A Matter of Fate Page 4

  Kellan looks, for the briefest moment, like an annoyed deer caught in the headlights of these girls. As I study him, a slew of questions hit me: Where did Jonah go? Why did he leave? Is he really the Jonah I know? Did he dream about me, too? Does he remember me? Had he seen me on the field? Does he want to talk to me? Should I ignore Kellan? Should I talk to him? Speaking of, why didn’t I ever know Jonah had a twin? I should’ve known, right?

  I swear, the little voice sighs, sometimes you give me a headache.

  I decide to live in the moment. I lurch forward, one foot in front of another. I block out the questioning looks on Cora’s and Lizzie’s faces, as well as Alex’s suggestion to find him ice cream. I just keep walking until I reach Kellan.

  Have you thought this through?

  But I’m tired of overanalyzing everything. This feels like the right thing to do. Still, my insides are quaking, forcing me to take a deep breath to steady myself. I’m not sure if it’s because Kellan looks so much like Jonah. Maybe it’s because of the way my hand tingled long after we ceased touching this afternoon.

  Then again, maybe it’s because I’m acting like a crazy person. I stop directly in front of him. “Hi there!”

  He grins, somewhat surprised but definitely amused. The pretty girl standing closest to him is annoyed, though. I know why, but she can flirt with Kellan later. I need answers.

  “So.” He focuses on me. “Nice cheering tonight.”

  And then, I can smell him. It’s a warm smell, a little spicy, and definitely not what I remember Jonah smelling like. It’s rather intoxicating, which is . . . .

  NOT A GOOD THING.

  Focus! “Yes, well, that’s what we cheerleaders do best! Go, team, go!” I pump my fist up lamely.

  Kellan doesn’t seem to notice when the girls leave. “Can I be honest, Chloe?”

  He remembers my name! An almost uncontrollable desire to touch his hair rushes through me. Does it feel anything like his brother’s? Because if it does— Do NOT go there! the little voice demands.

  I Velcro my hands to my sides. What was he saying? I can’t remember, so I merely smile wider and do a multi-purpose head bobble.

  “You don’t really seem like the cheerleader type. What’s up with you being on the team?”

  Wait. What? “Excuse me?”

  “The perky voice, either. Can you really tell me that you enjoy sounding like that?”

  So not what I thought he’d say. My cheeks burn, but then he smiles this insanely alluring half-grin and my heart jolts unexpectedly.

  What the hell is going on?

  I desperately attempt to bring the focus back on the information I’ve come over for. “So, uh, I noticed Jonah left. He’s not enjoying the game?”

  Apparently, it’s my turn to surprise him. “You know my brother?”

  And . . . this tells me that, while I never knew about Kellan, he never knew about me either. This throws me even more off balance. “Um . . . .”

  “To answer your question, though,” Kellan says, “no.”

  I’m lightheaded when his smile returns. “And . . . what about you?” I ask.

  He leans against the fence, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “The same.”

  “Why didn’t you leave with him?”

  “I was trying to gracefully find a way to escape from the group you found me in. Thanks to you, I don’t have to work so hard now.”

  I’m still dazed at that half-smile. Damn, it’s gorgeous.

  Why aren’t you scanning the parking lot for Jonah? the little voice demands. Focus! If you’re going to hang out here, at least ask questions that will help!

  And then Kellan reaches forward, and I hold my breath as he brushes something off my cheek. His touch is light, but there’s no mistaking how strongly I feel it. My skin tingles furiously. “Was there something on my face?”

  When he says, “Just a stray eyelash,” I feel like lightning strikes me.

  Which leads me to mumble something lame like, “You should have saved it for me, so I could’ve made a wish.”

  More of the grin. “What would you have wished for?”

  “Don’t you wish you knew?” I’m flirting, and this is crazy. And wrong. Because I am in love with his brother, and all my wishes have been about him. So, despite still being dazzled by Kellan’s fabulous smile, I finally ask a question about the person I should be focusing on. “So, your brother just left you here?”

  He smirks and rubs at his hair in this charming, unassuming way. “That’s sort of how it is with us—one usually takes the fall while the other escapes. It isn’t like I haven’t stuck him in the same situation before.”

  “It must be nice to have a brother like that,” I say, and it’s sincere. I’ve always wanted a sibling, but Magical families only produce one pregnancy. “Sadly, I’m an only child.”

  He motions towards the concession stands, where the Cousins are still standing. “What about those girls over there? You seem to be tight with them, and one even kind of looks like you.”

  It’s surprising that he’s noticed who I hang out with, even more so how he was able to pick up on the distant familial bond between me and Cora when no one else does. So I find myself telling him the truth, or, something close to the truth. “They’re sort of like my . . . adopted family. I guess you could say that Cora and Lizzie are the closest people I have to sisters, especially Cora.”

  “Which one is she?”

  I point Cora out, adding, “You met Lizzie today in history, remember?”

  He turns his gaze back towards me. “Did I?”

  “You cannot tell me you don’t remember her,” I laugh. I mean, it was Lizzie. He shrugs, and I can’t stand it anymore. “Why are you here?”

  Kellan looks as if he’s holding back a laugh. “Define ‘here.’”

  Oh, to really ask for the truth. I settle for the easiest here. “At the game. You know, since you two hate football and all.”

  “We sort of promised our dad that we would come and make an effort to, and I quote, ‘blend in’ at our new school.”

  “Do you always do what your father says?”

  He shrugs again. “We like to throw him these little bones every so often.”

  And then I remember that Jonah’s mother died when he was little, which is probably why Kellan is only talking about his dad. Speaking of Jonah . . . .

  I allow myself to scan the parking lot for him. He still hasn’t come back, and it’s making me antsy. Where could he be? But then the buzzer sounds, indicating halftime is over.

  “Isn’t that your cue?” Kellan asks.

  I’m hesitating, and I don’t know why. I want to say it’s because I’m hoping Jonah will come back, but something in me says, while that’s true, it’s not the entire reason. We stand and stare at each other in silence. A rush of butterflies nearly crash out of my chest, which is weird because Jonah’s been the only guy I’ve ever felt butterflies for. Even though it was irrational, no other guy I’ve dated could live up to him. All the boys I knew at school paled in comparison in every way possible.

  So how is it that I’m so attracted to Kellan? Because I think I am, and I definitely know he’s not his brother. And this makes me feel guilty, and confused, and finally forces me to take an awkward step back.

  I tell him I do indeed have to go, but I still don’t leave.

  “One would almost assume,” he says lightly, “that you aren’t eager to get back to cheering.”

  I nearly jump out of my skin when Lizzie lays a hand on my shoulder. At least she has the grace to look sorry for interrupting.

  “Right. Right.” I take another step back. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then. At school, I mean. I mean, in class. In history. You know what I mean.”

  OH MY GODS. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

  Kellan looks like he’s having a hard time keeping the corners of his mouth from tugging upwards.

  Lizzie smiles apologetically. “Sorry to have to steal her away. I should
introduce myself. I’m Lizzie.”

  “According to Chloe, we’ve already met,” he says, matching her apologetic smile, “so introductions are unnecessary.”

  A weird look crosses her face. She turns to me. “You’re talking to Kellan.”

  My face warms. “Yes?”

  Now she looks pissed off. “Kellan.”

  The guy in question tilts his head to the side and studies Lizzie thoughtfully. And yet, she repeats it for a fourth time through gritted teeth. He must think we’re lunatics.

  “So,” Kellan says to me. “I’ll see you later, C. In school. Possibly even in class. Maybe it’ll be in history. Who knows?”

  Why does he have to keep smiling at me like that? Does every girl fall prey to . . . Wait. What did he just call me? “C?”

  “Yeah. C. For cheer. You know, your very favorite thing to do.” And with that, I watch him go, nearly burning a hole in his head with my staring.

  “Kellan?” Lizzie repeats for a fifth time.

  I turn toward her. “Why are you repeating his name so much? You probably freaked him out.”

  “I assumed you were talking to his brother,” she snaps. “Cora and I were certain about that. You were flirting, for crying out loud!”

  I deny it, but I was. We both know I was. I shouldn’t have been, but I was. And I don’t know why.

  Chapter 7

  “You should know I’m being called back to Annar to deal with some . . . challenging situations.”

  Trips to Annar are extremely common, but since my father rarely explains ahead of time why he goes, I’m intrigued. “What situations?”

  His eyes ferret around the kitchen before he beckons me to sit next to him on a barstool. My mother sits down opposite us, knitting silently. “I need you to pay close attention,” he tells me, “so you can take care of yourself if need be.”

  Make that very intrigued.

  His voice is low and steady. “Over the last decade, there has been a rash of Magical murders. Cora’s father, for one—you know about that one already.”

  I nod. Cora’s dad died five years back in Washington D.C.

  “Lizzie’s father, as well—”

  Hold on here. Lizzie’s dad disappeared three years ago. It’d been assumed he ran away with another woman, or so Lizzie’s drunk mother often insists while screaming at the top of her lungs.

  When he sees my confusion, my father says, “Well, it’s not like young children need to be told about these things.” He waves a dismissive hand. “Focus on what’s important, as it’s critical you understand what’s at stake. Over the last decade, there have been eleven murders we know about on our plane. I won’t bore you with the statistics of the other planes, but there have been murders there, too. During the last year alone, there’ve been three murders here. The Council believes that whatever is going on is escalating rapidly.”

  A chill races down my spine. “Are you sure they’re all murders?”

  “Yes. Trackers are on the hunt for the culprit, or culprits, but the truth is, we aren’t even sure how many sentient creatures are involved. Chloe, I tell you this because you are a very powerful, important Magical nearing her Ascension. Every single Magical murdered so far has been one of importance. Prior to the last month, all victims had Ascended. The most recently attacked, though, were not.”

  I swallow hard. “You’re saying I could be a target.”

  My father pauses, kneading his hands back and forth across the counter top. My mother sets her knitting needles down and answers for him. “Yes.”

  My mind sort of flatlines.

  “You must be vigilant,” my father urges. I’ve never seen him so concerned about me before. If it wasn’t in such a scary context, I might actually cry. “As of right now, you are no longer allowed to go anywhere without another Magical present.”

  And . . . there go my fuzzy feelings. “Are you serious?”

  “You are a Creator. Your price to the Council is incalculable. It has been decided that you must be guarded at all costs.”

  “My price?”

  “We have no idea who is doing this. It could be a Magical, taking out the competition. It could be one of the species after discovering the presence of Magicals. We just don’t know anything, despite our best efforts. Whoever it is, they are strong enough to take out powerful Magicals who normally would have nothing to fear from the nons of their plane.” He stands up, sighing. “The Council must always have a Creator. Kleeshawnall Rushfire is old and is nearing the end of his life span. You are the only other Creator in existence. Whether you like it or not, you will be guarded. And you’ll follow the Council’s orders to the letter. My daughter will not embarrass our family or risk her life because she’s seventeen and unhappy with a lack of freedom. It’s a small price to pay to ensure our kind keeps evolving.”

  “There’s another Creator?” I whisper. They’ve never told me this before.

  My father has the audacity to look bewildered by my bewilderment. “Of course there is.”

  “Do not focus on Rushfire,” my mother snaps. “Are you listening to your father? You will do as you’re told, Chloe.” She then escorts me up to my bedroom. This is not a good sign. “Someone will be here soon to watch over you,” she says as I sit down on my bed. “I wanted him here tonight, but he’s currently out on a mission.” The windows are then checked to make sure they’re latched. She’s never checked them before, not even when I was little. This drives home the severity of the situation.

  My hands are shaking. “Who is this guy? Are the others getting babysitters?”

  “No. There is no need. You’re the only one Council bound.” She pulls the curtains shut. “You’ll be watched over by Karl Graystone. He is young, only twenty . . . but your father assures me that the Council insisted on Karl and Karl alone.”

  Only twenty . . . “What is he?”

  She knows what I mean. “A Quake.”

  An earth mover, another rarity in the Magical world. “Why would the Council send someone so valuable to look after me?”

  “As I explained, he is the best. He does not fail at his missions. But, I need to stress something to you. If . . . gods forbid, someone actually ever does manage to get through Karl, you must protect yourself at all costs. I do not care if it happens in front of two thousand nons, you do whatever is necessary to protect yourself. The Council cannot lose you.”

  The sad thing is that my parents’ concern seems only to be what is best for the Council, not for their daughter. How I wish my mom was hugging me right now, telling me it was going to be okay. That she was going to make sure that nobody hurt her little girl. But no—I get a lecture on how I can’t embarrass the family by getting myself killed. Gods.

  “When does this Karl arrive?”

  “Soon.” She pins me with a long look. “You should know that Karl is recently married and his wife is pregnant. So, no hanky panky.”

  I gape in outrage. “Are you serious? I mean, Mother, if there are things out to kill me, do you really think my first thought would be how to sex this guy up?”

  She ignores this. “Caleb should be here any minute. We’ve asked him to come and stay until Karl arrives.”

  “Caleb? He’s a Faerie. And small. What can he do if we’re attacked?”

  “Hey,” says an indignant voice. “I’m a Magical, too, you know. And, besides, I have a cell phone.”

  Sure enough, Caleb is hovering in my doorway. And for once, he’s not smirking.

  “Good. You’re here,” my mother says. “I expect you to hold to our bargain, Caleb.”

  He flies into the room and lands on my desk. “Of course.”

  When she leaves, I ask, “Bargain?”

  He drops a small duffle bag next to him. “I’m supposed to go with you everywhere until this guy gets here.”

  “Everywhere?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “You’re not going to the bathroom with me,” I tell him, and he just laughs.

  Chapt
er 8

  Graham is throwing a barbeque today at the beach. Well, it’s really more like the football team is throwing the party, but it’s mostly due to Graham. He’s a people pleaser and loves getting everyone together in one place to make sure they’re all having fun.

  I didn’t feel like getting the fifth degree from Cora, so I neglected to tell her when she picked me up about what my parents had said the night before. And when it came time to leave, Caleb gave her some line about wanting to sketch the shoreline rather than ratting me out. He even insisted on staying in the car, as long as we cracked the windows and left water and food, like he was some kind of dog rather than a person.

  “Where’s Graham?” Cora asks Lizzie as soon as we find her. There are already a ton of people at the beach—playing volleyball, laying out despite the cool temperatures, playing board games, or just milling about, talking.

  Lizzie points at the water. “Out surfing.”

  My eyes follow Lizzie’s finger. I scan the group of surfers bobbing up and down on their boards for Graham. He loves to surf, but it’s the one sport he doesn’t excel at. He keeps trying, though, bless his heart.

  “The red wetsuit,” Lizzie clarifies. And then, a tad defensively, “He’s been doing great today.”

  Cora snorts, but manages innocence when Lizzie glares at her. I continue scanning the waves, seeing if I recognize anyone else.

  And . . . there they are. Clad in dark wetsuits that match their hair, Jonah and his twin are out in the water. I marvel at how skillful Jonah is when he catches one of the larger waves. I don’t know much about surfing, but I do know this: he’s good. Like, really good. Way better than any of the guys I know at school. It’s like being at an art gallery and seeing a masterpiece hung next to a stick figure. He’s so amazing he takes my breath away.

  And then another large wave swells, and Kellan catches it. He’s just as talented as Jonah is, and the two of them on back-to-back waves are quite a sight. But I’m not the only one who’s blown away. Nearly everyone on the beach has stopped to watch their sets.