Echo by Noel Alyson

Echo by Noel Alyson

Author:Noel, Alyson [Noel, Alyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Paranormal, Romance
ISBN: 9780312664879
Amazon: 0312664877
Goodreads: 12439057
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin
Published: 2012-11-01T07:00:00+00:00


twenty-six

Daire

“Stop fidgeting. And stop eye rolling too. The longer you resist me, the longer this’ll take.” Jennika frowns, hooks her thumb under my chin, and tilts my head toward hers as she swipes an arc of deep purple shadow over my lids. “I thought you were in a hurry to get out of here and hang with your friends?”

“I am. And if you’ll remember, that’s exactly what I was trying to do when you barged in and insisted I needed a makeover.” I shoot her a mock-scathing look that quickly turns to laughter when she returns it with one of her own.

“Well, excuse me for saying so, but no daughter of mine is going to a party looking like…” She cocks her head and squints, searching for the perfect way to both finish the sentence and properly offend me.

“Like what?” I take a surreptitious peek at my reflection. Seeing a left eye turned smoky and deep, while the right languishes in a state of semi-hazy with only the promise of sultry.

“No daughter of mine is going to a party looking like she’s ready for church.” Jennika smirks, pleased with herself for her ability to surprise me by saying something I didn’t expect. Going on to add, “There are church looks, there are party looks, and then there are holiday party looks, which, I’ll have you know, call for lots of drama, bling, and yes, deep smoky eyes. Especially deep smoky eyes. So if you can just bear with me for another ten minutes, I’ll give you a look so killer, I guarantee you know who will keel over and die the second he sees you.” She dips her brush into a pot of dusky charcoal shadow and comes at me again.

“Dace,” I say. “His name is Dace. You’re allowed to use it, you know?” Uttering the words through lips that barely move. A sort of ventriloquism I learned out of necessity when she used to practice her special-effects makeup techniques on me when I was a kid. “And if it’ll help speed things along, feel free to make my eyes a little less fatal. I’d really prefer he doesn’t die when he sees me. I like him better alive.”

“Aha!” Jennika draws away. Her face lighting up as though I’ve just revealed something we didn’t both already know. “You still like him—there it is.” She wags her finger before me. “And therein lies the problem.”

I open my mouth to speak, then close it just as quickly. Deciding against the way-too-defensive, not-at-all-believable reply that first springs to mind.

If defense is the first act of war, then anything I say will only escalate this into an argument I’d prefer not to have. If I have any hope of getting out of here in time to meet Dace, then I’m going to have to cooperate.

After today’s session with Paloma, when I not only learned the firesong but actually whipped up a small little windstorm, followed by a brief burst of rain (though sadly the



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