Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) by Christine O'Neil Page A

words made my stomach heave, I didn’t take them back.
    And he didn’t let me go.
    “Go for it, Magpie. Hit me with your best shot.” He narrowed his eyes at me and squeezed my wrist tighter.
    I don’t know what happened next. Same as that night with Eric. One minute I was me. Frazzled but in control to some pathetic degree. In control enough not to try and kill someone. The next, I was like a wild animal, caged too long without food. With a snarl, a tiny part of the thing inside me broke loose and took. Like sucking in a breath, it drew the love from whatever I touched into me. Only this time, it was like trying to take from a brick wall. I could still feel Mac’s energy pulsing enticingly under his skin, but there was a very real block between us.
    I gasped, jerking my hand away and staring at it like it was a five-headed snake. The rage vacated in such a rush, it left me weak, and I thanked the gods I hadn’t hurt him.
    Hell, I wished I could take credit for that, but if I could have hurt him I would have, and that scared the hell out of me. He stared at me, totally alive, totally unharmed. In fact, he looked pretty self-satisfied and blasé about the whole thing.
    Suddenly, all the outside pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. I didn’t know the whole of it, but the perimeter was there. Mac Finnegan wasn’t just an annoying guy at all. He was something…other.
    Like me?
    “What are you?” I whispered.
    “That’s not important right now.” If possible, his tone had gotten even colder, and I shivered, still shocked and floundering. “We’re here to talk about you.”
    My mother’s warnings ran through my addled brain.
    Don’t tell anyone what you are. They won’t understand.
    And then, after I admitted I had already told Libby, Promise me you won’t tell anyone else. Ever. Your life could depend on it.
    Was that the case now? Eric hadn’t been what I would have called the most loving guy in the world and when I’d…“touched” him, it had been right there, at my fingertips. Love. For his dog, for his mom, for baseball. When I touched Mac? Nothing. Nada. Was he devoid of the emotion? Or worse? Flat-out, pure evil? Before I could decide whether to make a break for it and kick the door open or answer him, he spoke again.
    “I’ll save you the trouble and lay my cards on the table. You’re a semi-god and so am I.” He could’ve been a waiter at Applebee’s reciting the pasta special for all the emotion he displayed over that announcement. That didn’t stop my pulse from thumping so hard I thought my jugular was going to explode.
    “And I’ve been sent here to take care of that burden for you.” The polite smile was back, and I almost wanted to suggest a job in sales in my best, sarcastic voice.
    He sounded warmer now, kind, even, and that put me on edge more than anything else so far. Take care of that burden?
    “What are you talking about? And sent here by who?” I demanded.
    It took him long enough to answer that I knew he was picking and choosing what parts he wanted to tell me and what things he should keep to himself. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.
    “Have you heard of the Council of Amaranth?”
    Fuck. I’d heard of it, a little from my mom, more from my grandmother in her less lucid moments. None of it good. From what I could piece together, it was a sort of watchdog unit. They made sure the old laws of demi- and semi-gods were enforced and whatnot.
    Because my mother and grandmother had chosen to bind their powers, we didn’t have anything to do with them, the annual meetings or the semi-culture at all, but apparently, we were still on their radar. Which made sense. I hadn’t even come into my power for real yet, so they couldn’t just ignore my existence or assume that I would try to force my powers to go dormant, too.
    I nodded my head slowly. “Yes, I’ve heard of them. Very little, though.”
    A flicker of something passed over his face. Relief? Sadness? It was too