Forbidden

twenty-eight

It’s okay, Claire told herself. He’s Alec’s godfather. He’s going to help you. But for some reason, her stomach refused to unknot. When she saw Alec step into view and caught the miserable look on his face, all hope died within her. He was still wearing the same clothes as last night and looked as if he hadn’t slept at all.
“Claire.” Alec motioned toward the tall man beside him. “This is Vincent.”
“Do come in,” Vincent commanded.
Claire stared at them silently, her heart beating with trepidation. Alec’s eyes were full of pain and regret. Why? He’d vowed to reason with Vincent, to convince him to leave them both alone. Clearly, he must have failed. Which meant that coming any closer to Vincent could be signing her own death warrant.
Claire took two steps back. “No, I—I think I should go.”
Vincent’s smile widened. “Young lady, you seem nervous. Trust me, you have nothing to fear.”
“It’s okay, Claire,” Alec said quietly. “He’s telling the truth. We’ve come to an … agreement.”
Agreement? Claire thought. What kind of agreement? If Alec had succeeded in securing their safety, then why did he look so upset? “I shouldn’t have come. It’s late. I really have to go.”
“Go where?” Vincent said quizzically.
Suddenly, there was a loud rumble and the concrete at her feet began to crack and fall away, creating a tremendous fissure on three sides of her. Claire screamed as she watched the destruction ripple outward, obliterating everything in its wake. She was left on the very edge of a precipice, hanging over an endless, deep chasm that rivaled the Grand Canyon. The city was gone. Gone. Only one structure remained standing: the single room of Alec’s apartment, which glowed brightly before her.
Panicked, she stumbled backward and teetered over the abyss, still screaming.
“Vincent!” Alec cried, infuriated.
Vincent’s hand shot out and grabbed Claire’s arm, pulling her to safety inside the apartment. “Shhhhh,” he admonished, “you’ll wake the neighbors.”
As Claire yanked her arm from Vincent’s grasp, she turned and saw, through the open doorway, that the world outside had magically been restored to its natural state. She gasped, reeling in confusion as her brain processed this rapid distortion of visual cues.
“Was that really necessary?” Alec crossed his arms in annoyance.
Vincent closed the door and leaned his lanky frame back against it, looking down at Claire with a mischievous chuckle. “I figured it was the most efficient way to get her into the room.”
Alec turned to Claire. “I’m sorry. He was just playing with your mind. Are you all right?”
Claire shook her head slowly, struggling to recover her basic faculties. She realized that the physical world hadn’t changed, that the chaos she’d just witnessed had simply been a series of images projected by Vincent—that she’d been standing on Alec’s doorstep the whole time. But she couldn’t stop trembling. She looked at Alec, wishing he would take her in his arms. Last night, he would have done so in an instant. He would have held her and reassured her that she was okay, that they were okay. But Alec was still standing several feet away, and made no move to come closer.
“I’m sorry,” Alec said again.
What was he apologizing for? Vincent’s terrifying illusion? For not calling her today? Or—for something far worse?
“You know,” Vincent asserted, gazing at her but still talking to Alec, “although unexpected, it’s actually fortuitous that she’s here, since we all sorely need to have a little chat.”
Claire swallowed hard, backing away from Vincent again, this time farther into the room. Every instinct told her to fear this man, that she wasn’t going to like whatever he said. “A chat?” she said uncertainly. “About what?”
Before she could blink, the studio apartment around them disappeared. Suddenly they were inside an elegant restaurant atop a skyscraper. A tuxedoed waiter stood beside a round, candlelit, linen-draped table, set with china, silver, and crystal for three. Through huge plate-glass windows, stars glimmered in the night sky, and the lights of a city sparkled all around them.
Claire gasped, so startled that she had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.
“Stop it, Vincent,” Alec said, exasperated.
“Stop what? You know how I feel about your spartan accommodations. There’s barely seating for two, let alone three. We’ll be far more comfortable here.” Vincent gestured toward a waiting chair. “Please have a seat, Ms. Brennan.”
Claire glanced at Alec, wondering if she had any choice. Alec gave her a silent nod to go along with it, then flicked his gaze away. Reluctantly, she sat. What did Vincent want?
Vincent took the seat across from her, while Alec begrudgingly sank into the third chair. The waiter picked up a tall bottle of sparkling water and poured glasses for Claire and Alec. When he tipped the bottle over Vincent’s goblet, the liquid changed to a rich red wine.
“Thank you,” Vincent said. As he uttered the words, the waiter and the bottle vanished.
Claire caught her breath. She felt as if she were stuck in some kind of dreamworld—and she was a bundle of nerves. If she wanted to leave, she didn’t even know where the door was. What would happen if she drank the water? Unable to resist the impulse, she grabbed her glass and took a sip. It felt and tasted just like it should, though it didn’t quench her thirst. This is so weird, she thought, twisting her hands anxiously in her lap. When she glanced at Alec, he looked both angry and uncomfortable.
“So,” Vincent began, swirling his wine and sniffing it. “We have a situation here.”
Claire’s stomach clenched again. “A situation?”
“Yes. And apparently it’s up to me to control it.”
“This is not the way I wanted it, Claire,” Alec interjected tensely.
“But it’s necessary.” Vincent took a sip of his wine. “As I told Alec last night, it was one thing when he asked me to keep quiet about his high school escapades to the higher-ups. It’s quite another to expect me to ignore those escapades when—as it turns out—they break every cardinal rule in existence.” His gaze fell on Claire as he added, “Consorting with a human or typical Nephila would be bad enough, when you consider the ramifications of breeding together—”
Claire’s face grew hot. Did he actually just say breeding?
“—but consorting with a Halfblood is another matter entirely. And now that I’ve found you, it’s not easy to look the other way.”
“Why? Why do you care so much about me?” Claire asked. “So I’m a Halfblood, big deal. I’m not going to hurt anybody.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong, my dear. In truth, you are a ticking time bomb that might bring us all to war some day.”
“War?” Claire stared at Vincent, astonished. “Me? War with whom?”
“The Fallen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Allow me to enlighten you,” Vincent said patiently. “The Nephilim outnumber us astronomically, and too many are joining the Fallen. You’ve already inherited your father’s gift of true sight—which, in and of itself, is enough to make you incredibly valuable to those who hate our kind. But your genes may also be hiding the other half of your father’s talents.”
“What other talent? What could the Grigori find so threatening?”
Vincent rewarded her with a Cheshire grin. “That would be telling. If you knew, you would start looking for signs of it and be tempted to explore it. But rest assured, you are a threat. In time, you could become stronger and more dangerous than anything we have faced in millennia.”
“There have to be other Grigori out there who have this power,” Claire argued.
“That’s not the point. You’re a Halfblood. Whatever powers you possess, you are closer to a Grigori in strength than anyone else on the planet—but you have the weak constitution of your fellow Nephilim. Regardless of any attempts you may make to resist, the Fallen will go to any length to recruit you to their side of the board.”
“This isn’t chess!” Claire retorted hotly. “I’m not a pawn to be manipulated!”
“No, quite right,” Vincent agreed. “You are a queen. But we can never be certain where your allegiance will lie. If the natural order of things prevails, as it usually does, you may choose to side with them.”
Claire’s heart sank, her stomach churning violently now, and she felt the hot threat of tears. She summoned her strength. “So … what are you going to do? Turn me in to your hangman committee? Have me executed?”
“That’s what I should do.” Vincent finished off his wine and sighed. “But Alec has begged me to reconsider. It seems you’ve become so important to him, he’s willing to put many lives at risk. So we’ve made a deal.”
“What kind of … deal?” Claire’s voice quaked.
“I’m going to grant Alec’s wish. I’ll report back to the Elders with a lie. I’ll say that you’ve been found but are not a threat of any kind. Of course, I’ll stay to watch over you, to ensure that you do indeed steer clear of the Fallen and don’t misuse your gifts. But as long as you comply, I’ll see to it that no Elder lays a hand on you or your mother.”
Claire glanced at Alec, confused. That was good news, wasn’t it? It was exactly what she and Alec had been praying for. So why wouldn’t he look her in the eye?
The answer to Claire’s silent query came to her in a flash. The dread that had been building inside her rose to her throat, nearly choking her. “You’ll do this … in return for what? If you let me go, what happens to Alec?”
“Alec will come back to work, where he belongs,” Vincent replied. “I’ll smooth things over with the Elders. Don’t worry, they won’t exile or execute him.”
“Execute him?” Claire cried in horror.
Vincent glanced at Alec, amused. “Oh, I guess you didn’t tell her everything after all.” Facing Claire again, he continued, “Yes, the penalties for leaving the fold are severe. But if I take responsibility for him for a while, he’ll be back in their good graces in no time. And he will never see you again.”