A Matter of Heart (14 page)

“Guard him? Jonah, what are
you—”

“Another bad phrasing. I’d
like it if you could stay with him until I get back. Would that be okay?”

I repeat slowly, because
surely I’ve gotten this wrong, “You want me to stay in your brother’s room and
not talk to anyone but the Shamans.”

“Yes.” He’s relieved.
“Exactly.”

A thousand questions whirl
around my mind, but I hold them at bay as he helps me into Kellan’s room,
locking the door to my room behind us. It’s very quiet in here, almost too
quiet.

And then he truly blows me
away when he leads me straight to Kellan’s bed. When he pulls the covers aside,
I stutter, “What are you…you mean…you want me to lay down
here
?”

He won’t look at me. “You
need to sleep, and it’s not like you can get good rest while sitting in a chair
for several hours, Chloe.”

Did I hit my head in the
cave? Do I have brain damage? Am I hallucinating? “But…? But…!”

He clears his throat and
stares at his brother. “I know you’re worried this will upset me, but—this is .
. .” He clears his throat again, then looks up at me. His eyes are flat, devoid
of anything I can use to ascertain the truth. “It’s the lesser of two evils, I
guess.”

My eyebrows shoot sky-high.

There’s a small laugh,
followed by, “
Another
bad word phrasing. I’m apparently on a roll
tonight, which isn’t good, is it? Since I need to be on my toes for tonight’s
meeting?” He reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Don’t worry about upsetting me.
This is my idea. And . . . weird as it may seem, it will actually relieve me to
know you two are together while I’m gone.”

He pats the spot next to
Kellan, but all I can do is stare at it. I mean . . . it’s not like anything
will happen. Kellan’s in a coma, and I’m recovering from dehydration, and Jonah
is putting his trust in me, in us, to do . . .? I don’t know what, exactly.
Which is part of the problem. “Why do you need me to guard him?”

He doesn’t even hesitate to
say, “You’re the only other person I trust to be with him if I can’t.”

I ask, “Astrid?” I don’t
even bother mentioning his dad. Why should I? Since we’ve moved to Annar, he
sees his dad even less than when we lived in California.

“Also coming to the
meeting.” After a quick glance at a clock nearby, he takes my elbow and helps
me into the bed. My limbs feel disjointed as I slide under the sheets. The sky
is falling and it’s raining cats and dogs and soon, somebody will run in and
tell us that Armageddon and Ragnarok and all those other doomsday scenarios are
upon us.

I should make another bed.
That’s the logical solution. Right?

“How long will you be gone?”
My voice comes out weird, all high-pitched and scratchy.

The blanket is tucked in
around me on the side facing the edge of the bed. “I’m hoping to be back before
morning. I’ll leave word downstairs that you two are not to be disturbed by
anyone, save your assigned Shamans. Promise me you won’t talk to anyone until I
get back?”

This
is so weird, so wild, but I agree, because it makes him happy. He sighs in
relief and leans down and kisses me. It’s soft and short, just a peck, really,
like he feels the awkwardness of kissing me while I’m in a bed, next to his
brother. And then he’s gone, leaving me to gape at the space he once occupied.

I’m much too wound up now to
fall asleep, so I spend my time flipping through channels on the massive flat
screen mounted on the wall opposite the bed I’m in. True to stereotype, I have
a zillion channels at my disposal but nothing of interest to watch.

A knock on the door sounds
before it opens, and I click off the TV, expecting to see one of the Shamans.
But no—the Goblin in the doorway isn’t in scrubs. She’s dressed in a soft, gray
shift, her brown hair streaked with violet and tied back into a sloppy
ponytail.

“Hello, Chloe.”

I simply stare at her while
Caleb reminds me of Jonah’s request.

“We haven’t had the pleasure
of meeting yet.” She hovers near the doorway. “I’m Sam. I work with Kellan.” A
slim hand motions towards the person I’m lying next to. When I don’t say
anything in return, she adds, “I’ve been worried about him.”

Don’t talk to anyone but the
Shamans, is what Jonah asked of me. Even still, I can’t help but wonder—is this
one of the girls Kellan has distracted himself with? She’s pretty—very
pretty—and they’ve apparently got this Guard thing in common, but—

“That’s some crazy stuff you
guys went through,” Sam is saying to me. My eyes refocus on her as she takes a
couple steps closer. “The entire Guard is talking about it.”

Why is she here?

“The fact that you guys were
trapped in a cave for almost a week? Unreal,” she continues, her fingers
finding her ponytail. They twirl about in the thick strands, the purple
flashing brightly against the dark. I can’t help but wonder if Kellan has
touched her hair, if he thought the bright color attractive. More attractive
than my plain brown.

Caleb is relentless:
Don’t
talk to anyone but the Shamans
.

But I do. “What do you
want?”

She blinks, obviously taken
aback by the greeting I offer. “Everyone is really worried about Kellan, about
the team. Nobody is telling us anything.”

Kellan’s breathing is steady
and deep next to me, his limbs warm against mine.

“What happened out there?”
Her fingers twist over, and over, and I can’t help but stare, mesmerized by
their deft movements. She’s got beautiful hands. Even her nails are perfectly
formed. Has Kellan ever noticed how lovely they are? Mine—mine are crazy big
for a girl. I used to get teased all the time when I was little, that they were
more like baseball mitts than girl hands. But not Sam—Sam’s hands are lovely
enough to model jewelry or nail polish.

It’s utterly ridiculous, but
I need Sam and her bright hair and pretty hands to leave. I can’t stand the
raw, green shards forming around my heart. Because this girl, this pretty girl,
probably knows Kellan better nowadays than I do. My voice is flat when I tell
her, “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Her
eyes, a light amber, squint in sympathy. “It’s just, it would really set people
at ease if they knew—”

Caleb shoves Jonah’s words
at me, strong enough that my ears ring:
Don’t talk to anyone but the Shamans
.

“Please leave.” I close my
eyes and turn my head away from her, towards Kellan’s face. His breath hits my
skin and my heart beats hard, like I’ve just run a marathon. I don’t say
anything more, and the door clicks shut a minute later.

What
is going on?

When I wake up, sunlight is
streaming through the windows. Jonah’s asleep in a chair next to Kellan’s bed,
feet propped up against the mattress.

As if he can feel me awake,
Jonah’s eyes open and we study each other, smiling. It’s something we always do
when we wake up, and I like it. There’s a familiarity to it that’s comforting.
“When’d you get back?”

He stands up and stretches.
“A couple hours ago.”

I glance at the clock on the
wall. It’s ten a.m., which means Jonah was gone for much longer than a few
hours. “Was the meeting worth being out all night?”

He smiles and leans over to
kiss me. It’s that same, awkward kiss from the night before. The one that
reminds me I’m in bed with his brother. “I think so.”

I promptly get out of the
bed. There’s no reason I should be there, now that I’m awake. I whip up a
comfy, oversized chair and sink down into it. “Again, I ask: should I be
worried?”

“No.” He goes over to the
dresser, where a bottle of water sits. He uncaps it and says, “Your job is to
get better. My job is to take care of everything else. So—did anyone come by
while I was gone?”

I scratch at my scalp.
Itchy, itchy, guilty scalp, or so my mother has always claimed. “Um, some girl
who works with your brother. Sam?”

A thought comes to me: my
mom. Why hasn’t my mom called? Come by? Worse yet, why haven’t I questioned
this yet?

The water bottle freezes at
Jonah’s lips, mid-drink. All traces of his previous smile disappear from his
eyes. The bottle is set back down on the dresser. “When?”

“An hour or so after you
left.”

He swears under his breath
as he digs out his cell phone. A quick text is sent. “Did you talk to her?”
Before I can answer, he adds, “What did she ask?”

I relay the conversation,
which sends him into another round of furious texting that lasts until Kate
Blackthorn comes in. Kate’s from the Human plane, too; I think she’s around one
hundred but looks no older than forty. She’s tall, blonde, and such a sunny,
happy person that you’d never guess she spends her life dealing with horrible diseases
and viruses. She, alone, has been responsible for some of the worst pandemics
on the Human plane in the last seventy years. “How are you two this beautiful
morning?” she asks, not surprised in the least to see me in Kellan’s room.

She doesn’t wait for our
answers before coming over and checking me out. “Wonderful progress,” she
murmurs. “You’ll be able to go home in no time.”

“How long is no time?” I
ask, and she laughs, giving Jonah a knowing look.

“Soon enough.” Her smooth
hands press against my stomach. “So,” she says to Jonah, “that was quite the
showdown. But I’m glad for it—a long time coming, that’s for sure.”

I grab at Jonah’s attention.
“Showdown?”

Typical, unexpressive Jonah
face slides into place. And, as I could have predicted, he ignores this and
focuses on Kate, who has now walked over to the bed and is leaning over Kellan.
“He’s doing much better today. I’m quite pleased with his progress.”

“Do you have a timeline in
mind?” Jonah asks, and Kate chuckles.

“I’m not the one with the
timeline right now. It’s all in Kellan’s hands; he’ll wake up when he’s ready.
Just keep talking to him. Be encouraging.” She puts her hands on her hips. “And
don’t worry about anything downstairs. After last night, I’ve got some Watchers
stationed at the front of the hospital. The Guard won’t be bothering us until
he wakes up.”

The Guard?

I just can’t put the pieces
together, because Jonah works extensively with the Guard. Karl and Zthane are
good friends of his. His brother is a Guard, for crying out loud.

The Guard are not our
enemies. Are they?

“Good,” Jonah replies, arms
crossed against his chest.

“I’ll be back in an hour or
so to check on Kellan,” Kate says. “Chloe is pretty much good to go, but I’m
still going to recommend some more rest. Possibly,” she adds from the doorway,
“until Kellan wakes up and is discharged.”

After she leaves, I grab
Jonah’s arm and tug him closer. “My recovery is contingent upon Kellan’s?”

He doesn’t sit down next to
me in the chair, not like I want him to, but his stance softens considerably.
“I can’t be in two places at once; it makes it easier if you two are in the
same location. Kate is being a good Aunt and is siding with me on the issue.”
His phone beeps, and after a quick glance, he silences it before setting it,
facedown, on a table nearby. But the phone has other ideas, because it buzzes
across the wood during three calls in quick succession.

“Maybe you should answer
that.”

He shoves his hands in his
pockets and sighs. If I’m not mistaken, he looks . . . guilty. Uncomfortable.
“I’d rather not.”

I keep my tone light. “Why?”

“Because it’s Callie.”

The phone buzzes again, just
about an inch away from the table’s edge. Despite everything that’s gone down
over the last year, I try to think about this rationally. Callie Lotus is friends
with Kellan. Good friends. They were together for quite a bit of time earlier
this year. And thinking about Callie makes me think about Astrid.

“Why hasn’t Astrid come by?”

Jonah’s head tilts enough so
his hair falls in his eyes. “We didn’t want to upset you.”

I practically wince against
the soft cushions behind me. “Your . . . mother—for all intents and purposes,
since that’s what she is to you—hasn’t come to see you or Kellan, who is in a
coma, may I remind you, because you’re all worried about upsetting
me
?”

“To be fair, your mother
hasn’t come by, either.”

I try to ignore the ache
that comes with this reminder. “Okay, I’ll give you that—but whereas my mom and
I prefer to appreciate one another at a distance, you and Astrid are actually
close.”

A finger absently drags
alongside the side of his nose a few times. “Kate Blackthorn is Astrid’s best
friend. They’re like sisters. She’s been kept up-to-date pretty much every
second Kellan has been in here.”

Even still . . . “Still!”

“Chloe,” he says, voice low
and steady, “you’ve made it . . . clear, if you will, over the last year that
you prefer having very little to do with Astrid.”