Текст книги "Onyx (A Lux Novel)"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Chapter 3

I’d never been more eager to get to trig in my life. How in the hell had Daemon known I was sick? The dream I had about the lake couldn’t have been real. No way. If it was…I was going to…I didn’t know what I’d do, but I was sure my flaming cheeks would be involved.

Lesa was the first to arrive. “Yay! You’re back! How are you feeling? Better?”

“Yeah, I’m doing okay.” My eyes darted to the door. A few seconds later, Carissa came in.

She tugged on a strand of my hair as she passed, smiling. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. We were all worried. Especially when we stopped by to visit and you were completely out of it.”

I wondered what I’d done in front of them that I couldn’t remember. “Do I even want to know?”

Lesa giggled, pulling out her textbook. “You mumbled a lot. And you kept calling out for someone.”

Oh, no. “I did?”

Taking pity on me, Carissa kept her voice low. “You were calling out for Daemon.”

I dropped my face in my hands and moaned. “Oh, God.”

Lesa giggled. “It was kind of cute.”

A minute before the tardy bell rang, I felt an all-too-familiar warmth on my neck and glanced up. Daemon swaggered into class. Textbook-less as usual. He had a notebook, but I don’t think he ever wrote anything in it. I was beginning to suspect our math teacher was an alien, because how else would Daemon get away with not doing a damn thing in class?

He passed by without so much as a look.

I twisted around in my chair. “I need to talk to you.”

He slid into his desk chair. “Okay.”

“In private,” I whispered.

His expression didn’t change as he leaned back in his chair. “Meet me in the library at lunch. No one really goes in there. You know, with all those books and stuff.”

I made a face before flipping to the front of the class. Maybe five seconds later, I felt his pen poking me in the back. Taking a deep, patient breath, I faced him. Daemon had his desk tipped forward. Inches separated us. “Yes?”

He grinned. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled.

His gaze flickered around me, and I knew what he was doing. He was looking at the trace. “Know what?”

I cocked my head to the side, waiting.

“You’re not glowing,” he whispered.

Surprised, I let my jaw fall slack. I’d been shining like a disco ball on Monday and now I didn’t have a trace? “Like, at all?”

He shook his head.

The teacher started the class, so I had to face the front again, but I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was stuck on the fact I wasn’t glowing anymore. I should be—no, I wasecstatic, but the connection, it was still there. My hope that it would fade along with the trace was total bunk.

After class, I asked the girls to let Dee know I’d be late for lunch. Since they’d overheard part of the conversation, Carissa was full of giggles and Lesa launched into her fantasy about doing it in the library. Something I didn’t need to know. Or think about. But now I was, because I could sopicture Daemon getting into that sort of thing.

Morning classes dragged. Mr. Garrison gave me the usual untrustworthy glance throughout biology after his eyes widened upon seeing me. He was like the unofficial guardian of the Luxen living outside of the alien colony. The non-glowy version of me seemed to get as much attention as the glowy version. Probably had more to do with the fact he wasn’t too happy that I knew what they really were.

The door opened just as he went for the projector, and a boy walked in, wearing a vintage Pac-Man shirt—which was made of awesome. A low murmur went through the classroom as the stranger handed Mr. Garrison a note.

He was new, obviously. His brown hair was artfully messy, like it was styled that way on purpose. Good looking, too, with golden-colored skin and a confident grin on his face.

“It seems we have a new student,” Mr. Garrison said, dropping the note on his desk. “Blake Saunders from…?”

“California,” the boy supplied. “Santa Monica.”

Several oohs and ahhs followed that. Lesa sat up straighter. Yay. I’d no longer be the “new kid.”

“All right, Blake from Santa Monica.” Mr. Garrison scanned the classroom, his gaze stopping on the empty seat beside me. “There’s your seat and your lab partner. Have fun.”

My eyes narrowed on Mr. Garrison, not sure if “Have fun” was a thinly veiled insult or a secret hope the non-alien boy would distract me from the alien one.

Appearing oblivious to the curious stares, Blake took his seat next to me and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m Katy from Florida.” I grinned. “Now known as ’no longer the new kid.’”

“Ah, I see.” He glanced up to where Mr. Garrison was wheeling the projector to the middle of the classroom. “Small town, not many faces, everyone stares kind of thing?”

“You got it.”

He laughed softly. “Good. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.” He pulled out a notebook, his arm brushing mine. A static charge shocked me. “Sorry about that.”

“Totally okay,” I told him.

Blake gave me one more quick grin before turning his gaze to the front of the classroom. Fiddling with the chain around my neck, I sneaked a quick peek at the new boy. Well, at least bio now had some eye candy. Couldn’t go wrong with that.

…

Daemon wasn’t waiting at the double doors to the library. Shouldering my bag, I entered the musty-smelling room. A young librarian glanced up and smiled as I looked around. The back of my neck was warm, but I didn’t see him. Knowing Daemon, he was probably hiding so no one would see His Coolness in a library. I passed a few underclassmen at the tables and computers eating their lunches, and then roamed around until I found himback in the nosebleed section—Eastern European culture. A basic no-man’s-land.

He was lounging in a cubicle beside an outdated computer, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. A wavy lock of hair covered his forehead, brushing against thick lashes. His lips curled into a half smile.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to find me.” He made no move to clear up any space in the tiny 6x6 hole.

I dropped my bag outside the walls and hopped up on the desk opposite him. “Embarrassed someone would see you and think you’re capable of reading?”

“I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“And what a lovely reputation that is.”

He stretched out his legs so that his feet were under mine. “So what did you want to talk about”—his voice lowered to a deep, sexy whisper—“in private?”

I shivered—and it had nothing to do with the temperature. “Not what you’re hoping.”

Daemon gave me a sexy smirk.

“Okay.” I gripped the edge of the desk. “How did you know I was sick in the middle of the night?”

Daemon stared at me for a moment. “You don’t remember?”

His eerie eyes were way too intense. I dropped my gaze…to his mouth. Wrong move. I stared at the map of Europe over his shoulder. Better. “No. Not really.”

“Well, it was probably the fever. You were burning up.”

My eyes snapped back to his. “You touched me?”

“Yes, I touched you…and you weren’t wearing a lot of clothes.” The smug stretch of his lips spread. “And you were soaked…in a white T-shirt. Nice look. Very nice.”

Heat crept over my cheeks. “The lake…it wasn’t a dream?”

Daemon shook his head.

“Oh my God, so I did go swimming in the lake?”

He pushed off the desk and took one step forward, which put him in the same breathing space as me…if he actually needed to breathe. “You did. Not something I expected to see on a Monday night, but I’m not complaining. I saw a lot.”

“Shut up,” I hissed.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He reached out, tugging on the sleeve of my cardigan. I smacked his hand away. “It’s not like I haven’t seen the upper part before, and I didn’t get a real good look down—”

I came off the desk swinging. My knuckles only brushed his face before he caught my hand. Wowzers, he was fast. Daemon pulled me up against his chest and lowered his head, eyes snapping with restrained anger. “Don’t hit, Kitten. It’s not nice.”

“ You’renot nice.” I tried pulling back, but he kept my wrist secured in his hand. “Let me go.”

“I’m not sure I can do that. I must protect myself.” But he dropped my hand.

“Oh, really, that’s your reason for—for manhandling me?”

“Manhandling?” He pressed forward until my lower back was against the cubicle desk. “This isn’t manhandling or whatever the hell that is.”

Visions of me against the wall at my house and Daemon kissing me danced in my head like sugarplums. Parts of my body tingled. Oh, so not a good sign. “Daemon, someone is going to see us.”

“So?” He gently picked up my hand. “Not like anyone is going to say a thing to me.”

I drew in a deep breath. His scent was on my tongue. Our chests touched. Body said yes. Katy said no. I wasn’taffected by this. Not by how close we were or how his fingers were sliding under the sleeve of my cardigan. It wasn’t real. “So my trace has faded, but this stupid connection hasn’t?”

“Nope.”

Disappointed, I shook my head. “What does that mean, then?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers were completely under my sleeve, smoothing up my forearm. His skin—it hummed like electricity. There was nothing like it.

“Why do you keep touching me?” I asked, flustered.

“I like to.”

God, I liked it, too, and I shouldn’t. “Daemon…”

“But back to the trace. You know what that means.”

“That I don’t have to see your face outside of school?”

He laughed, and it rumbled through me. “You’re no longer at risk.”

Somehow, and I really haven’t a clue how, my free hand was against his chest. His heart beat was fast and strong. So did mine. “I think the not-seeing-your-face part outweighs the safe part.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” His chin brushed my hair and then slid over my cheek. I shivered. A spark passed from his skin to mine, humming in the charged air around us. “If that makes you feel better, but we both know it’s a lie.”

“It’s not a lie.” I tipped my head back. His breath was a warm stroke against my lips.

“We’re still going to be seeing each other,” he murmured. “And don’t even lie. I know that makes you happy. You told me you wanted me.”

Hold your horses. “When?”

“At the lake.” He slanted his head, and I should’ve pulled back. His lips curved knowingly against mine, and he let go of my wrist. “You said you wanted me.”

Both of my hands were on his chest. They had a mind of their own. I claimed no responsibility for them. “I had a fever. Lost my mind.”

“Whatever, Kitten.” Daemon gripped my hips, lifting me onto the edge of the desk with an ease that was disturbing. “I know better.”

My breath was coming in short gasps. “You don’t know anything.”

“Uh huh. You know, I was worried about you,” he admitted, moving forward, easing my legs apart. “You kept calling out my name, and I kept answering, but it was like you couldn’t hear me.”

What were we talking about? My hands were on his lower stomach. His muscles were hard underneath the sweater. I slid my hands to his sides, totally meaning to push him away. Instead, I gripped and pulled him forward. “Wow, I must’ve been really out of it.”

“It…scared me.”

Before I could respond or even give thought to the fact that my sickness actually scared him, our lips met. My brain clicked off as my fingers dug through his sweater, and…and oh, God, his kisses were deep, scorching my lips as his hands tightened on my waist, pulling me against him.

Daemon kissed like he was a man starving for water, taking long, breathless drafts. His teeth caught my lower lip when he pulled away, only to come back for more. A heady mix of emotions warred inside me. I didn’t want this, because it was just the connection between us. I kept telling myself that, even as I slid my hands up his chest and circled them around his neck. When his hands inched under my shirt, it was as though he reached deep inside me, warming every cell, filling every dark space within me with the heat from his skin.

Touching him, kissing him, was like having a fever all over again. I was on fire. My body burned. The world burned. Sparks flew. Against his mouth, I moaned.

There was a POP!and CRACK!

The smell of burned plastic filled the cubicle. We pulled apart, breathing heavily. Over his shoulder I saw thin strips of smoke wafting from the top of the ancient monitor. Good God, was this going to happen every time we kissed?

And what in the hell was I doing? I’d decided I wasn’t going to let this happen with Daemon, which meant no kissing…or touching. The way he’d treated me when we first met still stung. The pain and embarrassment lingered in me.

I pushed him. Hard. Daemon let go, staring at me like I’d kicked his puppy into traffic. Looking away, I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. It didn’t work. Everything about him was still around me, inme. “God, I don’t even likethis—kissing you.”

Daemon straightened, coming to his full height. “I beg to differ. And I think this computer tells a different story, too.”

I shot him a dirty look. “That—that will never happen again.”

“And I think you’ve said that before,” he reminded me. When he saw my expression, he sighed. “Kat, you enjoyed that—just as much as I did. Why lie?”

“Because it’s not real,” I said. “You didn’t want me before.”

“I did—”

“Don’t you dare say you wanted me, because you treated me like I was the Antichrist! You can’t just undo that because there’s a stupid connection between us.” I sucked in a sharp breath as an icky feeling spread through my chest. “You really hurt me then. I don’t think you even know. You humiliated me in front of an entire lunch room!”

Daemon looked away, dragging his fingers through his hair. A muscle popped out in his jaw. “I know. I’m…I’m sorry for how I treated you, Kat.”

Shocked, I stared at him. Daemon never apologized. Like, ever. Maybe he really… I shook my head. His apology wasn’t enough. “Even now, we’re all the way hidden in the library, as if you don’t want people to know you made a mistake that day and acted like a dick. And I’m supposed to be okay with that now?”

His eyes widened. “Kat—”

“I’m not saying we can’t be friends, because I want to. I do like you a lo—” I cut myself off before I said too much. “Look, this didn’t happen. I’m going to blame aftereffects of the flu or that a zombie ate my brain.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I don’t want this with you.” I started to turn, but he caught my arm. I glared at him. “Daemon…”

He looked at me straight on. “You’re a terrible liar. You do want this. Just as badly as I do.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

“You want this as badly as you want to go to ALA this winter.”

Now my jaw was on the floor. “You don’t even know what ALA is!”

“The American Library Association midwinter event,” he said, grinning proudly. “Saw you obsessing over it on your blog before you got sick. I’m pretty sure you said you’d give up your firstborn child to go.”

Yeah, I kind of did say that.

Daemon’s eyes flashed. “Anyway, back to the whole you-wanting-me part.”

I shook my head, dumbfounded.

“You do want me.”

Taking a deep breath, I struggled with my temper…and my amusement. “You are way too confident.”

“I’m confident enough to wager a bet.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He grinned. “I bet that by New Year’s Day, you will have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, and irrevocably—”

“Wow. Want to throw another adverb out there?” My cheeks were burning.

“How about irresistibly?”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I’m surprised you know what an adverb is.”

“Stop distracting me, Kitten. Back to my bet—by New Year’s Day, you’ll have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, irrevocably, and irresistiblyin love with me.”

Stunned, I choked on my laugh.

“And you dream about me.” He released my arm and folded his across his chest, cocking an eyebrow. “I bet you’ll admit that. Probably even show me your notebook with my name circled in hearts—”

“Oh, for the love of God…”

Daemon winked. “It’s on.”

Spinning around, I grabbed my backpack and hurried through the stacks, leaving Daemon in the cubicle before I did something insane. Like throw common sense aside and run back to tackle him, pretending that everything he’d done and said all those months ago hadn’t left a raw mark on my heart. Because I’d be pretending, right?

I didn’t slow until I was standing in front of my locker on the other side of the school. I reached inside my backpack and pulled out my binder full of art crap. What a hell of a day back. I’d dazed out in half of my classes, made out with Daemon, andblew up another computer. Seriously. I should’ve stayed home.

I reached for the handle on my locker. Before my fingers could touch it, the locker swung open. Gasping, I jumped back, and my art binder fell to the floor.

Oh my God, what just happened?

It couldn’t be… My heart rate went into cardiac arrest territory.

Daemon? He could manipulate objects. Opening a locker door with his mind would be a piece of cake for him, considering he could uproot trees. I looked around the thinning crowds, but I already knew he wasn’t there. I hadn’t felt him through our creepy alien bond. I backed away from the locker.

“Whoa, watch where you’re going,” a teasing voice intruded.

Sucking in a sharp gasp, I whipped around. Simon Cutters stood behind me, clenching a ragged backpack in his meaty fist.

“Sorry,” I croaked, glancing back at the locker. Had he seen that happen? I knelt to pick up my artwork, but he beat me to it. Epic awkwardness ensued as we tried to pick up the papers without touching each other.

Simon handed me a stack of craptastic drawings of flowers. I had no artistic talent. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” I stood, shoving my binder into the locker, ready to flee.

“Wait a sec.” He grabbed my arm. “I wanted to talk to you.”

My eyes dropped to his hand. He had five seconds before my pointy-toed shoe ended up between his legs.

He seemed to sense this, because he dropped his hand and flushed. “I just want to apologize for everything that happened homecoming night. I was drunk and I…I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

I glared at him. “Then maybe you should stop drinking.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” He ran his hand over his closely cropped hair. Light reflected off the blue and gold watch around his thick wrist. Something was engraved on the band, but I couldn’t make it out. “Anyway, I just didn’t—”

“Yo, Simon, what are you doing?” Billy Crump, a beady-eyed football player who only seemed to notice my boobs when he looked in my direction, sidled up next to Simon. He was closely followed by a rabid pack of teammates. Billy grinned as his gaze zeroed in on me. “Hey…what do we have here?”

Simon opened his mouth, but one of the guys beat him to it. “Let me guess. She’s trying to get on your jock again?”

Several guys chuckled and elbowed one another.

I blinked at Simon. “Excuse me?”

The tips of Simon’s cheeks turned ruddy as Billy lurched forward, dropping his arm over my shoulder. The scent of his cologne nearly knocked me out. “Look, babe, Simon ain’t interested in you.”

One of the guys laughed. “Like my mama always said, why buy the cow when the milk’s for free?”

A slow rush of fury inched through my veins. What the hell was Simon telling these douchebags? I shrugged out from underneath Billy’s arm. “This milk isn’t for free and wasn’t even for sale.”

“That’s not what we hear.” Billy fist-pumped a red-faced Simon. “Isn’t that right, Cutters?”

All of Simon’s friends’ eyes were on him. He choked out a laugh and stepped back, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah, man, but not interested in a second glass. I was trying to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen.”

My mouth dropped. “You lying son of a—”

“What’s going on down there?” Coach Vincent called from the end of the hallway. “Shouldn’t you boys be in class by now?”

Laughing, the guys broke apart and headed down the hall. One of them spun around, motioning a “call me” hand signal while another made a rather obscene gesture with his mouth and hand.

I wanted to slam my fist into something. But Simon wasn’t my biggest problem. I faced my locker again, wincing as my stomach dropped to my toes. It had opened by itself.

Chapter 4

Mom was gone, already having started her shift in Winchester earlier that day. I’d been hoping she’d be home so I could chat with her for a little while and forget about the whole locker incident, but I’d forgotten it was Wednesday—also known as Fend For Yourself Day.

A dull ache had taken up residency behind my eyes, like I strained something, but I wasn’t sure if that were possible. It had started after the whole locker incident and didn’t show signs of stopping.

I threw a load of clothes into the dryer before realizing there were no dryer sheets. Fail. Going to the linen closet, I rummaged around, hoping to find something. Giving up, I decided that the only thing that was going to make today better was the sweet tea I’d seen in the fridge that morning.

Glass shattered.

I jumped at the sound and then hurried to the kitchen, thinking someone had broken the window from outside, but it wasn’t like we had a lot of visitors out here unless it was a Department Of Defense officer bum rushing the house. At that thought, my heart tripped up a little as my gaze went to the counter below an opened cupboard. One of the tall, frosted glasses was in three large pieces on the counter.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Frowning, I looked around, unable to figure out the source of the noise. Broken glass and water dripping… Then it struck me. My pulse sped up as I opened up the fridge.

The jug of tea was on its side. Lid off. Brown liquid ran across the shelf, spilling down the sides. I glanced at the counter. I’d wanted tea, which requires a glass and, well, tea.

“No way,” I whispered, backing up. There was no way the act of wanting tea had somehow caused this.

But what other explanation could there be? It wasn’t like there was an alien hiding under the table, moving crap around for fun.

I checked just to be sure.

This was the second time in one day that something had moved on its own. Two coincidences?

Numb inside, I grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess. The whole time I was thinking about the locker door. It had opened before I reached it. But it couldn’t be me. Aliens had the power to do that kind of stuff. I didn’t. Maybe there had been a minor earthquake or something—a minor earthquake that only targeted glasses and tea? Doubtful.

Weirded out to the max, I grabbed a book off the back of the couch and sprawled out. I needed a serious distraction.

Mom hated that there were books everywhere. They weren’t really everywhere. Just wherever I was, like the couch, recliner, kitchen counters, laundry room, and even the bathroom. It wouldn’t be like that if she caved and installed a wall-to-ceiling bookcase.

But no matter how I tried to get into the book I was reading, it wasn’t working. Half of it was the book. It had insta-love, the bane of my existence. Girl sees boy and falls in love. Immediately. Soul mate, breath stealing, toes curling, love after one conversation. Boy pushes girl away for some paranormal reason or another. Girl still loves boy. Boy finally admits love.

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 sonot 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.”