Sternly he said, “We have guests outside. We are going to tell them some of the children wandered and tripped an alarm. That there is nothing to worry about. No one is to speak of what happened tonight…because nothing happened.”
“Ethan, you cannot be—”
“Are you expecting me to go out there and tell them someone broke into our home and killed one of us, right under our noses?” he asked me angrily.
He was right but...but to act like nothing had happened? “Who’s going to believe that, when Calliope isn’t beside you—”
“Why wouldn’t she be beside me? She’s getting cleaned up and changed now.”
What? “Ethan, she was shot, stabbed, and beaten. And you're forcing her to get cleaned up and play hostess?”
His jaw clenched again, and he took a deep breath. “I did not force Calliope to do anything. We spoke about it. We agreed. Now, I need to talk to Darcy—”
“No.” I stepped in front him, arms stretched out, glaring. “If you and Calliope want to go out there and pretend we are okay, fine. Bury your emotions. You can do that. But do not force that boy—”
“He is not a boy, Nana,” he snapped at me. “He’s a man. He’s a Callahan.”
“His mother just died—”
“And if he does not want the rest of us to fucking die, he will get out here and do what he needs to do. Aunt Cora…” He did his best not yell, but he was shaking, too. “…Is gone. But we are still here, which means we can survive this.”
“You sick son of a bitch!” Helen sobbed and cried as she rushed to the door. “Her body is not even cold yet and—”
“Helen.” I tried to stop her, but instead, another pair of arms grabbed on, holding her still. I looked at Darcy, his eyes…his eyes just like Declan’s when he had first arrived.
“Stay with Mom,” he said to her. “Ethan’s right. We can’t all be missing. They will assume something did happen. So, one of us needs to go.”
“Mom—”
“I’ll be back. Watch Dad, too.” He hugged her before stepping over to Ethan. “I need a second to change.”
“Make sure it’s something similar enough,” Ethan replied.
It was only then that I noticed he’d changed already, too.
Darcy nodded and, without a word, followed him.
It brought back what Sedric had told me so many years ago.
EVELYN—AGE 20
“Why do they call it Ceann Na Conairte?” I asked, stroking my hands through his hair.
He looked as if he was sleeping, but I knew he was awake. So, I ran my fingers over his thick eyebrows, then his nose.
He smiled. “That tickles.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Immediately his face fell. “The more questions you ask, the deeper you go, Evie.”
“Stop calling me that.” I smacked his chest.
“Ugh.” He grimaced dramatically. “Careful there, love, I’m fragile.”
“Fragile my ass…foot—”
His eyes snapped open as he grinned. “Did you just curse? Gasp? You, Evelyn Louise O’ Tierney, cursed? I really am a bad influence.”