Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  Joy crashes through me, and I lose my breath as I begin to free-fall. I am beyond giddy.

  I am in love.

  Karl was so right. When you let go and allow the Connection to take place, it’s worth everything.

  “Did you miss me at all?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair. Goose bumps race across my skin.

  “You’d question that, after everything we’ve ever meant to one another?” he asks, exasperated. This isn’t a new sort of reaction from Jonah. Questions like this, he’d once insisted, should never be asked, because I should always trust in his feelings for me. And I hadn’t over the last two months. I’d been so stupid to even doubt him. “Of course. Every moment of every day.”

  “How did you discover the truth?”

  He smiles sheepishly; my heart to skips in delight. “A Seer told me. I sort of had a difficult time after losing you. The Old Man … my father … made me go to one to see if it’d get me back on track. She saw our Connection, told me you were real. I was shocked. All those years, I’d hoped and prayed you were, but I never really thought you could be. And then, when I learned you were out there, I couldn’t rest until I found you. I didn’t have much to go on, though. All the Seer could tell me was that you were a Magical, too. So it took me nearly four months to figure out your location.”

  I consider this. “Why didn’t you call me when you first figured it out?”

  “I wanted to. I actually had your number. But I thought it’d be better in person, that you might not believe me on the phone. So I manipulated my father into moving here.”

  I’d known this, but I still laugh, because this seems like such a Jonah thing to do. Over the years, I’d learned that when he gets his mind set on something, he can become very determined.

  His fingers trail down my cheek. “When I first saw you—”

  “There was a shift,” I supply, grinning.

  He nods, smiling slyly. “Three. Don’t think I didn’t count them.”

  I laugh against his shoulder. “And where were yours?”

  “The day I found out you were real,” he says, and I squeal because I’m so surprised and pleased by this. “And then on the day I found where you were.”

  “So why three for me?” He shrugs, unconcerned. So I prompt, “You were saying …? When you first saw me?”

  “It was like I’d finally come home,” he says, and I melt. But then he adds more seriously, “It wasn’t easy staying away, not after finding you. I have to admit, I nearly lost hope recently … I began to wonder if maybe I’d been the only one who’d ever felt the Connection.”

  “No, no, no,” I insist, holding him tight against me, willing him to feel our bond, strong as always. “Jonah, I am so sorry. To think I could have lost you, due to—”

  “Don’t.” Tiny stress lines cross his forehead. “I don’t want to do that conversation right now. I don’t want to fight so soon after getting you back.”

  I desperately want to talk to him about the last few months, to explain myself as best I can. I don’t want this to be something that festers between us any longer, but I hold back like he asks. He’s not ready to hear it. Or maybe he already knows a lot of it anyway, thanks to his brother. Maybe he doesn’t even want to know, ever.

  Instead, I tell him, “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me, too,” he says gently against my neck. And then his lips are there, so soft against my skin. My heart is ready to break through my rib cage. One more kiss grazes where my neck and shoulder meet before I remember we’re not alone.

  It takes all my focus to tell him we’re being watched. He pulls away to look around. “By whom?”

  “Two Guard. Both Faerie.”

  His eyes scan the trees around us as he slides a hand off my back so he can dig his cell out of his pocket. But he doesn’t let go of me, and I’m glad for it. “Karl?” he says into the phone. “Chloe and I are going to my house. Let your Guards know that no one is allowed inside for the next several hours. If I find them in there, I’ll put them asleep so fast they won’t know what hit them.”

  I laugh against his shoulder.

  “I’m talking about you and Giules, too,” Jonah continues. He listens to Karl for a moment. “Fine. You two or these Faeries or whomever else it is you expect to watch us can do it from outside, preferably from the inside of a car.” Then he turns his phone off and slips it back into his pocket. “Ready?”

  “How,” I ask, absolutely amazed, “do you get away with ordering him around like that?”

  He grins. Gods, I love that dimple. “Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other for a long time. And maybe it’s because he knows I don’t make idle threats.”

  “You can do that? Put someone to sleep? Have you put him to sleep before?”

  “I can and I have. It’s best to deal with Karl Graystone in a way where he’s forced to respect your ideas and wishes.” He shrugs, and I marvel at his confidence. It’s so fricking sexy.

  “What’s it like living with Giuliana?”

  His fingers tighten around mine. “She’s a pretty typical Guard, takes her job seriously and all that. She likes to torture me with foreign girly movies all the time. You don’t know how often I go to bed early just to escape them. There’s a small perk, though—she’s a pretty good cook, being Italian and all. But she hovers. It can be annoying, even though I like her a lot.”

  “I really dig Karl,” I admit. “But I hate having a babysitter and being told what to do, when to do it, and how it has to be done.”

  “I know,” he says sympathetically. “But it’s necessary, and only for the rest of the school year.”

  “Why does nobody believe I can take care of myself?”

  We reach his car. He takes both of my hands and says in a low voice, “I’m not sorry that Karl is there making sure you stay safe, Chloe. These things, these Elders—they’re a threat we need to take seriously.” I open my mouth to form a rebuttal, but he plays dirty by touching his fingers against my lips. Oh, my. “But, let’s not talk about that; at least, not now. I haven’t had you all to myself in a very long time, and I think that needs to be rectified, don’t you?”

  All I can do is nod and hope that my knees don’t give out.

  chapter 30

  The Whitecombs’ house is a large bungalow, dark brown in color and at least three stories. This is my first time inside—for all the months that Kellan and I dated, I’d always insisted we hang out at my house. I’d been afraid to running into Jonah then—which, upon reflection, was the most ridiculous, illogical fear ever.

  The house is excessively neat, with precious few knick-knacks and photos. In fact, there’s only one photograph in the entire living room, up on the fireplace mantle. I pick it up as Jonah switches on a couple lights. It’s of a family of four, smiling for the camera. “Is this your mother?” I ask, pointing to an absurdly beautiful woman.

  He takes the picture out of my hand and stares at it for a moment, his face guarded. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I think we were maybe three here.”

  I wait for him to tell me more, maybe something about his dead mother, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads us to the back of the house and into a whitewashed kitchen. “Wow,” I say, looking around at the expansive space, “this is huge, like restaurant-sized. Does your dad like to cook?”

  He laughs, at ease once more, and pours us two glasses of water. “Uh, no. If we want to eat anything, we fix it ourselves or beg Giules to work her magic.”

  I sip my water and give him a flirty smile. “Ugh. I can’t cook at all.”

  We stand there smiling at each other, our fingers twiddling together on the countertop. I’m giddy just to be in his presence. And, because I want to see where he spends his time, peek at his CDs, look at his library—get all of the little information that will help solidify my knowledge of him—I ask, “Where’s your room?”

  He’s definitely amused. “Upstairs.”

  I spy a staircase right outside the kitchen doorwa
y. Without another word, I take off towards it. We race up the second floor, laughing and pushing each other out of the way. I make it through the first door on the right; Jonah follows not a second later, grabbing me around the waist. I hook a foot around his leg and we lose our balance and fall on the nearby bed, collapsing in gasps and giggles. It’s something we’d done dozens of times since we were little. I’d always found ways to slow him down—I never knew if it was because he lets me win or because I genuinely know how to outsmart him.

  “You’re such a bad cheat!” Jonah rolls onto his side to prop himself up on an elbow. “First the head start, and then pushing me out of the way. You never change.”

  I feel lighter than I have in a very long time. “I never cheat!” He lifts an eyebrow up, regarding me with such an unbelieving look that I crack up. “Like you didn’t know I’d try to slow you down on the way up here. You’re no better, though.”

  “You think?”

  I lean closer, savoring how my body is buzzing from being so near to his. “You showed up at school, leaving me to worry I was crazy, while you knew all the while exactly everything that was happening. Not to mention your own admission that you used your mojo on your father.”

  He pretends to consider this. “I guess you’re right about the last one. Although, couldn’t we just chalk that up to Fate and not cheats?”

  I sit up dramatically, rising to my knees on the bed. “Fate, my foot.” I like the easy banter between us, exactly as it’s always been. It’s like the last year and couple months have been erased.

  He also rises up on his knees. “Maybe I cheated a little, especially with how I came to be in this town. Can you blame me?”

  There’s this rush of intensity pumping throughout my entire body when he skims his hands lightly down my arms. “No,” I whisper, the teasing fading as I reach out to feel the softness of his sweater. He pulls me closer, and life as I know it ceases to exist.

  Fireworks explode in my head, all intense yellows, reds and oranges. This isn’t our first kiss, not by any long shot. It’s been way too long since the last, yet the distance makes this one all the better for it.

  I give myself over completely to the moment. I can’t focus on anything other than him and what he’s doing to me. He tastes so amazingly good. The way he kisses me is divine. I want him, in every way possible. And the things he does with his hands … It’s almost as if we literally can’t get enough of each other. I drop down onto the bed, pulling him with me. My hands snake up under his sweater, my fingers tracing patterns across his smooth skin. He shudders in a way that tells me he wants me just as much as I want him.

  And I do want him, with an intensity that is awe-inspiring.

  I don’t even know if I can explain it rationally, but I need to see if it’s the same for him. I reach out and hold his face in both of my hands. “Tell me what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling right now.”

  The dimple appears. It’s Chloe kryptonite. “Look for yourself.”

  The mere idea of surging with him is exciting. I’ve never seen the contents of his mind before, as I’d always been too paralyzed to even try in person and it wasn’t possible to do in dreams. I surge and am delighted to find a mirror of my own feelings: joy, passion, love and an absolute knowledge of being where he’s supposed to be.

  With me.

  It’s almost too much to handle, because I know I’m so damn lucky that he still feels this way about me. Because I love him so much it hurts.

  I can’t believe I risked losing him.

  I’m about to pull out of his mind when he threads his fingers into my hair, twirling ropes around his fingers. “Don’t leave yet,” he murmurs. And then, “Go farther. Deeper.”

  I do so, and then he surges, going equally as far in my mind as I’m in his. The intertwining—no, merging of our minds, and to my surprise, our souls, is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  It rocks my entire existence.

  There’s no flipping through memories, no looking for ideas or events. It’s all about our emotions, of how much we love each other and how inexplicably and tightly Connected we are to one another. I’m flying, every single part of my body singing and burning, and it’s all because of him. I don’t really have any prior experience to compare it to, but I’m pretty sure that whatever this is, it’s far, far better than sex ever can be. And this is in addition to the assumption that sex with Jonah would be amazing.

  We are kissing again, and it’s hotter than before. I want to drown in him, in what he makes my body and heart feel.

  Afterwards, I am breathless, incapable of words or even coherent thought for several minutes. He’s the same, so we end up simply staring into each other’s eyes. When my voice returns, I ask, “What was that?”

  “Us,” he says quietly before kissing me again, so softly. “Us together.”

  Is it a Connection thing? “My father has always said that it’s impossible for Magicals to surge at the same time, that minds and souls can’t handle such a thing.”

  He laughs quietly. “Well, I kind of doubt he would encourage such a thing. I mean, what kind of dad tells their daughter: Wanna hear about something you can do with your boyfriend that’ll literally blow your mind?”

  Did he just say boyfriend? Swoon! “Is that what I did? Did I blow your mind?”

  His answer is another soft laugh. He rolls onto his back, bringing me with him so I’m now looking down at his face.

  Suddenly, I feel a wild streak of possessiveness. “Have you ever done this with anyone before?”

  “And if I said yes?”

  I can’t even respond to that. I just sort of make a bunch of gasping sounds.

  He leans up to kiss me. “Chloe. Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, from what I’ve been told, it’s only possible to do with one person, only the absolute right person for you. The one you’re Connected to.”

  So it is a Connection thing. His words touch me in a deep, solid way. “Is that how you see me?”

  His answer is to kiss me senseless, which is a very good answer, indeed.

  Later on, I take a look around. “Is this your room?”

  “Yep,” he says, and I roll off of him to sit up.

  Jonah’s room, painted dark green, is much like the rest of the house: minimalist to the extreme. The only thing that sort of looks even remotely teenage-ish is a large print of a surfer hanging over his bed.

  I stand up and stretch. “I’m so glad I’m here with you right now. I can’t believe I’m in your bedroom.”

  He props himself up on his elbows. “I remember the first time I saw you, it seemed to take forever before you talked to me. Sort of like now, I guess. I worried for so long back then, too. I just had to keep holding out hope that you’d come to your senses.”

  I grin at him while randomly picking things up off his desk to look at. “I’ve never been able to come to my senses around you, Jonah.”

  He watches me move throughout his bedroom, studying even the smallest objects. Everything has a place in his room. His books and CDs are alphabetized. There are a few pictures sitting on his bookshelf. One is of Jonah, maybe ten years ago. I pick it up and tap the glass. “I remember this shirt you’re wearing. It was your favorite.”

  He comes up behind me and looks at the photo. “Hm. I don’t really remember it.”

  “I do,” I insist. He’d worn it a lot in our dreams when we were in first or second grade. “You know,” I say softly as I set the picture down, “I cried when you left.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes crinkled with concern. “I don’t ever want to be the reason you cry.”

  “Crying is in my nature. Good luck trying to change that.”

  His chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “I would never want to change you.”

  There’s another picture on his bookshelf, a fairly recent one of him and his brother. They’re standing on a beach, three surfboards propped up in the sand behind them. Kellan sports his typically sly grin, whi
le Jonah’s smile is more even.

  My chest grows heavy with guilt and confusion. “I’m not perfect. I think you know that pretty well by now.”

  “Is anyone?”

  And then, because his faith in me is so undeserved, I say in the tiniest voice possible, “What about what happened with your brother?”

  He tenses, but he doesn’t move away. Silence fills the room, and I hate waiting, hate not knowing what he’s thinking. But I won’t surge, because if he wants me to know something, he’ll tell me.

  Eventually, he says in a remarkably calm voice, “It’s like I said before. I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

  I’m wondering how in the worlds he can so easily forgive me when he adds, “You have a large heart, and I would’ve been surprised if you hadn’t found much to love in my brother.”

  Tears threaten to appear. “But … what about … ?”

  “Are you happy right now, being here with me?”

  “Of course.” I am beyond happy. Ecstatic is a much better word.

  “And would you say … that this is where you want to be?”

  It’s implied. Here, with him. “Absolutely.”

  “Then what I said earlier stands true—it’s enough for me at the moment.”

  I do as he asks and let it go for now.

  chapter 31

  Giuliana brings Karl to Jonah’s house close to midnight. My Guard friend is insisting he drive me home at such a late hour. Neither of them asks why I’m with Jonah when they come in, nor do they seem surprised.

  We stand in the kitchen, discussing recent intel they’ve received. “There was a special Council meeting yesterday,” Karl says as Giuliana rummages around the fridge. “Let me tell you, after Oliver Crocus presented all of Alex’s findings, there was a shitstorm of screaming and accusations about why it took a seventeen-year-old to figure this out instead of a whole department of Intellectuals.” He gives me a wry smile. “Your dad got his ass chewed out big time.”