A Matter of Fate Page 14

  “Knowing someone is reading a book has nothing to do with omnipotence,” Cora snorts.

  “Sure, we can figure that out by surging,” Alex says. “And we can do it by sight. But no Magical, as far as I know, can actually tell if someone is doing something. Am I wrong, Karl?”

  “Mostly,” my Guard friend murmurs.

  “I’m with Alex,” Lizzie says. “We may not be strong enough to physically protect Chloe—”

  How many times do I have to say it? “I can take care of myself!”

  She ignores me. “But we can do other things. We can aide Alex in research.”

  “Yes,” Cora says, grinning wickedly. “I like this line of thought.”

  “Oh good lords,” Karl mutters.

  One of Alex’s eyebrows quirks up. “Do you have the authority to stop us?”

  “Yes, actually,” Karl says. “I’m on the Council and act, at all times, as a representative.”

  “Chloe outranks you,” Cora smirks.

  “Chloe will outrank me. But as she’s not officially seated—she hasn’t gone through the induction ceremony. She can’t yet act in the Council’s stead.”

  Cora waves a hand dismissively. “Are you going to help us or not?”

  “I am helping. I’m assigned to watch over Chloe until she moves to Annar.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not really helping,” Cora says.

  As Karl looks like he’s about to strangle her, I interject, “Don’t you remember how he’s here instead of back in Annar, with his wife? Think about how long pregnancies last. You think that’s not a sacrifice right there?”

  Cora finally shuts her mouth and has the grace to look sheepish.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Karl.” Meg wrings her hands. “I’m so scared something will hurt Chloe.”

  “Nothing’s going to hurt her. Look. I know you guys are apparently a bit sheltered around here, and I’m sorry for that. I really don’t get why your folks aren’t teaching you guys what you need to know, like how the Guard works. But Chloe’s a top priority to the Council and the Guard. There’s nothing we won’t do to ensure her safety, which is why I’ve been sent here.”

  “But you’re the only Guard around,” Lizzie points out.

  “No,” Karl says. “Giuliana is here, too. And if Giules and I fail, then you still have Kellan and Jonah Whitecomb.”

  “Really,” Cora sneers. “You’d put Chloe’s safety in the hands of two teenage Emotionals.”

  It’s enough to push Karl to his limit. “I’m going to ignore the insult you’ve just issued, because you’re obviously ignorant about the different crafts out there. You have no idea what those two are capable of. Put it this way: there have always been Emotionals on the Guard. They’re always involved in the most difficult missions, because they can get things done that no one else can. You think they’re just all anti-war sentiments and community-building efforts? Think again. Yeah, they can make you happy. They can even make you fall in love. But they can also take you to the worst, darkest places a soul can go. When we want someone stopped, we unleash an Emotional on them.”

  Everyone stares at him, mouths open. Including me.

  He points a finger at her. “I told you before. Those two just happen to be the most powerful Emotionals ever born, and that’s even before Ascending. If Giules and I both fail, then you can count on them.”

  Alex clears his throat. “Girls. If we want to keep Chloe safe, then we’ve got to trust Karl. We’ve got to trust the others to do what we can’t.”

  “Since when?” Cora says, arms folded tightly across her chest, “When have we ever been able to count on anyone other than ourselves? See, Karl, I figure you’ve been raised as a good Magical. You have a support system. You have knowledge. We don’t. We only have each other to rely on.”

  “No,” he says firmly. “You don’t. You have me.”

  Chapter 19

  The next few days are probably the most stressful I’ve had in forever. Jonah is . . . angry. Wounded. He won’t even look at me.

  Every day in math, I struggle to find a way to talk to him. Every day I believe I’m going to, but then something comes up and we end up not speaking. Yet, I keep telling myself that some kind of mistake has been made, that whatever’s going on with Kellan is a fluke. That somehow, I’m not really dating him.

  But I am. Because when I’m with Kellan, something in me switches on. A sense of rightness, contentedness. And love, as impossible as it sounds. These are all familiar feelings I’ve felt with Jonah. Still feel for Jonah.

  I bring this up to Karl in a roundabout way one afternoon while he and I play video games. “Is there such a thing as true love?”

  He hoots unattractively as he wins a round. “Sure.”

  “Magically,” I clarify. “A Magical sort of love.”

  He pauses the game and turns towards me. “Yes.”

  “Yes? That’s it?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes. It’s rare, but some Magicals have what’s called a Connection. It’s a tie between two people, making them soul mates. It can never be broken.”

  “How do you know if you have one?”

  He thinks about this. “Well, there’s a pull to the other person, like you’re magnets. You can’t resist them. Love is pretty much instantaneous, passionate, and only builds, never dulls. There’s a sense of . . . safety, I guess. Belonging.”

  Holy crap. He could be describing what I feel toward both Jonah and Kellan.

  “Nobody else does it for you.” Karl shrugs. “Best way to really know, though, is for a Seer to confirm it. It’s typically the first question a Seer gets. Most people desperately want one.”

  A bit of what Astrid was hinting at makes sense now. Could I possibly have a Connection? “You said it’s rare?”

  “Yeah,” he says, smiling a little. “Not everyone is lucky enough to be assured of a soul mate. Doesn’t mean you won’t find love, it just won’t be the same.”

  “You know anyone who has a Connection?”

  Now he grins. “Sure. You’re looking at one.”

  “I’m assuming it’s with your wife?”

  His scowl could wither plants. “Obviously.”

  “And . . . only one Connection per person?”

  “Yep. That’s the way it works.”

  This isn’t the answer I’m looking for.

  Karl is leaving for the weekend, which is good, because I think he’s missing his wife a lot lately. I’d bugged him a little more about what it’s like to be away from your Connection. He’d said that if the separation is done in anger, pain, or is forced, it’s unbearable. But when it’s on a mission, and done in understanding, it’s tough but doable. He still refuses to consider getting someone else in to permanently watch me, citing the need for the best. Which is him, of course.

  Kellan is over as Karl packs sporting a faint black eye. He shrugged off my concern earlier, claiming he smacked his face with his surfboard, but I saw look that got passed between him and Karl. And I definitely noticed when Kellan quickly changed the subject.

  I get a little jealous when I hang out with both Kellan and Karl, and it’s not so much their friendship I envy. It’s the fact that they’ve grown up how Magicals ought to grow up: knowledgeable, part of the worlds, and fully understanding what’s expected of them.

  “Who’s coming in your stead?” Kellan asks Karl. I am snuggled in close to him in the oversized chair in Karl’s room.

  “Raul’s on his way as we speak.”

  When Kellan groans, I ask, “Who’s Raul?”

  “Raul Mesaverde is possibly the biggest flirt you’ll ever meet,” Karl says with a sly grin.

  “You know him?” I ask Kellan.

  “Sure. I know most of the Guard.”

  Another reason to feel jealous. “What’s his craft?”

  “Raul’s a Cyclone,” Karl answers. When I patiently make no comment, he continues, “He’s sort of like Giules, but specializes in tornado
s, hurricanes, windstorms. That sort of thing.”

  Frankly, that sounds awful. “I guess I’ve never really thought about how many horrible jobs are out there,” I admit, twisting one of Kellan’s belt loops on his jeans in my fingers. It’s hard to keep my hands off him for extended periods of time, even when I’m constantly wondering where his brother is, what he’s doing, is he thinking about me?

  Yes, I’m completely messed up.

  “Not horrible,” Karl says, appearing offended. “Necessary.”

  “I didn’t mean you,” I quickly say, but he winks.

  “Earthquakes are horrible, too.”

  Kellan plays with my long hair. “We all have to do things we don’t like. It’s just how things are.”

  “Yin and yang,” Karl offers.

  “Two sides of a coin,” Kellan counters.

  “Butter and toast,” Karl says, and I laugh.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. Are there any natural disasters that aren’t caused by Magicals?”

  “Nope,” Karl says. “All of them are Council ordered.”

  Kellan motions to a nearby newspaper. “Speaking of, Iolani did a great job.”

  Karl nods. “Ever expanding her growing island fleet.”

  I hold my hands in time-out formation. “Who’s Iolani?”

  “A Volcanic,” Kellan answers, as if it’s obvious.

  “Iolani Popolohua is a descendant of Pele,” Karl adds. “Anytime a major volcano goes off, she’s the one triggering it.”

  I’ve asked Karl a thousand questions about the Guard so far, but now the most basic one comes to me. “How does someone go about joining the Guard?”

  Karl gives me a weird look. “Chloe. Are you serious?”

  “Uh . . . yes?”

  “The Seer at your birth tells your parents, just like they would about a Council placement.”

  “Oh. Well, that makes sense. So you two have always known?”

  “Chloe,” Karl says again. Both he and Kellan look surprised. “You do know, don’t you?”

  “Know what?”

  “You’re on the Guard, too,” Kellan says.

  I sit up, startled. “I’m not on the Guard. I’m on the Council.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s true,” Karl says. “But you’re also Guard. You’re like me. Didn’t your parents tell you this?”

  Are they pulling my leg? My voice is shrill when I say, “No, no they did not!”

  There’s an uncomfortable silence before Karl carefully explains, “All Creators serve both the Council and the Guard. It’s always been like this. Creators have the sort of job that requires the Guards’ protection.”

  I leap from the chair, furious. This is so typical of my parents! Yet another thing they didn’t bother telling me about. I’m going to be on the Guard, and somehow, that was too much for me to know?

  “Whoa,” Kellan says, standing up now, too. I feel like running again, but this time, Kellan grounds me with his presence and his arms.

  Muffled against his shirt, I whine softly, “I’m so tired of being in the dark. I feel so dumb.”

  Karl quietly leaves the room.

  “You’re not dumb,” Kellan assures me, his words soft and sweet as his lips against my temple, but it doesn’t matter. How am I supposed to live up to my parents’ expectations, anyone’s expectations, really, when I don’t even have a clue what they are in the first place?

  Raul Mesaverde is several things. First off, he is possibly the most exuberant person I’ve ever met. He simply oozes charm and delight. A smile perpetually shines on his face, laughter follows almost everything said or heard. He hugs both Karl and Kellan at least two times (although it would’ve been three had Karl not told him to knock it off) and me and Cora four times apiece. After he kisses both my cheeks twice, Kellan steps in and tells him to quit, which does nothing to dampen Raul’s good mood in the slightest.

  Secondly, he’s flashy. He drove up in a cherry-red Lamborghini (explanation: “What’s the point in driving if you don’t have fun doing it?”), wears a diamond-encrusted Rolex (“A simple gift from mi abuela when I Ascended.”), and favors silk Tshirts as opposed to any other kind (“Jersey is itchy and muy bourgeoisie, don’t you think?”). He finds it hilarious when Karl and Kellan refer to him as a Spanish gigolo.

  Third, he’s mind-blowingly gorgeous: tall and lanky, with stylish dark-brown hair and warm hazel eyes which twinkle more on the green side. His teeth are so white he nearly blinds me with every smile.

  I’m beginning to wonder if the Guard only employs good-looking Magicals.

  He is grossly disappointed when Karl informs him we can’t go to San Francisco for the weekend or anywhere else except the small town we’re already in. “This is a hamlet,” Raul complains as Karl gets into Kellan’s car. “What are we to do for fun around here?”

  “Chloe has three close friends,” Karl says, nodding towards an outraged Cora who is hissing under her breath about sexist pigs. “And one of them is a Muse. Figure it out.”

  Raul shifts back into radiant joy. “Is this true?”

  “Keep your hands off my girl this weekend,” Kellan tells Raul before kissing me goodbye. Cora predictably huffs, irritated at the action.

  “You are no fun.” Raul says, feigning hurt. “I swear. You steal all the girls in Annar and now you steal this gorgeous woman here, too. Where is your sense of sharing, Kellan?”

  I try not to laugh.

  “I’ll send my brother over here if you don’t follow my rules.” But it’s a tight smile Kellan offers when he says this.

  My laughter dies pretty quickly. Cora’s interest perks right up.

  “And why won’t you be here to watch my progress seducing your lovely?” Raul teases. I turn beet red and attempt to stammer some kind of In your dreams, buddy protest.

  Kellan gets into his car. “Zthane wants to see me.”

  Raul and Karl smirk at one another. “Ah yes. Such is the life of the golden boy.”

  I shoot Kellan a questioning look, but he doesn’t offer any clarification. “I’ll call you later tonight,” he says instead. And then they leave.

  Lizzie and Meg do not come over that night. Instead, Raul spends a good deal of time on the phone with Giuliana as he cooks us paella, discussing what’s been going on back at Guard headquarters plus what’s going on here locally.

  I still haven’t officially met Giuliana, but I’ve caught glimpses of her in the mornings when she drops off Jonah and Kellan. I wait for those small windows of time in which I can wear dark sunglasses and watch Jonah walk straight from the car to the building without anyone knowing I’m blatantly staring.

  He never talks to any of us. Alex once asked Kellan about this, but all Kellan would say was that Jonah has a lot on his mind lately. I can’t help but wonder what Jonah’s telling his brother, what explanation he gives for his distance.

  While Raul is talking to Giules, I surreptitiously type in Jonah’s number over and over on my cell as Cora watches a movie. Kellan’s given it to me, just in case. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Raul or Giules, he’d said. It’s just that if I was in trouble, and he was still in Annar, he trusted his brother best to keep me safe. How’s that for irony?

  I come close to calling Jonah several times. Each time I press call, I end up just as quickly pressing end call. Because . . . what would I say? How do I even start this conversation?

  Oblivious to my internal struggles, Cora leans in and whispers, “What’s the deal with this guy?”

  Raul is animatedly gesturing with a spatula, like Giules can see him over the phone. “You mean Raul?”

  “Shhh!” she hisses. And then, “Spill the beans, why don’t you?”

  I glance back again at Raul, a European model resplendent in a frilly apron. And then I look back at my punk-rock Cousin and her magenta hair. “He’s a member of the Guard.”

  “I know that,” she says. “What else?” I briefly relate the facts I’ve learned about Raul so far. She waves a hand at m
e. “That’s biography stuff! I want the dirt.”

  Before I can ask what she means, she shushes me again, and I’m thankfully saved by Raul cheerfully announcing that dinner is ready.

  Giuliana shows up Sunday morning, Jonah in tow. He doesn’t get out of the car, but then, I don’t leave the house. I watch him from my bedroom window upstairs. At one point he looks up and catches me staring, since I have no sunglasses to protect me. He’s the one hiding behind sunglasses now.

  My heart slams around so hard my chest hurts.

  I ought to run downstairs and out the door, straight to the car. Beg his forgiveness, declare my love. But I don’t. Fear keeps me rooted to my spot. Fear of his rejection, fear of his anger, fear of possible hatred.

  I don’t think I can live with him hating me. Ignorance is better than actually knowing. If he hates me, at least I don’t have concrete proof of it yet.

  As Raul and Giuliana talk to each other in my front yard, Jonah and I stare at each other through our respective windows. I raise my hand and press it against the glass, wishing it’s his hand I’m touching.

  I expect him to turn away, to pretend my motion means nothing. But he surprises me. After an excruciating minute, he lifts his hand up, too. And places it exactly in my line of sight.

  The moment is broken when Giuliana gets into the car. His hand drops and his head turns so they can speak. I pound on the window, desperate for his attention, but it does no good.

  “Interesting,” Cora murmurs, studying me over the top of the books she’s reading.

  I hold back tears of frustration.

  She sets her book down and comes to hug me, telling me for the millionth time that Kellan’s not for me. That Jonah is. I simply cry on her shoulder.

  For the rest of the day, Cora baits Raul with various taunts or giggles hopelessly at his poor excuses for jokes. I’m baffled by her behavior, because Cora’s not the sort to flirt. Men, she’s repeatedly told us Cousins, are good for only one thing: furthering the continuation of the species. Alex, oddly, has never taken issue with this concept.

  But it seriously appears as if she’s flirting now.