to go, Daddio.”
Lord Cassius narrowed his eyes. But he left without another word, closing the door behind him.
“Sooo…,” Sophie said, dragging out the word as she stared at the way her boots sank into the rug, which looked uncannily like stepping on real sand. “Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I—”
“Hang on,” Keefe interrupted, sliding off his bed and tiptoeing across his room. He paused near the door, pressing his finger to his lips in the universal shhhhh sign before he grabbed the handle and shoved his shoulder against the wood as hard as he could.
A startled yelp echoed from the hallway, followed by a thud that could only be the sound of a body hitting the floor.
“You have ten seconds before I let Ro unleash some of her new little bacteria buddies on you,” Keefe warned as he slammed the door hard enough to rattle the wall. “I hear they leave a gnarly rash!” He waited until the sound of footsteps had retreated down the hall before he turned back to Sophie and lowered his voice. “That won’t keep him away for long, so better spill it quick, Foster. Tell me why you have that cute little crease between your eyebrows. And why I’m feeling”—he waved his hands through the air—“hmm. Feels like the usual mix of worry, anger, and panic—though there’s something underneath that’s a little… I can’t figure out how to describe it. Fluttery?”
“Oooh, let’s focus on that one!” Ro jumped in. “It’ll be much more interesting than all the blah-blah-blah-the-Neverseen-are-trying-to-kill-everybody-blah-blah.”
“It’s not everybody this time,” Sophie corrected, trying to keep the conversation on track. “I mean… I’m sure that’s still their plan for the long run. But at the moment…”
Her voice trailed off as she locked eyes with Keefe.
How in the world was she supposed to tell him this?
She couldn’t just blurt out, Your mom ordered Tam to murder you—could she?
But… was there a delicate way of putting that?
“Aaaaaaaaaand the worry reaches the so-queasy-I-might-vomit level,” Keefe said, clutching his stomach and dropping back onto his bed. “Gotta say, it’s not my favorite emotion to share with you, Foster. Seriously—how do you ever eat?”
“Sometimes it’s not easy,” she admitted, swallowing the sour taste in her mouth. “And sorry.”
She took a step back, trying to put some distance between them. Most Empaths had to make physical contact in order to pick up what someone was feeling. But Keefe was different—with her, at least. At first she’d thought it meant something about the strength of her emotions, but Keefe’s father was able to do the same thing—and other Empaths couldn’t. So the Sencens also seemed to have extra-powerful empathy.
Keefe patted the empty side of the bed. “I’m fine, Foster. And clearly you’re going to need to sit down for this.” When she didn’t move toward him, he raised one eyebrow. “Uh, it’s not like we’ve never done the News of Doom thing before.”
They had.
Way too many times.
But one of these days, they were going to hit his breaking point—and this could easily be the moment.
“Need me to calm you down?” he offered, holding out his hand.
They’d discovered that if she enhanced him, he could use his ability to fill her mind with softly colored breezes and soothe her emotions. But the last thing he should be doing right then was comforting her. So she kept her gloves on as she made her way closer and sank onto the edge of the bed, keeping as much space between them as possible.
“Okay,” she said, fussing with the frilly sleeves on her tunic. “I… talked to Tam today.”
“Ugh, I should’ve known Bangs Boy was going to be a part of this,” Keefe grumbled. “And I’m assuming by ‘talked,’ you mean one of your Look-at-my-fancy-Telepath-tricks! kind of chats, right? Mommy Dearest didn’t send him to deliver a special message, did she?” He sat up straighter. “Wait. He didn’t blow up anything, did he?”
“No, so far only you’ve destroyed anything for the Neverseen,” Sandor growled.
He was, of course, referring to the time that Keefe exploded the glass pyramid at Foxfire—while Sophie was in it—in order to prove his loyalty to the Neverseen’s cause. It… hadn’t been one of his better life choices, even if he had given Sophie his cloak to make sure she’d be safe.
Keefe bent down and snatched Mrs. Stinkbottom off the floor, tossing the stuffed gulon from hand to hand like a furry basketball. “So what did good old Tammy have to say? Let me guess—he has no idea where they’re keeping