A Matter of Forever (6 page)

We can do this, he and I. We can find a way to make this all okay.

“Dad has some photos he brought along of staircases you guys may want to peruse,” Will is saying. I reluctantly tear my eyes away from Jonah to refocus on the man I’ve been living with for over half a year now. “Since, you know, you won’t be getting your grand staircase to sweep down on and all. I’ll go get him. Do you want to wait until Kellan comes to pick one?”

“He’s fine with whatever we pick.” Jonah’s hand curves around my waist. “Design and architecture are of very little interest to him.”

Will scoffs. “I would have thought him quite keen on design, considering his flat looks like it’s from some fancy magazine.”

“That’s all Callie,” I say slyly. “She likes doing that kind of stuff, so he let her when he moved in. Speaking of, where is she right now?”

“I haven’t the slightest,” Will says coolly. “Most likely torturing some poor soul in a shop somewhere.”

“Or,” Jonah says, “downstairs with your father and Astrid, wondering why you haven’t checked in yet.”

I resist the urge to chortle. “How do you know that? Can you feel her all the way down there?”

Oh man, that dimple is taunting me. I want to kiss it so badly right now. “Actually, I can, but Kellan told me. He got there about five minutes ago.”

Will’s sigh is that of a long-suffering man. But then, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. Becca’s calling.

A two thousand ton elephant enters the room with us. All of the teasing and laughter we’d built up goes flying away and all that’s left is gross discomfort and sadness.

I reach forward and squeeze his shoulder before Jonah and I leave him to take the call in private. I can’t help but worry, wonder why she’s calling and how he’s doing with all of these changes. The girl he fell in love with as a child is healed now, thanks to Cora. She’s healthy and in possession of all her memories of their rich history together and all the mistakes she made.

I may tease him about whatever it is he and Callie are or aren’t feeling toward each other, but it isn’t fair—not until he resolves whatever it is that lingers behind with the girl he lost his heart to at such a young age, only to have her cheat on him with his best friend and get pregnant. And now, Grant’s dead and so is the baby, and for years Becca was confined to a wheelchair and a breathing machine with only snatches of memories and a stranglehold built on obligations and history that refused to let Will move on.

She wants him back. And he doesn’t know how he feels about it. It’s a tough thing, watching someone you love struggle so much with their demons and emotions and know there’s nothing you can do to help them but simply just be there for them.

Unfortunately, I’m forced to watch these things happen way too often, so I know this feeling well.

“Think the renovators will be upset that I’ll be finishing their work for them?”

We’re in the living room, surveying our options as we wait for Will. From behind, Jonah winds his arms around me, his chin settling on my shoulder. “They’ll get paid no matter what, so I’m thinking no.” A lingering kiss presses against my cheek; tiny, happy wings beat against my heart at this sweet touch. “You don’t have to do everything right now, you know. No big decisions need to be made.”

“Are you really okay with Will and Cameron moving in?”

“Yes,” he tells me. “But just to let you know, Kellan offered to have them live with him downstairs. I think Cameron is leaning toward that.”

I chew on my bottom lip as I stare out of the window in front of us. It’s early summer in Annar; dripping emerald trees drape over the city streets, riotous flowers line windowsills, and pillowy clouds drift through an azure, sunny sky. It’s funny how beautiful today is when, in reality, it’s the beginning of something so ugly.

“It’s unfair that so many people have to uproot their lives just because of me.”

His nose gently grazes the skin between my ear and chin. Goose bumps race up and down my arms. “They don’t see it that way.” Another lingering kiss graces my cheek, leaving me weak-kneed. “At least Astrid and Callie aren’t moving in, right?”

I wrap my arms around his. “Thank goodness for small favors.” And then, despite wanting nothing more than to turn around in his embrace and kiss him until we both forget our names, I say, “We need to talk.”

All the muscles pressed up against me tense. “About?”

Will emerges from the hallway, face unbearably grim. “Sorry. Where were we?”

Jonah lets go and steps to one side, a hand tugging through his hair. “Staircases. You were saying you had photos?”

“Ah, right.” A quick glance at us has Will adding, “Let me go down and talk with Dad. You two come down when you’re ready to see them.”

I trail him to the door. “Thanks, Will.” And then, “Is everything okay?”

He glances behind me, back toward the living room where Jonah is still standing. “Yeah. Fine. See you two soon?”

I lean up and give him a quick hug and then he leaves.

Jonah’s at the wide French doors that lead to a wrap around balcony, hands stuffed in his pockets as he gazes out, brows furrowed. I join him, but am surprised to see what he’s looking at.

There’s a gorgeous, ethereal redhead across the street, wearing black sunglasses and looking like she’s just stepped off of Fifth Avenue in New York City. Un-freaking-believable. It’s Sophie Greenfield.

I lean over to the railing and peer down at Kellan’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend. “What is
she
doing here?”

There’s very little emotion in his voice when he tells me, “I’m assuming she’s checking in on Kellan. It’s not like it’s an unusual occurrence, you know.”

Sophie smiles up at me before flipping me the bird. Nice.

“Way to be classy, Sophie!” I shout down. Well, I attempt to shout, anyway, as my voice is still a scratchy mess. She continues to hold her finger up as she strolls down the street and turns at a corner. Gods. What a bitch. Why is she doing this? Doesn’t she understand how obsessive this seems? “Isn’t this stalking?”

“Yes,” he agrees. “But there’s not a lot we can do about it, remember? She’s banned from the building, but not from the sidewalks around it. Annar is free rein for her.”

And the Council has specifically told both twins they aren’t allowed to influence her. Awesome. “Does Kellan know she’s here?”

“Yeah. But he didn’t let her see him, so ...”

Ugh. It’s infuriating. The last time we ran into each other, she basically insinuated something happened between her and Jonah when I was in Alaska, which was such a low blow. But, I don’t want to talk about Sophie. That will only make all of us miserable. I decide to cut to the chase immediately. “I think I know who is in Jens’ body.”

His surprise stings, as it seems he was expecting me to confess to something else, like maybe something to do with his brother. And I have to remind myself,
time and place
, even though I also know I reap what I sow.

I walk back over to where he is. “He ... no, it?” I shake my head, choosing right now to focus more on the task at hand. “Whoever it is in Jens’ body. He could do Magic—or at least, a kind of Magic. I tore the bathroom stall doors off in an attempt to smash him with them. And while he choked me out, I watched them go right back onto their hinges, just as if nothing had happened.”

A long, hard breath is blown out. The hand that hints at his anxiety is working overtime as his knuckles strain white. “Are you saying you think Jens is possessed? By another Magical?”

“Not just any Magical,” I tell him. “The first one. Enlilkian.”

Seconds tick by as he processes this.

“Obviously, I can’t say for sure, but ...” I twist the ends of my loose hair up into a bun before letting it fall back down again. “When we were in the hospital, when it seemed like I was having seizures, somebody spoke to me in my head. Somebody I didn’t recognize.”

Somebody who wasn’t Caleb.

My fiancé’s eyes widen significantly.

“Back at the restaurant, after he broke my bones,”—Jonah winces and pulls me closer, like he’s desperate to protect me long after it happened—“he put this sound in my head. An awful sound that kind of just ...” I search for the right words to describe this hell, but none seem to work well enough. “I guess it just shut me down. I heard it again in the hospital.”

“Jesus,” he whispers.

“I kept thinking, who could do this to me? No one else makes sense, Jonah. Only Enlilkian.” I tap on my forehead. “I don’t
feel
him in my head anymore, but ... it worries me
you
can’t feel me. Or surge. What if he’s done something to me to make sure you can’t?”

“Then we will figure out how to reverse whatever he’s done. Are you sure you don’t feel him in there right now?”

“Positive.”

His forehead comes to rest against mine, eyes closing. I know he’s angry and feeling more than helpless; I’m right there with him.

I reach up and cup his face. “I could hear you,” I tell him softly. “In the bathroom. I couldn’t move, couldn’t open my eyes, but I could hear
you
. I think you saved me, Jonah. I was slipping away and you woke me up and reminded me why I needed to keep fighting.”

His arms loop around my body and I’m held so tightly I can feel his muscles trembling. I want to reassure him that things are, in fact, okay now, but the truth is, I’m not so sure they are.

How can they be until Enlilkian is stopped?

Jonah and I don’t go to help move the Dane boys’ belongings to Kellan’s building (as even Zthane encouraged me to stay put, at least for the next day or so), but we do help them unpack while at the same time Jonah gathers up his own belongings to take upstairs. Kellan’s apartment has three large bedrooms, so both Cameron and Will get their own space now that Jonah is moving out. For his part, Kellan is silent as the boxes shift around; I think he and Jonah spend the better part of the few hours talking about what I admitted earlier in the day. This kind of behavior is old hat for Astrid and Callie, who are also over to help. They act as if nothing is amiss with two of our party remaining silent the entire time, whereas Cameron and Will are still struggling to get used to it.

It’s unnerving to be back in Kellan’s apartment, though; even more so knowing there is now a small, neat spiral staircase joining his home and mine. When Jonah first admitted to me that he’d bought the space above his brother, I hadn’t truly dreaded the proximity. There was an entire floor in between us; seeing one another would take time and planning, elevators and external staircases. I would have been constantly aware of him, yes—but it felt doable. Now, though, with the metal and wood staircase I created coiling between us, it feels much more difficult to let go gracefully, even though I desperately wish to.

And yet, as I shift boxes from the living room to one of the back bedrooms, I can’t help but peek through the cracked door that leads to Kellan’s bedroom. Memories flash throughout my mind, of time spent in there before we went to Costa Rica a year before. Of how his mouth felt like on mine. How my heart still calls out for him, no matter what my mind says. And of how I’m aware of him in every fiber of my being when we’re in the same room together.

“You okay back here?”

Like right now, for instance. As if on cue, Kellan is standing just inches away, leaning against the wall as he studies me.

I jerk back, knocking the door open wider. I hate that I blush furiously, that he’s caught me peeking into his bedroom. Thank the gods he can’t feel me right now—or at least, I don’t think he can. I step to the side so his king size bed is no longer visible. “Thanks for letting Cameron and Will move in.”

A slow smile emerges, the half one that leaves me lightheaded. “It might be fun. I’ll never go hungry, you know?”

I laugh probably louder and stronger than is really needed.

He takes a step closer toward me. My back hits the wall; my breath stutters in my chest. “How are you really doing with all of this?”

My mouth sort of stupidly opens but no sound comes out. Gods, he smells so good, too. What is it with the Whitecomb boys always smelling good enough to eat?

“I don’t like not being able to feel you,” he murmurs. One of his hands hovers near my face before ever so gently sliding hairs that have freed themselves from my ponytail back behind my ear. “It’s unsettling.”

A door down the hallway swings open. Kellan’s hand drops to his side and he takes a step backward. Cameron wanders out, an empty cardboard box in his hands.

I step around Kellan and tell him, “Let me take that for you.” When Cameron goes to argue, I quickly add, “I’m feeling a little useless around here, you know? Like I’m the lazy one.”

“You just got out of the hospital,” Cameron says. “You’re entitled to be a little lazy.”

And yet, I can’t be lazy right now. I can’t let my guard down, especially when it concerns my feelings toward Kellan. And all of this—me and him here in the hallway—is so bittersweet that I know I can’t stay any longer. I’m too afraid of being weak. So, like a coward, I snatch the box from Cameron and bolt in the opposite direction.

“There you are, sweetling,” Astrid says as I enter the living room. “Would you mind going into the kitchen and helping Callie fix dinner?”

Gladly. I wander in there, still unnerved, to find Callie making sandwiches. I marvel at how she can be here, helping out so easily when her heart is still recovering from what happened between her and Jonah, too. I pull aluminum foil off a bowl to find potato salad. “I’ve been sent in to help. This looks delicious, by the way.”

She chuckles under her breath as she screws the lid onto a pesto-mayo jar. “Mom got this maggot in her brain back around Christmastime that we all needed to learn to cook. Or at least feed ourselves outside of take-out. It turns out I make a damn fine potato salad.”

I pass over a chunk of white, smelly cheese. “Jonah mentioned something about this. I guess Astrid taught him to cook, too?”

“More like, she dragged our sorry asses to some culinary classes. Kellan came for the first couple but conveniently found work excuses to get himself out of the rest.” She extracts a mandolin from a nearby drawer and proceeds to slice the cheese. “Mom totally wised up on this, though. Jonah and I weren’t allowed any outs, no matter how hard we begged.”