Authors: Erica O'Rourke
Bound (31 page)
C
HAPTER
38
HAPTER
38
I
f Anton hadn’t been holding on to me so tightly, I would have slapped the smirk off Constance’s face right then and there.
f Anton hadn’t been holding on to me so tightly, I would have slapped the smirk off Constance’s face right then and there.
“Damn it, Constance. You’re supposed to be smart.”
She tossed her hair back and unfastened the blue cloak she’d been wearing, kicking it away.
“Smart enough to fool you,” she said. “Did you really think you and I were good, Mo? You let Verity die—you ran and left her to fight the Darklings all alone. She died because she was trying to save your worthless ass.”
“Darklings that Anton sent,” I said. “Why am I the bad guy when he’s the one who had her killed?”
Constance was still trembling, but with rage. Not fear. She practically spat at me. “Verity wouldn’t listen to them. If she’d listened, and joined the Seraphim when they asked her, it would have been okay. But she was too worried about getting back to you and your stupid plans for New York. And then she was dead, and you stole her life. You slipped right into it like she’d never existed. You took her boyfriend. And then you killed my aunt so you could take her place here.”
“Evangeline was working with them. She betrayed Verity. What the hell is wrong with you, Constance?”
“You don’t understand this world,” she replied. “You don’t like it. You don’t even respect it. He’s trying to make it better. Stronger. And all you do is interfere.”
“You are such a moron,” I said. “You know what else? You have a terrible memory. Last time we fought, I kicked your ass. And I’m going to do it again, as soon as I’m finished here.”
Anton wrenched my arm around so that I was facing him again. “Then let’s begin.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said as he clapped his hands along my temples. It felt as if he were actually digging through my brain, icy fingers plucking out random memories, and the sensation made me gag. But I was prepared this time. I gave him the worst memories I had—holding Verity’s body as she died, the Darklings reaching for me in the park, the sight of Kowalski burning up in the magic, Ekomov slumped on the floor of the nursing home. The very worst of what I’d seen, I gave to him in vivid color. When he reached for more, I didn’t fight. Instead I let the full strength of the magic—its intelligence, its power, the untempered force I’d once taken inside myself—coalesce into one furious stream of energy, and I poured it directly into his mind.
He was so greedy he didn’t even realize what was happening at first. He soaked up the magic, his glee and avarice unbridled, until it overwhelmed him. When he finally tried to draw back, the magic wouldn’t let him, forcing its way through the Rivening, turning against him. I spoke the words the magic gave to me—warning and outrage and punishment—visceral, powerful words that sliced through his defenses and hollowed him out, filled him with raw magic.
I felt the power of it, and for the barest moment, I thought about stopping. But then I thought about Verity, and the future he’d taken from her, all the memories she’d never make. The life she should have had.
The life I should have had.
I did not stop.
Luc had told me that raw magic killed Arcs from the inside out. The bigger their talent, he’d said, the longer it took. Anton was strong—he’d staked his claim as leader of the Seraphim on his power. But now, it prolonged his suffering. When the Darklings breached the walls of the House, it was Anton—raw magic streaming from his eyes and mouth and fingertips and chest—that they went for. Even when his screaming turned to their language, and he begged for them to stop, directed them toward me, they ignored him, snatched him up in their talons, and his screams turned incoherent.
The Darklings ripped him apart. I didn’t look away, though many of the Arcs did. The magic recognized the moment Anton’s heart stopped. Lightning fast, it retreated to the lines, sealing itself away from the Darklings. Anton was dead, and I fell to the ground, spent.
And then the Darklings were among us, and the battle began.
Quartoren Guards threw off their robes and began to fight. The rest of the Water Arcs summoned their own weapons from Between. But I was too tired to fight now, and my dagger was onstage, too far away to be of any use.
Luc reached me before the first Darkling struck, hauling me to my feet and pulling me inside. I stared out the ballroom doors at the violence raging outside.
“It’s done,” he said, standing beside me.
I felt the cold hunger rise up and squeeze my heart, releasing another icy flood of grief, reminding me of all I’d lost. For a moment, I was lost, too, wanting to find a new target. And then I felt Luc’s hand, warm in mine, and I realized I didn’t want the coldness within me any longer.
“Yeah,” I said, “it is.”
We found a sitting room and curled up on the couch. The sounds of the fighting were muted, but Luc kept staring at the arched doorway like he longed to dash through it. “I don’t like missing this,” he said. “I should be out there.”
“But you can’t fight on the grounds of another House, right? Even though we’re bound?”
He made a noise of frustration deep in his throat. “No.”
“Good.” I didn’t want to risk losing him after everything we’d survived. I glanced up and grimaced as the Quartoren swept into the room. “You can protect me from your dad.”
“That I can do,” Luc said, and moved to intercept Dominic, who was shouting about my recklessness and how I’d endangered the magic.
Orla sat down in a silk-covered chair and eyed me critically. “You knew Constance Grey was a traitor.”
We won’t let them win,
I’d told her.
I’d told her.
And she’d smiled and said,
You’ll try.
You’ll try.
“I didn’t, actually. I just had a feeling, when he brought her out. So I gambled. ”And won. Or lost, depending on how you looked at it.
“Surely there was some sign,” Orla pressed.
“Anton kept finding me. At school. At Morgan’s. Even at Ekomov’s. I wasn’t using magic, or tapping into the lines, so he shouldn’t have been able to find me so easily. Even Luc said so. I figured someone who knew my schedule was tipping him off.”
“And you didn’t suspect Niobe?”
“No. I kept thinking about the first attack at St. Brigid’s. Constance was casting a spell at the exact same moment Anton was Rivening Jill. I thought it was a coincidence, but it was actually a diversion. She was helping him get close to me.” I leaned back, shaking my head. “All the times we spoke ... she never blamed the Seraphim for Verity’s death—only me. And she was never afraid they would come after her. Constance
always
worries about herself first, but even after the attacks, she wasn’t scared.”
always
worries about herself first, but even after the attacks, she wasn’t scared.”
You’re the one they want,
she’d said.
she’d said.
“I should have monitored her more closely.” Orla’s lips thinned. “We can’t keep her from the House, but there will be consequences. I promise you that.”
“Do what you want,” I said. “She’s not my responsibility anymore.”
“She’s still on the grounds,” Pascal said. “She can’t cross the boundaries without a Water Arc taking her through. Assuming she survives the Darklings.”
“She’ll survive,” I said wearily. She’d get someone to take her to safety. This Constance, the one I didn’t know, was a survivor. My heart ached for the girl she’d been. The one I’d considered my own little sister, who’d tagged along after us and played Barbies, who’d helped us make cookies in the Greys’ light-filled kitchen and burned her mouth because she was too impatient to let them cool.
“How long have you known the magic is alive?” Pascal asked. “You must have been communicating for some time to have refined your abilities so much.”
“Since we were bound. I don’t know how it happened.”
“I have a theory,” he said. “If you’d like to hear it.”
I nodded. Luc rejoined me on the couch while Dominic silently fumed across the room.
Pascal said, “When the magic used Verity’s blood as a conduit—transferred her role as the Vessel to you—it recognized that you were not an Arc. In that moment, I believe the magic saw an opportunity. Someone who could withstand its force but not use it. Who could speak for the magic without imposing her will upon it. More important, it also felt how very alone you were. It felt a kinship—it has spent eternity in isolation. The magic chose you to be its voice precisely because you were the only person it believed could understand it.”
“It wanted me all along? Not Verity?” Six months ago, I wouldn’t have believed him. But now, considering everything we’d been through and everything we’d done, it seemed right. Fitting.
“Verity was meant for one purpose only: to be the Vessel. To stop the Torrent. I can’t guess what would have come after that, had she lived. But in the end, she was not the Vessel. You made that destiny your own, and the path since then has been yours alone.” He looked at Luc for an instant, then smiled at me.
“The Darklings are retreating,” said Dominic. “We’ll proceed with the ceremony as soon as they’re gone.”
“Should have expected Anton would bring them through the boundaries,” Luc muttered.
“It’s poetic justice that they finished him off after he’d done so much damage with them,” Orla said. I had to agree.
“If I were a gambling man,” Dominic said, “I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet you’ll be elevated to the Quartoren. The Water Arcs have seen what you can do—they’d be fools not to. Guess we’re the fools now.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked sweetly. “I thought you wanted me on the Quartoren. Wasn’t that the whole point of this? You figured if I was a Matriarch, you could keep me in line. You should have listened to Luc.”
Luc smiled at his father and draped an arm over my shoulders. “I’ve been trying to keep her in line since the day we met,” he said. “She ain’t an Arc, but she’s still a force of nature. I’m not the one you need to listen to. She is.”
Sabine entered the room, her robe ripped and blood-stained, her expression grim. “The Darklings have been vanquished. It would be good to conclude the ceremony now. My people are eager to put these events behind us.”
“People should listen to me,” I said to Luc. A certainty had crept over me in the last few minutes, and the magic thrummed approval.
“That would be my suggestion.”
We stepped out onto the veranda again. The basin sat empty before us. The Arcs, disheveled and battle-scarred, stood in ragged lines before us. The bodies of the fallen lay in a neat row at the foot of the steps, their cloaks like shrouds, the last casualties in the war against the Seraphim. I bowed my head at the sight and said the Hail Mary under my breath, lifelong instinct taking over.
Then I looked up at the array of battle-hardened faces in front of me, and took a deep breath, and spoke. For
myself
.
myself
.
“In a moment, you will walk up these steps and decide who you want to lead this House forward into a new age. You need someone strong and wise and loyal. Someone who will fight for this House and its people in all things.
“I am not that person.
“Do not choose me. I won’t fight for you. I can’t. My loyalty is not with you, or any House. My loyalty is to the magic. You have to choose a new path today, and it should not be set by me.” Then I stepped back; looked at Sabine’s startled, lovely face; and held my hand over the water.
“Sabine Levaret,” I said, loud enough for my voice to carry to the back of the crowd. Deliberately, I crossed the stage and took Luc’s hand, and let the voting begin.
Each member of the House approached, filing up the steps in a silent, undulating line that stretched to the back of the grounds. One by one, they stretched a hand over the basin and whispered a name, and a single droplet of water fell from their fingertips into the basin. Gradually, it filled, the water inside turning the blue of a tropical sea.
“Sabine?” he asked me. “Her spell wasn’t much to write home about.”
“The magic responded to her. She’s smart. She’s strong. She might not be showy, but she stood up to your father.”
“Good point. Want to get out of here?” Luc murmured. “Your part’s done. Quartoren will do the induction privately later on.”
“Do you think anyone would notice?”
“Do you care?”
I shook my head, and he led me through the empty rooms to the front lawn. It was like sneaking out, and I couldn’t help laughing, giddy with relief. We slipped off our shoes and waded through the stream, pushed through the gate, and stood on the deserted street.
“They’re the House of Levaret now,” he said. “New name.”
“New world.” Not just for them. The magic unfurled itself, slipping free of the tight bonds of fear that had constrained it since the attack, growing stronger with every breath. I had the faint, nagging feeling I’d left something undone, but for now, it was enough that we’d restored the balance.
Luc’s expression was pensive. “Take you home?” he asked.
I thought about the disaster that awaited me back in Chicago. Ekomov was dead, Billy was on the warpath. My mom was probably frantic, and the police had to be closing in. If I went back, I’d be heading straight into chaos. It was too much for one day. “Not yet. Can we go back to your place?”
Other books
Interview with a Playboy by Kathryn Ross
The Winds of Heaven by Judith Clarke
Noisy at the Wrong Times by Michael Volpe
Days of Ignorance by Laila Aljohani
Twenty-Four Hours by Allie Standifer
1634: The Baltic War by Eric Flint, David Weber
The Good Daughter by Honey Brown
Reader's Block by David Markson
In Distant Fields by Charlotte Bingham
Far From Home: The Complete Series by Tony Healey