Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen)

by Christine O'Neil

  It. Was. Awesome. For one song, nobody was the weirdo or the outcast or the semi. For one perfect song, we were on even ground. Kids having a blast just dancing our butts off.

  I didn’t want it to stop. I felt so alive, so free and happy, but when I whipped it around so I faced Mac again, there was Ella, face drawn tight in annoyance.

  “I missed it,” she yelled, as the end of the song faded out and a slow song took its place. “Everyone was having fun, and I was waiting in line for the stupid bathroom.”

  Mac stepped back and smiled at her apologetically. “Sorry.” He held out his hand. “Come on, we’ll dance this one.”

  Her face lit up and the look she gave me was cat with a mouthful of canary. She ran fingers quickly through his hair, making it all neat again, before taking his hand. The last of the happiness puffed out of me and I stepped back, giving them both a flappy wave.

  “See you guys later!”

  The exclamation point was all up in that sentence. I sounded like the fucking Ducks mascot. I’d given myself five exclamation points lifetime max, and I only had two left to spare now. Damn Ella.

  Rafe came up behind me with a cup of punch. “You look thirsty.”

  I took it from him and drank it before wiping my hand across my mouth. “Let’s dance.”

  I didn’t give a shit anymore. Something had broken loose inside of me, and the thought of standing there in the corner watching Mac dance with Ella made me want to scream. He had to know he was hurting me, didn’t he? Time to see if I could hurt him back.

  Rafe and I moved to the outskirts of the dance floor, and it didn’t take much encouragement to get him to pull me close. His hands were busy, sliding over my waist, cupping my hips. I barely felt it. All I could feel was Mac’s eyes on me and the strange, trippy sensation that was taking hold of me.

  “How’d you like the punch?” Rafe asked, gripping my hip tighter to grind into me.

  I had a clear view of Mac a few feet away, and his jaw clenched. His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t say for sure on the hurt, but there was a copious amount of fury. Excellent.

  “The punch?” I asked, barely paying attention. “It was fine, why?”

  Rafe patted my ass and chuckled. “I added a little something special.” He grinded on me again, and this time I pulled away.

  “What do you mean?” It took a second to focus on his face, and then it hit me. This was what buzzed felt like. It wasn’t just the dancing or the adrenaline that had me feeling so loose and wild. He’d spiked my drink.

  “Jesus, Rafe, you could’ve asked,” I hissed, struggling against him. I didn’t have to struggle for long before a low voice broke in.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Mac stood over my shoulder, and I turned to face him. He towered over me and for the first time I kicked myself for not wearing heels. Whenever he stood next to me, I felt like there was some kind of measuring going on, and I always came up lacking.

  My alcohol-soaked brain ran off and a chuckle bubbled in my throat. Funny how, when we’d started training, it had been such a relief that he was so strong and I couldn’t affect him, but now that I was getting lost in him and he had the ability to hurt me, I was desperate for the same kind of power over him. It felt too uneven this way. He had the upper hand, and I was stuck with nada. Vulnerable. Like now.

  He didn’t seem to like me laughing, and his mouth twisted into a tight line. “Now.” His tone made my blood go cold, but the fear only made me madder.

  “I’m good, thanks,” I said, turning back to Rafe, but that didn’t go over well at all.

  Mac reached out and took my wrist, pulling me toward the exit. I yanked hard the other way, but he didn’t let go.

  Rafe had a weird smile on his face that, even to my altered mind, seemed out of place. He called after us, “Make sure you bring her back in one piece. I’m not done with her yet.”

  Okay, so ew and not cool. I owed him a serious bitching-out when we got back.

  Rather than fight Mac and cause a scene, I let him lead me the rest of the way out of the gym and into the empty hallway.

  “What the fuck was that?” he growled, wheeling on me, his face a mask of fury.

  “What? I was dancing.” I crossed my arms over my chest and met his gaze with a cold stare of my own. Why did he get to paw his girlfriend on the dance floor in front of me, but my dancing was a federal case? “What do you care, anyway?” I shot back, tossing my head back to glare up at him.

  “You don’t know what he is.” He shook his head slowly, the warning clear in his eyes.

  My brain hiccupped, and I had to replay the words in my mind before they registered. Not who. What. “Tell me you’re joking.” Another semi at Crestwood?

  “He’s bad news, and if you ignore everything I’ve ever told you, please at least pay attention to this. Stay clear of him.” The anger was still there, but the concern underneath it all had me paying attention.

  “How do you know?”

  “When I went home, I asked around. They felt like I had gone too soft on you when I first got here, so they sent him in as a backup just in case I didn’t follow through. That’s all I know so far, but something doesn’t feel right. Until I’ve got this figured out, I need you to stay away from him.”

  I considered his words and thought back to my interaction with Rafe. Rafe was a dick. Cocky, douchey, and he had spiked my drink, but surely he wasn’t flat-out evil. Maybe it was more that Mac felt about Rafe the way I felt about Ella? My power wriggled restlessly at the thought of her in his arms and I went from sharing Mac’s concern to majorly annoyed in three seconds flat.

  “How come you’re allowed to hang out with whoever you want but have made it your mission to kill my social life and won’t allow me to make a new friend? I haven’t even done anything wrong.” I tried to stop the rest of the words from tumbling out, but they wouldn’t be stopped. Spiked punch FTW. “Maybe you’re just jealous. Ever think of that?”

  The grin that twisted his lips was anything but happy, and I braced myself. It was about to get mean.

  “Jealous? Of what, Magpie? That your life is twelve kinds of fucked and you have no clue how to fix it? That you’re a couple weeks away from having your powers stripped and your memory wiped?”

  Ouch.

  “Fine. If that’s how you feel, then maybe I won’t bother. You can just take all the time you used to spend with me and spend it all with stupid Ella, since you like her so much. Maybe you guys can talk about One Direction and how if only Miley Cyrus was president, the world would be a better place.”

  I shoved him in the chest and went to leave but stopped when I realized I wasn’t quite done yet. I whirled back, ignoring the spinning room long enough to add, “And by the way? Your jacket is stupid. Your hair is stupid. Even your accent is stupid.”

  Burned.

  It didn’t matter how childish it was—the words were liberating, and I gave myself a mental high five. Until he grabbed my arm and dragged me to him, real close. Close enough to feel his breath on my face. It was warm and smelled like spearmint gum. I swallowed hard when I met his stormy gaze.

  He was furious. Like balls-out, totally frigging pissed.

  I’d finally gotten him to snap. Finally affected him as much as he’d affected me. The sadistic, drunk part of me crowed even as the smarter part of me cringed.

  “You know what’s stupid, Maggie? This discussion. And you know what’s even stupider? You thinking that I want to do any of this. Hang around at your high school, taking lessons on things I learned when I was ten, going to dances with girls who think Snooki is a role model. I didn’t ask for any of it. I’m from a line of Protectors. A line that serves with honor, and here I am, beating my head against a wall trying to teach a hotheaded, spoiled child how to keep from killing anyone.” The breath sawed in and out of his lungs as his anger flamed high enough that I could feel it pouring off him. I tried to step back, but he countered, stepping forward.

 
Protector? Is that what his job was? To protect me? Funny, for weeks now, I’d felt like an open wound. “Listen, let’s take a minute and calm down—”

  His laugh was short and harsh. “Now you want to calm down? You spend all night needling me until I have not an ounce of fucking calm left in me, and now you want me to calm down?”

  I opened my mouth to confirm that, yes, it would be a good start, but all that came out was a loud hiccup.

  His eyes went wide before they narrowed into icy slits. “You’ve been drinking,” he said flatly.

  It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t deny it or even explain. He’d broken my heart into a thousand pieces tonight. Fuck him. I didn’t owe him anything.

  He stepped in and I stepped back, but he was relentless, pushing me backward until I was pressed against a row of lockers. Then he bent low until we were nose to nose. “I wondered why you’d done it. Did you even notice everyone following you and your moves? Did you see all the guys in the room watching you?”

  He was jealous. That shouldn’t have made me ecstatic, but it sort of did. “Rafe was watching me, but other than th—”

  “No!” He punched the locker behind me, and I winced. “Not just Rafe. Fucking everyone. Because you were throwing off sparks of power like a bloody disco ball and those kids were all just a bunch of moths, wanting to be close to you.”

  I shook my head, because it wasn’t computing. “Wait, what?”

  “I told you not to drink, and you didn’t listen. Jesus, Maggie, someone could get hurt. I thought you had a shot,” he muttered.

  That last sentence computed just fine and made my stomach pitch. He was giving up on me. “Mac…”

  I touched his chest, and he grabbed my wrist, his gaze hot on mine. My heart leapt into my throat, and I barely heard his muttered, “Fuck it,” before he slanted his mouth over mine.

  I didn’t hesitate for a second. The thought of him leaving me…giving up on me made me frantic. I jerked my arm away from his grasp and plastered myself against him. When that wasn’t close enough, I pressed harder. His mouth was molten hot and his lips devoured mine. It wasn’t neat, it wasn’t pretty, but it was everything. Giving. Taking. Crushing.

  His hand slid lower to grip my butt, lifting me up until his hips thrust against mine. God, it felt good. The power inside me rose and burned like a rising sun in my belly. I tried to focus but couldn’t hold it in, hitting Mac with a blast. He didn’t stop, kneading my bottom in his big hands, pushing back with his own power that I sucked up like a flower. A memory teased at me, and I latched on.

  The smell of cinnamon filled my senses. Mac was leaning in close to the slight girl standing in front of him. She was warm, her back pressed to his chest. He was supposed to be helping her, for fuck’s sake, not smelling her hair. She wasn’t meant for him. He wasn’t even supposed to befriend her, never mind this. Jesus, could she hear his heart beating? The urge to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her tighter against him…to slide his hands around the front of her hot body was so strong, he barely resisted. How many times had he lain awake thinking of her and that flash of flat, lickable stomach when she’d lifted her arms? Grinding, awful, amazing torture.

  Not for you, Cormac. She’s not for you. An alarm blared and—

  The memory was ripped away so fast, it felt like a slap, and Mac wasn’t far behind. One second he was there, his mouth smashed against mine, and the next he was two feet away from me, gasping for breath.

  I slumped against the cool metal of the lockers, still reeling from his kiss…from his memory. Of me. Of us, the night we’d broken into the school.

  “That shit you just pulled,” he whispered, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “That’s why you can’t be around people. That would’ve killed anyone but me.” He closed his eyes and even the grim set of his jaw didn’t prepare me for his next words. “And I don’t want any part of it. Or you. I don’t trust Rafe. I’ll contact the Council tomorrow and request they send another replacement for me to finish these last two weeks. Fly on home, Magpie. Before you hurt anyone else.”

  I leapt forward and shoved him hard enough that he stepped back to catch his balance, and then I ran. If I could’ve flown, I would have, because never in my life had I needed to get away from someone so badly.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It took me twenty minutes to get myself together enough so I could leave the bathroom and stumble back into the gym, but I did it. I had just managed to plaster a phony smile on my face when Bink came over.

  “Hey.” He looked around in confusion. “I came to dance with you guys. Libby said you were all kicking it earlier.” He looked over my shoulder and sent me a questioning glance. “What happened to Fake Gyllenhaal?”

  I forced a chuckle, but only because he expected it. “Probably with his date.”

  His blue gaze narrowed on my face, searching. “Yeah?”

  Shit. He had figured out how I felt about Mac. I guess a lifetime of friendship will do that. Inconvenient sometimes, though.

  “Yeah. And I don’t care, okay?” I crossed my arms and glared at him, but he kept his eyes locked on mine. I steeled myself, prepping for yet another argument, but he let me off the hook.

  “Okay. How about we go take care of some of this Jack Daniel’s, then? We can hang by the bleachers and get some air.”

  He was peering over my shoulder and seemed to be in a rush, so I knew something was up. I ducked around him to see, and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  Ella and Mac were snuggled up tight, swaying slowly to a Ne-Yo song. Her hand was buried in his hair and her head was tucked against his broad shoulder. The smile on her face was nauseating. She looked like a kid dreaming of Disney World and houses made of fudge, and I wondered briefly if that’s what I would look like if Mac had asked me to slow dance. I hoped not. She looked like a fucking idiot.

  They turned and he looked up, meeting my gaze. He was totally…blank. Like he was looking into the face of a stranger.

  I jammed my arm through Bink’s, linking us together chicken wing–style, and grinned. “Sounds like an excellent plan. I think Jack and I are going to get along just fine.”

  My mind was whirling like a ballerina, and I needed to get off this ride for a while and just not think. If I didn’t get out of there…if I didn’t stop thinking about what he’d said, what we’d done…if I didn’t wash the picture of him and Ella dancing out of my head, I’d go crazy. I’d have a drink with Bink outside, Libby could drive us home after the dance, and I’d go pass out in my bed alone where I couldn’t hurt anyone.

  I all but dragged him to the exit, and we slipped out, glancing around to make sure we weren’t spotted.

  The night was unseasonably warm and had cleared up, and the stars were bright. Still, it was New Hampshire, and I shivered.

  “Here,” he murmured and pulled away, slipping his arm from mine to take off his jacket. “Wear this, too. Yours isn’t enough to keep a gerbil warm.”

  I tugged it tighter around my shoulders, breathing in the smell of Axe body spray that I hated but that comforted me because it reminded me of Bink.

  “Thanks.”

  “I texted Libby, and she’s meeting us under the bleachers, too. I don’t think I’m going to go back inside. No point, really. There’re no good single chicks. Even Libby is bored.” He looked away as he said the last bit, like he was hiding something, and I wondered if he had actually been hooking up with some chick when I pulled him away. I almost told him to go on back inside, but I decided to play the shitty friend card and stay silent.

  The thought of not having to go back in there at all was beyond thrilling, and I wanted to cry with relief. Instead, I leaned farther into him, and we crunched across the icy blades of grass that covered the length of the football field until we reached the bleachers. He sat and patted the space next to him, and the aluminum made a hollow ringing sound. I wondered if this place was less depressing filled with screaming fans or if it was just my mood that made
the whole thing feel sad.

  “Is this your first time doing this?” Bink asked.

  Not counting tonight, unintentionally? But I didn’t say that, because he would have wanted to go back to the dance and kick Rafe’s ass. Instead, I nodded and sat, gasping at the cold seeping through my skirt. “Drinking? You know it is. Unless you count that time with the wine coolers.”

  “Which I don’t,” we both said at the same time and then laughed.

  “No, actually. I meant your first time on these bleachers.”

  I thought about it for a few seconds before my still muzzy brain supplied the answer. It was my first time. I had managed to avoid them for two years of high school so far, which was a pretty impressive feat if I did say so myself.

  “Yup. And they’re at least five times less comfortable than they look, so that’s something.”

  He nudged my shoulder with his. The weight that had been pressing against my chest like a piece of granite lightened a little, and I settled into the seat more deeply.

  Okay, so maybe the dance had been sucky, but I was with Bink now, and Libby was on her way. Soon I’d be home and conked out. Eventually, maybe I’d even forget this whole night ever happened.

  Besides, Mac and I were nothing but problems together. And a lot of what I felt for him was probably tied up in the joy of finding someone like me. Someone…other.

  He knew what it was like to be weird and all screwed up inside and have things totally out of control. It was an outlet for me to be able to be myself around someone. Briefly, my tipsy brain sent me a prompt to tell Bink about him. About me. About what we were and what we could do. But something made me hold my tongue at the last second and instead I stared blankly at the wide, darkened scoreboard. Had it just been a couple weeks ago that I’d started tallying points between Mac and me? I should have known from the start this game was going to be a blowout.