I AM serious. You think I’m going to let you out of my sight for 1 minute when you’re outside?
It’s endearing how Jonah refuses to ever shorten the word you when he texts. I scan the street, searching for the house he’s most likely in. I don’t know for sure which one it is, though. Zthane has the team rotating between houses and locations within a one-mile radius every so many hours. Jonah insisted on always being within a block of me, though.
So did Kellan, although I’d lay down money the two of them aren’t in the same location, especially after what happened when we first got back to California.
It went like this:
Kiah was hugging me hello when she noticed his ring. She squealed and made a huge production of it. Several other Guard came over and offered congratulations, as it’s a pretty well-known fact that if a Connected couple finds their rings, it’s the same as a marriage, certificate and ceremony or not.
But the thing is, apparently during their argument a couple days prior, Jonah never got around to telling Kellan about the ring. And I’ll freely admit to being a huge chicken and not telling him either, because 1) I couldn’t bear to hurt him, and 2) I’m selfish in the long run and still think about what went down between us in Costa Rica far too often, which is all sorts of wrong. Because I’m deliriously happy with Jonah right now, and things are good, and bloody hell, WHY CAN’T I STOP THINKING ABOUT KELLAN?
There was this Artic stare down between the twins once everyone moved on which triggered my trusty friend Guilt to rear its blackened, rotting head once more.
While Jonah was going over final details with Zthane and Karl, Kellan found me alone, in pretense of sweeping the house.
He didn’t say anything at first. Not, “So, I see you guys have matching rings now.” Or, “You’ve torn my heart out again.” Or even, “I hate you, why do we have to be Connected?”
He just kissed me. Backed me up against a wall and kissed me like he did in Costa Rica, like we’re in the Olympics for kissing and want the gold. And then he finally spoke to me, the first time since our argument. He said, “That ring means nothing. Not to me, not anymore.”
I was speechless.
“Please be careful?”
I assumed he was talking about the mission, but he could have been referring to how I hold the fate of three hearts in my hands. All I could do was nod. And then he left.
I didn’t tell Jonah. Because how could I?
I’d wanted that kiss just as much as Kellan.
I’ve just crawled into a very cold, dusty bed when I hear what sounds like the back door slam. I freeze, the covers halfway up my body, my ears focused on every noise I can discern in the house.
Silence. Must’ve been my imagination.
I settle down and clap off the light (yes, the rental has its lights hooked up where you can clap to turn them on and off; I kind of want this back home now, to be honest), but not ten seconds after my head hits the pillow, something clatters in the kitchen.
It must be one of the Guard.
They’ve kept their distance for the past two days, concerned the Elders would stay away if they knew a team was present. But I get the feeling that every so often, someone sneaks inside to check out the area, especially when I’m sleeping.
I call out, “Hello?” But no one answers.
I slip out of bed and tiptoe to the kitchen. The house gives me the creeps at night, since I’m still not too familiar with it. “Who’s here?”
No answer, which makes sense, as there’s no one in the kitchen. The back door is open, though. The screen swings silently back and forth, unlatched.
I peek my head outside, scanning the area. It’s a decent neighborhood; I didn’t think I’d have to fear home invasion during my stay. Even still, I create an overly large butcher knife and tiptoe towards the living room.
No one.
Nothing in the bathroom. The spare bedroom.
I’m in the dining room, tapping the knife against the palm of my hand when I hear another crash, this time from the master bedroom. My heart stops.
I force the word out of my mouth, like some kind of fool with a death wish from a horror film. “Hello?”
And then I’m on my back, and all the air is gone from my lungs, rendering me speechless.
HOLY MOTHER-EFFING HELL.
My wrist snaps loudly as the silent Elder’s whip-like tail cracks against it. The knife I’d been holding goes skittering across the hardwood floors. Another strike hits my knee with deft precision.
My mind fragments into shards of black, searing pain.
Move, Caleb shouts at me. Get up and MOVE.