Page 54 of Storm Caller

I spin my fork on my plate. “I need to ask my father why he kept my secret. I can’t help but wonder if he had some angle I haven’t considered.”

“Angle?” Rook asks, and I shrug.

“He never does anything without a reason.”

“Couldn’t his reason be that he wanted to protect his child?”

I snort and stuff some bread into my mouth. “That’s never been his style.”

Rook’s lips pull into a thin line, and we both fall silent as we quietly eat for a few minutes.

“You don’t have to come,” I say. “I can try to find the cure without you.”

He shakes his head. “If you’re going, so am I.”

“But this isn’t your fight.”

“It is,” he says. “Sol promised to teach us what she can do. I’d be willing to risk everything for that alone.” He hesitates, and it’s clear he has more to say. “I have another brother. One you haven’t met yet.”

Immediately, my gaze pings to him.

“Beckett lost his mind about a year ago. He’s been in a Whisper Sanctum ever since, comatose, dead to the world.”

I cover my mouth with my hands. “Oh, Rook. I’m so sorry.”

“We believe the ability runs in family lines—like you and Raine. My parents almost stopped having kids when both Beckett and I turned out to be defective.”

“You’re not defective,” I say vehemently.

He shrugs. “Even so, it skipped Justin, but Navy . . .”

“Oh no,” I whisper. “Not her, too.”

“She already exhibits some signs of transitioning to the Silence, and I need to protect them both,” he says. “This is personal, so if there’s any chance we might find that cure, then I’m returning to the city. Even then, we need it. You remember what Simon told us at Station Five. Eventually, this will affect everyone unless we find a way to stop it.”

Given everything he’s just said, I would feel the same.

“I want that. I couldn’t help my brother, but I can help yours.”

He offers me a smile that almost seems proud, then reaches out, circling my wrist where it rests on the table, and tugs gently. I allow him to draw me onto his lap.

My hands land on his shoulders as we sit eye to eye. “What’s this?” I ask.

“I missed holding you.”

“You held me all night,” I say, and he smiles.

“Fine, I miss holding you while you’re awake.” I laugh. “Now that you hate me a little less.”

“I never hated you. I was angry with you. Those are different things.”

“Do you remember what you said before you fell asleep?”

“Did I say something?”

“That Navy was probably right and that you might feel the same.”

My pulse stutters, a rush of sparkles exploding in my stomach as the memory comes back to me. “I said that? Must’ve been the drugs talking.”