“Tell me,” Kellan presses, “when you attacked our kind—you personally, not your band of fellow merry murderers—did you target whatever powerful Magical was around, or did you hunt out exactly the right one you needed?”
Bios says nothing.
“Kellan, don’t,” Jonah suddenly hisses. “Not now.”
“Why not?” Kellan asks. “Shouldn’t we all be aware of what’s sitting at our table?”
I’m uneasy with his hostility. “What are you talking about?”
He ignores me, as does Jonah. Instead they launch immediately into one of their silent conversations. Minutes go by before Kellan opens his mouth and says, voice as cold and hard as ice, “Cannibalism is a nasty thing.”
“What’s this about cannibalism?” Iolani asks. Her fork is on the plate, too. Seems nobody is interested in bacon any longer.
Bios meets Kellan’s gaze dead on. “To answer your question, Empath—yes. When I consumed someone’s essences, it was always for my own benefit.”
“How many Shamans do you think you’ve killed or wounded?” Kellan asks carefully, and then it hits me.
Cora. Bios is the one who attacked and nearly killed Cora back when we were in high school.
“I don’t remember,” Bios says, yawning. “I have no need to tally such a thing. Do you tally the numbers of fowl you consume? Or the ones you have inspired to march into death unknowingly?”
Oh my gods. Cora.
My vision blurs hazy red. I can’t even begin to think straight.
I feel myself being helped out of the chair. Jonah says something, but I’m not hearing him. I’m thinking about my childhood friend, on the verge of death, her essence—what makes Cora Cora—stripped away until she was nearly dead. Of how she’d been left on the side of the road, bleeding out and unconscious. Of how she’d been a message to me: We can find you. We can take what you love.
And Bios had been the one to deliver the message. Here he is, my gift.
Enlilkian must have known we’d figure it out. That I’d discover the person, no, thing that protects me was responsible for nearly destroying the closest person I have to a sister. Cora had been there for me all my life, giving love and understanding, when my parents failed to do so. And because of me, she’d nearly lost her life. How did I repay her? By rewarding her would-be murderer with his old body, a replica of his home, and the promise of a swift and merciful death.
Every glass on the table explodes.
People are shouting, wondering what in the hell is going on, but I round on Bios immediately, fury pulsing through my veins.
“Chloe,” Jonah is saying, “you need to calm down. Take a breath. Count to ten.”
Bios holds his arms out wide, offering me no resistance. And then, as if he thinks better of it, extends one arm out to me, palm open. Like he simply expects me to take his hand and erase him.
It pisses me off like there’s no tomorrow.
He totally deserves it. He does. But ... I hesitate once more.
Disappointment swirls through his eyes. To Kellan, he says, “You may escort me back to my room now. I do not think I will join you at your table any longer.” He stands up, then says quietly, “Enlilkian’s rage must be overwhelming by now. Do not let others suffer. You know what must be done.”
And then he leaves.
“What the fuck do you think that accomplished, Kellan?”
We’re back in our room again, with Jonah and Kellan once more arguing. I choose instead to go sit down in front of my window that looks out on Rome. For all my rage at the table, I’m exhausted now.
“A lot, actually,” Kellan throws back. “Because I’m not going to hide anything from her just because it might be upsetting. My singular goal is to keep you two safe and alive. Locking her away in this hideaway can only go so far when we’ve got one of the murderers on the loose down here with us.”
“You are the one who chose to let him live!” Jonah’s furious. “You fought me on that!” He throws one of his stray shirts across the room. “J, we can use him. Talk to him. When will we get this chance again? Think about this logically. This is a golden opportunity.” He comes right up to his brother, sticking a finger in his chest. “Remember that? Remember how you kept insisting I was the irrational one?” He laughs bitterly. “Hypocritical, much?”
They’re arguing in complete sentences because I’d begged them to last night. And now ... now I wish they could go back to their old way.
“You want me to admit I was wrong? Fine, J! I was wrong. I should have encouraged Chloe to take that fucker out the moment we got in that room!”
Their anger hurts so very, very much to hear.
“You were right, though! We have learned things from him we didn’t already know!” Jonah’s hands dig into his hair and pull hard. I can practically taste his frustration across the room. “But Kellan, you didn’t need to make a Hollywood production about what you found out. You could have told us privately!”
“Seriously? That’s what you were worried about? Shit, bro—everyone needs to know that he’s not some kind of fucking rainbow teddy bear. He and his kind are vicious killers who want to take Chloe. And I’ll be damned if I let him lull her into a sense of false security, thinking she can trust him. She can’t. You and I know that very well.”
I’ve just about had enough of this. “Hey now—”
“I am handling the situation,” Jonah growls.
“Right. By keeping her and everyone else in the dark about Bios’ true nature.”
“Stop it.” I stand up, curl my hands into fists. “Both of you, stop it.”
But if they hear me, they don’t act like it. Because Kellan now steps into Jonah’s space, stabbing a finger into his brother’s chest. “I stepped back. I have done everything I can to make things easy for you two. But you do not get to tell me that I have no say in this. She is still my Connection. And even if you like to pretend she and I aren’t linked, we are. I may not be the one she’s going to marry, but I sure as hell am going to be the one who makes sure she stays safe.”
Oh my gods. I stumble forward, desperate to head this off as fast as I can. “Stop this right now.”
Jonah opens his mouth, but I slide my hands in between them and shove as hard as I can. They both go staggering back.
“Fighting isn’t going to solve anything,” I snap. “Fighting about this especially isn’t.”
It’s Kellan’s turn to try to talk, but I cut him off just as easily. “Look. I am not blind about this situation. I know what has to be done. But I can’t do it if all I’m doing is worrying about you two and whether or not you’re arguing.”
They just stare at me in shock.
I take a deep breath. Count to ten. Announce clearly, calmly, “We are leaving the bunker in the morning. There will be no further arguing about it. Understood?”
Before either can answer, I walk out the door, down the hallway, and into the bathrooms. I lock the door and flip the lid on the toilet so I can sit down. And then I stay there until my hands stop trembling.
Zthane didn’t argue with me about the need to go back home. Nobody really did, not after I shot the truth straight at them: hiding isn’t going to solve the Elders problem. Me getting out there and tracking this monster down will. And I am the one to break it to Bios. I tell him, “We are going to go back to Annar. You are going to be put in a cell at the Guard HQ. I am going to hunt down and wipe your father’s existence off the map.”
He nods, like he’s oddly proud of me. “The moment we go aboveground, remember I am beholden to my father’s desires again. He will find you as long as I know where you are.”
That’s okay. Actually, that’s more than okay with me.
I tell him, “Good.”
When I get home, before I go and see Cameron and Will, I make one of the most difficult phone calls I’ve ever had to make.
I call my mother.
She’s still in Belize, her mission extended as she manipulates plants
in the rainforest to evolve. And, as far as I know, still unaware of what has happened. The Council was informed of my father’s death, but I had Zthane request I be the one to tell my mother. And now here I am, wondering how a person does that.
Songs of frogs and bugs sing at me across the static-y line. “How are you doing, Chloe?”
I crawl on my bed and curl into a little ball. I don’t answer her question. Instead, I tell her, “There’s something you need to know, Mom.”
She’s hesitant with her answer. “Is everything okay?”
No, I want to tell her. “Dad is dead.”
No words fill the space between us. Just the mournful cries of frogs and bugs.
I fumble through the next parts, but I manage to get them out. She stays silent the entire time, so much so that I wonder if she’s even still holding the phone against her ear.
But once I’m done, she says quietly, “I’m glad it was you who called to tell me.”
There are no tears in her voice, either ... just sadness, like mine. When we hang up minutes later, with her promising to come see me as soon as she’s back in Annar in the next few days, I wonder what she’s doing in Belize right now. Is she crying for her dead husband, a man she spent most of her life with but, in the end, drifted apart from? Is she in shock? Is she working through her grief?
I consider making a little screen so I can check in on her, but in the end, I don’t. My mother has always been a private person. She’s opened up a little over the last few months, and for that I am intensely grateful. But she is who she is, and even now, even when I wish I were with her so my mother and I could share a hug in our grief over a man I think we both barely knew yet lived with, I let her have her solitude.
Later that night, as I lay in bed, I think about my parents’ relationship. I was never privy to much of it, despite growing up in their household. They certainly weren’t affectionate, nor did they tell one another how they felt (at least, within earshot of me, I guess). Outside of seeing Alex’s loving parents, I just assumed this is what married people were like. They were more like roommates than lovers.
The more I think about it, the more my heart goes out to them. My parents deserved better. What they had slowly chipped away at them until they were strangers.
I think about how wonderful Cameron and Molly’s relationship was, and how Will still measures what love ought to be based on what his parents were like together. I think about how wonderful and beautiful it must have been for Cameron to even consider opening his heart up again, and of how their love made him stronger, not weaker. I think about the Graystones and how they are more than just partners; they’re best friends, too. I think about Cora and Raul, of how explosive and emotional they are together, and of how companionable Meg and Alex are with one another.
I think about how much I love Jonah, and of how the thought of spending the rest of my existence with him is something I hold so very close to my heart.
I think about how short life is, and how it always moves in unexpected directions. How, even with the most careful planning, it will still throw curveball after curveball. How fragile it is, how easily it can be lost. How it ought to be cherished at every moment. How happiness should be held onto tightly, because one never knows when it will leave you behind.
That night in our apartment, as Jonah nods off in my arms, mission dossiers scattered all around him and forgotten in his exhaustion as I watch the remnants of a movie, I twist my fingers in his hair—a little shorter than normal today, after a hair stylist went overboard and cut too much—and think: what I feel about this man is more than just love. It is forever.
It’s family dinner night. Despite some initial squabbles about safety, and finally caving and allowing a team of Guard to come and watch over us while we dine, a group of us go out to a restaurant. I love this family of mine, even when they’re bickering like they are now. Will and Callie are once more adorably sniping at one another, this time about ... wine? I can’t help but giggle. Their sexual tension is off the charts. I wonder if they’ve kissed any more. I hope they have.
I make a small motion under the table, my finger drawing a line between them. “Am I wrong about this?” I whisper to Jonah.
He takes a sip of his water, as we are still wineless, the corners of his mouth curving upward. My heart skips a beat, and then another when his dimple appears. We are surrounded by my family, yes—but he is my family. He is more than that.
I want to marry him something fierce. I want to marry him now—not in some distant, intangible future that may or may not come, but now. Is that irrational? An overreaction based on the craziness of our lives and situations? I don’t know. All I know is that it’s a truth my heart knows.
Everything goes fuzzy around me as we stare at each other in the middle of this crowded restaurant. His eyes are darkening, and I wonder, can he hear my heart right now? My desires?
Our fingers knot together and I’m dizzy and—
“How is work going?” Astrid is asking Kellan.
And I remember we’re not alone.
Kellan’s on the other side of Callie, trying desperately not to roll his eyes at the two of them. “Fine, I guess.” He glances over at Jonah and me; I hate to think that he’s probably feeling what I’m feeling right now. “I’m going on a mission soon. I should be gone for awhile.”
This is enough to draw Callie’s attention back. “Like how long?”
He smirks; it’s that lovely, half-smile of his that sends new butterflies to my stomach in a swarming frenzy. I hate that this still happens, even as my whole soul floats in blissful contentment and love thanks to the man next to me. “Long enough that, when I come back, you two will finally have picked which wine we ought to have at the table.”
“Chardonnay,” she says at the same time Will says, “Pinot Grigio.”
A passing waiter swings by our table; Cameron shakes his head, amused. The poor waiter retreats, making sure we know he’ll be ready for a drink order any time now.
“In all seriousness, where are you going?” Callie asks.
He breaks a bread stick in half. “I’m heading out with a team to help sway some of the stubborn Métis families to immigrate to Annar.”
Oh, that makes me so happy to hear.
“I suppose you’ll be busy soon, hen,” Cameron says, extracting a piece of crisped bread out of a wire basket nearby. “In your absence, the Council, alongside the Métis Council, voted to expand the plane’s dimensions by another five thousand square miles.”
Whoa. My happiness grows exponentially.
Just as Astrid pulls the waiter aside and tells him we’ll take whatever the house special is for wine tonight, I catch sight of a beautiful redhead sauntering into the restaurant with a few other giggling women.
And ... there’s goes my bubble of bliss. Because, seriously. You have got to be kidding me. I’m gone for two months, and on my second day aboveground, Sophie makes an appearance?
She’s like the plague. I cannot escape her. None of us can.
Jonah’s hand goes to my thigh immediately. And then, he must say something to Kellan, because his brother says, “Shit,” and gets out of his chair.
The smile on Sophie’s face when she sees him is so exquisite that I envy her, in a weird way. But it fades the moment Kellan grabs hold of her arm and steers her right back out of the restaurant. The women she came in with are shocked at first, but hurry out after them quickly.
“What is it with that girl?” Will asks as we all watch the door swing shut behind them. “Why does it feel like she’s always underfoot?”
Jonah doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. But damn, if it isn’t an excellent question.
“Do you think Astrid and Cameron are officially dating yet?” I muse as Jonah and I are in the bathroom, brushing our teeth before we get ready for bed. “I mean, they sat next to each other at dinner. Their chairs were so close together.”
He spits out his toothpaste and rinses. “Maybe? I don
’t know. I don’t ask her about that kind of stuff, you know. Nobody wants to imagine their mother ...” He shudders, but playfully so. “You know. Doing anything other than being a mother.”
I poke him with my toothbrush. “Would you really be okay if they were? Or are?”
“You mean, am I okay with her having a personal life?”
I nod.
“First of all, it’s none of my business—”
“Please,” I cut in. “You know Astrid would totally never date somebody her kids disliked.
“But, for what it’s worth,” he says, “I hope she does find love and happiness in her personal life. I always have.”
I lean back against the counter. “Does she love him?”
He considers this. “What she feels for him is complicated. There’s a lot of history there, you know.”
“And ...?”
His adorable dimple makes an appearance. “Fine. Yes, she loves him. But I think she’s also worried that she can never live up to Molly’s memory in Cameron’s eyes.”
“That’s ridiculous! Cameron isn’t like that.”
“Love isn’t always rational, Chloe. Even when the most rational people feel it.”
Isn’t that the truth. I reach out and grab his waist, tugging him closer. “Does Cameron love her?”
“Have you asked him?”
“I am not going to ask him that.” I lean up and kiss the hollow of his throat. Goodness, does he smell good right now. “Besides. What’s the point of being in a relationship with an Emotional if you can’t ask questions like these?”
His head ducks down next to mine. “Yes. He loves her, too.”
“And Callie and Will?”
He kisses the tip of my nose before pulling back. “That is a can of worms that would take hours to explain.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
I sigh. “Love should be easy, and yet it’s the most complicated emotion of all, isn’t it?”
He takes my face in his hands. Stares down at me for such a long moment, I’m reminded of the night before, when we made love and I lost myself in those orbs of blue. My heart flutters uncontrollably, all butterflies dancing in their effort to break free of my chest. Can he hear them, know just how much he means to me? More than just the base emotions rolling off of my soul, but what’s hidden deep within, straight down to the molecular building blocks of what makes Chloe Lilycomb Chloe?
A Matter of Forever (Fate #4) Page 14