The Siren (The Soul Summoner Series Book 2)By: Elicia Hyder
MY AWESOME LAUNCH TEAM
THE BOOK SUMMONERS
I would be nowhere without you! (Alphabetically):
Nikki Allen, Elsbeth Balas, Karla Barker, Tracie Bechard, Connor J. Bedell, Lilia Bingham, Betty Bowers, Cindy Brown, Gabriela Cabezut, Tiffany Cagle, Marsha Carmichael, Shweta Chopra, RK Close, Céleste Couture, Lisa Cowens, May Freighter, Sarah Gillaspie, Venice Gilmore, Rick Gottinger, Melody Hall, Lina Hanson, Bridget Hickey, Kira Hodge, Wendy Howell, Paula Hurdle, Misi Hurst, Susan Huttinger, Ashley Huttinger, Kristin Jacques, Ara James, Deborah Jay, Tango Jordan, John K. Park, Erani Kole, Debra L. Rutschman, Erica Laurie, Linda Levine, Rena Lott, Juliet Lyons, Lori Mahan, Chuck Mason, Sal Mason, Kellie Milon, Michel Moore, Susan Oates, Tammy Oja, Teresa Partridge, Wendy Pyatt, Jenny Quinn, Lucy Rhodes, Megan Robinson,, Marsha Sanderlin, Lisa Shaw, Vandi Shelton, Ana Simons, Sherry Skiles, Stephanie Smith, Rata Stevens-Robinette, Heather Grace Stewart, Ann Stewart-Akers, Debbie Stout, Leigh W. Stuart, Angela Tinkham, Nina van Vlierden, Ana Victoria Lopez, Ronnie Waldrop, Susie Waldrop, Lennie Warren, Shanna Whitten, Russ Williams, Stephanie Williams, K. Williams, Bridgett Wilson, Natalie Wolicki, Terrilynne Work, Ann Writes
WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP. CLACK, CLACK. EEEENG! EEEENG! EEEENG!
“This is a test. This is only a test of the Emergency Broadcast System.” I was practicing my best radio announcer’s voice.
“Sloan, stop talking,” my father said through his microphone. “And please, lie still.”
Lying still was becoming increasingly more difficult with each second that passed. I had been trapped inside the deafening MRI machine for more than twenty minutes. My father had insisted on the test after my last hemiplegic migraine, but I knew its results would be as useless as the last two CT scans he had ordered. There was nothing wrong with my brain, and there was nothing wrong with me…except it seemed I had the power to read and control people’s souls. That, however, had nothing to do with my migraines that I was aware of.
The trigger for my latest headache was the same as the others: Warren Parish had left town. He and I seemed to be bound together by an electrifying force, and when we were apart, paralyzing migraines were the penalty.
The MRI was going to be inconclusive.
When the machine stopped whirring and knocking like the inside of a drag racer’s engine, I wiggled my feet from side to side. “Are we done yet?”
“All done,” Dad said. The MRI table slid slowly out of the electronic cave I had been confined to.
My father was fascinated and terribly worried by my new development of headaches, but I knew telling him the truth wouldn’t help. My adoptive parents were incredibly loving and supportive, but they were also medical professionals who believed everything had a scientific explanation. Being that my father was a geriatric physician who specialized in dementia, I knew what his diagnosis would be—mental instability.
Dad walked into the room as I sat up on the table and adjusted my twisted gown. Even in his fifties, he was still movie-star handsome with the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. He was looking down at a sheet of paper in his hand. “You can get dressed.”
I held the back of my gown closed while I stood up. “What did the test show? Is it all sawdust and rocks up there?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Nothing stood out to me, but I’m going to have a friend of mine in neurology look over it to be sure.”
I put my hand on his arm and looked up at him. “Dad, I’m fine.”
He kissed my forehead. “I can’t be too careful with you. You’re the only Sloan I’ve got.” He started toward the door. “Do you want to grab lunch before you head to work? I have another hour or so before my first patient of the afternoon.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. I had told my boss that I would be in around noon, and it was already after eleven. “Will you be terribly heartbroken if I skip lunch this time? I want to pop in and check on Adrianne before I go to the office, if that’s OK.”
He smiled. “Of course. Give her my love, and tell her I’ll drop in to see her sometime this week,” he said. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”