Free Eden by Kate Wrath Page B

every detail.  But
there's no privacy.
    "How'd he take it?" Kobee prods.  Testing the
truth?  I can't be sure, but his face only gives away wariness and concern.
    Apollon frowns at me and then Kobee.  "Sorry," he
says, "but who are you?"
    As Kobee opens his mouth to retort, I cut him off. 
"It's OK.  How did he take it?"
    Apollon looks at me.  He shrugs.  "You know
Jonas."  When I open my mouth, he adds, "He's fine."
    ...Which tells me almost nothing.  I have a thousand
questions, but I take a deep breath and start in on introductions, instead,
nodding to each person in turn.  I skip Spec, since they've already met. 
"Apollon, Harlan, Kobee, Moses, Celine."  When I get to Celine, I
notice that her hand has been on my leg for a moment.  She's staring at Apollon,
starry eyes, parted lips.  Presumably she's been fixed in that pose since he
appeared.  Now, his eyes turn to her, and Apollon does what he does best.  He
grins mischievously, his blue eyes sparkling.  And oh, the dimples.
    A little smile slinks across Celine's lips, and her eyes
move sideways to me.  "I knew you loved me," she murmurs.  She stands
up and takes Apollon by the arm.  I'd say she pulls him away, but there's no
pulling to it.  He goes quite willingly.
    The rest of us watch them go in silence.  A moment later,
Moses cracks a grin.  "Well, we won't see him for a while."
    Chuckles and mumbles of agreement move through the group,
while I roll my eyes.  I'm not sure that Celine knows what she's in for—not
that I know.  I just know that Apollon is Apollon.  She'd have better luck
putting a leash on a rabid bear.
    Whatever my thoughts about Apollon and Celine, I find myself
turning toward the apartment, considering the stairs.  Part of me wants to go
to Jonas.  To confront this thing.  To talk it through.  Evening is falling
over Miami, and I can't very well stay out here all night.  I'm going to have
to face him.
    If he's mad at me, if he's—whatever he is, putting it off is
only going to be agony.
    The mixture of longing and dread must be plain on my face. 
Spec's hand clamps down on my shoulder.  I glance back at him.
    "Putting it off never helps," he says softly, his
words echoing my thoughts.
    I nod as he drops his hand.  A sigh shudders out of me.  My
eyes move again toward the stairway.  "Alright," I mutter, and I
leave them behind to face what I haven't been able to face so far.

Chapter 7: Comedy and
Tragedy
    A thousand thoughts play through my mind as I climb those
stairs.  I push the door open and step inside.
    Jonas is at the table flipping through the book that Lily
left us.  I expected—I don't know what I expected.  A little angst, maybe?  A
small dose of the immeasurable confusion I'm going through?  Maybe some anger
or indignation?  Reading calmly, no.  I didn't expect that.  Maybe he's looking
for some clue about us, but he's not going to find it in there.  He doesn't
even look up when I come in, and that, at least, speaks of tension.  Something . 
I edge closer to the table.  He says nothing.
    I stand there, at the side, for a long moment.  Then I take
a deep breath.  "So you're mad at me."
    He glances up only briefly.  "Why would I be mad at
you?"  There is no anger, no emotion in his voice.  He thumbs through the
pages, focused more on the book than on me.
    "...Apollon..."
    His hands twitch, and he nearly drops the book as he thumps
it closed, places it on the table, and turns to look at me.  His gaze wanders
over my face, and he fails to completely hide his alarm at first.  An instant
later, it's all safely tucked behind that invisible wall, and he looks as calm
as ever.  "What about Apollon?" he asks.  "Is everything
OK?"
    I blink slowly.  My head is starting to hurt, and I have a
feeling it's only the beginning.  "... He just came to talk to
you..." I prod.
    Jonas' lips part, his gaze falling to the floor for an
instant before he searches my face again.  "He, uh... you knew