A Matter of Heart (Fate, #2)

I snort and then giggle at the ridiculous noise.

She grins, her silvery hair spilling down against the sticky bar—but she doesn’t care. I like that about her, envy, even. She seems comfortable in her skin, despite what she’s just said. And even though she’s talking to me about my Connection, the man I’m going to marry, I can tell she feels lighter now that she’s told me this and I’m glad for it.

“Can I tell you something?” She nods, and there’s an urge in me to confide in her, too. It doesn’t make sense, and is probably the worst idea ever, but Callie—bristly, gorgeous, damaged Callie Lotus—suddenly feels like one of the safest people to talk to. “Being a Creator sucks.”

She considers this. “I should imagine it does.”

So many people are always asking me what’s wrong; but not her. I like how she takes what I have to offer and doesn’t press for more details.

I don’t ask her any questions about Jonah. She doesn’t ask me anything else, either. We stay in the pub for the rest of the hour, sitting next to each other in silence, and it’s exactly what I need.

“How was shopping?” Jonah asks me at dinner. He’s like a hawk, this boy. Nothing gets by him.

I shrug and say, “Fine,” which is basically girl-speak for NOT FINE. His brows knit in concern at the same time Kellan asks Callie about her afternoon.

“Since when do you give two shits about shopping?” she snarls, but it’s all bark and no bite. Astrid admonishes her, but Kellan merely smiles in return.

It’s then I notice Jens Belladonna at a table across the restaurant. He holds up his wine glass in a silent toast to me. Two of the glasses of water on our table explode in my anguish. Jonah shoves me back before my lap is soaked; his jeans, though, do not manage to escape. A waiter hurries over and mops up the mess, apologizing like he’d somehow caused the glasses to crack rather than my continued lack of control over my emotions. While Jonah and Astrid repeatedly assure the young man he has nothing to apologize for, Callie catches my eye.

I debate not telling her, but I tilt my head slightly in Jens’ direction anyway.

Her focus swivels to him. He’s now talking to the person at his table, another Guard who Alex informed me earlier is one of his more loyal cronies. Once her glance is over, Callie pounds a fist in her other open hand. Eyebrows rise questioningly.

I choke down a gasp of hysteria. It’d almost be worth it just to see this girl—calm, collected and smooth Callie Lotus—deck a guy in the face. But I end up shaking my head.

She shrugs but pounds her fist one more time. Despite the circumstances of how we came into each other’s orbits, my heart kind of grows in that moment.

“This table is fine,” Astrid is telling the waiter. “We can stay here; it’s no problem.”

“Get lost already,” Kellan snaps at the guy, his fingers drumming against the table. He’s clearly on edge, because he wouldn’t normally be so rude in public like this.

The waiter scurries away, and Astrid rounds on Kellan immediately. “Between you and Callie, I think I’ve had my fill of piss poor behavior today, thank you very much.”

Callie rolls her eyes. Kellan begins to, but apparently thinks better of it. Jonah says nothing while he gets to work dabbing a napkin against his wet knees.

“Tonight is supposed to be a return to normalcy,” Astrid continues, her pale lavender eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It’s normal for us to act like assholes,” Callie mutters. “Or have you forgotten?”

Her mother is appalled. Jonah dabs at the stain harder, like he’s fully aware he’s the cause of Callie’s bad attitude. As Callie and Astrid bicker about appropriate restaurant behavior now that all at the table are officially adults, I can’t help but peek at Jens’ table.

He’s back to watching me, that smug smile that I now know I definitely loathe on his face. I look away quickly, jerking an arm up to do—well, I don’t know, anything, just to keep busy, and manage to knock over my new glass of water. As luck would have it, it dumps right onto Jonah’s lap. He jerks away; horrified, I grab my napkin to help dry him off, but this only serves to send my silverware straight at the table next to us. Startled, the couple sitting there leaps out of their seats.

GODS. REALLY? CAN ANYTHING ELSE GO WRONG?

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