Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) by Christine O'Neil Read Free Book Online Page B

a cross hammered into it, and a class ring. It was the last that set my heart racing and my palms tingling in an all too familiar way.
    Want.
    I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, but the lure was so strong, my knees nearly buckled.
    Want.
    My lids flicked open and the need to fight it—that twinge of conscience that always came first—dissipated. After days of battling myself internally for control, it all became too much, and I wanted… needed this. I was in full-on hunt mode. An apex predator through and through, and there was no place for guilt.
    For now.
    I’d feel sick later, but it was better than what would happen if I didn’t feed the need. So much better.
    Mr. Foster spoke, but his words didn’t register over the euphoric buzzing in my head. I watched as Summer patted her hands dry on the industrial brown paper towels she’d torn off the roll and chatted with a friend at the table behind her.
    Walk away. Walk away.
    The chant that started out as a mental plea aimed at Summer morphed into a command. A command from the brain of the world’s worst hypnotist. Color me shocked when she did it. Summer Bochino walked away, chattering to her tablemates, her little pile of treasures forgotten. I wet my suddenly sandpaper-dry lips and attempted to keep calm. To think clearly, but I was lost to the need.
    I made a show of rifling through the magazines and pictures in front of me, stopping every so often like I’d found something I was considering, but the gaze trained on the countertop was unseeing. I was biding my time.
    It was a huge risk. She could realize her mistake any second and my chance would be lost. The thought of it almost made me throw caution aside and leap toward the sink like Sméagol after his preciousss, but no good would come of that and my chances of getting what I needed would be obliterated. Another minute ticked by, and no one else approached the sink.
    Now .
    Heart pounding, I set the papers aside, clutching a small sheaf in my trembling hand. I cleared my throat to alleviate the choking sensation and sidled super casual-like to the sink. Once I was there, I was almost giddy. Home free, really. Because this part I was good at. When you take things that aren’t yours on the regular, you get pretty good at it fairly quick. And after months of what I had so creatively dubbed “collecting,” I think I could give The Artful Dodger a run for his money.
    It was done in a flash. One second, three sparkling rings sat on the scarred Formica. The next, only two.
    The euphoria I felt when I nabbed it was the closest thing I’d felt to joy since the change had started. The band of gold burned against my hip, a living thing in my pocket, and the power of it rocked me. I closed my eyes and let it fill me to the brim. Voices penetrated my glow, and I realized I needed to get moving. I slunk back the way I’d come and sat back in my seat.
    I was still waiting for my pulse to stop kicking when a shadow fell across the table.
    “Get everything you need, then, Magpie?”
    I shouldn’t have worried about my pulse beating too hard because those words—spoken in the musical lilt of Ireland—made it stop altogether. Sure, he could be checking up on my project and if I’d gotten enough clippings to add to it. And sure, he could just be breaking my balls for shits and giggles. But he’d called me Magpie. Not Maggie, or even Mags or Raynard. But Magpie? WTF? A type of bird, I thought…
    I shrugged noncommittally and focused so hard on my project I could feel a vein throb in my forehead. He stood there for what seemed like another full minute before he finally turned and walked away. The second he did, I tugged out my phone and peered at it under the table. I tapped out the letters into Google and waited while it loaded. Please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t let him have seen—
    The word popped up with a list of definitions, but my eyes were instantly drawn to the only one that