A Matter of Fate Page 10

He presses his palms against his eyes. “She’s in excellent hands, Carregreen. There is a Guard team set up to oversee her case.”

  “Case?”

  Okay, now he’s had enough. He holds out a hand and when she tries to speak. “Shut up and listen, will you? I need to get these rules out so we can get back to California.”

  Cora doesn’t need him to strangle her. She’s doing a pretty good job of looking like she’s being strangled herself.

  “As I was saying, the first rule will be that you, Chloe, will no longer be allowed to drive yourself anywhere without me present.”

  I stare up at him, agog.

  “The majority of the attacks have occurred while a Magical was alone. A car does not offer protection. I’ll be taking you to and from school. You will be no longer allowed to participate in after-school activities. I’m told you’re involved in cheerleading—sorry, that’s no longer allowed.”

  Rainbows explode around me. “Are you saying I’m off the cheer team?”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, but I stand up and scream as loud as I can.

  “Is this not the BEST DAY EVER?”

  “I guess there’s a perk to death threats after all,” Cora muses.

  Karl’s righteousness deflates some. “You’re not upset?”

  “Hell no.” I happily drop back on the couch. “This is awesome.”

  “Okaaay,” he drawls slowly. “Um, well . . . you’ll be expected to meet me within a reasonable time after the last school bell on a daily basis. I’ll need you to keep your cell phone on at all times in order for me to reach you and vice versa.”

  Still focused on how I no longer have to cheer, I cheerfully accept this as Karl turns to Cora.

  “Carregreen, we’re still working out whether or not I’ll be taking you to and from school.”

  “Whatever for?” she demands.

  “Because it was ordered, that’s why. And because you’re under my watch, too—albeit in a much-reduced capacity.”

  “Why?” she asks, jerking her back straight. “I get Chloe needing the cover and all, but I’m small fish, not even Council bound!”

  “Because it was ordered,” he repeats through clenched teeth. And then, before she can argue, he adds, “Many extracurricular activities will no longer be allowed. This includes parties I cannot get into—”

  Wait—

  “Going out to restaurants without me—”

  Wait a—

  “Dates I can’t follow along on—”

  “You’d go on a date with her?” Cora asks. “What are you, a voyeur?”

  His mouth snaps shut as his eyes begin to bug out.

  “It’s creepy,” she continues, unperturbed. “How’d you like to go out on a date with some beefy bodyguard watching you?”

  As if he didn’t know which part to be insulted by, he manages to say, “I’m . . . I’m married.”

  “Even creepier,” she points out.

  “Cora, stop,” I hiss when Karl turns a really ugly shade of red.

  “I’m just saying,” she whispers back, as if Karl can’t hear her easily, “how are you going to get things resolved with—”

  “AHEM.” Karl’s fists clench at his sides. “May I finish?” When we nod, he says, “If you need to go somewhere after school, it’ll be with me. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go and stay with you. This includes shopping, eating, going to the beach . . . If anyone non asks you who I am, you’re to tell them that I’m a relative who’s staying with you. Under no circumstances are you to tell people that I’m there to watch you.”

  “This shouldn’t be a problem, considering she won’t ever be allowed to see anyone again,” Cora mutters.

  “Cora, please!” I yell. “This isn’t helping!” They both stare at me. “I get the situation sucks,” I continue. “And it does. I’m not looking forward to being babysat. I can take care of myself, despite what most people think. But I’m also not keen on dying.”

  “I know you can take care of yourself,” Cora says softly. “Even if this jackass doesn’t.”

  “Hey now,” Karl says, but I hold out a hand.

  “I get why the Council is worried, so I want to work with you. I just . . . I can’t let you smother me, though.”

  He sighs. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not overly thrilled about being away from my wife for so long, either.”

  “She a cougar?” Cora asks.

  Karl stares at her, mouth open.

  “I’m just saying,” she says defensively. “He looks like the sort to snag a cougar.”

  She did not just say that. “Cora!”

  “My wife is off limits to you.” He shakes a finger at her. And then, after a moment, “She’s not a cougar.”

  Cora cackles brightly.

  His focus returns to me. “I know this seems unfair in many ways. But, you need to understand the seriousness of the situation. The Council feels very . . . certain, if you will, that you could be a target.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I murmur. “Creator. Council bound. Got it.”

  “And Cora, as for why you’ll be watched,” he continues, “sometimes the people closest to the targets have become victims. You won’t be as guarded nearly as closely as Chloe, but anytime you’re with her, you’ll be expected to follow all the aforementioned rules. Is that clear?”

  “Fine,” she grumbles.

  “What about my other Cousins?” I ask.

  “Cousins? You mean . . . the other Magicals you associate with?” I nod, and he continues, “No one sees them as questionable targets.” Karl digs a piece of paper out of his pocket. “You have . . . three additional Magical friends in the area?”

  “You are well-informed, sir,” Cora answers.

  A thin band of gold on his left hand catches my eye. “Do you need to go say goodbye to your wife?”

  “No,” he says quietly. “We already did that this morning.”

  “Can’t they get someone else?”

  “I’m more than capable of ensuring your safety, Chloe.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” I quickly correct. “It’s just . . . my mother mentioned your wife is pregnant. I can’t imagine it’ll be fun for you to be watching me on another plane when she’s expecting your baby.”

  “Dude,” Cora says, whistling. “Daddy Karl? Bust out the shotguns and white wife-beater already, why don’t you?”

  He ignores her. “I was chosen for this mission, and the Guard always follow through with their orders. My wife is on the Guard, too. She understands the mission and accepts it. It won’t be a problem. Don’t worry yourself over it.”

  I tell him I won’t, but can’t help but feel sympathetic toward him, even while I figure I ought to be resentful.

  Chapter 15

  Over the last day and a half, I haven’t yet come to any real conclusions over what to do about Jonah and Kellan Whitecomb. For one, I haven’t talked to Jonah yet, but ache to. Need to. But on the other hand, I’d connected with Kellan in a way that, despite Cora’s beliefs, can’t easily be dismissed.

  Speaking of, Kellan texted me yesterday, while I was in Annar: So. Today, I didn’t see you at school. In class. In History, even.

  I’d been amazed to discover that apparently my cell phone coverage included Annar.

  I hadn’t written back because I didn’t know what to say. There’d been no message today from either of them. Not that I’d expected Jonah to text me, but I suppose it’d be fair to say I’d had some hope he would. That because I now know he’s a Magical, it makes a difference. That maybe he knows it, too.

  I don’t know his phone number or where he lives, so it’s not like I can go over and talk to him myself.

  So, maybe that’s the answer then. I go to the one I can talk to first. Meet me early tomorrow morning? Parking lot?

  It takes twenty seconds to get a response. You okay?

  A warm, fuzzy feeling blooms over the fact that he cares. Yeah. You?

  It expands with Kellan’s next text:
Better now. See you @ 7.

  Karl is in the guest bedroom, watching something on a food channel. I sort of hover in the doorway until he notices me. He clicks off the TV and says, “Is there something I can help you with?”

  I clear my throat and glance around the room. In the four hours he’s been here, I happen to know he’s made five phone calls and received seven, including, if I’m not mistaken, several with his wife. He’d checked the perimeter of the house, conferred with Caleb over logistics, and has pretty much left me alone, which I’m thinking was purposeful after my small speech on how I’m used to fending for myself.

  But now I find myself wanting to maybe give Astrid’s suggestion a try. “You all settled?”

  “Yep, thanks for asking.”

  “Um . . . where are you from?”

  He motions for me to sit down, but I remain standing. “I’ve split the bulk of my life split between Annar and the East Coast.”

  “Oh.” It’s weird that he hasn’t put any pictures or personal items up yet. “Do you like it like that?”

  He’s confused. “Meaning?”

  “Living in Annar. Do you like it there?”

  “Sure,” he says. And then, “I live full-time there, now, though. Most Guard do.”

  I lean against the dresser. “It’s interesting you’re on both the Council and the Guard. I didn’t know people could do that.”

  He gives me a questioning look, like he’s trying to determine if I’m teasing him or not.

  I clear my throat. “Do you like one more than the other?”

  “I prefer the Guard, to tell you the truth. I have a bit more Guard mentality than a Council one.”

  I wipe a finger across the top of the dresser. It’s spotless. My mother can’t bother to take care of me, but damn if she doesn’t ensure there isn’t one speck of dust in the house. “Did you grow up, always knowing about . . . this sort of stuff?”

  “Stuff?”

  I wave my hand between us. “You know.”

  “I really don’t,” he says, brows furrowed.

  I look toward the door, even though I know my parents aren’t at home. “I didn’t.”

  He scratches at his head. “Chloe, I feel like we’re speaking two different languages here. What are you referring to?”

  It’s uncomfortable talking about this with him. More than confusion—I think it’s the entire concept that me, as a Creator, and apparently someone the Magical worlds are looking forward to, knows squat is humiliating.

  All I’d heard at the party in Annar the night before was how excited everyone was that I’m coming of age. How they expect great things of me. How they can hardly wait until I hit the ground running.

  So many expectations. So many hopes. So much pressure amongst my ignorance that I feel like running.

  I can’t look at him when I admit, “I’m talking about the whole being-a-Magical thing.” I sit down next to him. “No one talks to me about it. I don’t know jack about . . . .” He prompts me to finish. “Anything,” I say in a small voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Karl says, “but I’m still confused here.”

  “Me too. That’s why . . . I need your help.” I square my shoulders and decide, good or bad, I’ve got to take a chance here. So I break down and tell him the truth, of how ignorant I am, of how my parents hoard their information, of how terrified I am, even more so than being attacked, of continuously failing people and their expectations of me.

  When I’m done, he doesn’t judge. He doesn’t berate me for asking for help. He doesn’t belittle me for not being someone I’m not. Instead, he agrees to help me. And then we begin to talk.

  “What do you know about the University in Annar?”

  Karl is driving me to school the next morning. I’d sort of lied and said I’d already promised a friend I’d get there early before I knew about the rules. I’m not sure why I didn’t tell him about meeting Kellan. I suppose it’s because I’m not sure what I’m going to say myself.

  I’ve got several choices, all uncomfortable:

  I’m a Magical, too. Did you know?

  I know your brother and have been in love with him my whole life. Did you know?

  What we did together on Monday was amazing. I feel connected to you more than I do with any other person save your brother. Oh. Did I tell you about your brother?

  “Not much,” I admit to Karl. It’s easier to talk about this than my love life. “Just that I have to go there in the fall.”

  “In some ways, it’s like a traditional college. You’ll go to classes, have professors, assignments. Only, you don’t get to pick your schedule. Based on your craft, the U picks your classes for you. Puts you on a track that will help cultivate the knowledge base you need to put your skills to good use in the field.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I say as he breaks at a stop sign. “I don’t get to pick my job. I don’t get to pick my college. I don’t get to even pick my classes. It’s all done for me?”

  Karl’s smile is rueful. “You have the choice whether or not to complete the assignments.”

  “And if I fail?”

  He snorts. “No one fails at the U. It’s just not done.”

  “Someone must fail,” I insist. “Not all Magicals can be geniuses. There have to be a fair share of dumb bricks out there, too.”

  His second snort indicates he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Intelligence isn’t a requirement to be a Magical, that much is true. I suppose the U is more for practicality’s sake. You learn what you can so you can be successful. Failure in the field is looked down upon and may have consequences.”

  “Like jail? Is there a Magical jail?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I mean. The Council doesn’t accept failure. If you do so, you can get censured.”

  “So, you do badly and they . . . what? Call you names? Slap you on the wrist?”

  We pull into the parking lot. “You don’t have to worry about that, Chloe.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a Creator. You’ll get a free pass.”

  I stare at him as he parks. “You mean, I can screw up and nobody will hold me accountable?”

  “No. I didn’t say that. What I said is, as first tier, there aren’t a lot of people who will have the power to rebuke you.”

  I rub at my eyes. “Can I at least trust that you’ll always rebuke me when necessary?”

  He laughs for the first time since we’ve met. “Sure.”

  Kellan is waiting for me on a bench partially shielded by a large tree. He’s reading a book, but notices me when I get within ten feet. At the same moment he realizes I’m nearby, there’s this weird tugging sensation in the pit of my stomach, the same pull I’d felt around him a few days ago.

  I still don’t know which discussion option to choose.

  This morning, when I woke up, I came to the conclusion that everything that happened with him must’ve been a fluke. My mind had been playing tricks on me, pretending on some level that Kellan had been Jonah.

  But the closer I get to Kellan, the hotter my cheeks burn. The more my insides flip and twist in agonizingly yummy ways.

  He stands up when I reach him, a half-smile forming charmingly on his lips. The butterflies in my stomach explode into a full-fledged frenzy. Like he can sense this, his smile turns radiant.

  “Hi,” we say at the same time. My mouth is so dry I end up licking my lips. He watches this, of course.

  “Thanks for meeting me so early,” I say. It comes out like a breathy giggle a femme fatal might use. So, so awful.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I’m so anxious, it’s ridiculous. “Sure. Um . . . .”

  “You’re nervous,” he says, reaching out to touch my face. I go lightheaded. “You don’t need to be nervous around me.” His fingers slide against my cheek after tucking a strand of hair back, and it takes every last brain cell to attempt to focus on the task at hand. After all, it’s a little hard to try to have a rational convers
ation when all you want to do is lose yourself in someone.

  “I . . . uh . . . want to talk to you about something.”

  “Good or bad?”

  Telling him about Jonah would be . . . bad? Telling him I’m a Magical, too, would be . . . good?

  Start with the good. Definitely.

  “I was absent for the last two days because I took a trip.”

  His half-smile quirks. Damn, it’s attractive. “You want to talk about your trip?”

  I nod.

  His hand drops to mine and tugs me towards the bench. “I thought you said you don’t travel.”

  He actually listened to me? “I don’t. Not normally. This was the first time I’ve gotten to go to this particular place.” And then, practically whispering, “And . . . you’ve been there, too.”

  He thinks about this for a moment. “I’ve been a lot of places.”

  A quick glance around shows a group of girls standing roughly fifty feet away, but they’re gossiping so loudly I doubt they’d ever be able to hear anything I have to say. “I saw your dad there.”

  He stares at me for a long moment. Then he stands up, scratches his forehead and stares some more. After what feels like forever, he leans forward and cups my face with his hands. “Your last name is Lilywhite.”

  And here I was, feeling lame that Cora had to practically smash a brick over my head to get me to figure out the whole last name thing. Kellan hadn’t gotten it, either!

  “I can’t believe that went right by me,” he grins, something between awe and surprise in his voice.

  I match his grin. “I didn’t figure it out myself until Tuesday.”

  “In Annar,” he clarifies, and a zing races through me. He knows now. He knows about me, he knows about Annar.

  “So, what are you?”

  I’m a bit drunk on giddiness right now, so I showboat a bit by holding out my palm. Kellan peers down at it, but then I close my fist. When I open it, there is a tiny Karnach snow globe.

  I sneak a peek at Kellan to see what he’s thinking. His face is totally calm, as if there’s nothing in my hand at all.

  Unnerved, I smack my hands together and the snow globe disappears. I try to shrug it off with feigned nonchalance. “I’m a—”