Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) (15 page)

We had a full-on Sunday-type dinner with hot rolls and gravy, and it was probably the best home-cooked meal I’d ever eaten. After scarfing down a thick slab of tart apple pie smothered in some sort of caramel sauce and thanking Mrs. Quigley, I waddled to the doorway and Vaughn followed. I slid on my coat and tried to get my speech together in my head. Letting him down gently but firmly. Making sure he knew we could definitely hang out again as friends. Especially if his mom was doing the cooking.

“Thanks a lot for coming over.” His hand was sweaty enough that it slid off the doorknob, and it took two tries for him to open the door. I stepped out, and he followed and shut the door behind us.

“Thanks for asking me. This was a lot better than pizza.” That was a stretch, since pizza is my favorite thing in the universe, but not much of one.

“I’m glad you came.” Vaughn hadn’t put on a coat himself, and it was actually a good look for him. Within ten seconds of being in the just-above-freezing temperatures, he appeared to be Sahara-dry and his usually crimson cheeks were a jolly shade of pink.

He leaned in and the scent of pearl onions jarred me into the realization that he was about to kiss me.

“Oh, no, I—”

Too late. His lips were on mine, and I squeezed my eyes closed, ready to clamp down hard on the need to take…but it never came. I had no feelings about it or him one way or the other, which only made my near-violent physical reaction to Mac even more confounding.

I geared up to back off but didn’t need to bother. It was over before I even had a chance to pull away. As far as kisses went, it wasn’t the worst, I had to admit. Not wet, which was an unexpected bonus, and firm but tentative. Like a welcome-home kiss from a longtime friend. And I hadn’t even tried to kill him. Double bonus.

I didn’t want to encourage him, but it was hard to hide my relief and sheer joy at that fact, and I grinned.

He leaned back and gave me a shaky smile in return. “Listen, I think you’re really nice, Maggie.”

“Well.” I picked at an invisible piece of lint on my jacket. “I think you’re nice, too, Vaughn.”
But…

“But.”

I stopped picking. The “but” was his not mine, and I jerked my head up to look at him.

Fresh sweat had broken out on his upper lip, and he swiped at it with his knuckles. “I think we’re better off as, yanno…friends.”

I stared at him, unable to even blink. Was this actually happening?

He shifted restlessly from foot to foot and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “See, there’s this girl in Hortense’s class, Ella Stevens?”

This
was
actually happening. A sudden, inexplicable urge to argue with him flickered through me and I almost opened my mouth, but then I remembered. Not only was I not into Vaughn, he’d just saved me the trouble of “breaking up” with him.

“I really like her. And I think she looked kinda mad about the note and stuff, so I was hoping…” He paused and held up a hand, rushing to add, “I don’t want you to think I was using you with the invite and the note or anything. I think you’re super pretty and all, but now I’m thinking I might have a chance with her. So…”

So…sorry, toots. It’s not you, it’s me.

The absurdity of the situation had hysterical laughter bubbling deep in my throat, and I nearly choked on my own saliva trying to hold it back.

“Oh, no. No, please don’t cry, Maggie,” Vaughn pleaded, patting my shoulder awkwardly.

I held up a finger and shook my head, using every ounce of control and willpower I had to keep it together. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. It was just a shock, is all. I hope we can still be friends,” I said solemnly.

He looked painfully relieved and nodded. “Of course. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. We’ll just say that it was mutual.”

Cuz Vaughn was a real class act like that.

I hated to see him get cut to shreds when he asked out his true ladylove. “Do me a favor and be careful, okay? Ella is dating Mac Finnegan. And even if she wasn’t, I used to be friends with her. She’s not a nice person.”

He gave me a sympathetic smile. Sour grapes from a woman scorned, he probably figured. That was my cue to go, and I spun on the ball of my foot to trot down the front steps.

“Thank your mom again, and good luck with Ella!” I called back to him.

He stood at the doorway and watched me go until I rounded the corner. The rest of my walk home was a good one, considering. I randomly exploded into a fit of giggles as I replayed the evening in my head. Sure, tomorrow there would be some talk about me and Vaughn, but it was all good. I didn’t have much of a reputation to protect, I hadn’t killed or maimed anyone tonight, and Vaughn had more confidence and was better off than he had been yesterday. According to my scorecard, it was Maggie 1, Mac 0. Somehow, having the leg up on him made me just a little less angry.

I walked up my driveway, still chuckling, when I noticed a car parked next to my mom’s. Mac’s car. Adrenaline coursed through me as I approached the driver’s side door with mounting horror. Empty. So did that mean he was inside?

I jogged the rest of the way to the front door and opened it, panic mounting as I desperately trying to come up with a sensible reason for why he would have come to my house that didn’t involve him torturing my family to get me to do what he wanted.

I stepped into the hallway, heart galloping in my chest, and called out, “Mom?”

“In the kitchen,” she shouted back.

I hurried in to find her standing at the sink washing pots and pans. “Who’s here?” I asked, taking care to keep my voice light despite my nerves.

“Oh, your friend Mac stopped by. He’s chatting with Gram while I clean up the dinner dishes.” She smiled over her shoulder. “You missed it. I made my best veggie lasagna yet. Mac loved it.” She lowered her voice and looked around quickly before adding, “He’s a real looker, huh? And that accent!” She waggled her brows and turned back to the dishes.

He was certainly a “looker,” but the word paled in comparison to all the other ones that came to mind at the moment. If he upset my grandmother, Council be damned, he would see what I was really made of.

I walked into the living room, power sizzling through me so freely it was a surprise I wasn’t glowing.

Gram sat on her recliner and Mac sat mostly on the couch but was leaning over her.

My heart punched into overdrive. “Get away from her,” I snapped and rushed over.

He sat back and released the corner of the blanket he’d been holding. “Chill,” he whispered, nodding in her direction. “We were watching
Murder, She Wrote
, and she fell asleep. Knocked the covers off herself. I was just fixing them.”

I watched her chest rise and fall and that settled me some, but not completely. This boy was enough to drive even the sanest girl nuts, and I sure wasn’t that.

Gram coughed then, a low rumble starting in her chest and working its way up in slow, agonizing measures. I patted her gently until the fit passed and she reached up to hold my hand for a brief second.

“Beware the gray wolves, boy,” she muttered fitfully.

“Shh. It’s okay, Gram. It’s me, Maggie.” I patted her some more and she stopped fussing, her eyes drifting closed again.

I stepped back and faced Mac, folding my arms over my chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”

A weird look passed over his face, and he ignored my question, staring at Gram instead. “Why did she say that?”

“She says a lot of things,” I snapped. “She’s…not right anymore. She gets confused a lot and—” I hated that I had to say it out loud and I blamed that on Mac, too. “I’m going to ask you one more time. What the hell are you doing here?”

He looked away and blew out a breath. “I don’t know anymore.” His hard gaze softened as he looked at my grandmother. “At first it was to piss you off. Now that I’ve been here for a while, I just don’t know anymore.”

He glanced around the room, his keen gaze taking in the photos of my mom and dad, and me in my tutu at my first ballet recital. When his eyes settled on me, they seemed to look right through me, and my stomach clenched hard. He shoved a hand into his hair, sending a lock flopping onto his forehead.

“I’ll do it, Maggie.”

Had I heard him right? I stared at him, pulse pounding, afraid to believe it. Hell, he looked like he could barely believe it himself.

“I’ll try to show you how to control your powers. I won’t baby you or take any shit, and one slipup from you or hint that you’re a menace to someone else, we’re done. I’m going on record right now and saying I don’t think this will work.” He pushed himself to his feet and towered over me, jaw clenched so tight, it was a wonder it didn’t fracture.

I ignored the last part and focused on the important bits. He was going to try to help me. Tears of relief welled up, and I blinked them back. When I opened my mouth to thank him, he held up a hand.

“You don’t want to thank me—I can promise you that. It’s not going to be pleasant. I’ll see how much time they give me. Then once our training is over, the Council will send for you. Either you will go with me willingly, or I will be instructed to dispatch you.” His expression held a grim warning, and I had no doubt he was telling the truth. “Dispatched” was a pretty awful word, and a sliver of panic wormed its way in to mix with my elation.

“Once we get there,” he continued, “they’ll put you through a series of tests. When you fail, they’ll make sure this gets taken care of.”

I didn’t know which stung more. The fact that he had complete faith that I would fail or the idea of “this” getting “taken care of.” Meaning the Council would strip my powers. I refused to even contemplate the other word he’d tossed out so casually. “Dispatched
.
”

I shuddered inwardly but pushed back the fear. It wouldn’t do me any good to think that far ahead. I needed to concentrate on the now, and right now, Mac Finnegan had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to try to help me. As long as I agreed to his terms, I had a chance. I only just managed to keep myself from doing a victory dance.

Maggie 2, Mac 0.

Chapter Nine

Dear She,

My girlfriend has a serious jealousy problem. She doesn’t even want me to have girls as friends. I think it’s ridiculous, but if I argue with her, she insists it’s because I’m cheating on her. I’m not interested in anyone but her, and I can’t figure out how to convince her of that without blowing off all my old friends (who happen to be girls).

Sincerely,

Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Dear Caught,

This IS a tough one. See, sometimes, jealousy isn’t about what you’re doing or not doing. You could be the greatest guy in the world, but if the last guy she dated cheated on her or abused her trust, then unfortunately, the aftermath winds up in your lap. It sucks the big one, I know. I say, if you really love her, keep at it. Actions speak louder than words. Just be patient, try to be aware of the way you’re acting around other girls, and make sure you don’t give her reasons to be jealous. I guarantee, eventually she’ll come around.

Forever yours,

She

I stared down at the e-mail with unseeing eyes, totally distracted. Four weeks. That’s what Mac had gotten the Council to agree to. He’d said normally he’d have had to haul my ass in immediately, but he’d vouched for me and was able to wheedle a four week stay of execution. A month to take what he showed me and see if I could get enough control over my powers. Then it was off to the Council for the tests he expected me to fail. I would be at the mercy of the Amaranth. If they felt I’d earned redemption and were satisfied I wouldn’t hurt anyone—else—then I could be pardoned. If not? I would be stripped of my powers. What Mac neglected to mention until he called me late last night was that, along with my powers, my memories would be lost as well.

If they didn’t strip me completely, there was a chance that my powers would return, and the Council wasn’t in the biz of taking chances. I’d remember how to walk and talk and feed myself, but I wouldn’t remember my name or my life or my mother. Why Mac ever thought I’d have agreed to that willingly was batshit baffling. It would devastate my entire family. My mom and Gram, I could get to know again in time. But my dad?

Pain sucked the air from my lungs. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t. He’d already been taken away from me too soon, but to steal away what little time we’d had? No fucking way.

I squeezed my eyes closed and pushed back the terror, clinging to what I knew was the truth. Dad would be disappointed in me if he were here, and that was the worst thought of all.

Deep down I knew if I couldn’t control my powers, I didn’t deserve to keep them. And if losing my memory—losing my
dad
—was the price I had to pay in order to make sure I never hurt anyone again, I needed to suck it up and do it. I couldn’t live with any more guilt.

I was putting my faith in me. This would work. I’d make sure of it.

We had set up our first meeting for after school behind an abandoned house a couple streets over from mine. The huge backyard butted up against a ravine, and a wall of towering pine trees encased the rest of the property. With the nearest neighbor more than a hundred yards away, it was as good a spot as any.

I had a thousand questions ready to fire at him the second I got there, so I was practically bouncing by the time art class rolled around, in spite of having my balls broken by no less than a dozen people for my date with Vaughn.

He’d been a gentleman and, true to his word, told people we’d opted to be just friends. By midafternoon, everyone except Libby had moved on to talking about the fistfight that went down at lunchtime. My girl, however, officially had a major hate-on for Mac. I think she despised him even more than gluten, and that was saying something.

She’d spent the better part of the morning hatching bitter revenge plots against him for the thing with Vaughn, but I’d finally managed to talk her down. Good thing, because I was about to be spending a good amount of time with him and, at this point, couldn’t tell her why. If I did, she’d try to talk me out of it and I couldn’t afford that. What if she succeeded? Shit, I’d almost talked myself out of it a thousand times, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t afford to let her sway me. Lives were at risk if I didn’t learn to control myself. And the memory of my dad…