A Matter of Heart (Fate, #2)

He sits up, too. “Well, you’re part of the Guard, too, you know. The only Guard who never come are the ones out on missions at the time of the party.”


That is technically true. Creators are always part of the Guard as well as the Council, but for some reason, I never quite feel like I’m one of them. The Guard have a very insular mentality—us versus them. Yet when I’m at Guard HQ, it’s like I’m one of them, never one of us. It’s not from lack of trying on behalf of a number of my Guard friends, though; Karl, Zthane, Kia, and company do their best to include me. But . . . it’s awkward. Too many of these people know that I pretty much rejected Jonah for several months to date his brother. And for all the love I hold for Kellan, it’s something I regret immensely. The pain I caused Jonah, the wedge between the twins I helped create—those are things I wish I could erase.

But I can’t. For all I can destroy, I can’t undo time.

“I guess,” I tell him. My chin drops to my knees.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Kellan will be there.”

Although he sounds okay with this, I know he still struggles with me and his brother spending time together. I catch these fleeting looks of anguish and frustration every so often when the three of us are together, or when I leave to hang out solo with Kellan. So I wrap another shield around me, one to hide the sadness. And it does make me sad, needing to hide my feelings from both of these men, but I don’t know what else to do. Their pain, in addition to my own, is often too much to bear.

Already, I’m wondering if I’ll be able to control how I’m feeling about the two of them, if I’ll be able to contain the pulls of my unbreakable Connections. I chose Jonah, not Kellan. Anything I feel towards Kellan has to be put away; it’s too dangerous not to be.

I reach out and take his hand. “He and I had hot dogs today.”

Jonah shudders, and I laugh. Poor boy, being forever denied the joy of a simple hot dog. I crawl into his lap and shove my head under his chin, against the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. I like this spot. It feels like that when Jonah was made, my measurements were taken into consideration, because my head fits perfectly there.

“I love you,” I tell him. There is no need to shield these feelings. I don’t even think I could if I tried.





“Once upon a time, I thought riding in those things would be glamorous and exciting.” I have to shield my eyes from the dust kicking up as Raul lifts the helicopter back into the sky. “I think I’m past that now.”

Karl laughs, deep and rumbly, as he hands me my backpack. “They’re good for quick travel.”

“Pragmatist,” I accuse, but I’m chuckling, too, despite the reason we’re on our current mission. We’re in Manali, India, a small town at the base of the Himalayas. Year-by-year, the Asian country is shrinking underneath the mountain range thanks to the help of shifting tectonic plates and Creators.

When I was first told I’d be responsible for reducing the country by two centimeters a year, I balked, but Intellectuals from all the planes slapped studies in front of me, highlighting how this isn’t an uncommon occurrence anywhere and it’s a crucial part of the constant evolution of geography. Then I learned it wasn’t only India that I’d do this to, but numerous countries and continents on all the planes, and for my effects (and those of Creators before and after me) to show, it’ll take millions of years.

Still, it’s a sobering thought, making a ginormous country smaller, even if by such tiny increments.

“Last year,” Karl tells me, slinging his bag over his shoulders, “Rushfire insisted on being carried in a tricked out backpack he made. It might’ve had a bed and bar in it.” His grin fills his face. “I’d like to thank you for walking on your own two feet.”

I sidestep a group of kids chasing a ball down the street. “You say this like you were the one carrying him around. You were babysitting me, remember?”

“Changing your diapers were the worst.”

I swat at him, and he breaks into laughter again.

I’m glad it’s just us on this mission—well, Raul, too, but he’s working double time, ferrying another Guard about a hundred miles south. I miss Karl. I see him during Council and Guard meetings, and Jonah and I go over to the Graystone house for dinner at least once a week, but I don’t get to hang out with him like we used to. But it makes sense. He and Moira have Emily and their attention outside of work revolves around her, like it should, since she’s the best kid in all the worlds.

I might’ve been accused of spoiling her with toys and dresses that I whip up, but I can’t resist her smile. Toddler smiles are visual hugs, and worth whatever it takes to elicit them.

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