Torn. Part 25

"Where did you think I lived?"

"I don't know. The truck, maybe? The Batcave? This is supernice." Nicer than I would have guessed, considering the state of Colin's truck. I'd always a.s.sumed he was barely sc.r.a.ping by, but I was wrong. Why was he hiding it, then? What else was he hiding?

"Glad you like it. I'll be back in a little while. Stay put."

"You're leaving?"

"I need to talk to your uncle."

"Take me with you!"

"If I knew who I could trust, I would. This is the safest place to keep you. Only a few people know about it, and I trust them."

"Uncle Billy?"

He paused. "Yeah."

Uncle Billy didn't seem particularly trustworthy to me right now, but I was willing to take Colin's word. Fear, I was discovering, had a way of crystallizing things. It might not make your decisions easier, but it made them sharper. And faster.

"Help yourself to the food. Study for your test. Watch TV if you want," he added, jerking a thumb at a black lacquered cabinet. "Mo, for once in your life, do what I tell you. You are in eighteen different kinds of s.h.i.+t right now, and that doesn't even count you playing Nancy Drew. Which I haven't forgotten about, by the way."

If he'd told me to stay out of anger, I would have pushed him more. But there was none of that in his face, only gravity and concern, so I sat down on the couch, folding my shaking legs underneath me and tucking my skirt around my knees. "You're worried."

"I didn't expect them to go around Billy," he said. "I thought they'd let him handle you."

"Well, he thought you'd handle me. Look at how that's turned out."

"You have a point. Now, stay put."

And so I stayed. There was nothing on TV, I wasn't hungry, and there was no way I could focus on atomic ma.s.ses and isotopes. Instead, I wore a path into the faded navy and maroon rug, turning over the ring in my hand, wondering how much danger Colin was in because of me. The thought only made me walk faster.

When my phone rang, I dove over the back of the couch to reach it.

"Congratulations on the binding," Evangeline said, her voice a few degrees warmer than usual. "You did quite nicely."

"You seemed surprised that it worked."

"Wis.h.i.+ng for something and seeing that wish actualized are decidedly different things," she replied. "I'm intrigued by the possibilities."

I rolled my eyes, then stopped. What if she could see me? I was tired of not understanding how things worked-in magic and in life. "This is kind of a bad time, Evangeline. Can I call you later?"

Her voice frosted over again. "I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience, Mo. But I thought you'd be interested in what I've learned about our next step."

I pressed my fingers against my eyelids. "Okay."

"Do you have the ring with you?"

"Of course. Always."

"Excellent. We've located a group of lines that have grown unstable. We believe the ring will allow you, with Lucien's help, to reinforce them."

"That's a good thing, right?"

Her voice was more enthusiastic than I'd ever heard. "If you can do this, we may be able to circ.u.mvent the Torrent completely."

"Like preventative maintenance?" It sounded almost too easy, but with everything cras.h.i.+ng down at once, easy held an undeniable appeal.

"Exactly. Lucien will come for you this evening. The sooner we can attempt this, the better."

CHAPTER 24.

Colin came back two hours later, slamming into the room with poorly contained rage. He set the alarm, his movements furious and precise, and stowed his gun in a locked metal cabinet. Thumping down in the cracked leather recliner, he eyed me warily.

"What happened?" I closed the copy of Hemingway stories I'd found on the bookshelves. "Did you talk to Uncle Billy? Is my mom okay?"

"Your mom's fine." He drummed his fingers on the armrest, then leaned forward, like he'd suddenly decided something. "How much do you know about your uncle's business?"

I lifted a shoulder, an icy blackness welling up inside me. "I've heard the rumors. Until Verity died, I a.s.sumed that's all they were. G.o.d forbid someone in my family actually tell me the truth."

"They're trying to protect you."

I recalled Luc's words after the Darkling attack. "He runs the neighborhood for the Outfit, right? All the protection and the money, they go through him. He keeps the peace and makes a profit."

He looked down at the floor. "Close enough."

"You work for him," I said, fitting it together, feeling slow and stupid when the pieces finally clicked. "You work for the Mob."

"Right now, I work for Billy, watching you. That's it." His voice was tired, but I was too angry to feel sorry for him.

"What about the carpentry?"

"You could say I have a versatile skill set."

I shoved my fists into the pockets of my blazer. "Absolutely! Handy with a gun and a belt sander. You're a regular Renaissance man, aren't you?" I was mortified by my own naivete, at how willingly I believed the stories everyone had fed me. "You're as big a liar as he is."

He scrubbed a hand over his hair. "Don't start, kid. You want to judge me, wait until you've got all the facts."

I ground my teeth together. "I don't have any facts. Because no one will tell me anything. Do you know how frustrating that is?"

"I've got a pretty good idea. How's the boyfriend, Mo? You know, the one you don't have?" The anger in his voice was like knives. "You're keeping as many dirty little secrets as anyone, so knock it off with the righteous outrage c.r.a.p."

He had a better point than he realized. I sat back, chastened. He pinned me with a glare and went on. "Yes, Billy works for the Outfit. He's survived as long as he has because he's smart-he doesn't get greedy, he doesn't overreach. It's worked out pretty well, but now there are new players on the scene."

"The Russians."

He pushed out of the chair and headed toward the kitchen. "They're not just coming after Billy. They're coming after the entire organization, and they're bad, bad news. They make the Mob look like a bunch of little old ladies on Bingo night. They're looking to get a foothold here, in Billy's territory."

I trailed after him. "If I identify them as the guys who killed Verity . . ."

"It helps Billy and his people keep hold of the power."

It always came down to who had the power, didn't it?

"Tell me about my dad."

He turned away, opening and closing cabinets at random. "I wasn't around then."

"But you know. I know you know." I stepped in front of him, needing to see the truth.

He crossed his arms, mouth tight.

"It was my uncle, wasn't it? My dad was innocent. Uncle Billy set him up." I exhaled, a sudden lightness seeping through the dark and rage, and a sense that maybe I could be free.

And then I caught sight of Colin's expression, pitying, so regretful.

"It wasn't a setup," he said. He pushed away from the counter, pacing again, worry and frustration swirling darkly around him.

"But . . ."

He paused and met my eyes. Whatever lies I'd been told, Colin was being straight with me. "Your dad knew what he was doing."

I started to demand more details, but he held up a hand. "No. It's not my place. This is between you and your folks and Billy. I've already said more than I should."

"But-"

"I don't want this between us," he said. "And you have bigger problems than your family history right now, Mo. You need to make a decision about the ID."

Like I cared about the ID, after everything he'd just said. But if Colin thought it was a problem, it was. I dropped into the kitchen chair. "Do you think I should do it?"

"No way I'm answering that," he said grimly. "Whatever you decide, I'll back you up. But we can't put it off any longer."

Hearing him say "we" was a comfort, and I was suddenly ashamed of my behavior. He'd done nothing but try to protect me, from my uncle as much as anyone else, and all I'd done was lie. I caught his sleeve. "What I said before . . . I'm sorry. It doesn't matter who you work for. You're a good person. You're probably the best person I know."

He ran a hand roughly over my hair. "You need to meet more people, kid."

Elsa the Lawyer was at the station when we arrived, conferring with Billy. Kowalski glowered at the two of them and transferred the frown to Colin and me.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Elsa stepped in. "You asked us to produce her for the lineup, Detective. We arrived early, as a courtesy. Now you're complaining she's here?"

"As much money as that school sets you back, I'd think you'd want her in cla.s.s, that's all," he grumbled, hauling open a metal door. The eye-level window was covered with a piece of cardboard. "In here, Mo. It won't take long."

Colin and Billy both moved to follow me, but Kowalski held up a hand. "Just the lawyer, boys," he said. "You can wait out here."

"A word with my niece, Detective." Uncle Billy drew me aside, patting my hand. "Now, Mo, I am sorry about what happened earlier. It was inexcusable, my a.s.sociates frightening you that way, but it just goes to show how important this is."

He'd done this to me a thousand times before, laying on the charm and understanding, right before he laid down the law. It had always worked, too, so who could blame him for going with the same old tactics? But I wasn't that quiet, biddable girl anymore. I had seen too much, and now I could see him for what he was-no longer my affable Uncle Billy, but a liar and a criminal and the root of my family's shame. My hands curled into fists.

He continued on blithely. "There's two men in there, with the markings we discussed earlier. Kowalski will ask if any of them were in the alley, and you will tell him about those two men."

"Lie, you mean." My voice was thin and nasty.

His grip tightened on my arm for a split second. "The alley was black as pitch. Who's to say it wasn't them?"

"I am."

Kowalski ushered me into the room, Elsa close behind. I could feel Colin's eyes on me as he leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

Kowalski shut the door with a tug and a thud, Billy's outraged face disappearing behind an inch and a half of steel. The room was tiny, just big enough to fit a countertop with a phone and three scarred plastic chairs. Above the countertop was a window the width of the room. Kowalski waved at the chairs and laid a thick file folder on the counter. "Take a seat, if you want. It's pretty simple, Mo. Six guys, in a line. You see if you recognize anybody. I can make them talk, if you need to hear their voices, or make them come up to the window, if you want a closer look. Take your time, look at all the faces. There's no rush."

He sat and made some notations on a piece of paper. "Just gimme a minute," he muttered. "d.a.m.n paperwork's gonna be the death of me."

Elsa murmured, "Is there anything I should know about? Has anything changed?"

Only everything. "No. Just nervous," I said. She smiled encouragingly.

"They can't see you," Kowalski said, overhearing me. He picked up the phone. "Send 'em in." They walked in, all six men with blunt faces and cold eyes. I spotted the two my uncle was after almost immediately. They stuck out from the others even without the advance warning. Their eyes weren't merely cold, but dead. I shuddered involuntarily. Maybe Billy had a point.

"Step forward," Kowalski said into the phone. "Anybody look familiar, Mo?"

You didn't need magic to sense the evil coming off of these two. Billy had betrayed me, but I had to wonder, would it be so bad to get them off the street? It was my neighborhood they were moving in on. Houses I'd trick-or-treated at, customers I'd been waiting on at The Slice since I could see over the counter. They wanted to come in and rip through the fabric of my everyday life, when Verity's death had already left it in tatters. I could still go after the Seraphim. What was the harm in protecting the people around me?

"Can you make number two show me his tattoo? The one on his chest?"

"You didn't mention a tattoo in your description," he said, squinting at me and back at the pile of papers.

"It's possible seeing the perpetrators has triggered her memory," Elsa cut in smoothly, and Kowalski muttered into the phone again. A moment later, without a hint of surprise or emotion, Guy Number Two shucked off his grease-streaked s.h.i.+rt to reveal a badly inked blue rose.

"Does that help?"

I made a noncommittal noise, and Kowalski eyed me suspiciously.

"What about number five?" I asked.

"You want him to take off his s.h.i.+rt, too?"

"He can just roll up his sleeve."

The burn scar was the size of an apricot, s.h.i.+ny and pink, long-healed. My own scar throbbed at the sight of it, and I pressed my hands against my thighs.