Torn. Part 29

Everything like Luc, he meant. Amazing how that guy could ruin things without even being in the room. "You're saying no."

"It's too complicated. Everything about you is complicated. Your age and your uncle, you and Verity and Luc and the magic. I'm not sure there's a way to get clear of it all."

I would not cry. I would not cry. Instead, I bit my tongue so hard the blood tasted like pennies. "Way to take the easy way out, Colin. Those are lousy reasons."

He nodded tiredly. "Maybe. But take them away, and I'd still say no."

I wrenched away. "Wow. Thanks for letting me down gently."

He stepped toward me again, clamped his hands on my wrists, and held me in place. I stared at the granite beneath me, trying like crazy to be angry instead of humiliated. He leaned in, his voice rasping over my skin. "I told you. You are complicated. I don't like complicated, Mo. I don't like relationships. I like simple, and no strings attached, and you come with more strings than the G.o.dd.a.m.n symphony. And the h.e.l.l of it is, I'm okay with that."

"So, what is the problem?"

"Look at me."

It took forever. It felt like stars burned out and were born again before I could gather up the strength. When I finally managed to turn my head, his mouth was curving inches from mine, his eyes obsidian-dark, our breath mingling as he said, each word slow and distinct and like a promise, "I will not be your rebound."

I started to protest, but he cut me off. "You should get that better than anyone. Settle whatever is between you and Luc. Decide what you want, not just from me, but from your life. Once you do-and not until then-we can figure the rest out." He let go of my hands and stepped back. "Got it?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"We okay?"

I nodded again. Maybe if I acted like it was true, it would be. Eventually.

"Good. *Tell me to stop,'" he mimicked, and winced as he pulled his shirt back on. "Jesus. I knew you'd be a terror."

I waited until he'd crossed the room, giving me s.p.a.ce to collect my thoughts. "What now?"

"Now I take you home."

"No! Please, Colin. I can't, not after everything with Billy, and then Kowalski. . . . I can't pull off normal. Not tonight."

He sighed, looking at me expectantly.

I whooshed out a breath. "Can I stay here? Just for tonight? I'll sleep on the couch, you won't even notice me."

"Just for tonight," he said, smiling wryly. "And I'm taking the couch."

CHAPTER 27.

I lay alone in the middle of Colin's four-poster bed, aching from exhaustion and memory. Every time my eyes started to close, I pitched into the yawning pool of raw magic, saw Kowalski thrown into the air, the Darklings swarm over the Water Tower, and the terrible emptiness of Luc's face as we watched it all burn. As the dawn crept pink-edged across the high bedroom windows, I slipped back into the living room.

Colin was awake, staring at the fading orange embers in the woodstove, looking like his dreams had been equally unpleasant.

"I called Billy," he said, straightening. "Your mom's freaking out, but he's handling her."

"What did you tell him?"

He looked slightly ashamed. "I said you were pulling rebellious teenage bulls.h.i.t and it was better to let it run its course."

I started to protest and he shrugged. "We can't tell him the truth. He doesn't like this, but he gets it. He'll smooth things over with your mom. It's the best we can do for now."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"C'mere," he said. I curled up next to him on the couch, drifting off to the sensation of his hand running over my hair.

It was full daylight when I woke again, Colin's arm still snug around me. I sat up and he jerked awake, one hand closing over my wrist as he scanned the room.

"I've got to get to school," I said, trying to sound as if everything was normal.

He studied me. "You feel up for it?"

Not at all. "What else am I going to do?"

"You need to run home first? Get your stuff?"

"Um . . . sure." The silence grew oppressive, until finally he b.u.mped his shoulder against mine.

"We okay?"

"Sure." Like I'd said, what else was I going to do?

We didn't say anything, the awkward quiet lasting all the way to my house, where I changed into a fresh uniform and gathered my books. Periodically, one of us would start to talk, then lapse back into silence. There was no safe conversational ground, and neither of us had the energy to discuss all the stuff we really needed to.

A block away from school, Colin finally spoke. "You're not going to vanish on me, are you?" he asked. "Get all weirded out and bolt?"

"No vanishing," I said.

He parked the truck and came around to open my door. "Thanks," I said as he helped me down.

"Mo." I tried to pull away, not wanting to hear his reasons or his regrets, but he wouldn't let go of me. "We'll figure this out. I promise."

If I opened my mouth, something stupid would tumble out, so I said nothing. He brushed a kiss over my forehead, so light I feared it was a dream.

I stepped back, and he gave me a rueful smile. "That didn't happen. Get to cla.s.s."

Hitching up my bag, I started inside, trying to sort out the emotions tumbling through me. Grief and guilt for Kowalski's death and my failure to hold the lines. Rage at Evangeline, for betraying all of us. I'd never gotten the justice I'd sworn for Verity, and that burned, deep in the pit of my stomach. A gaping hurt over Luc, but I pushed that away. I touched my fingers to my lips just as the invisible line beneath my skin flared.

I stumbled, but managed to catch myself on the iron handrail.

Twenty feet away, leaning against one of the front doors, was Luc.

It took every last shred of pride I had not to cut and run-back to Colin, or into school, or to the ends of the earth. The temptation was dizzying. Instead, I squared my shoulders and continued up the wide stone steps past him.

"That was cozy," he said, his voice like a lash. "Didn't take you hardly any time at all to find a replacement, hmn?"

I flinched. "Go away, Luc. We're done."

He tapped my forearm. "This says otherwise."

I s.n.a.t.c.hed my wrist away like it burned, and he rubbed the spot on his own arm where the chain had bound us.

"The Torrent's started," he said. "It's slow, just pockets so far, here and there, but it's picking up speed."

He looked as haunted as he had the first night, in the hospital, when he'd taken me to find Verity. I understood now-failing to stop the Torrent meant more than one friend's death for him. It meant his entire world, smashed beyond recognition, the whole purpose of his life come to nothing. He would probably survive, but I wasn't sure he'd actually live.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could offer him, and not nearly enough. "For all of it. But I can't help you."

"You're still the Vessel," he said. "Like it or not, you're the chosen one now. We could try . . ."

"I can't keep trying to be her," I said. "It will kill me, Luc, as sure as the magic would."

He started to speak, but Lena raced up to us, halting inches away. She gave him a frankly appreciative nod. "Hey! It's the secret guy! All becomes clear."

"He's not-"

"Whatever. Can I talk to you?"

It was easier to let Lena pull me away than say good-bye, and when I looked back, Luc was gone.

"What?" I asked as she sped down the hallway like an F5 tornado. "Lena, chill out!"

"Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what you're missing?"

"Not really."

"It's your destiny, Mo. Ready and waiting to meet you."

"What?" I dropped my bag, and she handed it back to me, then resumed towing me down the hallway.

"h.e.l.lo? The NYU rep? She's just walked in, and you, once again, are nowhere to be found. The guy is hot, but get with the program." She scowled, and her meaning finally penetrated my brain.

"It's Visitation Day."

"What is with you?" she whispered fiercely. "I'm outside the counseling office, and Jill McAllister strolls in, all ready to chit-chat with the rep. She is in there making an impression, Mo, and you look like someone who can't be bothered! She is stealing your spot!"

"How do I look?" We stopped around the corner from the counseling office. I brushed ineffectually at my hair and wished I was wearing nice shoes instead of my usual ratty Birks.

Lena pursed her lips. "Honestly? Drop in a real casual line about how you've been up late working on the paper. You'll still look like c.r.a.p, but it'll be for a good cause."

"How does Jill look?"

"Like a recruiting poster."

"Oh, excellent." I took a deep breath. In the last twenty-four hours, I'd faced down the Mob and Darklings. I'd plunged my hands into magic and lived. I'd thrown myself at Colin and survived that, too. I'd walked away from Luc and the Torrent. Surely, I could handle a college admissions officer.

Sister Donna handed out delicate bone china cups filled with steaming Earl Grey. Jill was already perched on a chair, looking as perky and wholesome as Lena had predicted, glowing with good health and a strong work ethic and valuable societal contributions, while I looked like a cross between Morticia Addams and Lucille Ball, only less with-it.

"Tell me about your summer, Mo," the NYU rep said.

Sister Donna bobbled the teapot and Jill smiled behind her cup.

"We've all had a difficult few months," Sister Donna cut in. "We lost a member of our St. Brigid's family, a dear friend of Mo's . . ."

Too worn-out to talk around it, I said, "She was murdered."

The rep's hand fluttered helplessly. "I'm so sorry! What a terrible loss."

Jill shook her head, the picture of composed grief. "Verity was a wonderful person. We've all struggled with this tragedy, but I think we've found her to be an inspiration, too. Losing her taught us not to take a single day for granted, to rise above petty concerns and strive to reach our potential. Don't you agree, Mo?"

Such a shame there were no magical ruptures under Jill to swallow her up. Painfully. "Absolutely," I mumbled, and took another sip of tea.

The rep, to her credit, tried again. "As you both know, applying early decision indicates NYU is your top choice. What is it that appeals to you about our inst.i.tution?"

Jill jumped right in. "Well, your reputation for academic excellence, of course, and your commitment to diversity is very appealing. Having grown up in an urban area, that's so important to me. I also believe that you offer a great balance between the resources a large school can offer and the close, personal experience of small cla.s.s sizes."

Did she have a brochure hidden in her sleeve? Had she gotten the list of questions beforehand? There was no way for me to compete with Jill and her complete co-ed package. What could I say? I wanted to go as far away from my family as possible? And when I got there, I wanted to be able to disappear?

"Gosh, Jill," I said, injecting my voice with as much fake cheer as I could, "you've hit the nail right on the head. Quality education, great setting . . . who could ask for anything more?"

"Jill mentioned she plans to study medicine. I understand you're interested in the sciences as well, Mo?"

At last, a question I could answer, land mine free. "Biochemistry, probably. I enjoy lab work, and I know you just opened a new facility. It would be a real privilege to study there," I said, trying to sound like the lab equivalent of La.s.sie-dependable, hard-working, capable of retrieving any graduate students that might have tumbled down the well.

"Well, we appreciate your enthusiasm. Do you come from a family of scientists?"

"No, I'd be the first." I hoped she didn't notice my gritted teeth or Jill's smirk.

"I've always found the nature or nurture discussion to be fascinating," she said. "Where do you two girls come down on that debate? Is there something you inherited from your family that really . . . you know . . . makes you who you are?"

Sister Donna looked slightly green.

"Oh, you take this one, Mo," said Jill. "I don't want to hog the conversation."

"Wow, Jill. Thanks. You're so thoughtful." I set my teacup down. "I've inherited lots of things from my family. I look like my dad, I'm shy like my mom. Some of that stuff is genetic, some is environmental." And some things defied explanation-like why Verity had been chosen as the Vessel, or how she'd managed to pa.s.s it along to me.

"In the end, though, it doesn't really matter. I think the key is to accept who you are, however you got that way. To embrace it, without reservations or hesitations. Because once you own who you are, it's not a limitation anymore. It's a source of strength."

Hearing my own words delivered in an admissions essay tone made me understand them better. Fighting against my family and the Torrent was only making it worse. If I could just accept my role-in my family and in the prophecy-maybe the chaos would pa.s.s through, and I could finally have the chance to make a life I was happy with.