How would you have known earlier?
Your voice.
Huh? But my heart began to beat harder, as if it knew something my head hadnt quite caught on to.
Last Friday at lunch, I heard you and Emma talking about sneaking into Taboo, and couldnt get you out of my head. Your voice stuck with me, like after I truly heard you that first time, I couldnt stop hearing you. Your voice carries above everything else. I can find you in a crowd even if I cant see you, so long as youre talking. But I didnt know why. I just knew I needed to talk to you outside of school, and that youd be at the club on Saturday night.
Suddenly I couldnt catch my breath. My lungs seemed too big for my chest, and I couldnt make them fully expand. You followed me to Taboo? His admission made my head spin, questions and confessions both battling for the right to speak first. But I couldnt think clearly enough to focus on them.
Yeah. He sounded so matter-of-fact, as if it should be no big surprise that a hot, out-of-my-league guy would go to a club on a Saturday night just to see me. I wanted to talk to you.
I swallowed thickly and stared at my hands. I could hardly believe what I was about to tell him. When you talk to me, I feel like everythings okay, even when things are really falling apart. Why? I looked up then and met his gaze, searching for the truth even if I wouldnt understand it. What did you do to me?
Nothing. Nothing on purpose, anyway. He squeezed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. We truly hear each other because were the same. Im a bean sidhe, Kaylee. Just like my mom and dad, and at least one of your parents. Just like you.
Just like me. Was it possible? My instinct was to say no. To shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut until I was sure the crazy dream was over. Really, though, was being a bean sidhe any weirder than being plagued with premonitions of death?
But even if it was true, something didnt fit.
In the stories there are no male bean sidhes.
I know. Nash scowled and let go of my hand to cross his arms over his chest. The stories come from what humans know about us, and they only seem to know about the ladies. You girls are pretty hard to miss, with all the screaming and wailing.
Ha ha. I started to shove him, then froze in the act of raising my arm. Id just defendedalbeit jokinglya species I claimed not to belong to. Or even believe in.
And thats when it hit me. When the whole thing sank in.
Yes, it sounded crazy. But it felt right. And little pieces of it actually made sense, in a way that was more intuitive than logical.
My throat felt swollen, and my eyes began to burn with tears of relief. Being not-human was better than being crazy. And infinitely better than dying of cancer. But most important, having answerseven weird answerswas better than not knowing. Than doubting myself.
Im a bean sidhe? Two tears fell before I could banish them, and I wiped the rest away with my sleeve. Nash nodded solemnly, and I repeated it, just to get used to the idea. Im a bean sidhe.
Saying it out loud helped that last little bit of certainty slip into place, and I felt my chest loosen. One long breath slipped from my throat, and I sank into the car seat, staring out the windshield at a sunset I barely noticed. A tension I hadnt even felt began to ease through my body.
Nash had given me one answer, but hed brought to mind dozens of others, and I needed more information. Immediately.
So why doesnt anyone know about male bean sidhes? And if youre a guy, wouldnt that make you more of a male sidhe?
He reached for his drink, and the muscles in his arm shifted beneath skin tinted red in the last rays of sunlight. Unfortunately, the term was coined by humans, who dont know male bean sidhes exist, because we dont wail. We dont get the premonitions.
I frowned. So what makes you a bean sidhe? I mean, how are you different fromhumans? Even having accepted my new identity, it felt weird to refer to myself as other than human.
He leaned against Carters car-door handle and took another long drink before answering. We have other abilities. But what I can do wont make much sense to you until you know what you can do.
I shook my head, uncomprehending. I thought I was a death herald.
Thats what you are, not what you can do. At least, thats not all you can do.
CHAPTER 9
I leaned forward, angling my knee to avoid the gearshift, more curious than I wanted to admit as I waited for the rest of it. But he twisted to peer out his window. My legs are getting stiff. Lets walk. He pushed his door open without waiting for my reply.
What? I demanded, leaning over the console to watch as he stretched in the parking lot, muscles bunching and shifting as he pulled both arms over his head. Youre going to keep me in suspense?
No, just in motion. I groaned with impatience, and he ducked into the car to grin at me. What, you cant walk and talk at the same time? Then his grin widened and he slammed the door in my face. I had no choice but to follow.
Automatic lights flared to life as I stepped onto the concrete, bathing the entire lot, the adjacent, deserted playground, and part of the pier in a soft yellow glow. I circled the car and gave him my hand when he reached for it. Fine, Im walking. Start
Nash kissed me, one hand gripping the curve of my left hip, and the rest of my sentence was lost forever. When he finally pulled away, he left me breathing hard and craving things I could barely conceptualize. His gaze met mine from inches away, and I noticed that his irises were still swirling in the soft yellow light overhead. Or maybe they were swirling again.
Suddenly his eyes didnt seem so strange. And neither did my fascination with them. Soyour eyes? I whispered when I could speak again, making no move to step back. Is that part of what male bean sidhes do?
Suddenly his eyes didnt seem so strange. And neither did my fascination with them. Soyour eyes? I whispered when I could speak again, making no move to step back. Is that part of what male bean sidhes do?
My eyes? He frowned and blinked. The colors are swirling, arent they?
Yeah. I leaned closer for a better look, and since I was so close, anyway, I kissed him back, sucking lightly on his lower lip, then delving deeper. Exhilaration shot through me when he groaned and gripped my waist with both hands. His hands started to slide lower, and I only stepped back when I got scared by the realization that I didnt want him to stop.
Um I cleared my throat and shoved my hands in my pockets, then finally looked up to find him watching me. Your eyes are beautiful, I said, desperate to bring the conversation back on track. But dont they kind of clue people in? That yourenot human?
Nah. He brushed a chunk of dark hair from his forehead and grinned. It only happens when Im experiencing somethingumreally intense. I felt myself flush, but he continued as if he hadnt noticed. A bean sidhes eyes are like a mood ring you cant take off. But you cant read your own, and humans cant see it at all. Just other bean sidhes. His held my gaze with an intense look of his own. Yours are doing it too. More shades of blue than the ocean, swirling like a Caribbean whirlpool.
Oh, lovely. My flush deepened until I thought my cheeks would combust. He could see what I was thinkingwhat I wantedin my eyes. But I could see what he wanted too.
Tell me the rest of it. I turned toward the park with my hands still in my pockets. I wanted to know everythingbut mostly I wanted to change the subject.
Nash stepped over a parking bumper and caught up with me in two strides. Human lore says that when a bean sidhe wails, shes mourning the dead, or the soon-to-be dead, but thats not the whole story. He glanced up to study my profile. Ive seen you hold back your wail twice. What do you remember about the time you let it go?
I flinched at the memory, reluctant to revisit the event that landed me in the hospital. It was horrible. Once I let it go, I couldnt pull it back. And I couldnt think about anything else. There was this feeling of total despair, then this awful noise that felt like it just erupted from my throat. I stepped over a landscape timber, then onto the thick bed of wood chips carpeting the playground, and Nash followed. The scream was in control of me, rather than the other way around. People were staring, and dropping purses and shopping bags to cover their ears. This little girl started crying and clinging to her mom, but I couldnt make it stop. It was the worst day of my life. Seriously.
My mom says the first times always rough. Though it doesnt usually get you locked up.
Thats right; his mother was a bean sidhe too. No wonder shed stared at me. She probably knew I had no idea what I was.
When we got to the heart of the playgrounda massive wooden castle full of towers, and tunnels, and slidesNash stepped beneath a piece of equipment and reached up for the first monkey bar beam. Were you watching the pre-departed when he actuallydeparted?
I raised an eyebrow in dark amusement, trying not to stare at the triceps clearly displayed beneath the snug, short sleeves of his tee. Pre-departed?
He grinned. Its a technical term.
Aah. No, I wasnt looking at anything. I sank onto a low tire swing held up by three chains, rocking back and forth slowly, trying to forget the words even as I spoke them. I was trying to make the screeching stop. Mall Security called my aunt and uncle, and when I couldnt stop crying, they took me to the hospital.
Nash let go of the bar and settled onto the rubber-coated steps of a nearby slide, watching me from a couple of feet away. Well, if youd looked at the other guy, you would have seen the deceaseds soul. Hovering.
Hovering?
Yeah. Souls are fundamentally attracted to a bean sidhes wail, and as long as it lasts, they cant move on. They just kind of hang there, suspended. You remember sirens in mythology? How their song could draw a sailor to his death?
Yeah? And that image did nothing to ease the apprehension now swelling inside me like heartburn.
Its like that. Except the people are already dead. And they arent usually sailors.
Wow. I put my feet down to stop the tire from rocking. Im like flypaper for the soul. Thatsweird. Why would anyone want to do that? Suspend some poor guys soul?