Bound (10 page)

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Authors: Erica O'Rourke

BOOK: Bound
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C
HAPTER
12
M
y mom woke me the next morning. For a brief paralyzing moment, I was afraid she’d spotted Luc. But she looked impatient, not incensed. Luc was gone.
“Your father and I are going to the early service,” she said. “You’ll have Mass at school, right?”
“Ugh. Yes.” Ash Wednesday. Start of Lent. It would be nice to give up mornings. I dragged the covers back over my head, but she yanked them away.
“You need to get up. Colin will be here soon.”
I stumbled out of bed, took the hottest shower I could stand, and finally made my way to the kitchen. I should have been stiff from the fight, but Luc had evidently healed that, too.
My mom was wrong. Colin was already leaning against the counter, eyeing the plate of egg and cheese biscuits on the table, a mug of coffee in hand.
“She left them for you,” I said. “Go ahead.”
He handed me the mug and kissed me at the same time, tasting of toothpaste and coffee and concern.
“Did you sleep at all?”
“A little. Luc stood guard.” I waited for a reaction, but all he did was pause midbite and nod in grudging approval.
“Smart. Where is he now?”
“Probably dealing with the Quartoren.” I tested our connection, reassured by its presence. The wards from last night were still in place, and more had been added. The Quartoren had been busy.
“We need to figure out what to do with Billy.”
“You think he’ll try to use this against Ekomov?” I already knew the answer. I was hoping, for once, to be wrong.
“It would be his style. He’s already tried to use you once.”
I looked down, hoping my face didn’t give me away. Colin grudgingly accepted the fact I needed Luc’s protection when I dealt with the Arcs. I didn’t want him to know it was Luc who’d rescued me from my Mob problems as well.
“You know I’m right,” he said.
“And I know your next sentence is going to be about how I should leave town. Save your breath.” I slammed the mug down. “I have school.”
He caught my hand. “Hey. I’m not the bad guy, Mo.”
“I know. The problem is, you’re too damn good.” I leaned against his chest, listened to his heart beating true and steady, and tried to tell myself we could find a way out.
 
Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent—and the next day kicked off the Lenten Service Project. We sat through another all-school Mass, and spent the second half of the day on a field trip to our volunteer sites. We were broken up into teams, loaded onto buses, and sent off with the standard reminder that we were ambassadors for our school and our faith, so we’d better behave or face the wrath of Sister Donna.
Lena’s prediction came true, unfortunately. Jill McAllister was in our group, and so was Constance. And our chaperone was none other than Niobe, bearing a clipboard and a scowl. Our site was a Catholic church a few neighborhoods east of the school. Dutifully, we tromped from the bus to the basement where the kitchen and dining room were located. Niobe began handing out assignments, and I caught my first break in a long time. Lena and I would be dishing out food in the dining room, while Constance was assigned to the kitchen, mixing up gravy and instant mashed potatoes. Jill pulled dishwashing duty.
“I don’t see why I have to be stuck in the back,” she sniped. “I am a people person. There are other people here with experience in menial labor. Why not let them make the most of their skills? I could do a lot more good fund-raising, especially with my father’s connections.”
“It’s good to broaden your horizons,” said Niobe, and walked away without further comment.
Jill reapplied her lip gloss, ignoring the stack of dishes in the sink. “Speaking of horizons, Mo, have you heard from NYU yet?”
“Soon.”
She nodded in mock sympathy. “The waiting must be really hard. God, I’m glad I went with early decision. I can’t imagine how stressed you must be, especially since you blew the interview.”
“I’m managing,” I said, resisting the urge to dump a pan of gravy on her head.
“Come on,” Lena said, tugging at my arm. “They’re waiting for us.”
I lugged the gravy into the dining room, where the day’s meal was set up on a long table, cafeteria style.
“Would have been a waste of food,” Lena said, tapping the gravy pan with a ladle.
“But satisfying.”
“This is true. I think half the reason I want you to get into NYU is to piss off Jill.” We began dishing out mashed potatoes and slices of turkey.
“Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up.”
She looked at me sharply. “You really think you’ll have to stay here?”
“A lot of things have to go right for me to get in. I’m not sure I’m that lucky.”
“But if they did. If you managed it. You’d go, right?”
I shrugged, watching Niobe circulate around the room, greeting everyone—homeless person, student, shelter manager—with the same unsmiling look.
“Ugh.” Lena plopped another spoonful of potatoes onto a plate and gestured toward Niobe. “Why couldn’t we have had Ms. Corelli?”
“Because the universe isn’t that kind.” I leaned over, setting a slice of turkey on a little girl’s plate. Enormous eyes in a too-thin face tracked my movements. “Here you go, sweetie. Do you like potatoes?”
The girl’s mother tried to smile, but her eyes darted around the room, her shoulders hunched defensively. Lena took the girl’s plate. “Here ... I made a mountain with a hole in the middle. You can put the gravy in and pretend like it’s a volcano. A potato volcano,” she said, her voice unexpectedly gentle.
The girl gripped the plate of food and followed her mother down the line. Lena was silent, watching their progress.
“So sad,” I murmured.
She nodded, and turned her attention back to the line, greeting the people who shuffled past. “Is Colin chaperoning, too?”
“He’s outside, I’m sure. But he won’t come in unless something looks off or I text him.”
“Your dad has to be freaking out about you two.”
“Not freaking out, exactly. But he’s not happy about it, and he tells me so all the time.”
“Has it been weird since he got home?”
“My mom’s a lot happier, so that’s nice. It’s just ... he’s always around, trying to be a part of things. My mom’s overprotective, but she gives me my space, too. He’s not so interested in that.” I sighed, dished out more food. “I think he’s back to working for Billy.”
She whistled. “Bad news, chica. Does he know about your deal?”
“Yeah. I’m worried he’s going to tell Colin.” He hadn’t yet, though. I wasn’t quite sure why, but it was definitely a point in his favor.
“How do you keep it all straight? Is there anybody who knows the whole truth?”
I considered. “No.”
“Lonely,” she said softly.
She was right. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it would be nice to have one person who knew everything. Someone I didn’t have to watch my words with or monitor my reactions for. I’d lost that when Verity died. And it made me sad that she’d never been able to tell me the whole truth, either. I wondered how Lena had pegged the feeling so quickly. If she felt that way, too.
The line had petered out, and we started to clean up. “Back in a minute,” Lena said.
She picked up one of the few remaining cookies and casually crossed the room toward the little girl from earlier. She crouched down to talk with the kid, handing her the cookie, which disappeared instantly. The mother hadn’t lost her hunted, stricken look, and Lena spoke with her, still in a crouch, her expression intent. She pulled out a pen from her pocket and scribbled something on a paper napkin, folded it twice, and pressed it into the woman’s hand.
“Are you nearly finished?” Niobe asked, and I jumped.
“Sorry. I was distracted.” Lena was still talking to the woman and the little girl. Worry seemed to coalesce around them, almost visible. “Did you hear about last night?”
She nodded briefly, glancing around with obvious distaste. “You were lucky. Again.”
“Not that lucky. My uncle saw everything. He knows about the Arcs. I think he’ll try to use it.” I bit my lip, imagining Billy with magic at his disposal. So much power—and I’d already seen how much he’d risk to go after what he wanted.
“Your uncle is not an issue,” she said. “Who among us has a reason to help him? Luc might, if he thought it would win your favor. But knowing what I do about your family, that seems an unlikely scenario. You have more pressing concerns, Mo. Your uncle and his world are a trifle.”
“Maybe for you,” I muttered.
She shifted impatiently. “How many more of these visits?”
I bristled. “What’s the matter? Too many Flats for your taste? You don’t like homeless people?”
She rolled her eyes. “I spend all day surrounded by Flats. A few more wouldn’t make a difference. Not everyone here is a Flat, Mo. Pay attention to what’s in front of you.”
I tuned in, trying to read the lines, and I nearly dropped the platter I was holding. At least ten of the people in the room were Arcs, but you couldn’t tell from their appearance. Faint, almost untraceable magic drifted around them, but they didn’t seem to notice.
“What’s wrong with them?”
“A variety of things.” She seemed oddly shaken, watching them. Her hands moved restlessly, plucking at her bouclé suit. “Some of them don’t have enough power to draw on the lines. Others could not withstand the force of their powers manifesting, and the magic burned through them, like an overloaded lightbulb.”
“But what are they doing
here?
”
“Surviving. You’re supposed to be cleaning up, yes?”
I started stacking platters and serving utensils, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the Arcs dotting the room. The magic around them tapered off to a tattered silver thread, or a burnt ember glow. Some were so weak I couldn’t discern their element. To anyone else, they would simply look like some homeless people. Everything about them—matted hair, unwashed clothes, empty eyes—seemed drained, the color of dust.
“This is the underside of the Ascendency. The Seraphim promise great power to those who survive. But they will cull our society of those deemed weak or unworthy. Render them powerless and adrift. They’ll end up like this. Only the very strongest of our kind would still have magic.”
“Would you?”
She shrugged. “I’d like to think so, but there are no guarantees. No one knows for certain who would benefit.”
“But the Seraphim have lots of followers. Why would they support the Ascendency if most of them would end up like this?”
“It’s the rare individual who enters a battle assuming they’ll lose,” she said. “It calls for an uncomfortable level of self-scrutiny.”
I ferried dishes between the dining room and kitchen, but I couldn’t stop looking at the Arcs. They hunched over their plates, shoveling in food as if this was their only meal of the day. It probably was.
“Why doesn’t someone help them?” I asked Niobe when she passed by. “Their families, their Houses? The Quartoren?”
“They try. But sometimes our help isn’t welcomed. The people here aren’t the only ones, you know. Some manage to live quite convincingly among Flats. Some rely on their connections in our world. But sometimes ...” She looked out over the room. “Sometimes people would prefer to walk away, rather than live surrounded by what they cannot have.
“There’s nothing more to do here,” she added. “Round up your friends from the kitchen. It’s time to leave.”
“What’s up with her?” Lena asked as we pulled on our coats. “Not that she ever gives off the warm and fuzzy vibe, of course.”
“I’m not sure,” I said, staring at Niobe’s ramrod-straight posture. We made our way outside, “Speaking of warm and fuzzy, that was nice of you—slipping that little girl another cookie.”
She toyed with the zipper of her coat. “She was such a skinny little thing. I figured one more wouldn’t hurt.”
“You were over there for a while. Did you know her?” We circled the church, heading for the parking lot where Colin was supposed to meet me.
“I’ve never seen her before,” Lena said. There was more to the story, I was sure, but before she could tell me it was complicated or something I wouldn’t understand—the same excuses I’d been giving her all year—she caught sight of something over my shoulder, her face lighting up.
“This ought to be entertaining,” she said, and I turned to see Colin and Luc, staring each other down. “We should charge admission.”
We crossed the parking lot quickly. “Hey, Colin,” said Lena. “Nice to see you. And not bleeding, even. It’s a good look.”
“Lena.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
“And ... Secret Guy. Luc, right?”
Luc bowed slightly. “Always a pleasure. Never met a girl with timing like yours.”

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