A Matter of Forever (Fate #4)
Page 4
Jonah’s not relaxed right now, though. He held my hand the entire way here from the hospital, fingers tightly wrapped around mine, like he was afraid somebody was going to swoop in and snatch me away. Enlilkian would never be so obvious, though. If we have been playing a game, like he claims, he’s going to wait until exactly the right moment to find me again. A moment in which I’m not ready, because what fun is it for the cat to catch a mouse fully prepared?
Gods, I need to be ready. I also need to tell Jonah what I’ve speculated. Yesterday ended up being too crazy with all of the new plans shifting around to find a moment for a quiet talk.
“You know,” Will is saying, “it seems to me that as Magicals are supposedly an advanced race, tedious paperwork would be nothing more than a memory. Isn’t there a craft where a bloke has perfect memory or whatnot?”
I can’t help but laugh. “If only.” A quick glance around precedes, “Where’s Cameron?”
“Downstairs in Kellan’s flat.” He points at the floor below us, tapping his foot. “We’ve been playing phone tag while going over blueprints and think we might have finally found a spot that would be ideal for both locations to insert a staircase into. Have you been giving it any further thought what you might want it to look like?”
“Uh, no.” I nudge Jonah, who is busy checking messages on his phone. “Have you?”
He glances up from the screen, confused. “Huh?” It’s stuffed back into his pocket. “Sorry. I ignored work issues over the last week and they’ve sort of begun to pile up.”
I can only imagine what my phone looks like right now. There are probably a zillion notifications filling up the screen. But I’d rather not think of that right now. I curl a hand around the back of his neck and plant a soft kiss right below his ear. Good lords, he smells so good. “I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”
His head shifts and dips down toward mine. My pulse stutters as he gently brushes his lips across mine, all blooming fireworks sparkling through my veins. “All that matters is that you are okay.” Then, to Will, “You were talking about staircases?”
If I’m not mistaken, Will’s a wee bit uncomfortable with his current third wheel status. The urge to giggle at this awkwardness intensifies when he tugs on his collar. “Yeah. The location kind of depends on the sort you want.” He reaches out and pokes my shoulder. “If Chloe here fancies herself a grand staircase, that pretty much blows Dad’s plans.”
“Rats.” The sigh I let loose is all exaggerated displeasure. “There goes that dream.”
He rolls his eyes and motions us down a hallway. “As this is hopefully a short term architectural alteration, we figured it would be best to be as obscure as possible. You’ve both got laundry rooms at the south ends of the flats.” An accordion door is opened up to show a sink, bare cupboards, and hookups in the walls. That reminds me—I ought to pick us out some washers and dryers, or at the very least, make us some. Will motions to the end. “There are these brilliant pantry-like rooms—maybe for storage? I’m not sure. They’re large enough, though, that we could probably fit a wee staircase through both.” He opens the door on the far wall to feature a small empty room lined with shelves. “And by we, I mean Chloe.”
Jonah says, “I feel really lame right now, because I don’t think I’ve ever looked behind this door before.” He glances around the room. “Or, to be honest, even knew it existed.”
“How have you kept your clothes clean?” I can’t help but tease.
That dimple I adore so much appears as a small flush decorates his tan cheeks. “Uh ... we sort of hired a laundry service. Or, I guess I just started using Kellan’s by default.”
I shake my head, amusement tugging the sides of my mouth up. “You two. I swear.”
Will chuckles. “This all now makes sense, as Dad reports Kellan’s laundry area and storage closet are equally barren, save a few cardboard boxes. I’m to take it this means neither of you will be too heartbroken to give the space up?”
Jonah’s eyes lose focus for a moment as he stares into the distance. “We’re both fine with the location as long as Chloe is feeling okay enough to try.”
“It’s spooky how they do that,” Will murmurs to me once Jonah’s attention fades back to whatever his brother is saying to him in his mind.
“Actually,” I mock whisper, which isn’t too hard considering I won’t be winning any screaming matches anytime soon, “it is. Annoying, too.”
Jonah’s unbothered by this. “You love us anyway.” And he’s smiling—genuinely smiling, dimple and all and not in the way he had in the past, when the corners of his mouth tilted upward but hid so much hurt and pain. This is a real smile, one that makes my heart so very contented to see.
We can do this, he and I. We can find a way to make this all okay.
“Dad has some photos he brought along of staircases you guys may want to peruse,” Will is saying. I reluctantly tear my eyes away from Jonah to refocus on the man I’ve been living with for over half a year now. “Since, you know, you won’t be getting your grand staircase to sweep down on and all. I’ll go get him. Do you want to wait until Kellan comes to pick one?”
“He’s fine with whatever we pick.” Jonah’s hand curves around my waist. “Design and architecture are of very little interest to him.”
Will scoffs. “I would have thought him quite keen on design, considering his flat looks like it’s from some fancy magazine.”
“That’s all Callie,” I say slyly. “She likes doing that kind of stuff, so he let her when he moved in. Speaking of, where is she right now?”
“I haven’t the slightest,” Will says coolly. “Most likely torturing some poor soul in a shop somewhere.”
“Or,” Jonah says, “downstairs with your father and Astrid, wondering why you haven’t checked in yet.”
I resist the urge to chortle. “How do you know that? Can you feel her all the way down there?”
Oh man, that dimple is taunting me. I want to kiss it so badly right now. “Actually, I can, but Kellan told me. He got there about five minutes ago.”
Will’s sigh is that of a long-suffering man. But then, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. Becca’s calling.
A two thousand ton elephant enters the room with us. All of the teasing and laughter we’d built up goes flying away and all that’s left is gross discomfort and sadness.
I reach forward and squeeze his shoulder before Jonah and I leave him to take the call in private. I can’t help but worry, wonder why she’s calling and how he’s doing with all of these changes. The girl he fell in love with as a child is healed now, thanks to Cora. She’s healthy and in possession of all her memories of their rich history together and all the mistakes she made.
I may tease him about whatever it is he and Callie are or aren’t feeling toward each other, but it isn’t fair—not until he resolves whatever it is that lingers behind with the girl he lost his heart to at such a young age, only to have her cheat on him with his best friend and get pregnant. And now, Grant’s dead and so is the baby, and for years Becca was confined to a wheelchair and a breathing machine with only snatches of memories and a stranglehold built on obligations and history that refused to let Will move on.
She wants him back. And he doesn’t know how he feels about it. It’s a tough thing, watching someone you love struggle so much with their demons and emotions and know there’s nothing you can do to help them but simply just be there for them.
Unfortunately, I’m forced to watch these things happen way too often, so I know this feeling well.
“Think the renovators will be upset that I’ll be finishing their work for them?”
We’re in the living room, surveying our options as we wait for Will. From behind, Jonah winds his arms around me, his chin settling on my shoulder. “They’ll get paid no matter what, so I’m thinking no.” A lingering kiss presses against my cheek; tiny, happy wings beat against my heart at this sweet touch. “You don’t have to do ev
erything right now, you know. No big decisions need to be made.”
“Are you really okay with Will and Cameron moving in?”
“Yes,” he tells me. “But just to let you know, Kellan offered to have them live with him downstairs. I think Cameron is leaning toward that.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I stare out of the window in front of us. It’s early summer in Annar; dripping emerald trees drape over the city streets, riotous flowers line windowsills, and pillowy clouds drift through an azure, sunny sky. It’s funny how beautiful today is when, in reality, it’s the beginning of something so ugly.
“It’s unfair that so many people have to uproot their lives just because of me.”
His nose gently grazes the skin between my ear and chin. Goose bumps race up and down my arms. “They don’t see it that way.” Another lingering kiss graces my cheek, leaving me weak-kneed. “At least Astrid and Callie aren’t moving in, right?”
I wrap my arms around his. “Thank goodness for small favors.” And then, despite wanting nothing more than to turn around in his embrace and kiss him until we both forget our names, I say, “We need to talk.”
All the muscles pressed up against me tense. “About?”
Will emerges from the hallway, face unbearably grim. “Sorry. Where were we?”
Jonah lets go and steps to one side, a hand tugging through his hair. “Staircases. You were saying you had photos?”
“Ah, right.” A quick glance at us has Will adding, “Let me go down and talk with Dad. You two come down when you’re ready to see them.”
I trail him to the door. “Thanks, Will.” And then, “Is everything okay?”
He glances behind me, back toward the living room where Jonah is still standing. “Yeah. Fine. See you two soon?”
I lean up and give him a quick hug and then he leaves.
Jonah’s at the wide French doors that lead to a wrap around balcony, hands stuffed in his pockets as he gazes out, brows furrowed. I join him, but am surprised to see what he’s looking at.
There’s a gorgeous, ethereal redhead across the street, wearing black sunglasses and looking like she’s just stepped off of Fifth Avenue in New York City. Un-freaking-believable. It’s Sophie Greenfield.
I lean over to the railing and peer down at Kellan’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend. “What is she doing here?”
There’s very little emotion in his voice when he tells me, “I’m assuming she’s checking in on Kellan. It’s not like it’s an unusual occurrence, you know.”
Sophie smiles up at me before flipping me the bird. Nice.
“Way to be classy, Sophie!” I shout down. Well, I attempt to shout, anyway, as my voice is still a scratchy mess. She continues to hold her finger up as she strolls down the street and turns at a corner. Gods. What a bitch. Why is she doing this? Doesn’t she understand how obsessive this seems? “Isn’t this stalking?”
“Yes,” he agrees. “But there’s not a lot we can do about it, remember? She’s banned from the building, but not from the sidewalks around it. Annar is free rein for her.”
And the Council has specifically told both twins they aren’t allowed to influence her. Awesome. “Does Kellan know she’s here?”
“Yeah. But he didn’t let her see him, so ...”
Ugh. It’s infuriating. The last time we ran into each other, she basically insinuated something happened between her and Jonah when I was in Alaska, which was such a low blow. But, I don’t want to talk about Sophie. That will only make all of us miserable. I decide to cut to the chase immediately. “I think I know who is in Jens’ body.”
His surprise stings, as it seems he was expecting me to confess to something else, like maybe something to do with his brother. And I have to remind myself, time and place, even though I also know I reap what I sow.
I walk back over to where he is. “He ... no, it?” I shake my head, choosing right now to focus more on the task at hand. “Whoever it is in Jens’ body. He could do Magic—or at least, a kind of Magic. I tore the bathroom stall doors off in an attempt to smash him with them. And while he choked me out, I watched them go right back onto their hinges, just as if nothing had happened.”
A long, hard breath is blown out. The hand that hints at his anxiety is working overtime as his knuckles strain white. “Are you saying you think Jens is possessed? By another Magical?”
“Not just any Magical,” I tell him. “The first one. Enlilkian.”
Seconds tick by as he processes this.
“Obviously, I can’t say for sure, but ...” I twist the ends of my loose hair up into a bun before letting it fall back down again. “When we were in the hospital, when it seemed like I was having seizures, somebody spoke to me in my head. Somebody I didn’t recognize.”
Somebody who wasn’t Caleb.
My fiancé’s eyes widen significantly.
“Back at the restaurant, after he broke my bones,”—Jonah winces and pulls me closer, like he’s desperate to protect me long after it happened—“he put this sound in my head. An awful sound that kind of just ...” I search for the right words to describe this hell, but none seem to work well enough. “I guess it just shut me down. I heard it again in the hospital.”
“Jesus,” he whispers.
“I kept thinking, who could do this to me? No one else makes sense, Jonah. Only Enlilkian.” I tap on my forehead. “I don’t feel him in my head anymore, but ... it worries me you can’t feel me. Or surge. What if he’s done something to me to make sure you can’t?”
“Then we will figure out how to reverse whatever he’s done. Are you sure you don’t feel him in there right now?”
“Positive.”
His forehead comes to rest against mine, eyes closing. I know he’s angry and feeling more than helpless; I’m right there with him.
I reach up and cup his face. “I could hear you,” I tell him softly. “In the bathroom. I couldn’t move, couldn’t open my eyes, but I could hear you. I think you saved me, Jonah. I was slipping away and you woke me up and reminded me why I needed to keep fighting.”
His arms loop around my body and I’m held so tightly I can feel his muscles trembling. I want to reassure him that things are, in fact, okay now, but the truth is, I’m not so sure they are.
How can they be until Enlilkian is stopped?
Jonah and I don’t go to help move the Dane boys’ belongings to Kellan’s building (as even Zthane encouraged me to stay put, at least for the next day or so), but we do help them unpack while at the same time Jonah gathers up his own belongings to take upstairs. Kellan’s apartment has three large bedrooms, so both Cameron and Will get their own space now that Jonah is moving out. For his part, Kellan is silent as the boxes shift around; I think he and Jonah spend the better part of the few hours talking about what I admitted earlier in the day. This kind of behavior is old hat for Astrid and Callie, who are also over to help. They act as if nothing is amiss with two of our party remaining silent the entire time, whereas Cameron and Will are still struggling to get used to it.
It’s unnerving to be back in Kellan’s apartment, though; even more so knowing there is now a small, neat spiral staircase joining his home and mine. When Jonah first admitted to me that he’d bought the space above his brother, I hadn’t truly dreaded the proximity. There was an entire floor in between us; seeing one another would take time and planning, elevators and external staircases. I would have been constantly aware of him, yes—but it felt doable. Now, though, with the metal and wood staircase I created coiling between us, it feels much more difficult to let go gracefully, even though I desperately wish to.
And yet, as I shift boxes from the living room to one of the back bedrooms, I can’t help but peek through the cracked door that leads to Kellan’s bedroom. Memories flash throughout my mind, of time spent in there before we went to Costa Rica a year before. Of how his mouth felt like on mine. How my heart still calls out for him, no matter what my mind says. And of how I’m aware of him in every fiber of my
being when we’re in the same room together.
“You okay back here?”
Like right now, for instance. As if on cue, Kellan is standing just inches away, leaning against the wall as he studies me.
I jerk back, knocking the door open wider. I hate that I blush furiously, that he’s caught me peeking into his bedroom. Thank the gods he can’t feel me right now—or at least, I don’t think he can. I step to the side so his king size bed is no longer visible. “Thanks for letting Cameron and Will move in.”
A slow smile emerges, the half one that leaves me lightheaded. “It might be fun. I’ll never go hungry, you know?”
I laugh probably louder and stronger than is really needed.
He takes a step closer toward me. My back hits the wall; my breath stutters in my chest. “How are you really doing with all of this?”
My mouth sort of stupidly opens but no sound comes out. Gods, he smells so good, too. What is it with the Whitecomb boys always smelling good enough to eat?
“I don’t like not being able to feel you,” he murmurs. One of his hands hovers near my face before ever so gently sliding hairs that have freed themselves from my ponytail back behind my ear. “It’s unsettling.”
A door down the hallway swings open. Kellan’s hand drops to his side and he takes a step backward. Cameron wanders out, an empty cardboard box in his hands.
I step around Kellan and tell him, “Let me take that for you.” When Cameron goes to argue, I quickly add, “I’m feeling a little useless around here, you know? Like I’m the lazy one.”
“You just got out of the hospital,” Cameron says. “You’re entitled to be a little lazy.”
And yet, I can’t be lazy right now. I can’t let my guard down, especially when it concerns my feelings toward Kellan. And all of this—me and him here in the hallway—is so bittersweet that I know I can’t stay any longer. I’m too afraid of being weak. So, like a coward, I snatch the box from Cameron and bolt in the opposite direction.
“There you are, sweetling,” Astrid says as I enter the living room. “Would you mind going into the kitchen and helping Callie fix dinner?”