"I'll set up a pillow as a target. Then I'll show you," Kieran told me as he walked to the bed.
"Did you really teach yourself how to throw knives?" I asked him.
"Yes," he replied. "I practiced a lot because my parents refused to let me learn how to shoot. I wanted to be good at something."
I snorted.
"Okay Prodigy," I teased him.
"Okay, smarta.ss," he grumbled.
"Is it true that you made Derek learn how to make bombs?" I asked.
Kieran froze for just a moment. He didn't look at me, just continued to prop a few pillows against the wall. For a moment, I wasn't sure if Kieran was going to reply at all.
"I did," he finally admitted. "I thought it would be useful. Derek is very smart. He can make and defuse bombs. For the most part, that is. He didn't necessarily want to, but agreed that
