times he could smack the teal-eyed Wonderboy with his pillow before Elwin stopped him.
He should’ve just grabbed the pillow and started whomping, because then he could’ve stopped Fitz from adding, “That’s why Keefe got so pale after he impersonated my voice. He thought it felt like he’d tapped into some sort of deeper instinct—which sounds like mimicking, doesn’t it? And his mom is a Polyglot. And Polyglots usually have more than one ability, so…”
Keefe went back to strangling his blankets. “Might as well go ahead and say it, Fitzy, since you clearly already believe it.”
Fitz kicked his toe into the side of his boot. “Even if I’m right, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. So you’re a Polyglot and an Empath? That—”
“You are?” a new voice interrupted.
A beautiful voice.
Keefe’s favorite voice—even when it was all squeaky with worry.
But he’d barely caught a glimpse of a pair of gold-flecked brown eyes before he called out, “ ’Bout time you got here, Foster!” before an emotional storm crashed against his senses.
Panic and confusion and joy and fear and frustration—plus a billion other things Keefe couldn’t translate because it was way too much for his poor pounding brain.
“Uh, you should probably step back, Sophie,” Fitz warned. “I think your emotions are too strong for him.”
“No, they’re not!” Keefe argued—and wow, did his voice sound strained. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Nothing’s wrong. I swear, I’m fine.”
“He keeps saying that,” Fitz told her—because he was begging for a face-punch. And if the world hadn’t gotten so spinny, Keefe might’ve given it to him when Fitz added, “But Keefe’s been picking up all of our emotions without even trying. And he’s always been able to do that with you, so I think you’re overwhelming him right now.”
“Okay, I’m done liking Captain Perfectpants,” Ro announced.
Keefe was right there with her—which was probably why he blurted out, “Uh, for the record, most of the emotions are coming from you, Fitzy. You wouldn’t happen to have some unresolved feelings for anyone in this room, would you?”
Agonizing silence followed—along with enough misery to make the room blurry. All Keefe could see were splotches of color, and he closed his eyes and reached up to rub his temples, trying to think of something to fix the mess he’d just made—but that only made the dizziness worse.
Elwin coughed. “Well. I think maybe visiting hours should—”
“No,” Keefe interrupted, turning toward the blobby shape where Elwin had been sitting a few seconds earlier. “It’s okay. My senses just… need to adjust. Plus, I never took anything for the headache and nausea. I should have.”
“Yes, you should,” Elwin agreed, leaning in to whisper, “Guess Ro was right about what we needed to get you to cooperate—or who we needed.”
Keefe felt his cheeks burn.
He wanted to snap back with some sort of clever denial, but witty banter was way too much for his spinning brain. So he settled for a shrug as Elwin’s blurry shape moved toward the colorful shelves of elixirs, and the sound of glass vials plinking against each other echoed through the awkwardness.
If Fitz’s grumpy resentment had been the only emotion churning around the room, Keefe would’ve let him stand there and stew in it—maybe even made another joke to amp it up. But Foster’s feelings were such a brutal mix of hurt, heartache, and humiliation that he had to mumble, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant—”
“I think it’s best if I don’t let you finish that sentence,” Ro jumped in. “The probability of you making things worse is muuuuuuuuuch too high. And since I’m being more helpful than you deserve, I’ll also add that now might be a good time for you to tell us how you’re feeling—and spoiler alert: ‘Fine’ is not the correct answer.”
Keefe rolled his eyes. “Okay, how about this? My senses are a little overloaded—but it’s definitely not anyone’s fault.”
“It got worse once I was here, though, right?” Sophie asked, sounding farther away.
Keefe followed her voice to a blurry blond shape lurking in the doorway, along with a gray blob that was probably Sandor. “It’s not you, Foster. Trust me. The dizziness isn’t getting any better with you standing way over there.”
Which was true!
And supergood news—unless it meant she was still too close…
“I just need medicine,” he insisted. “Elwin to the rescue!”
Too bad the first elixir Elwin gave him only succeeded in making him gag. And the sickeningly sweet one after that actually made his headache worse.
But then Elwin