Opal

like with Homecoming?”

“I’d love that.” My smile spread so fast I bet I looked a little crazy.

She nodded, and I wanted to run up and hug her, but I wasn’t sure if we were there yet. With a little wave, she spun around and headed up her porch. For a moment, I stood there with my dress and let out a happy sigh.

This was progress. Maybe things would never be like they were, but this was really good.

Heading inside, I hugged my dress bag close and kicked the door shut. Mom had already left for work, so as I took my dress upstairs and hung it on my closet door. I wondered what I was going to make myself for dinner.

Pulling out my cell phone, I sent Daemon a quick text. What R U doing?

He responded a few moments later. With Andrew & Matthew, getting dinner. Want smthing?

I glanced at the bag, recalling how flirty the dress was. Feeling naughty, I texted him: You .

The response was lightning quick, and I laughed. Really? And then, Of course, I alrdy knew that . And before I could respond, my phone rang. It was Daemon.

I answered, grinning like an idiot. “Hey.”

“I wish I were home,” he said, and a car honked. “I can be there in seconds.”

Heading down the steps, I stopped and leaned against the wall. “No. You rarely get guy time. Stay with them.”

“I don’t need guy time. I need Kitten time.”

My face flushed. “Well, you can get Kitten time when you come home.”

He grumbled and then, “Did you get a dress?”

“Yes.”

“Will I like it?”

I smiled and then rolled my eyes when I realized I was twirling my hair. “It’s red, so I think so.”

“Hot damn.” Someone yelled his name-sounded like Andrew-and he sighed. “Okay. I’m going back in. Want me to pick you up anything? Andrew, Dawson, and I are going to Smoke Hole.”

I thought about the hamburger I just ate. I’d be hungry later. “Do they have chicken fried steak?”

“Yes.”

“With homemade gravy?” I inquired, starting back down the steps.

Daemon’s laugh was husky. “The best gravy around.”

“Perfect. I want that.”

He promised to bring me home a hungry man’s portion and then hung up. I went into the living room first and dropped my cell on the coffee table. Then I swiped up one of the books I’d gotten this past week for review and headed to the kitchen for something to drink.

Flipping over the book, I read the blurb and had to slow down because I almost walked into a wall. Laughing at myself, I stepped through the doorway and looked up.

Will sat at the kitchen table.

Armentrout, Jennifer L.

Opal ( A Lux Novel)

Chapter 32

The book slipped from my lifeless fingers, falling to the floor. The smack reverberated inside me, all around me. I sucked in a breath but it got stuck around my heart pounding off my ribs.

My eyes had to be deceiving me. He couldn’t be here. And he couldn’t look the way he did. It was Will

It was but it wasn’t . Something was dreadfully wrong with the man.

Will sat hunched over the table with his back to the fridge. The last time I’d seen him, his dark brown hair had been thick and wavy, with a hint of gray at the temples. Patches of his skull shone under a thin layer of mousy hair now.

Will

Will had been a handsome man, but this man who sat before me had aged dramatically. His skin was sallow and drawn tight across his face. No fat or form whatsoever, and he reminded me of the skeleton decorations used to scare children at Halloween. Some sort of rash affected his forehead, looking like a blotch of raspberries. His lips were incredibly thin, as were his arms and his shoulders.

Only his eyes were what I remembered. Pale blue, full of strength and determination, they fixed on mine. Something else sharpened them. Resolve? Hatred? I wasn’t sure, but what shone deep in them was more frightening than staring down a horde of Arum.

Will let out a dry, painful-sounding laugh. “I’m a sight for sore eyes, aren’t I?”

I didn’t know what to do or say. As scary as hell as it was that he was here, he was in no shape to do a thing to me. That gave me a little confidence.

He sat back against the chair; the movement looked like it hurt and winded him.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Will stared back a long moment before sliding a hand over the table. “You’re smarter than that, Katy. It’s obvious. The mutation didn’t hold.”

That I got, but it didn’t explain why he looked like the crypt keeper.

“I did plan on coming back here after a few weeks. I knew the sickness would be rough-I knew I needed time to get control of it. Then I’d come and we’d be one big, happy family.”

I choked. “There would be no way I’d let that happen.”

“Your mother wanted that.”

My hands curled into fists.

“It seemed to hold at first.” A cough racked his frail body and I almost expected him to topple over. “Weeks went by and the things I could do

” A weak, brittle smile split his dry lips. “Moving objects with a wave of my hand, running miles without breaking a sweat

I felt better than I ever had. Everything had fallen into place just like I planned, just like I paid for.”

My horrified gaze flickered over his sunken chest. “Then what happened to you?”

His left arm twitched. “The mutation didn’t hold, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t change me on a cellular level. Something I’d wanted to prevent ended up being

propelled by the mutation. My cancer,” he said, lip curling. “My cancer was in remission. The statistics of a complete recovery were high, but when the mutation faded, this

” He waved a weak hand around himself. “This happened.”

I blinked, stunned. “Your cancer came back?”

“With a vengeance,” he said, laughing that terrible, fragile laugh. “There’s nothing that can be done. My blood is like a toxin. My organs are failing at an abnormal rate. Apparently, the whole theory of cancer being linked to DNA may have some basis to it.”

Each word he spoke seemed to exhaust him and there was no doubt he was one step, maybe two, away from death. Reluctant sympathy flooded me. How crappy was it that everything he’d done to secure his health had ultimately led to his death?

I shook my head. Irony was such a witch. “If you had just left everything alone, you’d be fine.”

His eyes met mine. “You want to rub that in?”

“No.” And I really didn’t. If anything, I was sickened by this. “It’s just sad, really sad.”

He stiffened. “I don’t want your pity.”

Okay. I crossed my arms. “Then what do you want?”

“I want revenge.”

My brows shot up. “For what? You brought this on yourself.”

“I did everything right!” He slammed his fist down on the table, rattling it and surprising me. Well, he was stronger than he looked. “I did everything right. It was him-Daemon. He didn’t do what he was supposed to.”

“He healed you like you wanted.”

“Yes! He healed me! And that gave me a temporary mutation.” Another fit of coughing stole his words. “He

he didn’t mutate me. What he did

was he gave himself what he wanted and enough time for him to think he got away with it.”

I stared at him. “The whole healing and mutation thing isn’t an exact science.”

“You’re correct. The DOD has dedicated entire organizations to discovering how a successful hybrid is created.” No big announcement there. “But Daemon is the strongest. There was no reason why it wouldn’t have held.”

“There’s no way of knowing what would’ve happened.”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know,” he spat. “That punk knew what he was doing. I saw it in his eyes. I just didn’t know what it meant then.”

I looked away and then faced him. “There has to be a true want behind the healing for it to work. Anything else won’t do the job