Roofs of houses caved as Luxen and Arum crashed into them. Sparks flew as power lines fell to the ground. Flames erupted from inside the homes. A building exploded off in the distance, causing me to flinch as a wave of heat rolled through the clearing, but the red-hot blast quickly chilled.
Another house exploded—boards winging into the air and glass shattering. I jumped, thinking I heard Daemon call my name, but I couldn’t turn away from the destruction. Fire speared the sky. The screams . . . they were coming from everywhere, all around us, ringing in my head and dragging over my too-tight skin.
My stomach roiled.
Which was stupid and weak, because I’d killed before.
That thought was like a second blast of frigid air dumped on my head. The scenery in front of me blurred. How many times had I killed? God, I think I’d lost count.
“Kat, your heart . . .” Daemon said, one hand moving to cup my cheek. His grip on my waist loosened, and as our gazes met and held, I couldn’t believe there could be such beauty among such carnage. “Calm down, Katy. It’s over.”
Was it really? The energy spiked in me as I gazed back at the . . . the horror taking place, and then I pulled free.
Suddenly, I needed . . . I didn’t know what I needed. My skin was still too tight and it tingled. The heat was back, burning from the inside. I had to get away from here, away from Daemon, away from everything.
My head was a mess as I turned, and I started running again, but this time I wasn’t chasing anything. Or maybe I was chasing myself. I didn’t know or understand. I just ran, and it wasn’t until I’d cleared the colony and started up a rough incline, a path dug deep into soil and rock, that I realized I was running toward Seneca Rocks and up them.
The climb was hard, rough, and my feet slipped many times. Pressure slammed down on my chest the higher I went, until it was difficult to draw in a breath or to really think about what the hell I was doing. And I really didn’t want to think about that, because this was crazy.
I knew I wasn’t self-destructing. I think I knew that, because as I scrambled up the ragged path, stumbling over small bushes and sliding over pebbles, I remembered how it had been for Carissa. She had been like something shoved in a microwave that shouldn’t have been placed in there.
My legs almost gave out when I reached the first of the peaks, a part that was nothing more than a ledge above a steep drop-off. I stopped—stopped walking, stopped thinking and climbing.
Dragging in deep breaths, I lifted my chin and looked up, and I swore I saw ghosts from the past. I thought I saw Dawson and Bethany looking down on me. My gaze traveled down the other peak to where I stood.
I didn’t see ghosts.
It was a memory, a conversation about what had happened to them. It all had started here. Dawson had healed Beth after she’d fallen from the rocks, which had caused her uncle to contact Daedalus, and then everything from that moment had led to this.
Everything had started with Dawson and Beth.
“Kat?”
My breath caught as I heard his voice. My chin dipped to my chest as I slowly wheeled around.
And everything ended with Daemon and me.
He stared at me from the path, his eyes brilliant as he watched me. His chest rose and fell as fast as mine. “Kat,” he said again.
My head still didn’t feel screwed on right as he took a step onto the ledge. I backed across the smooth rock, breathing heavily. I closed my eyes and I saw Mom—I saw her without blue eyes, but with beautiful hazel ones, and when I took a breath, it got stuck around a sob in my throat. I saw Ethan sitting in my kitchen and then standing on Daemon’s porch, the first time I’d seen him. I saw Blake, that carefree, charming smile that had hidden so many secrets. I saw Carissa, who we would never get answers about, and then I saw countless faces with unknown names.
“Kitten,” Daemon tried again, and I opened my eyes. I saw him. “What are we doing?”
We. Not you. We.
“I don’t know,” I admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I thought . . . I just needed to get away from it.”
“That’s understandable.”
It was, wasn’t it? I took another step back, my gaze never leaving his. It was obvious. I wasn’t self-destructing. I sat down. Or plopped down. I wasn’t sure which. Several moments passed and I remembered the strangest thing. “This . . . this is like Snowbird.”
He stared at me like he was worried I had truly lost my mind. Maybe I had. “What?”
“The legend you told me about.” I turned, looking over the ridge. Every muscle in my body ached. There was a good chance there was a hole in my shoulder, and I was so very, very tired. “This is like Princess Snowbird.”
Daemon didn’t respond.
“She climbed up these rocks and only one brave warrior kept pace with her until the end.” I wet my dry lips, forcing my lungs open with another deep breath. “You told me all about it when we took that walk, before we saw the bear.” My gaze shifted over to him, and his expression had softened. “You told me . . . told me about the most stunning people and what was inside them.” I paused, frowning. “The way you said it sounded so very beautiful.”
He came closer, stopping in front of me. He knelt down, his eyes shining. “I remember. I said, ‘The most beautiful people, ones whose beauty is only rivaled by what is inside of them, are the ones who are quietly unaware of it.’ Or something like that.”
“That was it.” I nodded.
He tilted his head to the side. “I was talking about you then. Those words were meant for you.”
My eyes met his again and I swallowed. Hard.
“You had no idea how beautiful you were. I don’t even think you do now, but it’s what’s inside of you.” Carefully, he reached out and placed his hand between my breasts. “That’s the most beautiful thing in the world. What’s in you.”
Tears rose, and I let out a shaky breath. Those words . . . well, they did something in me. I wasn’t a murderer. I wasn’t crazy. I was tired and I was a million other things, and to Daemon, I was also beautiful on the outside and inside.
“Thank you.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat as he moved toward me and circled his arms around my shoulders. “You never need to thank me for the truth.”
I clutched at his shirt. “At least I didn’t laugh at you this time.”
“There’s always that.” There was a smile in his voice. “Oh, Kitten . . .”
From where we were, it looked like thick, dark clouds passing, snuffing out tiny stars, except the mass wasn’t clouds and the lights flickering out weren’t stars. Daemon rested his chin atop my head as he smoothed his hand up my back, and I felt the familiar warmth of his touch. “It’s over.”
Finally, I relaxed against him and closed my eyes. It was over.
{ Daemon }
I wasn’t sure I closed my eyes at all during the night. Maybe I had slept a bit, but I couldn’t confirm that. Watching Kat was the last thing and the first thing I remembered.
She was curled against me, her cheek resting on my now-numb arm. We were in my house and before she’d crashed last night, she had changed into one of my shirts that had been left untouched in my closet. It was way too big for her, sliding down her shoulder, exposing a tantalizing amount of skin.
I was pretty fascinated by that skin. With my not-dead arm, I trailed my fingers across her shoulder, following her collarbone. I’d been doing that for half the night. Every so often, she’d manage to snuggle closer, tossing a leg over mine or pressing her body against mine.