Onyx

Chapter 20

Days and then weeks went by. Each morning started the same as the one before. I’d wake up dizzy, feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Every day the dark smudges under my eyes grew more prominent.

I didn’t speak to my mom most mornings, which blew, because that was the only time we really got to see each other. She was busy with work and Will, and I was busy with school; Blake; and a distant, closed-off Daemon. Who spent most of the practices watching Blake like a hawk does when searching for prey.

A frosty air had developed between Daemon and me, and no matter how many times I tried to start up a conversation about our relationship, he was quick to shut me down. My heart ached.

Even though he didn’t stop the training sessions and rarely missed them, he was still dead set against them. Most of our time alone consisted of him trying to convince me that Blake was no good. That there was something inherently wrong with the boy, other than the fact he was a hybrid. Like me.

But as the weeks passed and the DOD didn’t storm the house for me, I chalked it up to Daemon’s rightful paranoia. He had reason not to trust the guy. Given what happened with Dawson and Bethany, he was leery of all humans.

And Blake did his best to handle Daemon. I had to give it to him. Not many people would keep coming back, especially considering I sucked butt at the whole ability thing and Daemon made him feel less than welcome. Blake was patient and supportive, while Daemon was the pissy pink elephant in the room with the bad attitude.

All the training after school affected any and all social life. Everyone knew that Blake and I were hanging out. No one, not even Dee, realized that Daemon was there, too. Since she was spending all of her time over at Adam’s, she didn’t know where Daemon was or what he was doing. So Carissa and Lesa believed that Blake and I were dating, and I’d given up on trying to convince them otherwise. And it blew, because they thought I was so wrapped up in him that nothing else mattered. Without even doing it, I’d turned into one of those girls whose life ceases to exist outside of her boyfriend.

And I didn’t even have a boyfriend.

Their detailed attempts to draw me back into their world were incessant, but each time Dee wanted to take a shopping trip or Lesa wanted to grab something to eat after school, I had to turn them down.

My evenings were all about training. There was no time for reading. No time for my blog. Those things I once spent all my free time doing were now pushed to the side.

I always asked Blake the same question before we got started. “Have you seen any Arum?”

The answer was always the same. “No.”

And then Daemon would show up and things usually got crazy at some point. Blake would try to teach me while ignoring the homicidal alien taking up way too much room.

“Technically, whenever we use our abilities, we are sending a piece of ourselves,” he explained. “Like if I want to pick something up, a part of me is doing that as an extension of me. It’s why using our powers weakens us.”

That really made no sense to me, but I nodded. Daemon rolled his eyes.

Blake laughed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Nope.” I smiled.

“All right, back to the arms, then.” His fingers slipped over the curve of my shoulders, and the crazy began.

Daemon was up and off the couch in a nanosecond, forcing Blake to back away. I took a deep, patient breath and faced the alien.

He glared Blake into submission. “I think I can help her with this.”

Sitting on the arm of the couch, Blake waved his hand. “Sure. Whatever. She’s all yours.”

Daemon grinned. “That she is.”

My hand was itching to connect with his face. “I am not yours.” A small part of me wanted him to deny my words, though.

“Shush it,” he said, walking up to me.

“How about I shush it right up your—”

“Kitten, your language is so unladylike.” He stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Admittedly, the static charge from his touch was much more powerful…and tempting. He leaned in, his cheek against my hair. “Ben over there is on to something. Whenever we use our ability—tap into the Source—we are sending a part of us to do it. It’s like an extension of our physical form.”

Daemon was making just as much sense as Blake, but I went along with it.

“Picture having hundreds of arms.”

I did as he instructed. In my head, I imagined I looked like that Hindu goddess. I giggled.

“Katy.” Blake sighed.

“Sorry.”

“Now take those arms and make them transparent in your mind.” Daemon paused. “You can see those arms; see the books all over the living room. Can you? I know you know where each and every one is placed.”

Knowing that if I spoke, I’d break my concentration, I nodded.

“Okay. Good.” His fingers tightened. “Now I want you to turn those arms into light. An intense, bright light.”

“Like…your light?”

“Yes.”

I took another breath and pictured my Hindu arms as long, slender ribbons of light. Yeah, I looked ridiculous.

“Do you see it?” he asked softly. “And do you believe it?”

Pausing before I answered, I worked really hard to believe what I was seeing. The arms of blinding white light were mine. Like Daemon and Blake had said, they were extensions of my being. I imagined each of those hands picking up the books scattered about.

“Open your eyes,” Blake instructed.

When I did, books floated around the room. I moved them to the coffee table, stacking them in alphabetic order without laying a finger on them. A heady thrill went through me. Finally! Ecstatic, I almost started jumping and squealing.

Daemon let go, his smile an odd mixture of pride and something much more. It tugged at my heart. So much so that I had to look away, and my gaze collided with Blake’s.

He grinned at me, and I grinned back. “I actually did something.”

“You did.” He stood. “And it was pretty damn good. Nice work.”

I turned to say something to Daemon, but there was a rush of warm air and I realized the spot where Daemon had stood was empty. A door opened and then closed.

Surprised, I turned to Blake. “I…”

“He sure can move fast,” he said, shaking his head. “I can move fast, but damn. Not as fast as him.”

I nodded, blinking back hot tears. The one time I actually did something right, Daemon bailed. How freaking typical.

“Katy,” Blake said softly, wrapping his hand around my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I pulled free, dragging in deep breaths.

He followed me into the living room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I choked out a laugh, embarrassed. “No.”

Blake was silent for several moments. “It’s probably better this way.”

“It is?” I folded my arms, willing my tears to go away. Crying fixed nothing.

He nodded. “From what I’ve gathered, relationships between the Luxen and humans don’t work out. And before you tell me there’s nothing between you two, I know better. I can see the way you look at each other. But it’s not going to work out.”

If this was supposed to be a motivational speech, it was so not working. Blake picked up the first book, smoothing his hands over the glossy purple cover. “It’s better if you cut ties. Or he does, before someone gets hurt.”

My stomach hollowed. “Hurt?”

He nodded solemnly. “Look at it this way. If he thought the DOD was onto you, what do you think he’d do? Risk his life, right? And if the DOD does find out you’ve been mutated, they’re going to want to know who did it. Their first guess is going to be him.”

I started to tell Blake that it wasn’t Daemon, but that would just sound suspicious, and damn if he didn’t have a point. Daemon was the obvious suspect. I sat down, rubbing the heel of my hand over my forehead. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said finally.

Blake sat beside me. “Do we ever? But what we want rarely changes the outcome, Katy.”

…

In trig the following day, Daemon tapped his pen off my back. “I’m not going to be at your training today,” he said in a low voice.

Disappointment swelled inside me. Even though Daemon usually wasn’t the most helpful person during these sessions, I truly believed the reason I’d been able to move the books was because of him.

And yeah, I also looked forward to seeing him. Sigh.

I forced a shrug, playing it cool. “Okay.”

His emerald-colored eyes met mine for a brief moment and then he sat back, scribbling along his notebook. Feeling as if I’d been dismissed, I faced the front of the class and exhaled slowly.

Carissa tossed a folded-up note on my desk. Curious, I spread it open.

Why the :( face?

Gosh, was I that obvious? I scribbled a quick message:

Just tired. heart your new glasses.

And I did. They were a rocking zebra print. I managed to toss the note back to her. We weren’t worried about our teacher—it was doubtful he could see all the way to the back of the classroom. The guy made Santa look young.

A few seconds later, the note was back on my desk. I grinned as I unfolded it.

Thank you. Lesa wants me to tell you: “Daemon looks hot today.” I have to agree.

I laughed under my breath and wrote back,

Daemon always looks hot!!!

Stretching into the aisle, I went to drop the note back on Carissa’s desk. Before it could leave my fingertips, it was snatched from my hand. Son of a donkey butt! My mouth dropped open and my cheeks burned. Twisting around in my seat, I glared at Daemon.

He held the note close to his chest and grinned. “Passing notes is bad,” he murmured.

“Give it back,” I hissed.

Shaking his head, he unfolded the note much to my—and I’m sure, to Lesa’s and Carissa’s—horror. I wanted to die as I watched those vibrant eyes quickly scan the note. I knew when he got to my part, because his dark brows shot up his forehead.

He grinned, used his mouth to pop off the cap on his pen, and wrote something on the page. Groaning, I glanced at Lesa and Carissa. Lesa’s mouth was hanging open and Carissa’s cheeks matched mine. God, he was taking enough time.

Daemon finally folded the note and handed it back. “There you go, Kitten.”

“I hate you.” I snapped around—just in time, because the teach was scanning the classroom. When he went back to the chalkboard, I handled the note like it was a bomb. Slowly and carefully, I unfolded the damn thing.

And I died a little more.

That note would never, ever see the light of day again. I refolded the paper and shoved it in my bookbag, my movements stiff and my entire body enflamed.

Daemon chuckled.

…

For several days, Blake and I worked alone. Unsurprisingly, things were a lot smoother without Daemon’s threatening presence. With Blake’s coaching, I went from being able to move small objects for short periods of time to rearranging the entire living room with a single thought. Each time I was successful, Blake got all kinds of happy, and I tried to join in the revelry—because this was good—but there was always an edge of disappointment riding each accomplishment.

I wanted to share my successes with Daemon, and he wasn’t there.

Blake eventually moved on to harder stuff, attempting to teach me how to control the more powerful things through a horrible series of trial-and-error experiments. The first time I’d attempted to control fire ended up with what I swore were second-degree burns on my fingers.

He’d presented me with a series of white candles and my goal was to light all of them at once through concentration. I was allowed to touch each of them, and after several hours of staring at them with a seriously empty stomach, I’d managed to light one by picturing the flame in my mind and holding the image.

Once I had mastered that, I could no longer touch the candle. Instead I had to create the fire just by looking at it. Blake waved his hand over the candles, and all the wicks sparked a tiny flame.

“Easy peasy,” he said, and then ran his hand over them again. The flames went out.

“How did you do that—putting them out? Can the Luxen do that?”

He smiled at me. “They can only control things related to some form of light, right? So moving, stopping things, and fire are all right up their alley. They can generate enough energy to create electricity and fuel a storm.”

I nodded, remembering how it had stormed that day Daemon had returned from the lake and Mr. Garrison had been waiting for him.

“And it’s like pulling atoms from the air around us, so yes, they can create wind. We’re just stronger than they are at it.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand how.”

He shrugged. “They have only one kind of DNA.” He paused, frowning. “If they have DNA. But let’s say they do for argument’s sake. We have two different sets of DNA in us. Like the best of both worlds.”

Not very scientific.

“Anyway, try it.” He prodded me with his knee.

I did exactly what I had done while holding the candle, but something went wrong.

My fingers lit up like the Fourth of July.

“Holy shit!” Blake jumped out of the way, pulling me along with him. Shock had set in as he dragged me into the kitchen and shoved my hands under a rush of cool water. It was the first time I’d heard Blake swear.

“Katy, I asked you to light the candle, not your damn fingers! It’s really not that hard. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I watched my skin turn an ugly shade of pink and then red. It didn’t take long before the skin puckered and blistered.

“You may not be able to control fire or start it,” he commented, gently wrapping my fingers in a towel. “If you could, it shouldn’t have burned you. The fire would have been a part of you. But what that was? That was real honest-to-God fire.”

I frowned as my fingers throbbed. “Wait a sec. There’s a chance I can’t work with fire and you let me do that?”

“How else am I going to figure out your limitations?”

“What the hell!” I pulled my hand free, furious. “That’s not cool, Blake. What’s next? Trying to stop a moving vehicle by standing in front of it, but whoops, I can’t do that and now I’m dead?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “You should be able to do that. At least, I hope so.”

Disgusted with him, I went back to the candles. Needing to prove myself, I tried again and again. I couldn’t light the fire without touching the candles no matter how hard I tried.

The following morning I had to come up with a good excuse for my mom. It involved something stupid like placing my hand on a lit burner, but she believed me, and I even scored some weak pain pills.

Later that night, Blake explained that he’d never been able to heal anyone. When I asked when and why he’d been presented with the opportunity, he didn’t get a chance to answer. Warmth tingled over my neck and then a few seconds later there was a knock on my door.

I shot up. “Daemon.”

“Woo hoo.” Blake exuded so much false enthusiasm he could’ve been an actor.

Ignoring him, I rushed to the front door. “Hey,” I gasped, feeling hot and dizzy when I saw him. It never failed to amaze me how striking Daemon really was. “Are you helping tonight?”

Daemon’s gaze dropped to my bandaged fingers and nodded. “Yeah. Where’s Bilbo?”

“Blake,” I corrected. “He’s in the living room.”

He shut the door behind him. “About your hand…”

When Daemon had asked me about it in class earlier, I’d avoided answering, because I seriously doubted he would think how it happened was kosher. The last thing any of us needed was for him to kill Blake over my own ineptitude.

“I burned it on the stove last night.” I shrugged, looking down at the tips of his black boots peeking out from his denim jeans.

“That…is…”

I sighed. “Lame?”

“Yeah, really lame, Kat. Maybe you should stay away from the stove for a little while?”

He sidled past me and headed for the living room. I trailed behind, knowing I couldn’t leave him alone with Blake for any amount of time.

Blake gave him a halfhearted wave. “Nice of you to join us again.”

Grinning, Daemon plopped down next to Blake and spread his arm over the back of the couch, crowding the other boy. “I know you’ve missed me. It’s all right, I’m here.”

“Yeah,” Blake said, sounding real genuine.

We got started with moving stuff around for a little while and Daemon didn’t say much, not even a “Wow” or a “Congratulations,” but he watched me. Constantly.

“Moving stuff is just a parlor trick, really.” Blake’s arms were pinned to his chest.

“Wow.” Daemon cocked his head to the side. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

Blake ignored him. “The good news is you can do it on command now, but that doesn’t mean you have control. I hope it does, but we really don’t know.”

Damn. Blake was such a downer sometimes.

“I have an idea. You’re going to need to completely trust me. If I ask you to do something, you can’t fire back with a thousand questions.” He paused while Daemon’s eyes narrowed. “We need to see something amazing.”

Amazing? I was moving stuff without touching it! That’s pretty amazing in my book. But then again, there was the fire hoopla. “I’m doing my best.”

“Your best isn’t good enough.” He exhaled loudly. “Okay. Stay here.”

I glanced at Daemon as Blake disappeared into the foyer. “I have no idea what he’s up to.”

Daemon arched a brow. “I’m guessing it’s going to be something I don’t like.”

Like there was much Blake could do that Daemon would like. What he didn’t know or get was that Blake hadn’t put the moves on me. Not once since he’d tried to hug me that day in the diner. But maybe it was just plain old dislike.

While we waited, I heard drawers opening in the kitchen. There was a clank of silverware. Oh goodie, more glassware to destroy.

Blake returned and stopped in the doorway, one hand behind his back. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

He smiled and then cocked his arm back. Light reflected off the sharp edge of metal. A knife? And then the butcher knife was flying straight at my chest.

A scream caught in my throat. I threw up my hand, horrified and panicked. The knife stopped in midair. Frozen inches from my chest, pointy end facing toward me. It just stayed there, suspended.

Blake clapped. “I knew it!”

I stared at him as my critical-thinking skills slowly trickled back in. “What the hell, Blake?”

Several things happened all at once. Now that my concentration was broken, the knife fell out of the air, smacking off the floor harmlessly. Blake was still clapping. I let loose several curses that would’ve caused my mom to cry and Daemon, who’d appeared to have been knocked into a stupor by what Blake had done, snapped out of it.

Daemon shot off that couch like a rocket, simultaneously flipping into his true form. A heartbeat later, he had Blake pinned halfway up the wall, swathed in an intense whitish-red light that lit up the entire living room.

I craned my neck and whispered, “Holy smokes.”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Blake yelled, arms flailing in the light. “You need to check yourself. Katy wasn’t in any danger.”

There was no response from Daemon, not one that Blake could hear, anyway, but I did. Loud and clear. That’s it. I’m going to kill him.

Windows began to shake and walls trembled. The flat-screen on the TV stand rattled. All around, little puffs of plaster filled the air. Daemon’s light flared, swallowing Blake whole, and for a horrible moment, I really thought he had killed Blake.

“Daemon!” I shrieked, darting around the coffee table. “Stop!”

But then there was a crackling sound, like air heated and charged after a lightning strike. Still in his Luxen form, Daemon jerked back and let Blake go. The boy landed on his feet and staggered to the side as he rose.

Daemon hummed and started toward Blake, but I got in the middle. “Okay. You two need to freaking stop.”

Blake ran both his hands down his shirt, straightening it. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You did throw a freaking knife at me,” I shot back. Wrong thing to say, because I heard Daemon promise, I will break him in two. “Stop.”

An arm appeared in the light and fingers brushed along my cheek. The touch was soft as silk and brief, lasting only half of a second and so quick that I doubted Blake even saw it. Then his light flickered out. He stood in his human form, trembling with barely restrained rage, his eyes white and sharp like icicles. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“She wasn’t in any danger! If I thought for a second she couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have thrown it at her!”

Daemon sidestepped me, his large hand curled into a fist. Human or alien, Daemon could do some real damage. “But there was no way you would’ve known she could do it! Not a hundred percent!”

Turning wide, pleading eyes to me, Blake shook his head. “I swear you were never in any danger, Katy. If I thought you couldn’t stop it, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Daemon cursed again and I moved, blocking him. “Who does that?” Daemon demanded. Heat rolled off his body.

“Actually, Kiefer Sutherland did. In the original Buffy movie,” he explained. When I continued to gape at him, he grimaced. “It was on TV a few nights ago. He threw one at Buffy and she caught it.”

“That was Donald Sutherland—the dad,” Daemon corrected, much to my surprise.

Blake shrugged. “Same difference.”

“I’m not Buffy!” I yelled.

A slow grin pulled at his lips. “You are definitely cuter than Buffy.”

And that wasn’t the right thing to say. Daemon growled low in his throat. “You got a death wish? Because you’re really pushing it tonight, buddy. I’m dead serious. Really pushing it. I can hold you up against that wall until you run out of juice. Can you hold me off forever? No? I didn’t think so.”

Blake’s jaw jutted out. “Okay. I’m sorry. But if she hadn’t been able to catch it, I would’ve stopped it. Just like you would’ve. No harm. No foul.”

A whirlwind of rage was building inside Daemon and I doubted I could stop him again if he went after Blake. I tensed. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“But—”

“Blake, I really think you should leave,” I said meaningfully. “Okay? I think you need to go.”

Blake looked over my shoulder and seemed to get it, because he nodded. “All right.” He started toward the door and stopped. “But you did great, Katy. I don’t think you realize how awesome that was.”

A low hum rattled the floors and Blake took his cue, hightailing his behind out of the house. Only when I heard the rumbling of his truck’s engine did I relax.

“No more,” Daemon said, voice low. “Absolutely no more.”

Slowly, I turned around. His eyes were still doing the glow thing. Up close, they were sort of beautiful—odd but really striking.

“He could have killed you, Kat. I’m not okay with that. I won’t be okay with that.”

“Daemon, he wasn’t trying to kill me.”

He looked incredulous. “Are you insane?”

“No.” Tired, I bent and picked up the huge serial-killer knife. As I held it, it sunk in that I had stopped a knife whizzing toward my chest. I faced Daemon, swallowing.

He was still ranting. “I don’t want you doing any more training with him. I don’t even want you near him. That boy’s got a few screws loose.”

Freezing anything was a huge deal. It was one of the most powerful uses of the Source, Blake and Daemon had both said, with the exception of using it as a weapon.

“I’m going to give him back-alley plastic surgery. I can’t—”

“Daemon,” I whispered.

“—believe he did that.” All of a sudden, he was wrapping his arms around me, hauling me against his chest. By some miracle, I didn’t stab him. “Jesus, Kat, he could have hurt you.”

Somewhat shocked by the close contact that he’d avoided since the evening he made me a sandwich, I didn’t move at first. His entire body hummed. The hand that came up, wrapping around the back of my head, shook slightly.

“Look, you’ve obviously got some control. I can help you work on it,” he said, resting his chin against the top of my head, and God, his arms, his body was so warm and so perfect. “This can’t happen again.”

“Daemon.” My voice was muffled against his chest.

“What?” He pulled back a little, lowering his chin.

“I froze it.”

His brows knitted. “Huh?”

“I froze the knife.” I wiggled free, waving the thing around. “I didn’t just stop it, but I froze it. The thing was just hovering in air.”

It seemed to hit him, too. “Holy…”

I laughed. “God, that’s pretty huge, isn’t it?”

Daemon nodded. “It is. That’s…that’s a big deal.”

Excitement thrummed through me. “We can’t stop training.”

“Kat—”

“We can’t! Look, throwing a knife at me isn’t cool. And God knows, I’m not exactly thrilled that he did it, but it worked. It really worked. We’re getting somewhere—”

“What part of ’He could’ve killed you’ don’t you understand?” Daemon backed off, which usually meant he was really, really angry. “I don’t want you training with him. Not when he’s putting your life in danger.”

“He’s not putting my life in danger.” Besides catching my fingers on fire and the knife incident—but still, the risks were worth it. If I could control these abilities and actually use them to protect Daemon and Dee, then I wouldn’t be just a human—or just a mutated human one step away from exposing them to the world.

“We can’t stop,” I reasoned. “I’ll be able to control it and use the Source, just like you and Dee can. I can help you—”

“Help me with what?” Daemon stared at me, then laughed. “Help me to fight Arum?”

Okay. I wasn’t going that far, but now that he mentioned it, why not? According to Blake, I had potential to be stronger than Daemon. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tapped the edge of the knife on my arm. “Yeah, what if I wanted to?”

He laughed again, and I wanted to kick him. “Kitten, you’re not helping me fight Arum.”

“Why not? If I can control the Source and help, why not? I could fight.”

“I think the reasons are pretty huge,” he yelled, all the humor vanishing. “First off, you’re a human.”

“Not really.”

His eyes narrowed. “Granted, you’re a mutated human, but a human who’s a hell of a lot weaker and more vulnerable than a Luxen.”

I exhaled slowly. “You don’t know how weak or vulnerable I’ll be fully trained.”

“Whatever. Secondly, you have no business going up against the Arum. That will never happen.”

“Daemon—”

“It won’t if I’m still alive. Do you understand that? You will never go after an Arum. I don’t care if you can stop the world from spinning.”

I tried to push down my anger. One thing I hated more than Daemon’s douche-nozzle side was him telling me what to do. “You don’t own me, Daemon.”

“It’s not about ownership, you little nut.”

“Nut?” I glared at him. “I wouldn’t call me names when I have a knife in my hand.”

He ignored that. “Thirdly, there is something off about Blake. You can’t tell me you don’t see or sense that.”

“Oh, don’t—”

“You know nothing about him—nothing deeper than that he likes to surf and blog. Big deal.”

“These aren’t good enough reasons.”

“Because I don’t want you in danger—how about that? Is that damn good enough for you?” he shouted, and I jumped. He looked away, drawing in several deep breaths.

I hadn’t realized that could’ve been the real reason behind it all. About every part of me softened, and my temper slipped away like a snowflake melting. “Daemon, you can’t stop me just to protect me.”

His head swung back to me. “I need to protect you.”

Need was such a strong word that it stole my breath and my heart. “Daemon, I’m flattered—I am, but your job is not to protect me. I’m not Dee. I’m not another one of your responsibilities.”

“Damn right you’re not Dee! But you are my responsibility. I got you into this mess. And I will not be dragging you further into it!”

My head was spinning. His reasons for wanting me to stop training with Blake were right but all wrong. I needed to prove to him that I wasn’t a liability or something to be constantly watched over. If he felt that way and did keep putting himself in jeopardy because of me, he could lose his own life or Dee’s.

“I’m not stopping,” I said.

Daemon stared at me. “Does it even matter that I don’t want you in that kind of danger? That I won’t facilitate something as idiotic as you gearing up to go against the Arum?”

I flinched. Ouch, that stung. “Wanting to help you and your kind is idiotic?”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah, it is.”

“Daemon,” I whispered. “I get that you care—”

“You don’t get it. That’s the problem!” He stopped, pulling it all back in, sucking the air right out of the room with it. “I won’t be a part of this. I mean it, Katy. You chose this, then…whatever. I won’t have this hanging over my head like I do every freaking day with Dawson. I won’t make another mistake and condone this.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. My chest ached at the thought of him carrying that kind of guilt—guilt that didn’t belong to him. “Daemon—”

“What will it be, Katy?” He looked at me dead-on. “Tell me now.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. Didn’t he see? Going through with this would give me a better chance of not turning out like Bethany and Dawson, of being able to take care of myself and protect him, because one day, he’d need it.

Daemon took a step back as though I’d hit him. “That was the wrong thing to say.” His face turned hard, his eyes like glaciers. The coldness radiating from him chilled me to the bone. He’d never looked more detached. “I’m done.”