now
what are you brooding about?”

“You,” I said, and for the first time, it was mostly true.

“W
HERE
ARE
WE
going again?” I became concerned when the taxi we finally caught stopped on a street in Arlington where Important People lived. An enormous Tudor mansion loomed in front of us, decked in artfully lit cobwebs and flickering pumpkins that were probably professionally carved. Raven figurines with glowing eyes watched our approach from perches all over the trees. “The
Rogues and Ravens
are
here
?”

Lex glanced sideways at me. “Do you seriously listen to
none
of the talk at the office? This is Janelle Roberts's party. Everyone wanted an invite. Remember?”

Fuck. Janelle's father was the senior senator from Virginia. Every congressional relative and big money donor's kid between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five would be here, along with their retinues and hangers-on. I
hated
these parties. I resigned myself as the door man guarding Halloween Wonderland carefully checked his guest list before waving us inside. Almost as soon as we walked through the door, Lex was dragged off by a squealing gaggle of girls dressed in costumes as
small or smaller than hers. She disappeared into the artificial fog with a final glimpse of her dark, swinging hair.

The image danced behind my eyelids, and I couldn't help thinking of
another
girl's raven black hair. For one fleeting second I allowed myself to wonder what Lainey was doing. She'd never choose a costume as overtly sexy as Lex's. Would she? And if she did, was someone else there to appreciate it?

I shook my head, unsure how I wanted that question answered. I slipped my jacket back on and ran my fingers over the interior pocket, ensuring my wallet—and the note—were still there. With a promise that I wouldn't touch it again tonight, I plunged into the party. Finding Lex was a half macabre, half sexy game of hide-and-seek. Ghouls, fools, and sexy-somethings popped up in surprise singles and packs all over the fog-filled mansion.

“Misch!” I heard her voice, high and excited. A white flash shot into my line of vision, not toward me, but to hug a pretty boy “mechanic” whose hands had obviously never wielded a wrench but did land far too low on Alexis's back when he kissed her cheek. I didn't like that at all.

Who knew I was the jealous type? I'd felt the same way…months ago, right after I'd gotten here. At the time I'd thought it was because I wasn't used to Lex flirting with someone else. But now here was the feeling again. I
really
didn't like how his hand was still resting on her hip.

“Hey,” I said, inclining my chin as he met my eyes over her shoulder. I looked at his hand and looked back at him.

“Babe!” Lex squealed. She turned around to hug me, and I left my arm around her shoulders. She was wobbly like she'd had too much punch already and talking louder than usual. “
There
you are. This is the best party of the year! Have you met Mischa? Wait, of
course
you have. He played soccer at Andover.”

On closer inspection, I realized I had. It had been years, and he was older and taller now. His simpering smile was still the same though. “Yeah. Hey,” I repeated.

“Boo,” came a small voice behind me. It was comic how such a soft noise had all three of us turning around together. Standing there was a ghost. A little blonde wisp of a thing in an ethereal white dress with white-painted face, black-lined eyes, and red lips.

It was Jillian.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, but she was still there, smiling a bloody smile.

Jillian. Here. In front of me.

As if Lex mentioning her earlier had conjured her, in real life.

Lex stared at her for a few seconds with her best bitchy eyes, until finally they widened in recognition. “Holy shit!” She looked her up and down. “Where the hell have you been hiding? I thought maybe you
were
dead.”

“France,” Jill said, though I knew where she'd been. Hidden away, first at a psyche ward, then boarding school.

“
Mais oui
?” Lex replied, eyebrows raised.

“Father thought it was best I go somewhere nicer. For my recovery, you know.” Casually, she added, “
Aussi, les étudiants sont beaucoup plus sophistiquée que dans les États-Unis
.”

Lex's bitch eyes reappeared even narrower than before, so I could tell whatever Jill had said, she didn't like it. “
Alors, je suppose que vous n'avez rien appris
,” she said, and made a cursory glance around. “Oh, Mischa, look! There's—” She gestured vaguely toward the crowd. “Let's go get a drink.” And she marched away, dragging her confused but happy acquaintance along behind her.

I still had not moved.

“Carter?” Jill said. “How are you?”

Paralyzed. That's how I was. Except for the skyrocketing rate of my heartbeats. Blood thundered in my ears and pushed at my temples. Somehow over the noise of it, I heard myself say, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? Janelle invited me.” She stared up at me with those big blue eyes, wide and innocent-looking as ever. Like she wasn't an attempted murderer and I didn't know it. I gripped my stupid sword tightly with both hands, to keep from doing I didn't know what. Something I'd regret. I let go only long enough to run my hand over my hair because I just couldn't stop myself. I did it a couple times and felt better.

“No.” I shook my head, more times than necessary. “I mean, what are you doing here.” I spread my arms and hoped they encompassed what I meant—here, in this house, in this city, in this
country
.

She shifted on her feet, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her whitened ear. It was the first time she looked like the Jillian I remembered. “Father wanted me to come home. To tell me the good news. And for the announcement.” She looked back up at me, meeting my eyes in a way that wasn't like the old Jillian at all.

I nodded. Of course. I should have known. Since Jill almost died and her father began running for president, Jill's mother had made a complete about-face in her dealings with Uncle Dan. Some combination of guilt and Sententia solidarity. Everyone needed to support his candidacy, her most of all. Of course Jill would be here.

But someone should have warned me.

“I asked Father not to tell you,” Jill said, reading my mind. “I…I've missed you. I wanted to surprise you.”

A harsh laugh I barely recognized escaped my throat. “Congratulations,” I said. “I'm surprised.”

I meant to go then, but her small hand on my arm stopped me. “Please,” she said. “Please don't walk away. L-let me say some things.”

“Why?” My anger boiled over then. I used to love Jill, legitimately love her.
Seeing
her still triggered those feelings, conflicting with a nearly all-consuming rage I could barely suppress. I'd loved her, and protected her, and she'd tried to take
everything
from me. “Tell me
why
I should do that?”

Simply she said, “Because you can't make a scene.”

Fuck
. And this was why she'd wanted to surprise me. Here. Harlan Waites's words came back to me:
You have many skills, but politicking isn't one of them
. Maybe it really was in the blood. Even Jill was a million times better at it than I was.

I took a deep breath and another, running my hand over my head. “You have five minutes.”

I
FOLLOWED
HER
down hallways, past the bustling kitchen, to a quiet room, a study not decked out for the party. When she tried to shut the door, I stopped her. “No. Leave it open.”

“But—”

“I don't care if it's not discreet. Leave it open.”

She nodded. I followed her again to a set of chairs by the window. It was dark outside, so instead I saw the two of us reflected in the glass. I didn't like my expression. I knew I had a temper, but I'd never considered myself
violent
. But I'd never been so betrayed by someone either. Looking at Jill, I was afraid. That
I
would do something terrible and, worse, not regret it.

We looked at each other for a while, ticking away another minute. We'd passed the five I'd given her already, and sitting there was torture, which was why I wouldn't move. I wanted to hear whatever Jill was going to say, knowing it would hurt. It had been a year and a half since I'd seen her. She'd changed. I could tell, even with the makeup. She was small as ever, but older. She was prettier, actually. She sat up straighter.

“You look good,” she said finally. When I didn't respond, she took a breath and kept going. “I think you're even taller. I-I've missed you.”

I laughed, a coughed out sound that was bitter and touched with menace. I felt blood in my cheeks, angry splotches I couldn't control. Missed me? As if she had the right. “The feeling is not mutual.”

She sighed. “Isn't it? You don't miss me at all?”

“No.”

“But I
know
you. How many people can say that? Can your new girlfriend?”

“
No
!” I blurted out, meaning
stop
, but giving away the truth anyway. Though I'd come close to exposing them, Lex still didn't know my secrets. “We're not talking about her.
Don't
talk about her. Say what you wanted to say, or I'm leaving.”

Softly, she told me, “I'm sorry. I know—what I did, I know it was wrong. I'm sorry.”

“You tried to kill someone. It takes more than sorry to make up for it.”

“I know,” she squeaked out. She looked up at me from where her hands gripped each other. Her knuckles were so white, they looked painted, like her face. “I'm trying. My doctors—they're helping. I swear. I needed help. I'm sorry.”

I nodded, unsure what to say. She did need help. In most ways she hadn't been punished enough, but in others…Jill may have been resuscitated after Lainey was forced to use her Hangman gift to save herself, but not all of her came back. Though sometimes I fantasized about it, I couldn't imagine losing my Sententia gifts, like she had. It would be like ripping away vital pieces of myself, an arm or half my soul. Who was I without them? They were part of what defined me, and all Sententia. Curiosity got the better of me.