Onyx (A Lux Novel)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Who was I kidding? I sort of loved all that angst. It wasn’t the book. It was me. I couldn’t clear my head and fully immerse myself in the characters. I grabbed a bookmark off the coffee table and shoved it in the book. Dog-eared pages were Antichrist of book lovers everywhere.

  Ignoring what was happening wasn’t working. It just wasn’t in me to run from my troubles like this. Besides, if I was honest with myself, I knew I was more than a little freaked out by what was happening. What if I was imagining I was moving things? The fever could’ve killed off a few brain cells. I dragged in air so fast my head swam. Could a person get schizophrenia from being sick?

  Now that just sounded stupid.

  Sitting up, I pressed my head to my knees. I was fine. What was happening… There had to be a logical explanation for it. I hadn’t closed the locker door all the way and Simon’s lumbering steps had jarred it open. And the glass—left on the edge. And there was a good chance that Mom had left the cap on the tea loose. She was always doing stuff like that.

  I took several more deep breaths. I was okay. Logical explanations made the world go around. The only fault in that line of thought was the fact I lived next door to aliens, and that was so not logical.

  Pushing off the couch, I checked the window to see if Dee’s car was out front. Pulling on my hoodie, I headed next door.

  Dee immediately pulled me into the kitchen. There was a sweet, burned smell.

  “I’m glad you came over. I was just about to come get you,” she said, dropping my arm and rushing over to the counter. There were several pots scattered across the countertop.

  “What are you doing?” I peered over her shoulder. One of the pots looked like it was filled with tar. “Ew.”

  Dee sighed. “I was trying to melt chocolate.”

  “With your microwave hands?”

  “It’s an epic fail.” She poked at the gunk with a spatula. “I can’t get the temp right.”

  “Then why don’t you just use the stove?”

  “Pfft, I loathe the stove.” Dee pulled the spatula up. Half of it had melted. “Whoops.”

  “Nice.” I shuffled over to the table.

  With a wave of her hand, the pots flew to the sink. The tap turned on. “I’m getting better at this.” She grabbed some dish soap. “What were you and Daemon doing at lunch?”

  I hesitated. “I wanted to talk about the whole lake thing. I’d thought I…dreamed that.”

  Dee cringed. “No, that was real. He got me when he brought you back. I was the one to place you in dry clothes, by the way.”

  I laughed. “I was hoping that was you.”

  “Although he did volunteer for the job,” she said, her eyes rolling. “Daemon is so helpful.”

  “That he is. Where…where is he?”

  She shrugged. “No clue.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you keep itching your arm?”

  “Huh?” I stopped, not even realizing I was doing that. “Oh, they took my blood in the hospital to make sure I didn’t have rabies or something.”

  Laughing, she tugged up my sleeve. “I have some stuff that you can put—holy crap, Katy.”

  “What?” I glanced down at my arm and sucked in a breath. “Yuck.”

  My entire inner elbow looked like a fleshy strawberry. All that was missing was a leafy green cap. The raised splotches of red skin were speckled with darker dots.

  Dee ran a finger over it. “Does it hurt?” I shook my head. It just itched like crazy. She dropped my hand. “All you did was get your blood taken?”

  “Yeah,” I said, staring at my arm.

  “That’s really weird, Katy. It’s like you had some kind of reaction to something. Let me get some aloe. That might help.”

  “Sure.” I frowned at my arm. What could’ve done this?

  Dee returned with a jar of the cool gunk. It helped with the itching, and after I tugged my sleeve back down, she seemed to forget about it. I hung out with her for the next couple of hours, watching her destroy one pot after another. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt when Dee leaned too close to a bowl she was heating and accidentally set her shirt on fire. She’d raised one brow at my larger chest as if to say she’d like to have seen me avoid the same mistake, sending me into another fit of giggles.

  When she ran out of chocolate and plastic spatulas, Dee finally admitted defeat. It was after ten, and I said good-bye as I headed home to get some rest. It had been a long first day back at school, but I was glad I’d headed over and ended it hanging with Dee.

  Daemon was crossing the road just as I shut the front door behind me.

  In less than a second, he was on the top step. “Kitten.”

  “Hey.” I avoided his extraordinary eyes and face, because, well, I was having a real hard time not recalling what his mouth had felt like on mine earlier. “Where, um, so what have you been doing?”

  “Patrolling.” He stepped onto the porch, and even though I was busy staring at the crack in the wood floor, I could feel his gaze on my face and the heat from his body. He stood close, too close. “Everything is all quiet on the western front.”

  I cracked a smile. “Nice reference.”

  When he spoke, his breath teased the loose hair around my temple. “It’s my favorite book, actually.”

  My head jerked toward his, narrowly missing a collision. I hid my surprise. “I didn’t know you knew how to read the classics.”

  A lazy smirk appeared, and I’d swear he managed to get closer. Our legs touched. His shoulder brushed my arm. “Well, I usually prefer books with pictures and small sentences, but sometimes I step out of the box.”

  Unable to help it, I laughed. “Let me guess, your favorite kind of picture book is the one you can color in?”

  “I never stay in the lines.” Daemon winked. Only he could pull that off.

  “Of course not.” I looked away, swallowing. Sometimes it was too easy to fall into the easy banter with him, too damn easy to imagine doing this with him every night. Teasing. Laughing. Getting in way over my head. “I’ve got…to go.”

  He swung around. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “Um, I live right there.” Not like he didn’t know that. Duh.

  That lazy smirk spread. “Hey, I’m being a gentleman.” He offered his arm. “May I?”

  Laughing under my breath, I shook my head. But I gave him my arm. The next thing I knew, he scooped me up into his arms. My heart leaped into my throat. “Daemon—”

  “Did I tell you I carried you all the way back to the house the night you were sick? Thought that was a dream, eh? Nope. Real.” He went down one step as I stared wide-eyed at him. “Twice in one week. We’re making this a habit.”

  And then he shot off the porch, the roar of the wind drowning out my surprised squeal. The next second, he was standing in front of my door, grinning down at me. “I was faster the last time.”

  “Really,” I said slowly, dumbfounded. My cheeks felt numb. “You…going to put me down?”

  “Mmm.” Our eyes met. There was a tender look in his that warmed and frightened me. “Been thinking about our bet? Wanna give in now?”

  And he totally ruined that tender moment. “Put me down, Daemon.”

  He placed me on my feet, but his arms were still around me, and I had no idea what to say. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Oh, God…” I murmured.

  His lips twitched. “This bet really isn’t fair to you. New Year’s Day? Hell, I’ll have you admitting your undying devotion to me by Thanksgiving.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure I’ll hold out until Halloween.”

  “That’s already passed.”

  “Exactly,” I muttered.

  Laughing under his breath, he reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The back of his knuckles brushed my cheek and I pressed my lips together to stop a sigh. Warmth blossomed in my chest, having nothing to do with the simple touch.

  It had everything to do with the ache in his gaze. Then he pivoted around, ti
pping his head back. Moments passed in silence. “The stars… They’re beautiful tonight.”

  I followed his gaze, a little thrown off by his sudden change in topic. The sky was dark, but there were a hundred or so bright dots glimmering against the inky night. “Yeah, they are.” I bit my lip. “Do they remind you of your home?”

  There was a pause. “I wish they did. Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing, you know?”

  A knot formed in my throat. Why had I asked him that? I knew he didn’t remember anything about his planet. I tucked my hair back again and stood beside him, squinting at the sky. “The Elders—do they remember anything about Lux?” He nodded. “Have you ever asked them to tell you about it?”

  He started to respond, then laughed. “It is that simple, right? But I try to avoid the colony as much as possible.”

  Understandable, but I wasn’t entirely sure why. Daemon and Dee rarely talked about the Luxen that remained in the colony hidden deep within the forest surrounding Seneca Rocks. “What about Mr. Garrison?”

  “Matthew?” He shook his head. “He won’t talk about it. I think it’s too hard on him—the war and losing his family.”

  Tearing my gaze away from the stars, I looked up at Daemon. His profile was harsh and haunted. Christ, they’d had a tough life. All of the Luxen. War had turned them into refugees. Earth was practically a hostile planet to them, considering how they had to live. Daemon and Dee couldn’t remember their parents and had lost their brother. Mr. Garrison had lost everything and God only knew how many of them shared the same tragedy.

  The knot was growing bigger in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

  Daemon’s head swung toward me sharply. “Why would you apologize?”

  “I…I’m just sorry for everything…you guys have had to go through.” And I meant it.

  He held my gaze for a beat and then looked away, laughing under his breath. There was no humor in the sound, and I wondered if I’d said something wrong. Probably. “Keep talking like that, Kitten, and I…”

  “You what?”

  Daemon backed off my porch, his smile secretive. “I’ve decided to go easy on you. I’ll keep New Year’s Day as the deadline.”

  I started to respond, but he was gone before I could, moving too fast for my eyes to track.

  Placing my hand against my chest, I stood there and tried to make heads of what just happened. For a moment, a crazy moment, there had been something infinitely more than mad animal lust between us.

  And it scared me.

  I went inside and eventually was able to push Daemon to the back of my mind. Grabbing my cell, I went from room to room until I got a signal and called Mom, leaving her a message. When she called back, I told her about my arm. She said I probably bumped it on something, even though it didn’t hurt and it wasn’t bruised, either. She promised to bring me home a salve, and I felt better just hearing her voice.

  I sat on my bed, trying to forget about all the weird stuff and focus on my history homework. There was an exam on Monday. Studying on a Friday was the height of lameness, but it was either that or I fail. And I refused to fail. History was one of my favorite subjects.

  Hours later, I felt the weird warmth that was becoming increasingly familiar creep across my neck. Closing the textbook, I hopped off the bed and crept toward the window. The full moon lit everything in a pale, silvery glow.

  I tugged up the sleeve of my shirt. The skin was still patchy and red. Did being sick have anything to do with the locker, the glass of tea and the connection to Daemon?

  My gaze moved back to the window, drifting over the ground below. I didn’t see anyone. A yearning sparked in my chest. I pulled the curtain back farther and pressed my forehead against the cool glass. I couldn’t understand or explain how I knew, but I did. Somewhere, hidden in the shadows, was Daemon.

  And every part of my being wanted—needed—to go to him. The ache that had been in his eyes… It was so much, going beyond him and me. More than what I undoubtedly could wrap my head around.

  Denying that desire was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but I let the curtain slip free and went back to my bed. As I opened my history text again, I focused on my chapter.

  New Year’s Day? Wasn’t going to happen.

  …

  I was having one of those days where I wanted to start throwing things because only breaking crap would make me feel better. My limit for acceptable weirdness in my daily life had been maxed out.

  On Saturday, the shower turned on before I even got in it. Sunday night, my bedroom door opened as I walked toward it, smacking me right in the face. And this morning, to top it all off, I’d overslept and missed my first two classes, plus my entire closet emptied itself onto my floor as I debated what to wear.

  Either I was turning into an alien, about to have one crawl its way out of my stomach, or I was crazy.

  The only good thing about today was that I’d woken up without that itchy rash on my arm.

  The whole way to school, I debated what to do. These things couldn’t be brushed aside as a coincidence any longer, and I needed to get over myself and confront them. My new outlook on not being a bystander in life meant I had to face the fact that I’d really changed. And I needed to do something about it before I exposed everyone. Just thinking about that possibility left a bitter taste in my mouth. There was no way I could go to Dee, because I’d promised Daemon not to tell anyone that he’d healed me. I had no other option but to saddle him with another one of my problems.

  At least that was how it felt. When I first moved here, I’d been nothing but problems for him. Making friends with his sister, asking way too many questions, almost getting myself killed…twice. Plus discovering their big secret, and all the times I’d ended up with a trace.

  I frowned as I slid out of my car and slammed the door behind me. No wonder Daemon had been such a douche canoe those months. I was trouble. So was he, but still.

  Late for bio and out of breath, I raced down the nearly empty hall, praying that I’d be safely in my seat before Mr. Garrison strolled in. As I reached for the heavy door, it swung open with a powerful rush and slammed against the wall. The noise echoed down the corridor, drawing the attention of a handful of other late students.

  Blood drained from my face, inch by inch, as I heard the startled gasp from behind me and knew I was busted. A million thoughts ran through my numb brain and none of them was worth a damn. Closing my eyes, fear settled like sour milk in my stomach. What was wrong me? Something was—something was really bad.

  “These damn drafty hallways,” Mr. Garrison said, clearing his throat. “They’ll give you a heart attack.”

  My eyes snapped open. He straightened his tie while he clenched his brown suitcase tightly in his right hand.

  I opened my mouth to speak and agree. Agreeing would be a good thing. Yes, damn drafty hallways.

  But nothing came. I just stood there like a damn fish. Gaping and gaping.

  Mr. Garrison’s blue eyes narrowed, and his scowl deepened until I thought it would leave a permanent mark on his face. “Miss Swartz, shouldn’t you be in class?”

  “Yes, sorry,” I managed to croak.

  “Then please, don’t just stand there.” He spread his arms and ushered me inside. “And that is a tardy. Your second.”

  Unsure of how I earned my first tardy, I shuffled into class, trying to ignore the giggles from the other students who’d apparently heard my ass getting chewed out. My cheeks flooded with color.

  “Skank,” Kimmy said from behind her hand.

  Several more giggles erupted from her side of the class, but before I could say anything, Lesa shot the blonde a look. “That’s real funny coming from you,” she said. “You are the same cheerleader who forgot to wear her undies during the pep rally last year, aren’t you?”

  Kimmy’s face turned blood red.

  “Class,” Mr. Garrison said, eyes narrowing. “That’s enough.”

  Passing Lesa
a grateful smile, I took my seat next to Blake and yanked out my textbook while Mr. Garrison began reading off the attendance, making small swipes with his favorite red pen.

  He skipped my name. I was sure it was on purpose.

  Blake nudged me with his elbow. “Are you doing okay over there?”

  I nodded. There was no way I was going to let him think that Kimmy was the reason my face had gone albino white. And besides, Kimmy calling me a skank probably had something to do with Simon, which wasn’t even worth my anger right now. “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

  He smiled, but it looked forced.

  Mr. Garrison flipped off the lights and launched into a stimulating lecture on tree sap. Forgetting about the boy beside me, I started replaying the door incident over and over again in my head. Had Mr. Garrison really believed it had been a draft? And if he didn’t, what was stopping him from contacting the DOD and handing me over?

  Unease squirmed in my belly. Was I going to end up like Bethany?

  Chapter 5

  Carissa was waiting for me by my locker after biology. “Can I just go home?” I asked as I switched my textbooks.

  She laughed. “Having a bad day?”

  “You could say that.” I thought about elaborating for a second, but what could I tell her? “I was running late this morning. You know how that just screws your day up from there.”

  We headed down the hall, chatting about the party on Friday and what we were going to wear. I really hadn’t put much thought into it, figuring I’d just wear jeans and a shirt.

  “Everyone is dressing up,” she explained, “since we don’t get a lot of reasons to actually wear something nice around here.”

  “We just had homecoming.” I groaned, knowing I didn’t have anything dressy.

  Carissa launched into the routine conversation about what colleges I was going to apply to. She was hoping I would send an application into WVU. Most of the students were applying there.

  “Katy, you really need to start applying,” she insisted as she grabbed a plate of what appeared to be Salisbury steak. “You’re going to run out of time.”