Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy (ARIA) novel Chapter 638

Chapter 638

ARIA

Elite appeared beside me.

"The one on the left," Elite said.

I looked at the one on the left.

"How do you know," I said.

"I've been on many road trips," Elite said.

I took the one on the left.

Killian was at the back of the station near the refrigerated section, looking at the specific collection of items that the station stocked for people who needed something that wasn't snacks. He had a quiet focused quality — the same one he'd had in the car when the photographs came out, the specific attention of someone who was in a new version of a familiar thing and was paying attention to both.

He saw me looking.

"The photographs," I said, coming over.

"Yes," he said.

"You're in some of them," I said.

"The ones from before the exile," he said.

"You looked—" I started.

"Young," he said.

"Happy," I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

"I was working on it," he said. "In those photographs. I was sixteen and I was working on being happy in the specific way of someone who'd understood what they had and was trying to not ruin it."

"And then," I said.

"And then it came out," he said. "Who I was. What I was." He looked at the refrigerated section without seeing it. "I've been thinking about those photographs since Jordan found them."

"What are you thinking," I said.

"That I'm back in some of the photographs," he said. "Not those photographs. The next ones. Whenever anyone takes the next ones." He paused. "I'm going to be in those."

I looked at him.

"You're in the pack," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Properly," I said.

"Yes," he said.

Silver said: *He's figuring out what he has.*

*Yes,* I said.

*And trying not to ruin it,* Silver said.

*Like he said he was at sixteen,* I said.

*He's better at it now,* Silver said.

*Yes,* I said. *He is.*

The car's seating had been rearranged for the second half of the drive.

Nina was driving now. The transition had happened at the pump with the efficiency of people who'd done this before — Kael handing the keys to Nina without a significant conversation, Nina receiving them with the specific quality of someone who'd been waiting for their turn and was going to make good use of it.

Jordan was in the passenger seat.

The named seat. The laminated-tag seat. The *Ivory* seat.

He sat in it with the expression of someone who'd achieved something he'd been not-achieving for fifteen years.

"I'm in the seat," he said.

"You're in the seat," Ivory said, from the back.

"The seat," he said.

"Yes, Jordan," she said.

"The specific seat," he said.

"I know which seat," she said.

"That you have had a name tag on since—"

"I know," she said.

"And which you have occupied exclusively since—"

"Jordan," she said.

"I'm just acknowledging the moment," he said.

"The moment is acknowledged," she said. "You can sit down properly now."

"I am sitting down properly," he said. "I'm sitting down properly in the seat."

"In the seat," Ivory said, and the tone was the one that was performing patience and was not entirely performing.

Jordan turned to face forward with the expression of a man who had won something small and significant and was going to be mature about it and was also not going to stop knowing he'd won.

Kael was in the back beside Ivory.

They'd ended up beside each other with the specific naturalness of people who'd been beside each other in moving vehicles for years and had a default configuration. Kael had his arm along the back of the seat in the way that wasn't quite an arm around her but occupied the same architecture.

Ivory had her notes out.

Kael was looking at them.

"What is this section," he said, indicating a specific notation.

"Compound sequence for the estate infiltration," she said.

"This part," he said.

"The dispersal timing," she said. "The compound needs to be in the ventilation for approximately eight minutes before it reaches the concentration level that affects werewitch sensory capacity. If you go in at seven minutes, it's not effective yet. If you go in at nine, it starts degrading and the window shortens."

"Eight minutes exactly," he said.

"Eight to eight-and-a-half," she said. "The half minute is your margin."

"How do we know when eight minutes is," he said.

"Jordan has a timer," she said.

"What if Jordan's timer is wrong," he said.

"Jordan's timer is not wrong," she said.

"It could be," he said.

"Kael," she said.

"I'm being thorough," he said.

"You're being difficult," she said.

"I'm being thorough," he said. "Which involves asking questions about the plan."

"The questions you're asking have answers," she said. "The answers are: Jordan's timer, eight minutes, the window is adequate."

"And if something goes wrong in the eight minutes," he said.

"Then you improvise," she said. "You're very good at improvising."

"I'm better with a plan," he said.

"You have a plan," she said.

"I have your plan," he said.

"My plans are good plans," she said.

"Your plans are excellent plans," he said. "They're also plans that I'm implementing in a building with twenty werewitches and a specific document that Cassium values enough to guard with twenty werewitches."

"Reduced from fifty," she said.

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