A Matter of Heart (Fate, #2)

My head snaps up; the book in my hand drops. A burst of panic forces me to construct an emotional shield.

“I guess it . . . surprises me? That you didn’t tell me that you met my brother’s . . .” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. But he does. “Girlfriend.”

My lips twist so I can chew on the corner. Yes, Jonah. I had lunch with them, and then afterwards, Kellan came over, and we almost had sex and merged and then spent the better part of the week with our hands all over each other. Only, when he asked me to pick him, I didn’t. I picked you. Again. And pretty much destroyed his heart and seriously wounded my own in the process. I don’t know if I can ever get over him, but I’m trying—even though right now, I miss him so much it hurts. “Yeah, I had lunch with them. Until Maccon Lightningriver showed up. Then I went and did some work stuff with him.”

Jonah studies me for such a long moment, I want to squirm. Somehow, though, I do not. I hate that I’m becoming so adept at hiding things from him. “Did you two talk about it?”

I laugh. It’s forced. “Of course Mac and I talked about what we were working on!”

If he wasn’t suspicious before, he sure is now. I’m awful at this. I’m a horrible liar, and emotional shield or not, Jonah knows me well enough to pick up this stuff like a heat-seeking missile. “I meant you and Kellan. Did you two talk about how he’s dating Sophie nowadays?”

My laughter turns hyena-ish until I realize—Jonah knew all along about Kellan and Sophie. And never. Once. Told me. “How long have you known?” I ask more forcefully than I’d meant to. But then, before he can answer, I find myself snapping, “And she’s not his girlfriend.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re right. She’s just some girl he screws when it’s convenient, because that’s what he does. He screws girls without any consideration for their feelings and then throws them away the moment they give him what he wants from them. But as he’s strung this one along for awhile, I think she’s got the right to label whatever it is they have, don’t you?”

Anger nearly engulfs me, but then I remember, his jealousy is not groundless. And I need to fix that, stat, even if I think he’s way out of line talking about his brother like this. I ask, more conversationally than I feel, all the while my stomach clenches and my head pounds, “Do you know her?”

He’s surprised by my turnaround, cautious with his answer. “I’ve met her a few times, but it’s not like I know her. I know more of her. She’s . . .” He pauses. “Popular, I guess. For lack of a better word.”

Well, no shocker there, considering she’s a goddess incarnate. I’m annoyed by how pathetic I must seem, having no clue who Sophie was when apparently everyone else knew, including Jonah. I manage, “She’s pretty.” Gorgeous is more apt, but I refuse to verbalize that.

My generosity only goes so far.

Jonah shrugs. “I guess.” Then he smiles, although it’s more of a comical leer accompanied by a pathetic attempt at eyebrow wiggling. “Only if you like redheads. Myself, I prefer brunettes. Always have. Always will.”

I end up giggling at his hideous French accent.

He laughs too, but then notices my book. “Gnomish dialects?” He picks it up. “Since when are you interested in languages?”

Since I started killing nons. I should tell him this, but . . . it’s too hard to even verbalize before I know all the facts. I take the book from him. “I’ve been thinking it might be useful to learn at least a few languages from all of the planes we work on, don’t you think?”

“Well, as I primarily work on the Human plane and already speak several . . .”

I swat at his arm. I’d forgotten that. Overachiever.

“Plus, I know some Elvin already, thanks to Astrid . . .”

I swat him again, but unable to contain my smile.

He grins. “Actually, I think it’s a great idea. Do you want some help?”

As I can only claim to speak conversational Spanish at its worst, I take him up on his offer. He’s certainly got his work cut out for him.

The map illuminated on the wall is eerily detailed, like an exact replica of land, mountains, trees, roads and all, turned on its side. It’s exactly what Zthane requested when he tasked me to create a machine that can project a map of any part of any of the worlds in perfect detail, both up close in zoom mode and from a distance.

Iolani stands before it, her finger mere inches away from one of the Elvin plane’s more populous cities. “Incredible,” she murmurs. Her finger dips into the picture; colors swirl momentarily before settling back into crisp focus. “Is there anything you can’t do, Chloe?”

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