“Too bad it didn’t take longer.” Daemon stretched idly, like a cat. “And too bad you didn’t get lost or—”
“Eaten by wild boars or killed in a horrific ten-car pile-up. I get it.” Blake interrupted and sauntered past us. “You don’t need to be here, Daemon. No one is forcing you.”
Daemon pivoted on his heel, following Blake. “There’s no other place I’d rather be.”
My head was already starting to throb. Training with Daemon present wasn’t going to be easy. I slowly made my way into the living room. They were in an epic stare down.
I cleared my throat. “So, um, how are we going to do this?”
Daemon opened his mouth, and the good Lord only knows what he was about to say, but Blake beat him to it. “What we need to do first is figure out what you can already do.”
I tucked my hair back, uncomfortable with both of them staring at me like…like I didn’t even know what. “Uh, I’m not sure there’s much I can do.”
Blake’s lips pursed. “Well, you stopped the branch. And the time with the windows. That’s two things.”
“But I didn’t do them on purpose.” At Blake’s confused expression, I looked over at Daemon. He appeared bored, sprawled on the couch. “What I mean is, it wasn’t a conscious effort, you know.”
“Oh.” His brows lowered. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
Gee. Thanks. My hands fell to my sides.
Daemon’s bright gaze slid to Blake. “What a great motivator you are.”
Blake ignored him. “So these have been random outbursts of power?” When I nodded, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Maybe it will just fade?” I said, hopeful.
“It would’ve already done that by now. See, one of four things happens after a mutation, from what I could learn.” He started moving around the living room, giving me a wide berth. “A human can be healed, and then it fades after a few weeks, even months. Or a human can be mutated and it sticks, and they develop the same abilities as a Luxen—or more. Then there are the ones who kind of…self-destruct. But you’re out of that stage.”
Thank God, I thought wryly. “And?”
“Well, and then there are humans who are mutated beyond what would be expected, I guess.”
“What does that mean?” Daemon tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. I glared at them.
Blake folded his arms and rocked back. “Like in the freakish-mutant-looks department and in the head, and it’s different for everyone.”
“Am I going to turn into a mutant?” I squeaked.
He laughed. “I don’t think so.”
I don’t think so wasn’t high on the reassurance scale.
Daemon’s fingers stopped their annoying tapping. “And how do you really know all of this, Flake?”
“Blake,” he corrected. “Like I said, I’ve known others like Katy who have been sucked into the DOD.”
“Uh huh.” Daemon smirked.
Blake shook his head. “Anyway, back to the important stuff. We need to see if you can control it. If not…”
Before I even had a chance to respond, Daemon was on his feet and in Blake’s face. “Or what, Hank? What if she can’t?”
“Daemon.” I sighed. “First off, his name is Blake. B-L-A-K-E. And really, can we do this without any macho-man moments? Because if not, this is going to take forever.”
He spun around, pinning me with a dark look that made me roll my eyes. “Okay, so what do you suggest?”
“The best thing to start with is to see if you can move anything on command.” Blake paused. “And I guess we can go from there.”
“Move what?”
Blake looked around the room. “How about a book?”
A book? Hell, which one? Shaking my head, I focused on the one that had a cover of a girl whose dress turned into rose petals. So pretty. It was about reincarnation and had a male main character who was swoon-worthy and then some. God, I’d so want to date—
“Focus,” Blake said.
I made a face, but okay, I wasn’t really focusing. I pictured the book lifting into the air and coming to my hand like I’d seen Daemon and Dee do so many times.
Nothing happened.
I tried harder. Waited longer. But the book remained on the back of the couch…as did the pillows, the remote control, and Mom’s Good Housekeeping magazine.
Three hours later and the best I’d done was cause the coffee table to tremble and Daemon to doze off on the couch.
I fail.
Tired and cranky, I ended practice and woke up Daemon by kicking the leg of the coffee table. “I’m hungry. I’m tired. And I’m done.”
Blake’s brows shot up. “Okay. We can pick up tomorrow. No biggie.”
I glared at him.
Stretching his arms, Daemon yawned. “Wow, Brad, you are such a great trainer. I’m amazed.”
“Shut up,” I said, and then ushered Blake out the front door. On the porch, I apologized. “I’m sorry for being so bitchy, but I feel like an epic fail right now. Like I’m the captain of my own personal failboat.”
He smiled. “You’re not a failboat, Katy. This can take a while, but the frustration is worth it in the end. The last thing you want is the DOD knowing you’re mutated and coming for whoever was responsible.”
I shivered. Causing something like that to happen would kill me. “I know. And…thank you for wanting to help.” I bit my lip and peeked at him. Maybe Daemon was right last night. Blake was risking a lot even being around me. Wouldn’t most people bail if they knew the DOD was heavily entrenched here? I just didn’t want to believe it was because he had feelings for me.
“Blake, I know this is dangerous for you and I don’t—”
“Katy, it’s okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. He also let go pretty quickly; probably he was afraid Daemon would appear out of nowhere and break his hand. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
A little bit of relief flooded me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Didn’t I, though? Trusting Blake took a leap of faith, but he had plenty of opportunity to turn Daemon and me over and he hadn’t. I wrapped my arms around my waist against the cold. “What you’re doing by helping me is pretty amazing. I just wanted to say that.”
Blake’s grin grew into a smile that caused his hazel eyes to dance. “Well, it does mean I get to spend more time with you.” The tips of his cheeks flushed, and he looked away, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”
I nodded. Blake gave me a weird sort of smile and then left. Feeling all kinds of whacked out, I went back in.
Daemon wasn’t on the couch, of course. Going on instinct, I shuffled into the kitchen. He was there. Bread, lunch meat, and mayo were spread out on the counter.
“What are you doing?”
He waved a knife around. “You said you were hungry.”
My heart did a back handspring. “You…didn’t have to make me anything, but thank you.”
“I was also hungry.” Daemon plopped mayo on the bread, spreading it out evenly. He made two ham and cheese sandwiches quickly. Turning, he handed me mine as he leaned against the counter. “Eat.”
I stared at him.
He smiled and then took a huge bite of his. Chewing slowly, he watched me eat, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. After he went round two with the ham and cheese, which really was just cheese and mayo, I cleaned up. I finished washing my hands and turned off the faucet when Daemon placed his hands on either side of my hips, his fingers curving over the counter. Heat rolled up and down my back, and I didn’t dare move. He was way, way too close.
“So, you had a very interesting conversation with Butler on the porch.” His breath danced over my neck.