A Matter of Heart (Fate, #2)

HOLY CRAP. I should just stop eating, because I’m back to choking on gelatin.

“He and his friends go out every night and drink until somebody has to drag their asses back to their apartments.” He pauses, and then continues in that detached voice, “Usually some girl that he just met and that he won’t see again—his choice, not hers. But that’s okay, because there’ll always be a new girl to take her place the next night.”

Why is he telling me these things? “I don’t think—”

“You need to know this stuff, Chloe. You need to know about the survival mechanisms he’s built into his life if you want to be there, too. Because—” He shakes his head. “See, Kellan is popular. Everyone thinks he has a charmed life. He’s got them all fooled.”

Okay. No more Jell-o for me for the moment. I shove it away, terrified of choking any further. “What do you mean, survival mechanisms?”

“Think about what it was like for you, when we were separated last year. For the both of us. How much it hurt to be away from one another.” And I do. It was mind-bogglingly awful because there was no way to control it, thanks to our Connection. Even still—

“I miss him, yes,” I admit. “And it hurts . . . but it, these last eight months, they’ve been nothing like what we went through then.”

He stares through the open doorway, at his brother. “I asked Astrid about it. She’s been worried sick about him, too. She says it’s because you and I are together, that because we’re strong, and we’re happy—she thinks the loss of the other Connection you have isn’t as acute. Because you have one that’s satisfied. But, he doesn’t have that. He’s . . . he’s where we were, last year. We were like that for a week. He’s been like that over a year.”

Honestly? I can’t even begin to process this, because it’s just too appalling to even begin to think about.

“Kellan is out of control nowadays, and it’s because, when he’s moving at a hundred miles per hour, he doesn’t have a lot of time to think about how he’s feeling. All the adrenaline rushes, the girls, the alcohol . . . they act like a drug. And it’s a good one, because like I said, everyone thinks he’s happy.” Jonah closes his eyes, his hair spilling down across his lashes. Then, like it’s the most painful thing he’s ever admitted—“He needs you.”

“He needs us,” I say quietly, and I know, more than anything else in my jumbled brain right now, that it’s the absolute truth.





“I need to go to a Council meeting.”

A glance at the clock nearby tells me it’s nearly midnight. I’ve been dozing on and off after Cora, Lizzie, and Meg came to visit, bringing with them exhausting questions and worries. Yet, despite the time, Jonah’s shrugging into a hooded sweatshirt and picking up his keys. I know I’ve been out of it lately, but Council meetings are never this late at night. “Now?”

He shoves his wallet into his back pocket. “There’s an urgent matter that can’t wait for morning.”

What in the worlds can be urgent enough to drag Council members out of bed? “Did one of the planes start a world war while I was asleep?”

His eyes widen before he laughs. “No.” Then he sobers, biting his lip as he studies me. “It’s about the Elders attacks.”

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, but he’s right there to urge me back. “As a person who was, you know, in one of those attacks,” I insist, “I should probably go.”

“Nobody is expecting you to come tonight. You just woke up—you need your rest. I’ll tell you all the details later, though, okay?”

I am pretty tired for a girl who apparently slept two days straight, and the truth is, I’d probably embarrass myself by dozing during the meeting. “Promise?”

He kisses my forehead. “Promise.” His lips press together before he says, “I need a favor from you, though.”

“Of course.” I smile as he sits on the edge of my bed.

“I’m going to be gone for a few hours, and while I’m not happy about that, it also means that you and my brother are going to be left . . . unattended.”

I sputter out a laugh. “We’re in a hospital. There are Shamans everywhere.”

He does not laugh. “Maybe I phrased that wrong. How about this—I would very much appreciate it if you don’t talk to anyone except the Shamans. Will you do that for me?”

Am I reading this wrong, or is he acting a bit paranoid? “Ooh-kay?”

He’s all business, no nonsense when he says, “Also, I think it’s a good idea if we move you into Kel’s room while I’m gone.”

Whoomp. My spine is straight as it shoots me into a sitting position. “Come again?”

He glances at the open doorway between the rooms. “Can you put the door back up?” Bewildered, I do as he asks, and he continues, “It’s just, what with me needing to leave, I would feel best if you were together. Especially since you’re the one who’s best equipped to guard him—”

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