Of course he does.
“And you feel like running—”
Damn he’s good.
“But as uncomfortable as this will be for you, I promise it’ll be okay.”
When we stand up, Lizzie and Graham suddenly find five convenient excuses as to why they need to be elsewhere. Kellan shakes his head when he stops in front of us. “Wow. Can I clear a crowd or what?”
I quickly interject, “I don’t think that’s—” But Jonah squeezes my hand and I stop talking.
“How was the trip?” he asks in a superbly mild voice.
Kellan answers, sounding exactly the same, “As well as can be expected.”
“Aunt Hannah?”
Kellan shrugs, still looking relaxed. “The Old Man has been dispatched.”
And then they fall maddeningly silent, both hiding behind dark sunglasses that make it impossible to determine if they’re even looking at one another.
I wait out the silence for a full minute, spending the bulk of my time shuffling from one foot to the other. It’s a painful silence, punctuated every so often by Jonah’s fingers tightening against mine and the occasional sigh from one or the other. Not able to deal with the vacuum, I tentatively offer, “Um, guys . . . ?” Jonah squeezes my hand again, this time purposefully. He’s asking me to not speak. I give it a good three minutes before I can’t help myself. “What’s going on right now?”
Kellan cracks the smallest of smiles. “And why wouldn’t I?”
But he’s not saying it to me . . . so . . . what does that mean?
Jonah snaps, “Leave her out of this.”
Her? Her who? Does he mean me? “What are you two talking about?” I demand.
The tiny smile slips off Kellan’s face. “Whatever.” When he finally acknowledges me, it’s only to say, “See you later, C,” before strolling off.
And Jonah is no help, refusing to explain what just happened.
Two periods later, I’m trying to shove books into my locker, but I pretty much only succeed at knocking them out. And when I bend down to pick one up that smashed my toes, another book falls, smacking me squarely on the head. I fear I’m about to set off a massive explosion when a hand reaches out to pick up the novel. Startled, I jerk up, slamming my head on the locker door.
Kellan is holding out my book. “Your head okay?”
No. It’s stinging like bloody hell in two spots, which I’m certain he knows about because my pain levels are off the charts. I snatch the book. “It’s fine.”
He gingerly touches one of the rapidly growing welts, and the pain subsides. Despite so much in me wanting to step into that concern and allow it envelop me, I physically will myself to take a step back. He drops his hand, asking, “How are you today?”
I stop rubbing my head. “How am I today?”
His half grin appears. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s usually an acceptable form of greeting between people nowadays, especially those who know each other well.”
Ugh. I am so flustered. “What are you up to?” I accuse, shoving a book into my backpack. Getting my eyes off him is good, even though the pull toward him is as strong as ever. How can that be? I’d felt it this morning during the silent stare-off, but it didn’t feel half as strong as it does at the moment.
“I was asking you how you’re doing today.”
I zip up the backpack. “Peachy, thanks.”
“Good,” he says, and it’s done in such a way that I have no other choice than to meet him directly in his eyes.
He’s so gorgeous today I can barely stand it. And that only confuses me more, and drives up the already sky-high levels of guilt. “I . . . uh . . . need to go to class now.”
It takes a tremendous effort, but I manage to turn to leave. But two steps away, he grabs my arm and says in an achingly vulnerable voice, “Wait.”
So, I wait.
“I’m sorry about the way I acted last night,” he murmurs. “I really shouldn’t have walked away like that.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize about.” I’m ashamed when my voice cracks halfway through.
His voice drops even lower as he steers us back towards the lockers. “I expected bad news when I sensed Jonah wasn’t angry anymore. I just . . . I guess I didn’t expect to hear what you used to rationalize your choice.”
I think back to the conversation, and the guilt flares brighter. “I’m so sorry—”
He winces. “Don’t. I didn’t say that to get an apology, Chloe.”
I look up into his blue eyes, dark and troubled and so out of place on his otherwise calm face. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” I whisper hoarsely. “I’d give anything to make this painless for . . . for all of us.”
He looks off into the distance. “I’m mad, Chloe. I’m so pissed off right now. And hurt. And a thousand other emotions I didn’t ever think I’d feel.”
Cue my tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, Kellan.”
“I can’t do this today, because I can barely think straight, but . . . I’d like it if we can talk later, because . . . I know how you feel. About me.”
I nod, blinking back the tears. “Okay. Just . . . let me know when . . . .” And like a fool, I take a step closer, unable to resist the pull toward him any longer. He is confused, wary . . . and yet also unable to resist the pull, because he tentatively reaches out his hand and touches my face so lightly, I wonder if the fingers are even there or not. So I lean against his hand, allowing the tingle that always accompanies his touch to take root in my skin, proving there can be a very distinct disconnect between mind and body.
Because the little voice is shrieking at me to take a step back and run as fast as I can in the opposite direction, for Kellan is not my boyfriend any longer, and he shouldn’t be allowed to touch me like this whether or not my body likes it.
His hand drops away. “You don’t want to be late.”
I slam head first into a wall of confusion.
Kellan bends down and picks up my backpack. He hands it over wordlessly before turning around and walking away.
In the seventeen years I’ve known Cora Carregreen, she’s missed school exactly three times, and all three were in the last two months when we went to Annar and had to skip due to being chased by the Elders. During this time period, I’ve also learned that Cora never ignores her cell phone, not even in class, when she puts it on vibrate and finds ways to sneak peeks at texts and call logs. So, by lunchtime, when no one has been able to get ahold of her, I am officially worried.
“This isn’t like her,” Lizzie is saying. “Why isn’t she calling back? Or answering in the first place?”
“Babe,” Graham says soothingly, “are you sure you don’t remember her saying she wasn’t coming to school? Maybe she’s gone off to that . . . er . . . place you guys go to?”
Innocent comments like this really stress Jonah out.
“No!” Lizzie practically wails. “I would remember her telling me that!” And then she holds the phone up and shows it to me. “Fifteen calls, Chloe. Fifteen.”
I pull out my own phone and set it on the table. “I’ve called five times myself.”
“Graham,” Lizzie says, her long ponytail whipping as she turns to him. “Call her. Now. Maybe she’ll answer you.”
Graham clearly doubts this wisdom, but does as he’s asked.
Jonah, who has so far been silent through Lizzie’s ravings, calls Giuliana, asking her to go to Cora’s house to check on her. And then it hits me.
What Karl has warned me about.
Why Cora’s been partially under his protection for the last two months, too.
“You don’t think . . . .” I say, panic rising, but Jonah cuts me off.
“We don’t know anything yet,” he says in a low voice. “She could be at home, asleep.”
I can barely choke out, “They sometimes target the people closest to . . . to . . . .”
Jonah pulls me close, kissing my temple. “Let’s just wait until Giules calls bef
ore sounding the alarm, okay?”
I nod, having to bite on my lip to not say anything else.
Lizzie’s knee begins bouncing up and down, jarring our lunches. “So,” she says rather loudly. “So. What’s new with all of us? Is anything new with you two? Graham bought a new shirt yesterday. I picked it out. It’s nice.”
“She rambles when she’s upset,” I tell Jonah quietly.
Graham strokes Lizzie’s arm softly. “It’s a good shirt,” he says. “Plaid.”
“Plaid’s nice,” Jonah offers.
“I thought so, too,” Lizzie shrills. “It’s red. Red plaid is nice, right?”
I cannot believe we are talking about plaid shirts as a way to alleviate our worries. So I try another tactic. I ask Lizzie about her upcoming appointment with the regional Seer.
She’s still gripping her cell phone. “It’s Friday. I’ll have to miss the game. But it’s important to go, right? Because my road is changing?”
I’m assuming she’s referring to her relationship with a non. “I wish you luck,” I tell her sincerely. “Be sure to ask specific questions. I learned that from my visit.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Lizzie says. “I’d almost forgotten you saw one in Annar recently.”
“Really?” Jonah asks. “Was it Astrid?”
“Actually, yes,” I say, surprised. “Do you know her?”
“I do. She’s my . . . a close family friend.”
Lizzie leans in closer, intrigued and thankfully distracted enough her knee stills. “I’ve never met a Seer, except, of course, the day I was born. What’s this Astrid like?”
“She was kind,” I admit, wondering if I ought to admit she was also very unhelpful to Jonah, who’s already made mention of knowing her well. I decide not to, instead adding, “She’s an Elf.”
“You know, I’d never even seen one before until the Storyteller.” She turns to Jonah. “How do you know this Astrid?”
He shoves the French fries on his plate around. “Astrid lives on the same street I grew up on.”
“But she’s an Elf,” Graham says, confused. “Don’t they look different than . . . well, us?”
“Not really,” Lizzie supplies. “They’re somewhat taller, more elegant in a way. Their faces are a bit longer, their eyes a bit more slanted. But I can see how she’d blend in.” To Jonah, she says, “Continue.”
I nearly laugh, because I’m pretty positive Jonah hadn’t the slightest intention after his first explanation to continue anything further. But he does, more to me than my friends. “After my mother died, Astrid sort of took pity on Kel and me. I guess you could say she’s a surrogate mother of sorts.”
Why don’t I know this? “Do you still talk to her, despite moving?”
“She calls pretty much like clockwork every other day. And whenever I’m in Annar and she’s there, too, we see each other.”
I think back to the woman I’d met, and how I’d thought, when she’d hugged me, how warm and motherly she’d been. “She was really nice.”
“She is,” he agrees.
“Was Astrid the Seer you saw, the one who told you about me?”
“No. It would’ve been a conflict of interest having her view me.” His cell phone goes off, prompting all of us to go silent. “It’s not Giules,” he reassures us. Then he stands up and kisses me on the head. “I’ll be right back.”
Of course, the moment he steps away is the moment Kellan enters the cafeteria with some pretty girl I don’t know too well. She’s flirting like crazy, her hand resting far too long on his arm or her hair brushing against his shoulder too often when she leans in to say something. I watch them in blatant perverse fascination until she touches his hair. The white-hot urge to tear her own shiny hair out by the roots rips through me like a wildfire. Kellan disentangles himself from the girl. He does not look in my direction.
You realize he felt that, the little voice grumbles. Might as well have stood up and waved a red flag.
Kellan excuses himself and then heads my direction. I hold my breath, wondering just what I can say to even explain that completely irrational moment just now, but he passes right by me without a single glance and exits the glass doors facing the courtyard. He goes directly to Jonah, who shoves his phone into his pocket.
“What happened this morning?” Lizzie demands.
I continue watching the twins as I answer her. “They stood staring at each other in silence for nearly five minutes. It was bizarre.”
“Just staring?” Lizzie asks. “No talking?”
Jonah and Kellan are talking now, standing so close I can tell no one outside can hear a word they’re saying. They appear to be simply having a normal conversation until Jonah raises a finger and points it at his brother. Kellan shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Jonah jabs the finger at Kellan a few more times, not speaking anymore, either. And then he takes three steps towards the cafeteria, stops, and turns back to Kellan. And then they just stare at each other for a long moment.
“I think I see what you mean about the no-talking thing,” Lizzie says. “Graham? Is this normal male behavior?”
Startled to be lumped into the grouping, he asks, “What?”
“Never mind,” she mutters.
The moment Jonah gets back to the table, his phone goes off again. “Oh, for the love of . . . .” he swears softly under his breath. But once he sees the Caller ID, his entire expression changes. “It’s Giuliana,” he says, and we are all instantly alert.
“Hey, Giules—what? Was her mother there? How can she have no idea . . . .?” Jonah pauses, listening intently. “No, we’re all fine. Yes, Kellan is still here . . . .” He pauses again, and when a fleeting look of concern races across his face, the panic in me doubles.
“Strategically, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jonah says. “I think our chances are better here at school. I can’t see them attacking us with such a huge crowd. It doesn’t fit their profile.”
Attacking? Oh. My. Gods. He’s talking about the Elders.
“They went after you on the road,” Lizzie whispers, obviously thinking the same thing I am. “There were cars and witnesses everywhere.”
Kellan appears at our table, his hand stretched out. Jonah surprises me by placing the phone in it, no questions asked.
Okay, how did Kellan know about the phone call . . . ?
“What was the last time Cora was seen?” he asks Jonah before putting the phone to his ear.
“Seven,” Jonah answers.
Kellan covers the phone and says flatly to his brother, “I don’t give a shit if the sky is falling, next time you tell me right away.”
Jonah levels a long, pointed look at Kellan.
“That’s not an excuse,” Kellan continues. “And you know it. May I point out how ballistic you would’ve been if it’d been me who neglected to tell you?”
“Just talk to her already,” Jonah says, motioning toward the phone.
“What was that?” I ask Jonah while Kellan grills Giules. “Do you two speak in twin code?”
“Twin code?” Jonah repeats, eyes on his brother.
“You know,” Lizzie interrupts. “Studies say some identical twins have their own languages.”
“Uh, sure,” Jonah says. Then he says to Graham, “Will you go and get Meg and Alex? They’re in the library right now.”
“How do you know this?” I ask as Graham bounds away.
“Alex is in Kellan’s math class,” Jonah says, as if this answers the question. “Honey, I’m sorry—but let me concentrate on the phone call right now.”
Lizzie and I exchange a confused glance as Kellan is basically just mm-hmming now.
As soon as Kellan hangs up the phone, Jonah says, “I disagree.”
Kellan sighs. “It’s the best plan, and you know it.”
Jonah shakes his head slowly, looking at his brother the entire time.
“It’s you or me,” Kellan says after a long moment. “And I’m assuming you’d rath
er let hell freeze over before letting me do it. But hey, I’m happy to—”
“You know that’s not the issue,” Jonah says tightly.
Kellan cracks a tiny smile. “Shall I remind you that you’re also under an order of protection, too?”
“Oh, for gods’ sakes,” Jonah mutters. “Are you serious?”
Kellan merely looks at his brother for a long moment.
“Fine,” Jonah grinds out.
“Hold on,” I say, forcing myself in between the two of them. “I have no idea what you two are talking about, but can one of you fill me in on what’s happening with Cora?”
“What she said,” Lizzie seconds. Graham reappears with Alex and Meg.
“Chloe and Jonah are going to Annar as soon as Karl gets here,” Kellan says.
I turn to Jonah. “Why?”
He tells me, “It’s the safest place for you to be right now.”
This is not good. “What are you not telling us?”
“Cora is officially missing,” Kellan supplies. “She hasn’t been seen since this morning when she left for school. Since there’s also been an Elder sighting called in within the last three hours—”
“Why haven’t we heard about this sooner?” Alex demands.
“Because,” Kellan says, annoyed, “orders came down that it might be safer to keep Chloe inside the school.”
“So what changed?” Alex presses. “Why the trip to Annar now?”
“Cora’s missing,” Jonah answers. “Keep up here, Alex.”
“Are you going, too?” Meg asks Kellan. “Are you leaving us?”
“No,” Kellan tells her. “I’m staying behind to make sure the rest of you stay safe here at school.”
Meg sags in relief. Alex, on the other hand, looks put out by her lack of faith in his protective abilities.
“Raul is coming in,” Kellan continues, more to the rest than to me. “He and Giules will start searching for Cora immediately. Karl and I will join up as soon as we can.”
“Wouldn’t it be smarter to use us to search for Cora, too?” I ask.
Apparently, I am the only one who thinks this a good idea, because every single person, including Graham—who, it ought to be pointed out, has no idea what’s really going on—looks at me like I’m speaking in tongues.
A Matter of Fate Page 29
