I pushed up from the table, ignoring the rolling in my stomach. “I’ll get changed.”
Surprise widened his eyes as he stepped back. “Caving in so easily?”
“Caving in?” I laughed without feeling. “I just want you out of my face.”
Daemon chuckled deeply. “Keep telling yourself that, Kitten.”
“Keep using your ego steroids.”
In a blink of an eye, he was in front of me, blocking my exit. Then he prowled forward, head lowered and eyes full of intent. I backed up until my hands found the edge of the kitchen table.
“What?” I demanded.
Placing his hands on either side of my hips, he bent forward. His breath was warm against my cheek and our eyes locked. He moved a fraction of an inch closer, and his lips brushed my chin. A strangled gasp escaped the back of my throat, and I swayed toward him.
A heartbeat later, Daemon pulled back, chuckling smugly. “Yeah…not my ego, Kitten. Go get ready.”
Dammit!
Giving him the finger, I left the kitchen and went upstairs. My skin still felt clammy and gross and it had nothing to do with what happened, but I changed into a pair of sweats and a thermal. Running was the last thing I wanted to do. Not like I expected Daemon to care I wasn’t feeling well.
He only cared about himself and his sister.
That’s not true, whispered an insidious, annoying voice in my head. But maybe that voice was correct. He had healed me when he could’ve left me to die and I had heard his thoughts, heard him begging me not to leave him.
Either way, I had to swallow the urge to puke and go for a fun jog. Some sixth sense knew this wasn’t going to end well.
Chapter 2
I lasted twenty minutes.
With the uneven terrain of the woods, the brisk November wind, and the boy next to me, I couldn’t do it. Leaving him halfway to the lake, I speed walked all the way back to the house. Daemon called out to me a couple of times, but I ignored him. Within a minute of reaching my bathroom, I threw up—the clutching-the-toilet, on-my-knees, tears-streaming-down-my-face kind of hurling. It was so bad I woke up Mom.
She hurried into the bathroom, pulling my hair back. “How long have you been feeling sick, honey? A few hours, all day, or just now?”
Mom—ever the nurse. “On and off all day,” I moaned, resting my head against the tub.
Tsking under her breath, she placed her hand against my forehead. “Honey, you’re burning up.” She grabbed a towel and ran it under the tap. “I should probably call in to work—”
“No, I’m okay.” I took the towel from her, pressing it against my forehead. The coolness was wonderful. “It’s just the flu. And I feel better already.”
Mom clucked over me until I got up and took a shower. Changing into a long sleep shirt took an absurd amount of time. The room did a Tilt-a-Whirl on me as I climbed under the covers, and I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for Mom to return.
“Here’s your phone and some water.” She placed both on the table and sat beside me. “Open up.” Prying one eye open, I saw a thermometer shoved at my face. I obediently opened my mouth. “Depending on how high your temperature is, we will determine if I’m staying home,” she told me. “It’s probably just the flu, but…”
“Mmm,” I groaned.
She gave me a bland look and waited until the thing beeped. “One hundred and one. I want you to take this.” Pausing, she handed me two pills. I downed them, no questions asked. “The temp isn’t that bad, but I want you to stay in bed and rest. I’ll call and check on you before ten, okay?”
I nodded and then snuggled down. Sleep was all I needed. She folded up another damp cloth and placed it over my forehead. I closed my eyes, almost certain I was approaching stage one of a zombie infection.
A weird fog entered my brain. I slept, waking up once to check in with Mom, and then again past midnight. The night shirt was damp, clinging to my feverish skin. I went to push the blankets off and noticed they were across the room, covering my cluttered computer desk.
Cold sweat dotted my forehead as I sat up. My thumping heart echoed in my head, heavy and erratic. Two beats at once, it seemed. My skin felt stretched tight over my muscles—hot and prickly. I stood, and the room spun.
I was so hot, burning up from the inside. My insides felt as if they’d melted into goo. My thoughts ran into one another, a never-ending train of nonsense. All I knew was that I needed to cool down.
The door to the hallway swung open, beckoning me. I didn’t know where I was going, but I stumbled down the hall and then downstairs. The front door was like a beacon, promising relief. It would be cold outside. Then I would be cold.
But it wasn’t enough.
I stood on the porch, the wind blowing my damp shirt and hair back. Stars lined the night sky, intensely bright. I lowered my gaze and the trees lining the road shifted colors. Yellow. Gold. Red. Then they turned a muted shade of brown.
I was dreaming, I realized.
In a daze, I stepped off the porch. Pieces of gravel poked at my feet, but I kept walking, the moonlight leading the way. Several times the world felt like it turned upside down, but I pushed on.
It didn’t take me long to reach the lake. Under the pale light, the onyx-colored water rippled. I moved forward, stopping when my toes sunk through loose dirt. Prickling heat scorched my skin as I stood there. Burning. Sweltering.
“Kat?”
Slowly, I turned. Wind whipped around me as I stared at the apparition. Moonlight sliced his face in shadows, reflecting in his wide, bright eyes. He couldn’t be real.
“What are you doing, Kitten?” Daemon asked.
He seemed fuzzy. Daemon was never fuzzy. Fast and blurry sometimes, yes, but never fuzzy. “I…I need to cool down.”
Understanding shot across his face. “Don’t you dare go into that lake.”
I moved backward. Icy water lapped at my ankles and then my knees. “Why?”
“Why?” He took a step forward. “It’s too cold. Kitten, don’t make me come in there and get you.”
My head throbbed. Brain cells were definitely melting. I sunk farther down. Cold water soothed the burning in my skin. It washed over my head, stealing my breath and the fire. The burn eased, nearly fading. I could stay under here forever. Maybe I would.
Strong, solid arms surrounded me, pulling me back to the surface. Frigid air rushed me, but my lungs were seared. I dragged in deep gulps, hoping to extinguish the flames. Daemon was pulling me out of the blessed water, moving so fast I was in the water one second and standing on shore the next.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, grasping my shoulders and giving me a light shake. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Don’t.” I pushed at him weakly. “I’m so hot.”
His intense gaze drifted down to my toes. “Yeah, you’re hot. The whole wet white shirt… It’s working, Kitten, but a midnight swim in November? That’s a little daring, don’t you think?”
He wasn’t making sense. The reprieve was over, and my skin was burning again. I stumbled from his hands, back toward the lake.
His arms were around me before I took two steps, turning me around. “Kat, you can’t get in the lake. It’s too cold. You’re going to get sick.” He brushed back the hair plastered to my cheeks. “Hell—sicker than you already are. You’re burning up.”
Something in what he said cleared a bit of the haze. I leaned into him, pressing my cheek into his chest. He smelled wonderful. Like spice and man. “I don’t want you.”
“Uh, now is not the time to get into that conversation.”
This was just a dream. I sighed, wrapping my arms around his taut waist. “But I do want you.”
Daemon’s arms tightened around me. “I know, Kitten. You aren’t fooling anyone. Come on.”
Letting go, my arms hung limply at my sides. “I…I don’t feel good.”
“Kat.” He pulled back. Both hands were on my face, holding my head up. “Kat, look at m
e.”
I wasn’t looking at him? My legs gave out. And then there was nothing. No Daemon. No thoughts. No fire. No Katy.
…
Things were hazy, disjointed. Warm hands kept the hair back from my face. Fingers smoothed over my cheek. A deep voice spoke to me in a language that was musical and soft. Like a song, but…more beautiful and comforting. I sunk into the sound, lost for a little while.
I heard voices.
Once, I thought I heard Dee. “You can’t. It’ll just make the trace worse.”
I was moved around. Wet clothing stripped away. Something warm and soft slid over my skin. I tried talking to the voices around me, and maybe I did. I wasn’t sure.
At some point, I was wrapped in a cloud and carried somewhere. A steady heart beat under my cheek, lulling me until the voices faded and cool hands eventually replaced the warm ones. Bright lights intruded. I heard more voices. Mom? Mom sounded worried. She was talking to…someone. Someone I didn’t recognize. He had the cool hands. There was a prick in my arm, a dull pain that radiated to my fingers. More hushed voices, and then I heard nothing.
There was no day or night, but this weird in-between where a fire raged in my body. Then the cool hands were back, pulling my arm out from underneath the covers. I didn’t hear Mom as I felt the prick again on my skin. Heat swept inside me, rushing through my veins. Gasping, I arched my back off the bed, and a strangled scream escaped the back of my throat. Everything burned. A fire raged inside me ten times worse than before, and I knew I was dying. I had to be…
And then there was a coolness in my veins, like a rush of winter’s air. It moved quickly, dousing the flames and leaving a trail of ice in its wake.
The hands moved to my neck, tugging something up. A chain…my necklace? The hands were gone, but I felt the obsidian humming, vibrating above me. And then I slept for what felt like an eternity, not certain I was ever going to wake up.
…
Four days of being in the hospital, and I had next to no recollection of any of it. Only that I woke up Wednesday in an uncomfortable bed, staring at a white ceiling and feeling fine. Great, even. Mom had been by my side, and it took a hefty amount of bitching to get released after I spent all day Thursday telling anyone who came within a block of my door that I wanted to go home. I’d obviously had a bad case of the flu, not something serious.
Now Mom watched me with shadowed eyes as I downed the glass of orange juice from our fridge. She was in jeans and a light sweater. It was odd seeing her out of her scrubs. “Honey, are you sure you’re feeling well enough to go back to class? You can take today off and go back on Monday if you want.”
I shook my head. Missing three days of classes already earned me the truckload of homework Dee had dropped off last night. “I’m fine.”
“Honey, you were in the hospital. You should take it easy.”
I washed out the cup. “I’m okay. Really, I am.”
“I know you think you’re feeling better.” She fixed my cardigan which I’d apparently buttoned wrong. “Will—Dr. Michaels—may have cleared you to go home, but you scared me. I’ve never seen you so sick. Why don’t I give him a quick call and see if he can check on you before he goes in for his rounds?”
Even more bizarre was that my mom was now referring to my doctor on a first-name basis—their relationship had taken a trip into serious land, it seemed, and I’d missed it. Grabbing my backpack, I stopped. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“You came home in the middle of the night Monday, right? Before your shift ended?” When she shook her head, I was even more confused. “How did I get to the hospital?”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She placed her hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, but… Your friend brought you to the hospital.”
“My friend?”
“Yes, Daemon brought you in. Although, I’m curious how he knew you were so sick at three in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed. “Actually, I’m very curious.”
Oh, crap. “So am I.”
Chapter 3
I’d never been more eager to get to trig in my life. How in the hell had Daemon known I was sick? The dream I had about the lake couldn’t have been real. No way. If it was…I was going to…I didn’t know what I’d do, but I was sure my flaming cheeks would be involved.
Lesa was the first to arrive. “Yay! You’re back! How are you feeling? Better?”
“Yeah, I’m doing okay.” My eyes darted to the door. A few seconds later, Carissa came in.
She tugged on a strand of my hair as she passed, smiling. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. We were all worried. Especially when we stopped by to visit and you were completely out of it.”
I wondered what I’d done in front of them that I couldn’t remember. “Do I even want to know?”
Lesa giggled, pulling out her textbook. “You mumbled a lot. And you kept calling out for someone.”
Oh, no. “I did?”
Taking pity on me, Carissa kept her voice low. “You were calling out for Daemon.”
I dropped my face in my hands and moaned. “Oh, God.”
Lesa giggled. “It was kind of cute.”
A minute before the tardy bell rang, I felt an all-too-familiar warmth on my neck and glanced up. Daemon swaggered into class. Textbook-less as usual. He had a notebook, but I don’t think he ever wrote anything in it. I was beginning to suspect our math teacher was an alien, because how else would Daemon get away with not doing a damn thing in class?
He passed by without so much as a look.
I twisted around in my chair. “I need to talk to you.”
He slid into his desk chair. “Okay.”
“In private,” I whispered.
His expression didn’t change as he leaned back in his chair. “Meet me in the library at lunch. No one really goes in there. You know, with all those books and stuff.”
I made a face before flipping to the front of the class. Maybe five seconds later, I felt his pen poking me in the back. Taking a deep, patient breath, I faced him. Daemon had his desk tipped forward. Inches separated us. “Yes?”
He grinned. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
His gaze flickered around me, and I knew what he was doing. He was looking at the trace. “Know what?”
I cocked my head to the side, waiting.
“You’re not glowing,” he whispered.
Surprised, I let my jaw fall slack. I’d been shining like a disco ball on Monday and now I didn’t have a trace? “Like, at all?”
He shook his head.
The teacher started the class, so I had to face the front again, but I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was stuck on the fact I wasn’t glowing anymore. I should be—no, I was ecstatic, but the connection, it was still there. My hope that it would fade along with the trace was total bunk.
After class, I asked the girls to let Dee know I’d be late for lunch. Since they’d overheard part of the conversation, Carissa was full of giggles and Lesa launched into her fantasy about doing it in the library. Something I didn’t need to know. Or think about. But now I was, because I could so picture Daemon getting into that sort of thing.
Morning classes dragged. Mr. Garrison gave me the usual untrustworthy glance throughout biology after his eyes widened upon seeing me. He was like the unofficial guardian of the Luxen living outside of the alien colony. The non-glowy version of me seemed to get as much attention as the glowy version. Probably had more to do with the fact he wasn’t too happy that I knew what they really were.
The door opened just as he went for the projector, and a boy walked in, wearing a vintage Pac-Man shirt—which was made of awesome. A low murmur went through the classroom as the stranger handed Mr. Garrison a note.
He was new, obviously. His brown hair was artfully messy, like it was styled that way on purpose. Good looking, too, with golden-colored skin and a confident grin on his face.
“It seems we have a new student,” Mr. Garrison said, dropping the note on his desk. “Blake Saunders from…?”
“California,” the boy supplied. “Santa Monica.”
Several oohs and ahhs followed that. Lesa sat up straighter. Yay. I’d no longer be the “new kid.”
“All right, Blake from Santa Monica.” Mr. Garrison scanned the classroom, his gaze stopping on the empty seat beside me. “There’s your seat and your lab partner. Have fun.”
My eyes narrowed on Mr. Garrison, not sure if “Have fun” was a thinly veiled insult or a secret hope the non-alien boy would distract me from the alien one.
Appearing oblivious to the curious stares, Blake took his seat next to me and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m Katy from Florida.” I grinned. “Now known as ’no longer the new kid.’”
“Ah, I see.” He glanced up to where Mr. Garrison was wheeling the projector to the middle of the classroom. “Small town, not many faces, everyone stares kind of thing?”
“You got it.”
He laughed softly. “Good. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.” He pulled out a notebook, his arm brushing mine. A static charge shocked me. “Sorry about that.”
“Totally okay,” I told him.
Blake gave me one more quick grin before turning his gaze to the front of the classroom. Fiddling with the chain around my neck, I sneaked a quick peek at the new boy. Well, at least bio now had some eye candy. Couldn’t go wrong with that.
…
Daemon wasn’t waiting at the double doors to the library. Shouldering my bag, I entered the musty-smelling room. A young librarian glanced up and smiled as I looked around. The back of my neck was warm, but I didn’t see him. Knowing Daemon, he was probably hiding so no one would see His Coolness in a library. I passed a few underclassmen at the tables and computers eating their lunches, and then roamed around until I found him back in the nosebleed section—Eastern European culture. A basic no-man’s-land.
Onyx (A Lux Novel) Page 2
