A Matter of Truth (Fate Series 3)

by Heather Lyons

  We stand in the kitchen in silence for a long time. A lot of questions circle round my head, but I don’t know if I have a right to ask any of them. I don’t know where I stand with Kellan at the moment. He’s my Connection, yes. I still love him, yes. But I abandoned him and hurt him and have decided, once and for all, that I want to spend my life with his brother, even if his brother wants nothing to do with me.

  And if he’s reading my emotions, he must know that. Right?

  “When I was gone,” I finally say. “Did you two . . . were you close again?”

  He’s twisting the cuff on his wrist. “We live under the same roof nowadays, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m glad that they’re together again, but . . . it also means that Jonah’s no longer living in our old home. And yet, my apartment is apparently still there waiting for me if I want it.

  “Are you . . .” I wonder if I even have a right to ask. “How are you?”

  He looks over my shoulder. “Part of me wants to not tell you. Walk right through the door and leave you wondering like you left me for months. I knew you weren’t dead—being the son of somebody who lost his Connection due to death, I know what that can do to a person—but I didn’t know. And that’s messed up, Chloe.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “It’s also fucked up because, during those times in which I was so angry I wanted to break everything in my apartment, I also eventually came to the realization it’s exactly what I did to you, too. I may not have run away without a word, but for eight months, I left you in the dark.”

  I stretch out a hand—not to touch him, which I ache to, but because I need him to stop this. “Do not turn this around on yourself. If anyone is apologizing today, it’s me.”

  “You tore me apart when you left,” he says. “It wasn’t the first time. I doubt it’ll be the last. But here’s the thing. I’ve learned to live without you in my life over the last few years. You and I, we’ve done this dance far too often. I hold you at an arm’s length, we come together, and vice versa. It’s . . .” He shakes his head sadly. “I think if we ever went to see a shrink, they’d say we’re completely dysfunctional.”

  I focus on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

  “You tore me apart,” he continues, “but you absolutely gutted my brother.”

  The tears that minutes before I thought were gone forever find their way home after all.

  “I’m not saying that to shame you, because I think we all know that you carry more guilt in you than most people could ever bear.” He passes me a paper towel so I can mop up my face and blow my nose. “I’m telling you this because I think you need to know.”

  Will breathing ever be an easy task again? I tell Kellan, “He’s done with me.”

  I try not to disintegrate when Kellan doesn’t disagree.

  “Earth to Chloe.”

  I flinch from Will’s snapping fingers. He sighs and drops down next to me. “You need to eat.”

  “Not hungry,” I say, eyes dropping back to the dossier on my lap, the one Zthane passed over this afternoon after Kellan left. He forgave me for not coming in last night, but says we—the both of us—are going out on a mission soon. Tomorrow, as a matter of fact. I need to be all about the mission. Find Elders. Kill Elders. Stop Elders from killing more Magicals, both loved and stranger alike.

  I’ve just gotten off the phone with Caleb. It was weird, calling my former Conscience on the phone, but I figured I owed him an apology for shutting him out like I did. He was . . . livid. Yelled at me for a good ten minutes straight before finally relenting and admitting he missed me. And then we talked, really talked. I told him all about my reasons and my choices, and the funny thing is, Caleb understood where I was coming from. Before we hung up, he promised to come and visit me within the week. He also told me that, once the link between a Conscience and its ward is broken, it’s forever broken. From here on out, we’re nothing more than friends.

  It was yet another hurt to add to my growing list of How Chloe Royally Fucked Up This Time.

  Will slides the folder away, flipping it shut. “Believe it or not, Dad is on the phone with that woman—Astrid? They’re chatting. My father is on the phone, and he’s chatting with a woman. I cannot be out there listening to this any longer.” He eyes me warily. “Have you called him?”

  I blink and try to focus on Will’s face. How had I never seen the Elvin features in him before? Was it just because I didn’t want to? “Your dad?”

  He rolls his eyes. “No. You know I mean Jonah.”

  Something inside me breaks again. I shake my head slowly. “He doesn’t want me to call. He made it clear that he’s done with me.”

  Will’s dubious. “You two have a Connection.”

  “We also apparently have free will. Jonah,”—each syllable of his name is a jagged shard of glass against the tender yet still beating muscle in my chest—“exercised his right to choose whether or not he wants to be with me.”

  He sighs heavily through his nose. “I don’t think that’s the case. I think it’s more—you hurt him. He’s reacting.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. Not today, at least. We should be overlooking the mission specs.” I snatch the folder back from him.

  “Out of curiosity, why aren’t you with Kellan?”

  The folder turns heavy in my hand. “What?”

  “When you first told me about these guys, and how you cheated on Jonah with his brother, I’ve gotta be honest, I assumed you were with Jonah out of a misplaced sense of obligation and habit. It was Kellan I thought you really loved. But . . .” His hand falls on top of mine. “Here you are, single. He’s single. I saw you guys earlier. He’s so in love with you that it’s amazing he can even stand upright. You’re pretty keen on him, too. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to at least try to see what things would be like with him?”

  Ah. Which is what I think Kellan hopes for, too. Or at least, it’s what I saw in his eyes when he left, even though he must have sensed how I felt about him, about his brother. We didn’t hug—it would’ve been too much, too soon. But that sharp tug between Connections was there, strong as ever, and when he walked out of my door, the instinct to go after him and kiss him senseless nearly smothered me.

  “I love Jonah,” I tell Will. My voice is hollow, which makes sense, as it’s how I’m feeling right now. But it’s okay. Because I’m going to go out and kick some ass and kill some Elders and I’ll find ways to fill up that hole. I have to.

  Most of the team is already waiting at an airstrip in Novosibirsk, Siberia. A Cyclone I don’t know (apparently Raul is on an extended vacation) will be piloting us to the remote region the Elders have been spotted in. Two Shamans I don’t know too well are there (Zthane wasn’t taking any chances), as well as a pair of Blazes (Brock and Vance?) and a female Elemental I don’t know. Outside of Karl, Will, and myself, the last member of the team is Kellan, which does not make me happy in the least. I argued for a good ten minutes with Zthane and Karl over his participation, but outside of me claiming I worried my Connection could get hurt, I had no real ground to stand on when it came to dismissing him from the team.

  “Emotionals have always been successful controlling the Elders,” Zthane reasoned repeatedly. “You know me. Besides, Kellan’s the best we have on the Guard. Of course he’s coming.” The thing is, I understood where Zthane was coming from, and agreed even, but the thought of Kellan getting hurt made me want to destroy things.

  I caved in the end and agreed to his addition to the team, but it’s definitely left me on edge. This, coupled with the sharp pain of losing Jonah once more has me antsy and admittedly far too bitchy. Will and Karl bear the brunt of my constant snapping fairly serenely as we exit the airport, inside of which the portal is conveniently hidden, and onto the tarmac, but I guess I step on one too many toes because Will finally says, “Time to sheath the claws, Chloe, lest you want the entire team to think you�
��re on your period.”

  “That is incredibly sexist of you, Will,” I snarl in return.

  Karl laughs, but I don’t. Just what if today goes badly? Lee’s told us there are four Elders in the region, and with a team this large, the odds are stacked in our favor. But I can’t help but worry that something will go wrong, that somehow those things will get the best of me and take me out, leaving the rest of the team defenseless out in the wilderness of Siberia.

  Must. Stay. Focused.

  Which means, of course, I wonder what Jonah is doing right now, where he is, how he’s dealing with everything. I laid down the law with Zthane last night that, while I was caving and allowing Kellan to come, there was no way in hell I’d approve both Whitecombs on the mission. He tried for it, of course he did—the twins have proved to be highly effective together against the Elders in the past. But if I had to contend with attempting to protect both of them and Jonah’s snubbing all at the same time while trying my best to kill these monsters, I don’t know if I could do it. It’s bad enough Will’s here, being so perilously fragile in his non-Magical state (not that I’d ever admit that out loud to him, though) but Zthane figured that, after being so effective against the Elders in the last two fights, Will should come because he has experience against these monsters that nobody else on the team, save me and Karl, have.

  “According to Erik, there’s a small Métis colony about two hundred miles south,” Karl tells me as we approach the military plane the Guards has absconded for the mission. “So I don’t think we can term this Elder sighting as random.”

  “Shite,” Will mutters. He adjusts his sunglasses in the bright morning light. “How many?”

  “Colonists or Elders?” When Will indicates the Métis, Karl continues, “Four families—like I said, small, but no number is small enough when you have these things gunning for them.”

  “There was an attack, wasn’t there?” Will asks quietly.

  Karl sighs heavily, his mouth a bleak line. And then he nods.

  My stomach heaves. “Anybody hurt?”

  Karl readjusts the straps of his backpack and stares straight ahead. “Three-year-old twins and their mother were in the car that the Elders targeted. Only the little girl made it—her brother and mom are dead thanks to these monsters, not to mention a family of four that were nons in a nearby car.”

  “Christ,” Will whispers.

  “They were first generation Métis,” Karl tells us as he waves at the pilot in the distance. “Erik says the Métis governing bodies believe that the closer the bloodlines are to Magicals, the more likely they become targets. These kids—” He shakes his head swiftly. “Their mom left Annar about a decade ago for their dad. She was a lower level Elemental. And now there’s a little girl who doesn’t have her mom or her twin.”

  I can’t even wrap my mind around such a tragedy. This needs to stop. People—Magicals, Métis, and nons alike—should be safe from these monsters. And I’m reminded of a promise I made long ago, to Earle Locust-tree, who’d lost his husband to the Elders and then was attacked by them himself. And now he’s gone, along with the rest of the team that fought to protect me, and I’m left with the promise that I wouldn’t give up trying to stop these monsters.

  I hope to do him proud today.

  Maybe it’s because I’ve been removed from Annar for awhile, and maybe it’s because, other than with Callie Lotus, I haven’t really been around such a situation before, but I’m shocked at the level of hostility and distrust coming from the team inside the plane that’s angled toward Will. Well—not from Kellan, who isn’t here yet, since he’s en route directly from another mission nearby, but from the rest of the team, yes. They’re regarding Will with wary eyes, whispering to one another like his presence is unwanted and unnecessary. Every so often I catch snatches of what they’re saying; ugly words about how he’s a non, a freak, how his presence is most likely some kind of appeasement offering toward me, float throughout the belly of the plane.

  It’s infuriating, not to mention insulting. I would never have been able to do what I’ve done without Will’s help and guidance.

  For his part, Will pretends to ignore them, although I know it’s got to be driving him crazy. He sits in the web seat next to me, settling the sword I’ve made him in between his legs so he can swing it around in a wide arc as we chat about our friends back in Alaska.

  I try to follow his lead, but when I hear some kind of innuendo about how he must surely be some kind of toy I picked up while out “sowing my wild oats,” I can’t hold my fury back any longer. “What the hell are your problems?” I shout.

  The plane goes deathly quiet. Karl and the Cyclone (I think his name is Flip?) stick their heads out of the cockpit, from where they’d been discussing the flight plan.

  Will’s hand finds my arm. His voice is flat when he says, “Don’t bother.”

  “What’s going on?” Karl demands. But he knows. I can tell by the look on his face he already knows what has me pissed off.

  I don’t care what Will thinks. How they’re acting, what they’re saying—it’s wrong. “This is the team you guys picked for me?” I’m practically seething as Karl and Flip fully enter the body of the plane. “These are the people you think I can trust?”

  “Who does this little girl think she is?” snarls the Elemental I don’t know.

  Before Karl can say anything, I stand up, pressing a hand against the side of the plane. “I’m the person who will get your sorry ass demoted to some desolate city to work on thunderstorms for the rest of your life if you don’t watch your mouth.”

  She stands up, too, clearly pissed off. “I don’t answer to you.”

  “Lola, sit down.” Karl’s tone leaves no room for bargaining on her end.

  It’s at that moment that Kellan boards the plane, his hair messy from the wind and dark circles ringing his eyes from what was no doubt precious little sleep in his effort to make it here on time. “Sorry I’m—” The tug between us is sharp and sudden. His focus lands on me, those gorgeous blue eyes of his widening in surprise. And then they narrow as they turn to Karl. “What is Chloe doing here?”

  “This is my question,” Lola snarls. She’s got full-on bitch face going. “Because this Council princess thinks she can—”

  Kellan’s eyes flash with anger. “Don’t even think of finishing that sentence, Lola.”

  Shocked, Lola finally does as Karl says and sits down.

  But I’m done with this. How is this going to play if they’re going to be fighting me and Will the whole way? “If this is how it’s going to be,” I say to Karl, “then get me Zthane on the phone right now so I can tell him to send this group of jackasses straight back to Annar. I don’t need them.” A quick glance at Will has me correcting that. “We don’t need them.”

  Karl rubs at his hair. I know he’s in a difficult position, but my nerves, so freshly raw from the return to Annar, won’t let this go. “You know having a team gives us our best shot.”

  “Really?” I let out an ugly laugh. “That’s funny, because Will and I did just fine on our own.”

  Will groans in frustration, but before he can say anything, Kellan steps in between us. “Can we all just calm down a minute so we can figure out what’s going on here? Chloe, what are you talking about?”

  The Electric sitting next to Lola—Vance, I think—says in this awful, condescending tone, “Dude. She brought a non on the mission.”

  Will’s finally had enough, because he finally wades in. “Wow. Karl, I’m going to concur with Chloe. Bigoted prats will not help us no matter how good you say they are.”

  “Not. Another. Word,” Karl snaps at Vance. And then, to the rest of the team, “The next person who speaks out of turn will be physically removed from this plane, mission, and most likely the Guard. Councilwoman Lilywhite was absolutely right in her statement that she can have any of your sorry asses demoted at any point. I’m sorry that we did not make it clear prior, due to security reasons, but
Councilwoman Lilywhite runs this mission. What she says, goes. You have a problem? There’s the door.”

  That gets their attention.

  “You were informed that this was an Elders mission—that much is true,” Karl continues. “Four hostiles were spotted in the region as early as twelve hours prior by Lee Acacia. However, you were not given the true mission specs. This is not merely recon.” Flip slips out from behind him and sits down on the other side of Will, which is relief. If he shows he has no problem with Will being here, then maybe the rest of the team will take pause.

  Karl crosses his arms, his tone completely no-nonsense now. “Before we discuss them, there’s something that needs to be made clear. This is a top-secret assignment. No details of any part of what transpires today may be revealed to any person outside of this aircraft.” He lifts his chin briefly toward Kellan, tapping his forehead. “No one else is cleared for this. No one. Understood?”

  Kellan’s eyes widen again in surprise. Karl’s ordering him to not even tell Jonah, not even their way, in their heads. But he nods and offers his assent, just as every other person on the plane does, but it’s me he chooses to focus on.

  I try not to squirm in my seat under his intense gaze, because with this group, I need to stay strong. The Guard will annihilate the feeblest members of their teams, because to them, weakness is not an option in the field.

  “Another thing that needs to be made clear,” Karl is saying, “is that you, in no way, will spew any more of that prejudiced crap toward Will Dane. His participation in this mission is vital, and it has nothing to do with Councilwoman Lilywhite’s wishes. Both Nightstorm and I have determined that his expertise in this arena is critical toward our success today.” He pauses, then delivers the next line with deft precision. “I have never been as ashamed of any team of mine as I am at this moment.”