Onyx (2 page)

I fiddled with my glass, not looking up. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends,” he replied smoothly.

“Do you…feel anything around me?”

“Other than what I felt this morning when I saw how good you looked in those jeans?”

“Daemon.” I sighed, trying to disregard the girl in me that screamed,
HE NOTICED ME!
“I’m being serious.”

His long fingers idly traced circles on the wooden table. “The back of my neck gets all warm and tingly. Is that what you’re talking about?”

I peeked up. A half smile played across his lips. “Yeah, you feel it, too?”

“Whenever we’re near.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Does it bother you?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. The tingling wasn’t painful or anything, just weird. But what it symbolized did bother me—the damn connection we knew nothing about. Even our hearts were beating the same.

“It could be a…side effect of the healing.” Daemon watched me over the rim of his glass. I bet he’d look hot with a milk mustache. “Are you feeling well?” he asked.

Not really. “Why?”

“You look like crap.”

Any other time his comment would’ve started a war in this house, but I just set my half-empty glass down. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

His brows furrowed. The concept of being sick was foreign to Daemon. The Luxen didn’t get sick. Like, ever. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know. I probably got alien cooties.”

Daemon snorted. “Doubtful. I can’t afford for you to be sick. We need to get you outside and try to work your trace off. Until then, you’re a—”

“If you say I’m a weakness, I will hurt you.” Anger pushed down the nausea in my stomach. “I think I proved that I’m not, especially when I led Baruck away from your house and
I
killed him.” I struggled to keep my voice low. “Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

He sat back, brows inching up his forehead. “I was going to say that until then, you’re
at risk
.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flushed. Whoops. “Well, then, I’m still not weak.”

One second Daemon was sitting at the table and the next he was beside me, kneeling down. He had to look up slightly to see my face. “I know you’re not weak. You’ve proven yourself. And what you did this weekend, tapping into our powers? I still can’t figure out how that happened, but you’re not weak. Ever.”

Whoa. It was hard to stick to my resolve of not caving to the ridiculous notion of us being together when he was actually…
nice
, and when he stared at me like I was the last piece of chocolate in the whole world.

Which made me think of that damn chocolate chip cookie in his mouth.

The side of his lips twitched as if he knew what I was thinking and was fighting a smile. Not that little smirk of his, but a real smile. And suddenly he was standing, towering over me. “Now I need you to prove you’re not weak. Get off your butt and let’s work off some of that trace.”

I groaned. “Daemon, I’m really not feeling well.”

“Kat…”

“And I’m not saying that to be difficult. I feel like hurling.”

He folded his muscular arms, stretching his Under Armour shirt across his chest. “It’s not safe for you to be running around when you look like a damn lighthouse. As long as you carry the trace, you can’t do anything. Go anywhere.”

I pushed up from the table, ignoring the rolling in my stomach. “I’ll get changed.”

Surprise widened his eyes as he stepped back. “Caving in so easily?”

“Caving in?” I laughed without feeling. “I just want you out of my face.”

Daemon chuckled deeply. “Keep telling yourself that, Kitten.”

“Keep using your ego steroids.”

In a blink of an eye, he was in front of me, blocking my exit. Then he prowled forward, head lowered and eyes full of intent. I backed up until my hands found the edge of the kitchen table.

“What?” I demanded.

Placing his hands on either side of my hips, he bent forward. His breath was warm against my cheek and our eyes locked. He moved a fraction of an inch closer, and his lips brushed my chin. A strangled gasp escaped the back of my throat, and I swayed toward him.

A heartbeat later, Daemon pulled back, chuckling smugly. “Yeah…not my ego, Kitten. Go get ready.”

Dammit!

Giving him the finger, I left the kitchen and went upstairs. My skin still felt clammy and gross and it had nothing to do with what happened, but I changed into a pair of sweats and a thermal. Running was the last thing I wanted to do. Not like I expected Daemon to care I wasn’t feeling well.

He only cared about himself and his sister.

That’s not true
, whispered an insidious, annoying voice in my head. But maybe that voice was correct. He had healed me when he could’ve left me to die and I had heard his thoughts, heard him begging me not to leave him.

Either way, I had to swallow the urge to puke and go for a fun jog. Some sixth sense knew this wasn’t going to end well.

I lasted twenty minutes.

With the uneven terrain of the woods, the brisk November wind, and the boy next to me, I couldn’t do it. Leaving him halfway to the lake, I speed walked all the way back to the house. Daemon called out to me a couple of times, but I ignored him. Within a minute of reaching my bathroom, I threw up—the clutching-the-toilet, on-my-knees, tears-streaming-down-my-face kind of hurling. It was so bad I woke up Mom.

She hurried into the bathroom, pulling my hair back. “How long have you been feeling sick, honey? A few hours, all day, or just now?”

Mom—ever the nurse. “On and off all day,” I moaned, resting my head against the tub.

Tsk
ing under her breath, she placed her hand against my forehead. “Honey, you’re burning up.” She grabbed a towel and ran it under the tap. “I should probably call in to work—”

“No, I’m okay.” I took the towel from her, pressing it against my forehead. The coolness was wonderful. “It’s just the flu. And I feel better already.”

Mom clucked over me until I got up and took a shower. Changing into a long sleep shirt took an absurd amount of time. The room did a Tilt-a-Whirl on me as I climbed under the covers, and I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for Mom to return.

“Here’s your phone and some water.” She placed both on the table and sat beside me. “Open up.” Prying one eye open, I saw a thermometer shoved at my face. I obediently opened my mouth. “Depending on how high your temperature is, we will determine if I’m staying home,” she told me. “It’s probably just the flu, but…”

“Mmm,” I groaned.

She gave me a bland look and waited until the thing beeped. “One hundred and one. I want you to take this.” Pausing, she handed me two pills. I downed them, no questions asked. “The temp isn’t that bad, but I want you to stay in bed and rest. I’ll call and check on you before ten, okay?”

I nodded and then snuggled down. Sleep was all I needed. She folded up another damp cloth and placed it over my forehead. I closed my eyes, almost certain I was approaching stage one of a zombie infection.

A weird fog entered my brain. I slept, waking up once to check in with Mom, and then again past midnight. The night shirt was damp, clinging to my feverish skin. I went to push the blankets off and noticed they were across the room, covering my cluttered computer desk.

Cold sweat dotted my forehead as I sat up. My thumping heart echoed in my head, heavy and erratic. Two beats at once, it seemed. My skin felt stretched tight over my muscles—hot and prickly. I stood, and the room spun.

I was so hot, burning up from the inside. My insides felt as if they’d melted into goo. My thoughts ran into one another, a never-ending train of nonsense. All I knew was that I needed to
cool down
.

The door to the hallway swung open, beckoning me. I didn’t know where I was going, but I stumbled down the hall and then downstairs. The front door was like a beacon, promising relief. It would be cold outside. Then I would be cold.

But it wasn’t enough.

I stood on the porch, the wind blowing my damp shirt and hair back. Stars lined the night sky, intensely bright. I lowered my gaze and the trees lining the road shifted colors. Yellow. Gold. Red. Then they turned a muted shade of brown.

I was dreaming, I realized.

In a daze, I stepped off the porch. Pieces of gravel poked at my feet, but I kept walking, the moonlight leading the way. Several times the world felt like it turned upside down, but I pushed on.

It didn’t take me long to reach the lake. Under the pale light, the onyx-colored water rippled. I moved forward, stopping when my toes sunk through loose dirt. Prickling heat scorched my skin as I stood there. Burning. Sweltering.

“Kat?”

Slowly, I turned. Wind whipped around me as I stared at the apparition. Moonlight sliced his face in shadows, reflecting in his wide, bright eyes. He couldn’t be real.

“What are you doing, Kitten?” Daemon asked.

He seemed fuzzy. Daemon was never fuzzy. Fast and blurry sometimes, yes, but never fuzzy. “I…I need to cool down.”

Understanding shot across his face. “Don’t you dare go into that lake.”

I moved backward. Icy water lapped at my ankles and then my knees. “Why?”

“Why?” He took a step forward. “It’s too cold. Kitten, don’t make me come in there and get you.”

My head throbbed. Brain cells were definitely melting. I sunk farther down. Cold water soothed the burning in my skin. It washed over my head, stealing my breath and the fire. The burn eased, nearly fading. I could stay under here forever. Maybe I would.

Strong, solid arms surrounded me, pulling me back to the surface. Frigid air rushed me, but my lungs were seared. I dragged in deep gulps, hoping to extinguish the flames. Daemon was pulling me out of the blessed water, moving so fast I was in the water one second and standing on shore the next.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, grasping my shoulders and giving me a light shake. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Don’t.” I pushed at him weakly. “I’m so hot.”

His intense gaze drifted down to my toes. “Yeah, you’re hot. The whole wet white shirt… It’s working, Kitten, but a midnight swim in November? That’s a little daring, don’t you think?”

He wasn’t making sense. The reprieve was over, and my skin was burning again. I stumbled from his hands, back toward the lake.

His arms were around me before I took two steps, turning me around. “Kat, you can’t get in the lake. It’s
too
cold. You’re going to get sick.” He brushed back the hair plastered to my cheeks. “Hell—sicker than you already are. You’re burning up.”

Something in what he said cleared a bit of the haze. I leaned into him, pressing my cheek into his chest. He smelled
wonderful
. Like spice and man. “I don’t want you.”

“Uh, now is not the time to get into
that
conversation.”

This was just a dream. I sighed, wrapping my arms around his taut waist. “But I do want you.”

Daemon’s arms tightened around me. “I know, Kitten. You aren’t fooling anyone. Come on.”

Letting go, my arms hung limply at my sides. “I…I don’t feel good.”

“Kat.” He pulled back. Both hands were on my face, holding my head up. “Kat, look at me.”

I wasn’t looking at him? My legs gave out. And then there was nothing. No Daemon. No thoughts. No fire. No Katy.

…

Things were hazy, disjointed. Warm hands kept the hair back from my face. Fingers smoothed over my cheek. A deep voice spoke to me in a language that was musical and soft. Like a song, but…more beautiful and comforting. I sunk into the sound, lost for a little while.

I heard voices.

Once, I thought I heard Dee. “You can’t. It’ll just make the trace worse.”

I was moved around. Wet clothing stripped away. Something warm and soft slid over my skin. I tried talking to the voices around me, and maybe I did. I wasn’t sure.

At some point, I was wrapped in a cloud and carried somewhere. A steady heart beat under my cheek, lulling me until the voices faded and cool hands eventually replaced the warm ones. Bright lights intruded. I heard more voices.
Mom?
Mom sounded worried. She was talking to…someone. Someone I didn’t recognize.
He
had the cool hands. There was a prick in my arm, a dull pain that radiated to my fingers. More hushed voices, and then I heard nothing.

There was no day or night, but this weird in-between where a fire raged in my body. Then the cool hands were back, pulling my arm out from underneath the covers. I didn’t hear Mom as I felt the prick again on my skin. Heat swept
inside
me, rushing through my veins. Gasping, I arched my back off the bed, and a strangled scream escaped the back of my throat. Everything burned. A fire raged inside me ten times worse than before, and I knew I was dying. I had to be…

And then there was a coolness in my veins, like a rush of winter’s air. It moved quickly, dousing the flames and leaving a trail of ice in its wake.

The hands moved to my neck, tugging something up. A chain…my necklace? The hands were gone, but I felt the obsidian
humming
, vibrating above me. And then I slept for what felt like an eternity, not certain I was ever going to wake up.

…

Four days of being in the hospital, and I had next to no recollection of any of it. Only that I woke up Wednesday in an uncomfortable bed, staring at a white ceiling and feeling fine. Great, even. Mom had been by my side, and it took a hefty amount of bitching to get released after I spent all day Thursday telling anyone who came within a block of my door that I wanted to go home. I’d obviously had a bad case of the flu, not something serious.

Now Mom watched me with shadowed eyes as I downed the glass of orange juice from our fridge. She was in jeans and a light sweater. It was odd seeing her out of her scrubs. “Honey, are you sure you’re feeling well enough to go back to class? You can take today off and go back on Monday if you want.”

I shook my head. Missing three days of classes already earned me the truckload of homework Dee had dropped off last night. “I’m fine.”

“Honey, you were in the hospital. You should take it easy.”

I washed out the cup. “I’m okay. Really, I am.”

“I know you think you’re feeling better.” She fixed my cardigan which I’d apparently buttoned wrong. “Will—Dr. Michaels—may have cleared you to go home, but you scared me. I’ve never seen you so sick. Why don’t I give him a quick call and see if he can check on you before he goes in for his rounds?”

Even more bizarre was that my mom was now referring to my doctor on a first-name basis—their relationship had taken a trip into serious land, it seemed, and I’d missed it. Grabbing my backpack, I stopped. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“You came home in the middle of the night Monday, right? Before your shift ended?” When she shook her head, I was even more confused. “How did I get to the hospital?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She placed her hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, but… Your friend brought you to the hospital.”

“My friend?”

“Yes, Daemon brought you in. Although, I’m curious how he knew you were so sick at three in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed. “Actually, I’m very curious.”

Oh, crap. “So am I.”