“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 reallychanged. 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 wastrouble. 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 arethe same cheerleader who forgotto 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?