A Matter of Fate Read online

Page 13


  He laughs, flushing. “I didn’t have a seatbelt on, thus a concussion. Stupid, right?”

  “Don’t do that again.” I stop, surprised at how vehement the feeling is. How territorial I already feel toward Kellan. How important his safety is to me. How much I genuinely, truly care. It’s frightening how strong all these feelings are, considering I only met him a week before.

  And that I’m in love with his brother.

  Kellan squeezes my hand. “I won’t.”

  Because I can’t help myself, I ask, “Was that how Jonah broke his arm? From the fall?”

  We lean against the lockers by my class. “No.” And then, very quietly, so no one around us can hear, “One of those things . . . those black things, it broke his arm when he was trying to keep them away from the car.” His lips twist ruefully. “I was already out at that point.”

  My brain sort of short-circuits.

  “It’s okay,” Kellan says, his voice as soothing as his hand in mine. And then, as if he knows I need to hear it, “He’s fine now.”

  I gasp, “Why would he confront them?”

  Kellan brushes a few strands of hair away from my eyes. “Because it gave us something to work with. Turns out these things have feelings. We both were able to manipulate them.”

  I think about this, trying to push away the awful images of those things going after my guys. And then I try to not think about how messed up it is that I’ve already classified both twins so quickly in my mind as mine. “How so?”

  “If you find the right mixture, they can be subdued. J had a mass of them on the ground, controlled, until one came shooting out of the woods.”

  “And the lightning storm?”

  “Giuliana’s attempt to get them away from Jonah.” The warning bell rings, and, even though it’s the worst possible thing to do, I’m the one to kiss Kellan goodbye.

  And I like it.

  A lot.

  Chapter 18

  Just the thought of Jonah hurt, or angry—or worse, both—nearly brings me to my knees over the course of the next couple classes. Seeing the shock, the pain in his eyes before school was unbearable. Had Kellan not been there holding me, I would’ve dropped straight to the ground, sobbing.

  But then—that’s the thing. I was there with Kellan, and he was holding me. And insane as it is, I liked him there. I more than liked him there. I wanted him there. I don’t understand. How can I feel so strongly about both of them?

  Any hope of an easy out is gone. Someone, one of them, but more likely me, will end up hurt.

  By the time math rolls around, I’m beyond a wreck. I want a chance to talk to Jonah. He’s got to be furious, and I understand that. But I also know him. There’s a bond between us that is impossible to ignore. Talking to him is the key. If we talk, things will make sense.

  But Jonah never shows up to class.

  Why isn’t he here? Has something happened to him? Have those black things infiltrated the school and somehow tracked him down? My mind is racing with so many horrible scenarios that the lockers around me shudder uncontrollably after class, freaking out the students nearby. It isn’t until Kellan arrives that everything around me stills. He explains as we head toward the cafeteria that Giuliana came to get Jonah, since the Shaman who fixed his arm asked to have one more look at it before heading back to Annar.

  There goes your chance to clear the air, the little voice grumbles. And then, Would it even matter to warn you to stay away from this guy until you CAN go talk to Jonah?

  Kellan’s hand finds mine and, as a potent mixture of contentment and excitement sweeps away my anxiety, I realize there’s no way I can stay away from him.

  But the little voice isn’t the only naysayer. When Kellan dismisses himself to go to the vending machine, I’m left behind at our lunch table with two rather pissy girls and one blissfully ignorant non-Magical.

  “Explain,” Cora and Lizzie say in union. Graham looks up from his sandwich, startled by the vehemence in their voices.

  I feign innocence in an effort to mask my irritation. “About?”

  Lizzie leans in. “What was with that show you put on this morning?”

  Before I can say anything, Cora mutters, “Typical Chloe.”

  “What’s that mean?” I ask at the same time Graham says, “Ladies . . . .”

  “Graham, stay out of this,” Lizzie snaps. And then, to me, “Has something else happened that I’m not aware of?”

  Why are they doing this? “Whatever happens in my life is none of your damn business. I thought we established this on Friday.”

  Both girls flush bright red, then quickly shut up when Kellan sits down next to me. He gives them a look, one with narrowed, knowing eyes before turning to me. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I murmur, absurdly pleased that he cares.

  “So, Kellan,” Graham says, obviously trying to broker peace between me and the girls by changing the subject, “how’re you liking it here?”

  Kellan smirks a little. “It’s a typical high school.”

  “I’m assuming you were popular in your old school,” Cora says, but it’s without much malice. No—she’s saving all her pointed looks for me.

  It may be disgruntled with me, but the little voice sides with me when I wonder what her problem is.

  “Popularity is a subjective thing,” Kellan says casually.

  I nearly choke on my orange juice when Cora snipes, “You must have dated a lot.”

  But Kellan clearly is ready to give tit for tat. “Why would you think that?”

  She flushes again and shoots me yet another dirty look.

  Lizzie picks up where Cora’s left off. “We were just asking Chloe about an interesting rumor going around school right now concerning you two.”

  Graham says, confused, “I don’t remem—” but is stopped with what I assume to be a swift kick under the table.

  I totally want to disown both girls.

  Kellan, though, is totally amused. “I’m not much for the rumor mill.”

  “Word is,” Lizzie doggedly continues, “that you two are dating, of course.”

  The half-grin settles on his lips as he pretends to think about this. “Is that what’s being said?”

  Graham chuckles under his breath until Lizzie (or Cora) kicks him under the table again. And rather than verbally confirm the “rumor” she’s conveniently just created, Lizzie just nods. Graham quickly excuses himself to go buy a soda.

  Frustrated, I lean in and hiss, “Idiots. He knows you’re lying. He’s an Emotional, remember?”

  “It’s okay, Chloe,” Kellan says when both girls blanch. “They’re just trying to be protective.”

  “Don’t be reading my emotions,” Cora snaps, but it’s done nervously.

  He is still clearly amused. “Then don’t broadcast them so loudly.”

  She drums her fingers against the table. “Look, a friend of mine in Annar told me about you, about your reputation.”

  I want to crawl under the table. “Cora, stop.”

  “I could mention the things I’ve already heard about you here at school, Cora,” Kellan says evenly, “but that’d be pointless, wouldn’t it? Since I barely know you?”

  She sits back, lips clamped shut.

  “Anything else you want clarified?” he asks after a moment of tense silence.

  Lizzie gives me one last meaningful look and then turns to Kellan. And then she surprises me by asking him about what being an Emotional entails.

  “I’m sorry about my friends,” I say as Kellan pulls a book out of his locker.

  “Don’t be,” he says. “It’s sweet.”

  I laugh. “Right. Sweet.”

  He laughs, too. “Okay, it was annoying.”

  “You don’t have to put up with them, you know.”

  He shuts the locker door. “I think I do.” Then he tugs me closer. “They mean a lot to you. Being around you means being around them. And since I want to be around you, I will learn to put up wi
th them.”

  My heart flip-flops so hard I forget to breathe.

  “And as for my reputation—”

  “I don’t care,” I say, and I mean it. “It doesn’t matter.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever been reprimanded by a teacher in the hallway to stop kissing.

  Karl is already waiting for us after school, standing outside his Hummer wearing dark sunglasses that make him look like a Secret Service agent. When he sees Kellan, though, a smile breaks out on his face.

  I listen to them chitchat for a few minutes while we wait for Cora. It’s obvious that they are good friends who have a long history with one another.

  “Have you talked to Jonah yet today?” Kellan asks Karl as he hands me my backpack.

  Karl, sunglasses on top of his head now, observes this action with no comment. “I was just over at your house, conferring with him and Giules. He is in the worst of moods, bro. I thought he was going to take a baseball bat to the furniture.”

  My heart sinks, but Kellan merely laughs. “He’s being babysat. Can you blame him?”

  Kellan doesn’t know, the little voice marvels. How fascinating.

  It really hits me then, how Kellan really does know nothing about me and Jonah. He’d never be here with me if he did. He’d never have kissed me. He never would have hurt his brother like that this morning.

  Jonah never told his twin about me. And that stings.

  “Absolutely,” Karl is saying, grinning. “He held back. I would’ve definitely smashed the furniture.”

  “That’s such a typical thing for a guy to say,” Cora snarks as she walks up. “Machismo bullshit is so attractive.”

  “Ah,” Kellan says mildly. “I see that I’m not her only target.”

  “My singular goal in life is to be attractive for you, Cora,” Karl mutters.

  She gives me a very pointed look when I snort in laughter.

  “It’s just, Giules is totally babying him right now,” Kellan continues with Karl. “I honestly thought J was going to jump off the balcony last night when she offered to spoon-feed him soup.”

  Karl grins, shaking his head. “You know Giules. She can’t help herself.” He pauses. “By the way, her soup is excellent.”

  “Karl. It was canned.”

  “Oh, well, that makes a difference.”

  “Do you hear this?” Cora says to me. “Poor babies. I wish someone offered to feed me some soup.”

  “You didn’t break your arm, Cora,” Karl says.

  “Chloe smashed in her head and I didn’t see you babying her,” she snipes back.

  Karl grinds his teeth together but doesn’t say anything. For the millionth time that day, I find myself telling her to knock it off.

  She grabs onto my arm. “I just think—” But after a serious frown from me, she backs down, muttering a terse apology for being bitchy.

  “The fact is,” Kellan is saying, “Guard brass knew we moved. I notified them before we left.”

  Karl rubs at his jaw. “Zthane wasn’t given your note. He’s all sorts of pissed off right now.”

  “And another thing—why wasn’t I told ahead of time what’s going on?”

  “Believe me, I had a similar conversation last night with the higher-ups.”

  Cora is silent the entire ride to the Whitecombs’ house. But I know my Cousin—she’s watching and listening. Judging. She insisted I sit in the backseat with her, so in order to talk to Kellan or Karl in the front, I need to lean forward. Every time Kellan turns to speak to me, she tenses. Every time he touches me, she practically flinches.

  It’s beginning to piss me off.

  When we get to his house, Kellan tells Karl he expects to be briefed that evening about the current situation. Cora finally speaks. “Aren’t you a little young to be giving orders like that?”

  Kellan and Karl ignore her. Kellan comes round the car to my side and opens the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I don’t want to let him go. It’s crazy, especially since I know Jonah’s in the house in front of us, just behind the door somewhere, but I’m already sad to see Kellan go. Then he leans in, kisses me, and leaves.

  Karl pulls away from the curb and clears his throat. “Now, that was interesting.”

  Cora jumps on this, eager for whatever dirt she may think Karl can throw her. “Oh?”

  “Remember, I love those guys. But Chloe, I hope you know what you’re getting into with Kellan Whitecomb.”

  “Do tell,” Cora gleefully insists.

  “He’s always been quite . . . popular, if you will, with the girls. If you catch my drift.”

  “And Jonah?” Cora continues relentlessly.

  “J’s not like that,” Karl says. “That’s not to say he didn’t have his fair share of chasers, but he certainly hasn’t . . . um . . . dated as much as Kel has. Don’t get me wrong—you’ll have a lot of fun with Kellan. I just want you to be aware that no one has managed to keep his attention for long. Sorry, but it’s true.”

  Cora chortles unattractively.

  “Whatever you’re thinking about him, though, Cora,” he tells her, “is probably wrong. He’s a great guy, extremely smart, and loyal to those who earn his trust.”

  “Ah, yes,” Cora say derisively. “A saint who sleeps around.”

  Karl nearly chokes on this. I end up smacking her. “I have to admit, Chloe,” Karl continues, “I’m a little surprised it’s Kellan you’re . . . with? Dating? Friendly with?”

  “Yes, Chloe,” Cora says. “Tell us exactly how you categorize your relationship with Kellan Whitecomb.”

  “It’s none of your business,” I hiss to my Cousin.

  “I’ve made it my business,” she replies calmly. “Just the way you would if the situation was reversed.”

  “I would’ve placed good money that it was Jonah you were interested in,” Karl says. “I mean, I knew something was up with you and those two. But . . . I don’t know. The vibe I got was that there was something between you and J. I’m not usually wrong about these things.”

  Cora doesn’t smile. Neither do I. The rest of the ride is done in silence.

  Later that night, Lizzie’s standing in front of the bay windows, looking out. The sun’s begun to set, casting long, dark shadows across the grass, which eerily resemble the things that attacked us yesterday. I am unsettled enough to lay my hand against the wall, solidifying the wood until it’s virtually indestructible.

  She’s clearly upset. “I’m sorry we weren’t there to help you guys yesterday. It makes me mad that we didn’t even know what was going on until everything was over.”

  Hell, if there wasn’t anything I could’ve done, there sure wasn’t anything a Muse, Intellectual, or a Joy could’ve accomplished. But I thank her for her concern.

  Karl, who has so far been listening to my Cousins in silence since telling them the basics of the situation, frowns. “Technically, this doesn’t concern any of you.”

  “Bullshit,” Alex says from his chair nearby. “First off, she’s considered family, and we protect our own. Secondly, if I’m not mistaken, this sort of thing concerns the Magical worlds in general. We may be young and ignorant, but we’re still part of that population.”

  “The Council and the Guard are taking care of matters.”

  Alex rolls his eyes. “Great job you’re doing. Because from what we’ve just heard, until yesterday, you didn’t even have enough eyewitness accounts to accurately describe these things, let alone have someone actually attempt to fight back. While you Council members have been yapping, people have been dying. No one knows who these things are. No one knows where they’re from. No one knows what they want. So, by my book, that’s a big fat fail coming from Annar.”

  Karl doesn’t say anything, but he’s definitely glowering.

  Cora picks at a few of the brighter pink strands in her hair. “Guys. I was there. I can safely say that there’s nothing that anyone in this room could have done to counter these things, save per
haps Chloe. Sorry, Karl—I can’t see how an earthquake would have stopped them, either.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Karl says through clenched teeth.

  Lizzie squats down next to Alex. “I agree with you on the grounds that none of us possess the powers to be able to really stop these things, based on what Karl’s said. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. What’s to say that, gods forbid, they get past Karl to Chloe? Are any of you willing to take that risk?”

  “They’re not getting past me,” Karl insists. When Alex questions this, his eyes flash. “You think you can protect her better?”

  “No,” Alex admits. “I have no defensive skills that would serve in the heat of an attack. But I’ve got other skills, man. Skills that can help in other ways.”

  “Meaning?”

  Alex takes off his glasses and polishes them on his shirt. “I’m damn good at what I do, even if I’m not Council bound.”

  “Are you talking about research?” Karl asks skeptically.

  The Intellectual side of Alex kicks in. “Obviously, they’re Magical beings of some sorts with extreme speed and the ability to attack while not fully corporeal. You yourself admitted they have emotions that can be triggered, which leads to the assumption that they’re beings. They coordinated an attack—they moved in teams and yet were able to break apart and strike in different locations if necessary. This leads me to assume there’s intelligence.”

  Karl simply stares at him.

  “They’ve been active for a certain amount of time. Such a timeline could help pinpoint facts. And they’re moving in between the worlds, unless there are teams on each plane. They have to have come from somewhere.”

  Warily, Karl asks, “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’m going to find out what they are.”

  “Alex,” Meg interjects for the first time this afternoon, “don’t do anything that will make you a target!”

  “How can that make me a target? I’ll be researching. If they can sense me reading books, then they’re far more powerful and worrisome than we’ve been lead to believe, because at that point, they’ll be close to omnipotent.”