Storm Siren

CHAPTER 14

 

WHAT THE BOLCRANE WERE YOU THINKING?” Eogan roars. His hair is standing straight up where his hand plowed through it, making him look like a rooster.

 

I smother a laugh as he stops in front of Colin and glares. “Are you insane, mate?” He points at Colin’s chest. “You I guess I should expect it from. But her? She’s not even close to ready. She could’ve killed someone!”

 

I can’t tell if Colin’s silence is due to wisdom or the fact that his bottom lip is the size of a plum. My face goes warm at the memory of what, admittedly, might have been a slight overreaction on my part last night, and the kissing event that initiated it.

 

“And here you . . . you . . .” Eogan looks close to a conniption attack. “You take her out and expose her like that? And then you display your Terrene abilities? In the High Court? It doesn’t just matter that people saw you, Colin, but do you know how it would’ve ended if she had a flare-up? You would’ve been dead. Everyone would’ve been dead. Which is why you are never allowed to leave the estate without asking me.”

 

He turns and stomps off across the grassy area. Colin smirks at me with his giant, fat lip while keeping his eyes on Eogan.

 

“And don’t you dare smile about it,” Eogan hollers.

 

Colin gives a loud, innocent cough that fools no one and whispers, “Did you tell ’im?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Obviously he doesn’t know ’bout yer flare-up.”

 

“And I plan to keep it that way,” I say as Eogan flips around and comes striding back to stand in front of me. My turn. He glares at me up and down. “What about you? Did anyone recognize you?”

 

“I already said no one—”

 

“I’m not asking you, Colin.”

 

I shake my head. “No one knew who we were, and no one followed us home.”

 

Eogan tightens his jaw and runs a hand across the back of his neck. “Probably too scared of genius boy over here,” he finally mutters. “Did anyone notice you? Was there any out-of-the-ordinary attention?”

 

An image of the shiny-toothed man in the black cloak sweeps through my thoughts. The expression on his face just before Colin pulled me from the scene.

 

“No,” I say.

 

I flinch because my hesitation was too long. Eogan’s eyes become slits, accusing me of lying, but he doesn’t press it. Just asks irritably, “And are you hurt?”

 

 

 

“Fine.”

 

“Are you certain?” His eyes won’t release mine. Still with the grumpy, searching attitude.

 

“She was fine,” Colin interjects. “I made sure. I swear I wouldn’t ’ave let anything get outta hand. I knew she could ’andle it. And if she couldn’t, then I would’ve put a full stop to it and gotten her outta there sooner.”

 

Eogan’s gaze blackens to the onyx color of his skin, and it’s more frightening than any of his yelling. He turns to Colin. “Okay, you do not decide what she can or can’t handle. Because what if she had gone off, mate? What if she couldn’t control it? Not only did you risk the very lives of the Faelen people whom you’re so anxious to save, you risked hers as—”

 

“She can’t be killed by her own power.”

 

“Maybe not! But do you think she could live with herself if she’d taken out that whole common house? Could you live with yourself? It would destroy her.”

 

Colin’s wriggling under Eogan’s anger like I’ve never seen him. He glances at me and attempts a smile. Bumps my arm. “But she’s fine. She was good. Right, Nym?”

 

I nod halfheartedly. I’m still stuck on the whole “I can’t be killed by my own power” comment.

 

“This time maybe! But—”

 

“Wait. Why can’t I?” I interrupt.

 

Eogan’s forehead creases. “What?”

 

I look back and forth between them. “Why can’t I kill myself with my power?”

 

“Because you’d pass out,” Eogan says distractedly.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

 

 

He sighs and shoves his hand through his hair again. “Look—have you ever fainted in the middle of an episode?”

 

I nod.

 

“So that’s your internal mechanism. All Uathúils have one. But”—he leans over and directs an eyeful of daggers at me—“that’s not really the point, is it?”

 

He straightens and looks at both of us. And waits for an answer.

 

“Right.” I nod very seriously. “That’s not the point.”

 

I’m tempted to add that no matter what the point is, he looks like an old man when he gets mad and lectures. Like he should be some very important general telling some very important army what to do instead of two people who are supposed to save the entire blasted free world.

 

“Good. Because from now on, you’re training three extra hours a day.”

 

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