Torn. Part 14

When I wake up, they're gone. Verity lies nearby, her arms and legs at strange angles. Her breathing is shallow and much too fast, and when I look, her chest is the worst thing I've ever seen, a jagged tear down the middle, making a sucking, rattling noise with every breath.

"Mo . . ." she gasps, faint as an echo. Her eyes are gla.s.sy and distant, the pupils tiny pinp.r.i.c.ks. "Sorry . . ."

"You're okay," I sob, trying to hold the wound closed, an ocean of blood spreading around us, hers and mine together. "Just . . . hang on, Vee, don't go, don't you go, don't leave me. . . ." But there is too much blood, more than anyone can survive, and she is so, so cold. Shock and blood loss, I think dimly, remembering the first aid unit of health cla.s.s. There's a figure at the end of the alley and I fall toward it, still holding Verity in my arms.

"And then I was in the hospital."

"I found you both in the alley," Luc said. "Somebody had called 911. I patched you up the best I could before the cops came. There wasn't anything I could do for Vee. Ten minutes earlier, might have had a chance."

I didn't know I'd been crying until Luc brushed at the wetness on my cheeks and laced his fingers with mine. "Mouse . . . Maura. I'm sorry."

"I tried to help her," I whispered. "It wasn't enough, but I tried."

" 'Course you did," he soothed. He turned my hand over to see the ugly raised line stretching across my skin. "I can make this go away, you know."

I pulled away, clasping my hands together. "I want it," I said, not willing to explain why, even to myself. "And I want the people who sent the Darklings."

He let out a shocked laugh. "I don't think so. The one tonight nearly killed you. They'll send more if you stay in this."

"I can help!"

"Not like that, you can't. Too dangerous, Mouse."

"These people . . . they have magic, right? They won't go to jail?"

"Little hard to lock up. There are other ways to stop them, though."

"Like killing them?"

He s.h.i.+fted. "Maybe."

"Then I'm going to help."

His eyes narrowed. "No, you ain't. Dangerous enough for an Arc. For a Flat, it's suicide."

"I don't care."

"Look, that ring should work only for Verity. For it to do what it did tonight . . . it must think you're her. We can use that, maybe even stop the prophecy. Do you have any idea what that means for my kind? But you go out and get yourself killed, lookin' for revenge, we lose everything."

"I don't care about your prophecy. I want justice."

His expression darkened for a second, then cleared, a crafty light entering his eyes, turning them a dazzling shade of green. Casually, he asked, "What if you could have both?"

"I don't need both."

"But you need me," he pointed out. "You try to do this alone, they'll drop you by lunchtime tomorrow."

Inside, I shuddered, but kept my face neutral. "And this matters to you because . . . ?"

"I've saved your life twice now," he said easily. "Be good to protect my investment. I'll make you a deal."

"You're a big one for cutting deals, aren't you?"

"Makes the world go 'round," he said.

"Charming."

"So I've heard. Like I said, seems like you can use Vee's ring, and that could be useful."

"Useful how?"

His tone was guarded. "Not exactly sure yet."

"But you have an idea."

He traced the chain with the tip of his index finger, and I s.h.i.+vered again. He kept his voice low. "I am chock-full of ideas. For right now, let's say that our a.s.sociation could be mutually beneficial. You help me, and I'll let you tag along, hmn?"

He'd saved my life (twice), healed my wounds, fed me tea and toast, explained more than anyone else had since Verity died and yet . . . I was missing something. There was more to this than what he was telling me. But even if he didn't have the answers I needed, he was the only one who could help me get them.

"I'm not tagging along. This might be your world, but I've got the ring. We're partners."

He looked up sharply, searching my face, and finally nodded. "Partners, Mouse. Should make for an interestin' ride."

CHAPTER 13.

I spent the next few days waiting for someone-Colin, Luc, my uncle, a horde of Darklings-to jump out at me. It made for a rocky start to the school year.

Kowalski, however, was a surprise. He sat on one of the benches outside the front door of the school. The light still had that end-of-summer glow, even in September, and the leaves were barely edged with yellow, like they were only toying with the idea of changing. Kowalski had both arms thrown over the back of the bench, soaking up the sun and admiring the view. His tie, purple and orange plaid, was so hideous it nearly vibrated. He spotted me and raised a hand in greeting as I came down the steps. I cast a quick, panicked glance at the curb, where Colin was parked. He'd given the all-clear sign, but no way would he wait patiently on the sidelines while I chatted with the police.

Kowalski stood, and on cue, Colin climbed out. I frowned, trying to will him back, but even with Verity's ring hidden beneath my s.h.i.+rt, I didn't have any powers. He kept coming.

"Nice weather, isn't it?" Kowalski said, gesturing at the puffy clouds drifting above us. "Hard to believe it'll all be over soon. I tell you, Mo, winters here are getting to be too much for me and the missus. Soon as Jenny heads off to college, we're moving to Pensacola."

I didn't say a word, simply s.h.i.+fted my bag a little and forced myself not to touch the ring, safely out of sight.

Kowalski breathed deeply, gazing upward. "Yep, I'm gonna fish every day. Trout, maybe, or redfish. Worlds different from what we get up here." His eyes lowered to mine. "Can we chat for a minute?" He gestured to the bench where his sport coat lay in a heap.

I remained standing. "I'm not supposed to talk to you without my lawyer."

He nodded. "Sure, sure. I just figured you might want to talk, you know, off the record. It's not even about the case."

He turned and lifted the tired-looking sport coat a few inches off the bench. Underneath was my purse, the one I'd lost at the playground. I groaned without meaning to.

By the time Luc had brought me back to my room that night, the sky was turning pink and blue, the sun edging over the horizon. Exhausted from the entire night, and nauseated from going Between again, I barely managed to pull on an old T-s.h.i.+rt before falling into bed. When I'd realized the purse was gone, I'd figured it was a lost cause.

"You want to call Ms. Stratton now? Your phone's still in there."

I sank onto the bench, dropping my messenger bag with a thud. Colin was ten yards away, looking totally uninterested but listening to every word. I could deal with him later, though. The first thing to do was take care of Kowalski.

"Good choice," he said. "Some kid at the grade school over on Montvale found it at recess today, turned it in to the uniform at the school. And when he checked the ID, your name rang a bell."

He handed it to me. The damp, mud-stained leather squelched unpleasantly when I gripped it.

"Must've been caught in that rain we had Sunday morning. What I'm trying to figure out is, why wouldn't you have gone looking for it? I mean, there's money in there, and your keys and phone-didn't you miss it?"

"I figured whoever found it would keep it," I said. Colin was watching me openly now, his face thoughtful, like a hawk trying to decide the exact right moment to swoop in on a baby rabbit. "I'm surprised they turned it in."

"Oh, people can surprise you. All the time."

I smiled tightly and reached for my book bag. "Well, thanks for bringing it back."

"My pleasure." He slapped his hands on his knees, like he was about to stand, and then settled back. "What were you doing over there, anyway? Hard to believe you'd be running around the city at night."

"I was at a friend's house," I said stiffly. "We went for a walk, and I must have left it behind. I've been kind of distracted lately."

"Can't blame you there. I'm glad we were able to return it. Your uncle's tax dollars at work, huh?" He stood up and shrugged into the navy sport coat.

"Thanks again, sir."

Two steps, and he turned back. "The uniform said something else, too. The playground was pretty ripped up-big gashes in the dirt, a couple of spots even looked scorched. And they had one of those big metal climbers, looks like Epcot. You know the type?"

"I've seen one before."

"Well, a bunch of the bars were cut away-sliced through, like someone was taking apart a Tinkertoy. d.a.m.ndest thing. I don't suppose you noticed anything like that on your walk?" He watched me closely, hands tucked in his pockets.

"Nope."

"Figured." He set off down the sidewalk, calling back over his shoulder, "You might want to watch yourself, Mo. Your friend over there doesn't seem to be doing such a bang-up job."

Colin's chin jerked up, and Kowalski strolled away without another glance. Colin was next to me in three strides.

"Don't be . . ." I began. Colin grabbed my elbow and hauled me across the street. " . . . mad."

"How was your book? The Shakespeare you needed to read?" he snarled, throwing open the pa.s.senger door and shoving me in. He tugged at the seat belt, leaned across me, and I slapped his hand away.

"Jeez! I can do it!"

"Really? You're not showing me you know f.u.c.k-all about taking care of yourself!"

Kids were coming out of school, a crowd of girls in blue plaid skirts and navy sweater vests. They cl.u.s.tered together, staring at the truck. I snapped the seat belt in place and sank down farther in my seat. "Keep your voice down!"

He slammed my door and stalked around to his side. I cringed as he slid in. "Right. Wouldn't want people to stare. I'm sure n.o.body noticed you talking to the good detective."

"They're used to the police by now. Reporters, too. You're different."

"I'm here every day." He slid into traffic, sped toward home.

"Yeah. Scowling. You're kind of hard to miss." Pointing out that my cla.s.smates were staring at more than just his face wouldn't help the situation. "I'm sorry," I said in a smaller voice.

"Where did you go?"

"A party." Louisiana.

I could actually see the vein in his temple pulsing. "You snuck out for a G.o.dd.a.m.n party?" His voice dripped with disgust.

"It was the biggest party of the year. Everybody went. I'm kind of the resident freak show right now. Excuse me for wanting to be normal for one night."

He shook his head. "Ask me to take you. Don't sneak out in the middle of the night. You could have been killed."

He had a point, although not the one he thought. "Normal girls don't take their bodyguards to high school parties. Normal girls don't even have bodyguards."

"You're not normal," he said gruffly, his eyes sliding over me. "This would be easier if you were."

I bit my lip. "Thanks a lot."

"That's not what I meant," he said, tone softening. He paused and shook his head, back to business. "Where else did you go? And don't tell me the party was at the playground, or some line like that."

I swallowed. The trick to telling a lie, I'd discovered, was to keep things as true as you could. "There was a guy at the party."

Colin's hands tightened on the wheel. "Did he hurt you?"

"No. No. He was saying stupid stuff, and I was trying to avoid him, and I ended up overhearing these girls-the one who threw the party, and all her b.i.t.c.hy little friends, and they were talking about Verity, and me. . . ." My eyes burned and my throat tightened, but I dragged in a breath and kept talking. "They were saying it should have been me. They said I was the target, not Verity. Because of Uncle Billy. Why would they say that?"

The hard, angry line of his mouth seemed to soften for a moment. "The playground, Mo."

The man was like a Rottweiler. "I left. I took my purse and walked around until I got to the playground. It seemed like a good place to sit and think."

"You'd been drinking?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because I'm not stupid. Even if you think otherwise."

"I don't think that!"

He slammed a fist into the dash. "Then quit lying! Kowalski said that playground was trashed! You're saying it's a coincidence?"

I picked my words carefully. "I didn't do anything to the playground."

"How did you get home?"