Opal

Chapter 11

I hung around their house, hoping Dee would come back and I could chat with her, but everyone was leaving and she and Andrew hadn’t returned.

Standing on the front porch, I watched Ash and Matthew drive off, my heart heavy with regret and a billion other things. I didn’t need to look behind me to know that Daemon had joined me. I welcomed the warmth and strength his arms offered as they circled me from behind.

I leaned back against his chest, letting my eyes fall shut. He placed his chin atop my head and minutes passed with only the sound of a lonesome birdcall and a horn blowing off in the distance. Against my back, his heart beat steady and strong.

“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising me.

“For what?”

He drew in a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have flipped out over the whole Dawson thing last weekend. You did the right thing by telling him we’d help. If not, God knows what he would’ve done by now.” He paused long enough to kiss the top of my head, and I grinned. He was so forgiven. “And thank you for everything with Dawson. Even though our Saturday will take a turn into crapsville, Dawson… He’s been different since zombie night. Not the old Dawson, but close.”

I bit my lip. “You don’t need to thank me for that. Seriously.”

“I do. And I meant it.”

“Okay.” Several seconds passed. “Do you think we made a mistake? Letting Blake go that night?”

His arms tightened. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“We had good intentions, right? We wanted to give him a chance, I guess.” Then I laughed.

“What?”

My eyes opened. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions. We should’ve blasted his ass.”

Daemon lowered his head, his chin now on my shoulder. “Maybe I would’ve done something like that before you.”

I turned my head toward his. “What do you mean?”

“Before you came along, I would’ve killed Blake for what he did and felt like crap afterward, but I would’ve done it.” He pressed a kiss against my fluttering pulse. “And in a way, you did convince me. Not the way Dee thinks, but you could’ve taken out Blake, and you didn’t.”

Everything about that night seemed chaotic and surreal now. Adam’s lifeless body and then the Arum that had attacked… Vaughn and the gun… Blake running… “I don’t know.”

“I do,” he said, and his lips spread into a smile against my cheek. “You make me think before I act. You make me want to be a better person—Luxen—whatever.”

I faced him completely, peering up at him. “You are a good person.”

Daemon grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Kitten, you and I both know that’s incredibly rare.”

“No—”

He placed a finger over my lips. “I make terrible decisions. I can be a dickhead and I do it on purpose. I tend to bully people into doing what I want. And I let everything that had happened with Dawson amplify those…uh, personality traits. But—” He removed his finger, and his grin spread into a smile. “But you…you make me want to be different. That’s why I didn’t kill Blake. It’s why I don’t want you making those decisions or for you to be around me if I am choosing those things.”

Overwhelmed by what he’d admitted, I didn’t know what to say. But he lowered his head and kissed me, and I learned that sometimes when someone says something so devastatingly perfect, there isn’t a need for a response. The words said it all.

…

I spent Saturday morning with my mom. We had a greasy, artery-killing breakfast at IHOP and then wasted a couple of hours dollar-store shopping. Usually I’d rather pluck my eyelashes out than meander those aisles, but I wanted to spend time with her.

Tonight, Daemon and I were meeting Blake—only us, per his request. Matthew and Andrew were going to play parking-lot spies as backup, since Dee and Dawson, for very different reasons, had been banned from coming within a mile of the place.

There was no telling what was going to happen, though. This could be my last Saturday, my last anything with my mom. And that made the whole experience bittersweet and scary. So many times over breakfast and while in the car I wanted to tell her what was going on, but I couldn’t. And even if I could, the words probably wouldn’t have come out. She was having fun—thrilled to spend time with me—and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it.

But the what-ifs haunted me. What if this were a trap? What if the DOD or Daedalus took us in? What if I became Beth and my mom never heard from me again? What if she moved back to Gainesville to escape the memory of me?

By the time we got home, I was pretty sure I was going to hurl. My stomach twisted and turned around the food. It was so bad that I went to lie down while Mom got some sleep before her shift started.

About an hour of staring at the wall later, Daemon texted and I responded, telling him to let himself in. No sooner had I hit send than I felt warmth shooting across the back of my neck and I rolled toward the door.

Daemon made no sound as he eased my door open and slid though, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Your mom’s asleep?”

I nodded.

His gaze searched my face, and then he shut the door behind him. A heartbeat later, he was sitting beside me, brows drawn tight. “You’re worried.”

How he knew was beyond me. I started to tell him that I wasn’t worried, because I hated the idea of him stressing out over me or thinking I was weak, but I didn’t want to be strong right now. I needed comfort—I wanted him. “Yeah, a little.”

He smiled. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Daemon ran the tips of his fingers down my cheek, and I realized then that I could have both. I could freak out a little on the inside and need him, but I could still be strong enough to get up at six and meet our fate head-on. I could be both.

God, I needed a little of both.

Wordlessly, I scooted over, giving him room. Daemon slid under the covers, throwing a heavy arm over my waist. I curled against him, resting my head under his chin, my hands folded on his chest. Using my fingers, I drew a heart above his, and he chuckled.

We lay there for a couple of hours. Sometimes talking and laughing quietly, making sure we didn’t wake my mom. For a while, we dozed together and then I’d wake, tangled in his arms and legs. Other times, we kissed and the kissing…well, it took up most of the time.

He was just so damn good at it.

My lips felt swollen as he grinned at me, his lids heavily hooded, but behind those lashes, his eyes were like the color of dewy spring grass. Along the nape of his neck, his hair curled. I loved running my fingers through it, straightening the strands out and watching them spring back into place. And he liked when I played with it. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head to the side so I got better access, much like a cat stretching to be petted.

Ah, the little things in life.

Daemon caught my hand as I slid it around, over the thick muscles in his neck. He brought my palm to his lips. My heart did the flutter thing, and then he kissed me again…and again. His hand moved to my hip, his fingers curling into the denim before slipping under the hem of my shirt, causing my pulse to pound through me. He rolled over me, his weight doing crazy things to my stomach.

As his hand crept up, my back arched. “Daemon—”

His mouth silenced whatever it was that I was going to say, and my brain emptied. There was just him and me. What we had to do later simply disappeared off my worry radar. I moved, throwing a leg over his and my—

Footsteps trotted down the hall.

Daemon faded out above me, reappearing at my desk chair. Grinning shamelessly, he picked up a book as I fixed myself.

“Book’s upside down,” I taunted, smoothing my hand over my hair.

Laughing under his breath, he turned it over and cracked it open. With seconds to spare, Mom knocked on the door and then opened it. Her eyes shot from the bed to the chair.

“Hello, Ms. Swartz,” Daemon said. “You look well-rested.”

I shot him a look and then clamped my hand over my mouth, stifling my giggles. He’d picked up one of the historical romance novels with the bodice-ripping, barrel-chested covers.

Mom arched a brow. Her expression basically read WTF, and I almost lost it. “Good evening, Daemon.” She turned to me, eyes narrowing.

Codpiece? Daemon mouthed, rolling his eyes.

“Bedroom door, Katy.” Mom headed back to the door. “You know the rules.”

“Sorry. We didn’t want to wake you.”

“How considerate, but it stays open.”

When her footsteps receded, Daemon chucked the book at my head. I raised my hand, stopping it so that it hovered, and snatched it out of the air. “Nice reading material.”

His eyes narrowed. “Shut up.”

I giggled.

…

There was no laughter as we pulled into Smoke Hole Diner’s parking lot a little before six. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Matthew’s SUV parked in the back. I seriously hoped he and Andrew paid attention.

“The DOD isn’t going to bust up in here,” Daemon said, pulling out the keys. “Not in public.”

“But Blake could freeze the entire place.”

“So can I.”

“Oh. I’ve never seen you do that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you have. I froze the truck. Remember? Saved your life and all?”

“Ah, yes.” I fought a grin. “You did do that.”

He reached over, flicking me gently under the chin. “Yeah, you better remember that. Plus, I’m not a show-off.”

Opening the door, I laughed. “You? Not a show-off? Okay.”

“What?” Fake outrage crossed his face as he shut the door and loped around the front of the SUV. “I’m very modest.”

“If I remember correctly, you said modesty was for saints and losers.” The bantering helped ease my nerves. “Modest is not a word I’d use to describe you.”

He dropped his arm over my shoulder. “I never said such a thing.”

“Liar.”

Daemon shot me a roguish grin as we headed in. I scanned the restaurant for Blake, my gaze dipping over the natural rock clusters jutting out of the floors and beside the booths, but he wasn’t here yet. The server seated us in a booth near the back, cozied up to the roaring fireplace. I tried to keep myself busy by ripping the napkin into tiny pieces.

“Going to eat that or are you making homemade hamster bedding?” he asked.

I laughed. “Organic kitty litter, actually.”

“Nice.”

A redheaded waitress appeared, wearing a bright smile. “Daemon, how are you doing? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Good. How about you, Jocelyn?”

Of course I had to give her more than a passing look, since the two were on a first-name basis. Not out of jealousy or anything. Yeah, right. Jocelyn was older than us but not by much. Maybe early twenties, but she was really, really pretty with all that red hair piled up in thick curls, surrounding a porcelain complexion.

Okay, she was beautiful…as in, Luxen beautiful.

I sat straighter.

“I’ve been real good,” she said. “I stepped down from managing since the babies. Working part-time instead, since they’re a handful, but you and your family should visit soon, especially since…” She looked at me for the first time, and her smile drooped. “Since Dawson has come back. Roland would love to see both of you.”

Total alien, I thought.

“We’d love to do that.” Daemon glanced at me and winked slyly. “By the way, Jocelyn, this is my girlfriend, Katy.”

I felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure as I extended my hand. “Hi.”

Jocelyn blinked, and I’d swear her face got even whiter. “Girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend,” Daemon repeated.

She recovered fast and shook my hand. A faint spark jumped from her skin to mine, and I pretended not to notice. “Nice…nice to meet you,” she said, quickly releasing my hand. “Uh, what can I get you two?”

“Two Cokes,” he ordered.

Jocelyn skedaddled off after that, and I raised my brows at Daemon. “Jocelyn…?”

He slid over another napkin for my pile. “Are you jealous, Kitten?”

“Pfft. Whatever.” I stopped tearing. “Okay, maybe a little until I realized she was in the ARP.”

“ARP?” He stood, coming to my side while saying, “Scoot.”

I scooted over. “Alien Relocation Program.”

“Ha.” He dropped his arm over the back of the booth and stretched out his legs. “Yeah, she’s good people.”

Jocelyn returned with our drinks and asked if we wanted to wait until our friend joined us to place our orders. That was a big fat no. Daemon ordered a meatloaf sandwich while I decided to eat half his order. I wasn’t sure I could stomach anything more.

He angled his body toward mine as soon as he finished deciding between fries and mashed potatoes—fries won. “Nothing’s going to happen,” he said, voice low. “Okay?”

Putting on a brave face, I nodded as I looked around the diner. “I just want to get this over with.”

Not even a minute later, the bells above the door jingled and before I could glance up, Daemon stiffened beside me. And I knew—I knew right then. My stomach lurched into my throat.

Spiky, bronze-tipped hair—styled messily with a ton of gel—came into view, and then hazel eyes locked on our table from the door.

Blake was here.