Torn. Part 23

"You have it?" he said to Evangeline.

In response, she spread her hands apart, and a fine platinum chain appeared. Pooling the ends in her hands, she spoke, her voice taking on a formal, almost singsong cadence. "In the beginning, there were only the elements: earth, air, fire, water. Utterly separate, they raged against each other, blunting their power. As Arcs learned to pull strength and magic from the elements, they, too, waged battles.

"At the height of war, the unthinkable occurred-a daughter of Fire fell in love with a son of Earth, and he with her. They hid their love, knowing such a secret would devastate their Houses. Miserable apart, they chose to steal away, but were caught. The girl's Patriarch challenged the boy to a fight. Before he could strike the boy down, the girl interceded, swearing by her breath, and blood, and magic, that she and her beloved were as one, and to injure the son of Earth would do harm to her as well.

"The daughter called on her lines to defend them, and her love did the same. Their lines-fire and earth-met and tangled, but instead of battling formed a greater protection against the magic of the Patriarch. The power of the lines marked them forever, binding them eternally, strengthening them beyond their individual talents. That was the first binding.

"Today, we call on the lines to unite Lucien and Maura, to bind them together according to the ancient tributes. Their sacrifice shall bring them increase, as it has been since the first. They shall become each other's refuge and strength, and stand for each other before the world."

I started to hyperventilate, the room growing fuzzy around the edges. Luc squeezed my hand.

Evangeline continued. "You must come here with an open and willing heart. Lucien, Heir to the House of DeFoudre, do you come thusly?"

"I stand beneath the First Arch, heart open and willing, ever thus." He gave me a crooked smile, encouraging.

"Maura, daughter of-" Evangeline hesitated, as if she was just realizing what a poor subst.i.tute I actually was. "Maura, daughter of the house of Fitzgerald, do you come thusly?"

I nodded, and Evangeline waited for more, but I couldn't remember the words. Finally, she sighed, the formal speech crisp with impatience. "I stand beneath the First Arch . . ."

"I stand beneath the First Arch . . ."

"Heart open and willing, ever thus."

"Heart open and willing, ever thus." I was willing. It had to be done. Painful as it was, Luc had laid my heart wide open the first time he kissed me. Whether I did it for Verity, or me, or both, I was stuck. Going back would be the actual end of the world.

The tension in Luc's shoulders seemed to ease a little.

Evangeline spoke again. "At the first binding, our ancestors were thrice-bound. So, too, shall you be. This chain represents the lines of your magic."

Luc held up his arm, and deftly, Evangeline wrapped one end of the chain around his wrist. "Breath, blood, and magic," she said, looping the silvery length around his wrist with each word.

He copied her, so quietly I saw more than heard it.

She repeated the whole wrist-wrapping thing with me, and I responded as Luc had. Was this it? The only pain I felt was a deep ache in my lungs, and I didn't think that's what he'd meant.

Luc laced his fingers with mine, then rested his other hand on my waist, pulling us together. He nodded encouragingly, and turned to Evangeline.

She looked wary, but said something in the liquid language I'd heard both her and Luc use. The same language Verity had spoken in the alley. Luc repeated the word back, slowly and clearly, and his fingers tightened on my hip. Evangeline s.h.i.+fted to me. I was supposed to repeat it, too, but I didn't know how. I wanted to ask Evangeline to say it again, but something in her face, graven and forbidding, prevented me. So I sighed and gave it my best shot, praying that the magic was listening to my intention, not my p.r.o.nunciation.

Luc smiled, a slight curve of his lips, and bent his head to mine.

It started like a decorous, Evangeline-is-three-feet-away kind of kiss, and then his hand slid up my back, and he tilted his head, changing the angle, deepening the kiss, and I forgot all about Evangeline and my inadequacies in foreign languages. I leaned in, ignoring the doubts and concentrating instead on the need cras.h.i.+ng through me, the satiny feel of his skin under my hands, and the taste of him, dangerous and sweet twined together.

Finally, he broke away, his expression a little bit stunned. It would have been an ego boost, but I was pretty sure I looked equally blown away.

Evangeline cleared her throat. Luc let go of my hand, turning it palm-up and placing his next to mine. The scar across it had faded a little more, and he brushed his finger over it gently. She spoke, and Luc repeated the words, his eyes never leaving mine, exaggerating every syllable. I copied him as best I could, encouraged.

Evangeline produced a glittering black rock, and quick as a snake, sliced across our palms. I shrieked, trying to pull away as a needle-thin line of blood welled up. Luc held me fast, pressing our hands together.

I was getting it now-breath, and blood, which I would have appreciated some warning about. Magic was the last one. How were they planning to get around the fact I didn't have any powers of my own?

Evangeline waited until she had my full attention, and said one last word. Luc echoed her, letting go of my hip to wrap his fingers around my wrist, where the chain was. I mirrored him and blundered through my part. What if I got it wrong? What if I was casting some sort of spell that turned us all into badgers, or stone, or caused an earthquake? What if I ruined it?

I winced as Luc's fingers clamped down. But it wasn't Luc-it was the chain itself, brightening in the dim light, changing from silver to platinum to supernova white. As I watched, the chain seemed to grow finer, sinking through my skin as it tightened. And it hurt. It was as if the line were actually cutting through me, burning through layers of skin and muscle and bone, and I trembled with the effort not to cry out. Luc felt it, too, the skin drawn tightly over his face, sweat beading on his forehead and over his lip, but his hand stayed pressed against mine. The pain radiated outward, and just as I was about to wrench myself away from Luc, unable to take another moment, warmth flashed through me, chasing away the pain. It was like lying next to a fire after you'd been in the snow too long-the relief was tremendous, but startling. Luc steadied me as the feeling faded, drawing me toward him. "As it was before, it is now. You are bound to one another, breath, blood, and magic, henceforth." Evangeline placed her hands on our heads. I was so weak I could barely stand against the slight pressure. "May you each strengthen the other as you walk the path fate has laid."

She released us, and the imposing mask she'd worn through the ceremony dropped. Her pale blue eyes were wide, her face almost slack. "It worked. I never imagined . . . See her home," she commanded Luc. "We'll reconvene after the mages and I have studied the implications."

With a sudden gust of magic, she was gone.

Luc tightened his arms around me. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

CHAPTER 22.

Luc brought me Between at the side of my house, away from the streetlights, and walked me to the front steps. The trip was easier than usual, but he kept a firm grip on me anyway.

"How you feelin'?"

"Okay, I guess. I thought the ceremony would be more complicated."

"Just 'cause something's simple doesn't mean it's easy. You did good."

I looked down at my wrist, at the rapidly fading welt where the chain had sunk in and vanished. "Is it inside of me?"

"In a way. It's joined to the lines, so it's not really part of this world anymore. It's still there, but you can't see it."

"How much room do we have?"

He c.o.c.ked his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it was a pretty short chain. Are we going to be Siamese twins?" I could imagine the look on my mom's face when I showed up with Luc in tow, unable to move more than eight inches from him. G.o.d, I was stupid. I hadn't even asked what the consequences of binding would be, or how it was going to disrupt my life. I should have planned it out more, looked at all the angles. Instead, I'd only seen Luc.

Luc, who was struggling not to laugh, and failing miserably. "You got as much running room as you need, Mouse. It ain't that kind of chain. You can go anywhere in the world you want. We'll still be bound."

I couldn't decide whether that was rea.s.suring or not. "What's next?"

He trailed a finger along my collarbone. "Depends what you want. We can go somewhere else. Back to New Orleans, or any place you like. Privacy would be nice, hmn?" He angled his head and leaned in for another kiss. The press of his lips against mine was different from before-less tentative, more possessive. It should have been irritating, an echo of his act at the Dauphine, but it wasn't. It was exciting, and my skin felt as if it were on fire, and I kissed him back just as hard, opening my mouth to his, for the first time meeting him as an equal.

"Name it, Mouse. Anywhere in the world, and we'll go right now." He nipped a line of kisses down my neck, and I let my head fall back, feeling more powerful than I ever had in my life. Even knowing what we were up against, knowing I should be focused on stopping the prophecy, I couldn't make myself turn away from him. It was like a drug, this recklessness, leaving my whole body alive with sensation. Luc's eyes glittered in the porch light, and the sharp planes of his face were shadowed and tempting. I wanted to trace them, burn them into my memory through touch alone. I wanted to see his face change and know it was because of me.

Except it wasn't me, I realized, even as Luc's arm slid around me. The knowledge seeped into me gradually, chilling me from the inside out. It was the binding. He'd said as much before the ceremony, and I'd accepted it. I had known the cost. I just didn't realize I'd have to pay so soon.

"Inside," I said, feeling regret and resolve and sheer longing trip over each other within me. I stepped back. "I need to get inside. My mom's in there."

"She won't notice." Luc tucked a wayward lock of my hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing along my neck. I felt the current of magic between us flare up.

"What are you doing? I mean, what spell?"

He looked sheepish. "You can feel it? Wasn't sure you'd be able to."

"What is it?"

"A kind of concealment. It keeps Flats from noticing anyone connected to the spell."

"Connected."

"By touch." He brushed a thumb over my nape, and I s.h.i.+vered. "It's a low-level thing. You start screaming or breakin' windows, people would mark it. But it's handy when you want to get around without a lot of questions."

"The hospital. That's how you were able to get into my room. And to see Verity."

"Like I said, it comes in handy."

"But what do people see?"

"What they expect to. Not so different from real life, I guess."

I pulled away, studying him. He leaned against the doorjamb and stared back. His gaze was slower and more thorough. More . . . intent. I tried to ignore the heat licking along my skin. "I can still see you."

He shrugged. "We're bound. Makes a difference. Besides, you're expectin' to see me."

"Could you hide now? Even though I know you're here?"

He grinned, slow and lazy, and then, as if I'd blinked for too long, he vanished. I turned slowly, searching for any sign of him-a ripple in the air, the sound of his breathing, anything. I could feel just the faintest hint of something against my wrist, where the chain had been, an odd tension.

"Okay," I called, feeling foolish. "You can come out now."

Nothing.

"Luc? Come on."

Just the regular traffic and late-night neighborhood noises. Someone wheeled their garbage can to the curb. A few houses away, a car started up and drove off.

I sighed. "It's very impressive, okay? I am in awe of your magical hide-and-seek abilities."

I jumped at the feeling of his hands on my waist and stifled a shriek. The same unseen hands crept under the hem of my T-s.h.i.+rt, grazing the skin, brus.h.i.+ng along the lower edge of my rib cage, feather light, and I was nearly dizzy with wanting him again.

His breath was hot against my shoulder, and it seemed impossible that he could make me so crazy when I couldn't see him. I turned toward him, and he backed me up against the door frame, his mouth on mine, my body turning to liquid, my brain not far behind.

He reappeared, his expression wolfish. "You sure you want to go inside?"

I blinked at the smug note in his voice. It wasn't fair. He had magic and confidence and he was gorgeous, and I was . . . just me. I pushed my hair back and then straightened my s.h.i.+rt, pleased my hands were steady. "I do. Colin's waiting for me to call."

Luc scowled, face darkening. "What's the deal with him?"

"With Colin? My uncle asked him to keep an eye on me."

"Ain't necessary. You know that."

"My uncle doesn't. Even if I could tell him the truth, he wouldn't believe it. It's like you said-he expects to see the danger coming from something he already knows, so that's where he sees it. Colin's not so bad."

"He's in the way."

I c.o.c.ked my head to one side and gave him my most saccharine smile. "Jealous much?"

He scoffed. "No reason to be. Cujo's not the one you're bound to."

"Evangeline said binding isn't about that. It isn't romantic."

"Doesn't have to be, if you want to get all technical 'bout it. Seems silly to fight it, though." He curled a lock of my hair around his finger, seemingly fascinated. "Look, Mouse. I ain't thrilled the man's hangin' around all the time, but he's low on my list right now. We got work to do."

Right. Work. Because this was a job. I moved back, and he let go of my hair. "What's next?"

"We need to find the rift where the Torrent will start. Figure out how to stop it. Then . . ." He shrugged. "Then we stop it."

CHAPTER 23.

I thought I was prepared to face Colin the next morning, but the swell of nerves and guilt when I heard his knock proved otherwise.

I checked the mirror one last time, half-expecting the events of the night before to be written across my face like on a billboard. Surely the binding would leave some visible trace, would let some of the sparkling feeling still thrumming beneath my skin reach the surface. As usual, I was wrong. The same old Mo peered out, more tired than usual, but otherwise nothing special.

"Mo!" Colin called. I heard the beep as he deactivated the alarm. "Come on!" There was a clear note of warning in his voice, and it wasn't because he was worried I'd be marked tardy.

I headed downstairs, hitching my bag over my shoulder and trying to look natural. "Almost ready."

"Late night," he commented, looking me over as I slipped on my Birks.

"I guess. Can I stay home?" And avoid this conversation, maybe? I'd spent most of the night wide-awake, worrying about what to tell Colin, and thinking-okay, obsessing-about Luc. Unfortunately, none of my tossing and turning had brought me closer to a plan. If Verity were alive, she would know what to do. And I wouldn't have to deal with any of it. I felt disloyal even thinking it, pushed the traitorous thought away.

Colin closed a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him fully. Unnerved by his scrutiny, I brushed at my skirt. "What?"

He shrugged, letting go. "You look . . . I don't know. Something."

I pulled my uniform blazer out of the coat closet. "Good something or bad something?"