Oh.
I squint at Colin. A Terrene? Other than his shaved head, I can’t see anything different looking about him. He’s a bit taller and thinner than Breck, but his face has the same personality. “He’s a Terrene, but I’m assuming his sister isn’t. How does that work?”
“Technically she is, but without any power. Terrenes are always born with a twin. One is gifted. One is cursed. From the country of Tulla originally.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “So which of them is gifted and which is cursed?”
“Depends on who you ask,” he says, not taking his eyes off Colin. “If you put it to him, he’ll tell you his sister’s the best person he’s ever known. Now again!”
He has Colin repeat his earth-moving exercise another five times, and I watch in silent intrigue at what the boy can do. I’ve never seen anyone with such remarkable power, nor such ability to control it. Could I reach this level of restraint?
When Colin’s finished, Eogan instructs him to head off for a jog through the woods to loosen his stressed muscles. Colin looks reluctantly at me, as if unwilling to miss out on seeing whatever Eogan’s got planned for me, but one glance from Eogan and he acquiesces with a nod.
As soon as he’s disappeared through the trees, Eogan strides over and holds out his hand. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I give him a wary glare and try not to notice how nicely his eyes match the emerald coloring of his clothes.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just have to know what we’re working with. Aside from the obvious shortcoming of your personality.”
He may be unfairly attractive, but he’s also unfairly awful. “What I’ve got kills people,” I say dryly. However, I don’t duck from his hand when he reaches for me.
His warm fingers touch my neck, right where my heart-pulse is. It pounds a little harder. Does he notice? Because his eyes flash before narrowing, and I swear his face pales the slightest bit. Then he brings his other hand up and places it beneath my chin where the cut from the selling merchant is still healing. He tilts my face so my eyes look straight into his.
“Don’t,” he says when I go to shift my gaze. So I stand there staring uncomfortably into his green eyes while he studies mine. What he’s looking for, I can’t imagine. But having him this close to me makes my stomach fluttery, and I’m acutely aware that his skin smells like pine and honey and sunbeams.
“What sets it off?” he finally asks without releasing me.
I shrug.
His gaze stays clamped on mine. Intent. Drilling. “If I’m going to help you, you need to answer the question.”
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“Can you set it off right now?”
“Do you want to die?”
He chuckles and slides his hand from my neck all the way down to my left wrist. Giving me goose bumps beneath my leather sleeve.
“Can I set it off?” He slips his fingers farther down to touch my deformed hand. Before I can jerk it away, he squeezes hard.
Heat surges within me. My blood responds with its wretched craving for destruction. I yank away. “Stop!” But he grabs my hand again before I can retreat farther than two steps back to the house. I turn to slap him, but his expression makes me pause.
It’s careful.
Bordering on comforting.
And I’ve no idea what to do with it because it’s foreign and pathetic and it makes me feel visible. Like an actual person. I detest him for it.
Colin comes running up all out of breath from his jog just as Eogan places his hand back on my neck.
Aside from his panting and foot tapping, Colin stays quiet, seemingly content to pump his chest muscles and make faces behind Eogan’s back. I crack a smile.
Eogan leans in until his face is all I see and his lips nearly touch my ear. I try not to inhale.
“Tell me about the little redheaded girl,” he whispers.
CHAPTER 8
MY MUSCLES TENSE AS MY HEAD JERKS BACK and my skin crawls with the stimulating air. How he knows about the little girl I don’t know, but how dare he use it to summon my curse. He’s not Adora. He has no right to use guilt against me.
A single cloud morphs out of nothing directly above us, and before Colin or Eogan has time to move, a bolt of lightning strikes the ground ten feet away, followed by a deafening explosion of thunder. The friction in the air crackles and another bolt detonates, and then Eogan’s fingers are pressed into my neck again, on my heart-pulse, and suddenly the cloud and static dissipate.
And Colin is using some choice words owner number eight once taught me. “Teeth of a pig, what the litches was that?”
I don’t answer him. I’m too busy sending my good hand flat across Eogan’s face as hard as I can before I turn and stalk away toward Adora’s house. He could’ve killed someone. He could’ve killed us all, idiotic fool.