Free The Chosen by Celia Thomson Page B

Chloe rose to her feet and pulled Paul with her with the ease of her Mai strength.
    “I dare you to give me a piggyback ride,” he said weakly.
    “Don’t tempt me.” Chloe smiled. “You know, I could have your dad’s girlfriend killed,” she said brightly as they began to walk down the hall together. “I know an entire organization of assassins now. Two organizations, actually.”
    “As much as I don’t want to sound like a sensitive New Age boy,” Paul said with a sigh, “I
think
my dad might have something to do with this as well. You know?”
    When they got to the lobby, Amy saw them and waved; she had something that looked suspiciously like a giant portfolio under her arm.
    “Hey, guys. How are things?” It sounded forced. Even for Amy.
    “Not too shabby,” Chloe answered, shrugging.
    “How’s Brian?”
    Chloe tapped her tooth, remembering at the last moment to keep her claws sheathed. It was really much more satisfying the other way, but they were in public. Finally she decided. If she had no control over the rest of her life, at least she could keep things clear with her friends.
    “He kissed me.”
    Both of her friends’ jaws dropped, and Chloe wished they could see themselves. They actually made a pretty good couple. It sucked that they were breaking up, considering Chloe was just getting used to them as an item.
    “He’s not dead,” she said shakily, hoping it was still true. It had been at least two hours since she last called Dr. Lovsky. “And he hasn’t shown any symptoms yet, either. They’ve got him pretty closely monitored, so if he goes into anaphylactic shock, at least they’ll be able to catch it. He was a
dumbass,
” she added before Amy could open her mouth. “I guess he thought he was going to die—he was so out of it from the blood loss.”
    “Holy cow,” Paul said, shocked beyond the realm of swear words. “
Sooo
glad I didn’t wind up with you for two minutes in the closet at Amy’s thirteenth birthday party.”
    “Life sucks,” Chloe said, letting the misery descend on her for one brief moment, in the safety of her friends. Then she shook her head. “I’ve got to find out what happened to Xavier.”
    Amy shrugged. “I’ve been checking the newspapers and public police records online every day since you asked a couple of weeks ago—nothing has come up about him yet. There was one obituary for a Xavier Constantine, but he was eighty-seven.”
    “Well, that’s good news, I guess. Not for the old guy, I mean.”
    “Are you going to check out his apartment? See if he’s even still there?” Paul asked.
    She shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m … kind of exhausted. I’m just going to go home.” Chloe wasn’t sure she would be able to deal with it if she found out Xavier was dead—one of the reasons she had been putting it off for so long.
    “Oh, you’re busy tonight,” Amy said, a little too quickly. She turned to Paul. “You want to hang, maybe? Watch the
Star Trek
marathon?”
    As clichéd as it was, Chloe realized this was a train wreck she could only watch. She kept hoping her friends would not say the inevitable.
Superhuman strength, night vision, and no way to salvage the next minute of conversation
. She sighed.
    Paul shifted uncomfortably. “Not tonight.”
    That’s one….
    “Other plans?” Amy pushed, still trying to sound bright.
    That’s two….
    “No, I just … I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
    That’s three!
    Between Amy’s constant pressure and Paul’s stupidly excessive honesty at the wrong time, it was amazing they hadn’t spontaneously combusted earlier. Chloe found herself actually closing her eyes and wincing.
    “Oh,” Amy said, color rushing to her cheeks.
    “Well, I gotta get going,” Paul said, pretending to ignore everything that had just happened. He reshouldered his messenger bag—this one said
Aladdin Sane
on it—and went through the emergency exit that hadn’t been hooked to an alarm system