Opal (3 page)

Chapter 3

Already treading on thin ice with my mom, I decided not to mention the whole window thing when she called later in the evening, checking in. I was hoping and praying the roads were cleared enough to get someone out here to fix the window before Mom could make her way home.

I hated lying to her, though. All I’d been doing lately was lying to her, and I knew I needed to tell her everything, especially about her supposed boyfriend, Will. But how would this kind of conversation go?
Hey, Mom, our neighbors are aliens. One of them accidentally mutated me, and Will is a psycho. Any questions?

Yeah, that was so not going to happen.

Right before I hung up, she pushed the whole going-to-see-a-doctor-for-my-voice thing again. Telling her it was just a cold worked now, but what was I going to say in a week or two from now? God, I really hoped my voice healed by then, although a part of me knew this might be permanent. Another reminder of…everything.

I had to tell her the truth.

Grabbing a package of instant mac and cheese, I started to pop it in the microwave but then stared down at my hands, frowning. Did they have microwave powers like Dee and Daemon did? I turned over the bowl, shrugging. I was too hungry to risk it.

Heat wasn’t my thing. When Blake was training me to handle the Source and tried to teach me how to create heat—i.e. fire—I’d caught my hands on fire instead of the candle.

As I waited for the mac, I stared out the window over the sink. Dawson had been right earlier. It really was beautiful now that the sun had risen. Snow blanketed the ground and covered the branches. Icicles hung from the elms. Even now, after the sun had set, it was a beautiful white world out there. I kind of wanted to go out and play.

The microwave dinged, and I ate my unhealthy dinner standing, figuring at least I would burn off calories that way. Ever since Daemon had mutated me into this human-alien-hybrid-mutant-freak, my appetite was out of this world. There was almost nothing left in the house.

When I finished, I quickly grabbed my laptop and sat at the kitchen table. My brain had been scattered the last week, and I wanted to look up something before I forgot. Again.

Pulling up Google, I typed in
Daedalus
and hit enter. Wikipedia served up the first link and since I wasn’t expecting a “Welcome to Daedalus: Secret Government Organization” website, I clicked.

And I got all acquainted with Greek myths.

Daedalus was considered an innovator, creating the labyrinth the Minotaur resided in, among other things. And he was also the daddy of Icarus, the kid who flew too close to the sun on wings fashioned by Daedalus, and then drowned. Icarus got giddy from flying and, knowing the gods, it was probably a form of passive punishment, leading to Icarus losing his wings. That and a punishment for Daedalus, who’d outfitted Icarus with the contraption that gave the boy the godlike ability to fly.

Nice history lesson, but what was the point? Why would the DOD name an organization overseeing human mutation after some dude—?

Then it struck me.

Daedalus created all kinds of things that bettered man, and the whole godlike-abilities angle was kind of like humans who were mutated by the Luxen. It was a leap in logic, but come on, the government
would
be so full of themselves they’d name their organization after a Greek legend.

Closing the laptop, I stood and found myself grabbing my jacket and going outside. I really didn’t know why. Who knew if there were more Officers sneaking around? My overactive imagination formed the image of a sniper hiding in the tree and a red dot appearing on my forehead. Nice.

Sighing, I dug out a pair of gloves from the pockets of my jacket and high-stepped it through the mounds of snow. Needing some form of physical exercise to keep my brain from going into overdrive, I started rolling a ball of snow across the front yard. Everything had changed in a matter of months and then again in a matter of seconds. Going from shy, book-nerd Katy to something impossible; someone who had changed on more than a cellular level. I no longer saw the world in black and white and deep down I knew I didn’t operate on basic social norms anymore.

Like thy shalt not kill or whatever.

I hadn’t killed Brian Vaughn, the Officer who had been paid off by Will to turn me over to him instead of the Daedalus as I could be used as leverage to ensure that Daemon mutated him instead of killing him outright, but I had
wanted
to and I would have if Daemon hadn’t beaten me to it.

I’d been totally okay with the idea of killing someone.

For some reason, killing the two evil aliens, the Arum, hadn’t affected me as much as the idea of being totally kosher with killing a human did. Not sure what that said about me, because like Daemon had said once before, a life was a life, but I didn’t know how to process adding the words ‘okay with killing’ to the bio section on my book blog.

My cotton gloves were soaked by the time I finished with the first ball and moved on to rolling the second lump of snow. This whole physical-exertion thing wasn’t doing anything other than causing my cheeks to burn in the frosty, snow-scented air. Fail.

When I was done, my snowman had three sections, but no arms or face. It kind of mirrored how I felt inside. I had most of the body parts but was missing vital pieces to make me real.

I really didn’t know who I was anymore.

Stepping back, I ran the sleeve of my arm over my forehead and let out a ragged breath. Muscles burned and skin ached, but I stood there until the moon peeked out behind thick clouds, sending a slice of silvery light over my incomplete creation.

There’d been a dead body in my bedroom this morning.

I sat down in the middle of my front yard, right in a pile of cold snow. A dead body—another dead body, just like Vaughn’s dead body that had fallen near the driveway, just like Adam’s dead body that had lain in the living room. Another thought I’d tried to ignore wormed its way through my defenses. Adam had died trying to protect me.

Wet, cold air stung my eyes.

If I had been honest with Dee, telling her from the start about what really happened in the clearing that night we fought Baruck and about everything thereafter, she and Adam would have been more cautious about bum-rushing my house. They would’ve known about Blake and how he was like me, capable of fighting back on a souped-up alien level.

Blake
.

I should’ve listened to Daemon. Instead, I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to believe that Blake had good intentions when Daemon had sensed something off about the boy. I should’ve known when Blake had thrown a knife at my head and left me alone with an Arum that there was something very demented about him.

Except was Blake demented? I didn’t think so. He’d been desperate. Frantic to keep his friend Chris alive and trapped by what he’d become. Blake would’ve done anything to protect Chris. Not because his life was joined with the Luxen, but because he cared for his friend. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t killed him, because even in those moments where everything was pure chaos, I saw a part of me in Blake.

I’d been okay with the idea of killing his uncle to protect my friends.

And Blake had killed my friend to protect his.

Who was right? Was anyone?

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t pay much attention to the warmth skipping across my neck. I jumped when I heard Daemon’s voice.

“Kitten, what are you doing?”

I twisted around and lifted my head. He stood behind me, dressed in a thin sweater and jeans. His eyes glimmered under thick lashes.

“I was making a snowman.”

His gaze drifted beyond me. “I see. It’s missing some stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said morosely.

Daemon frowned. “That doesn’t tell me why you’re sitting in the snow. Your jeans have to be soaked.” There was a pause and damn if that frown didn’t turn upside down. “Wait. That means I’d probably get a better look at your butt, then.”

I laughed. Leave it to Daemon to always take things down a level or two.

He glided forward as if the snow moved out of the way for him and sat beside me, crossing his legs. Neither of us said anything for a moment, and then he leaned over, pushing me with his shoulder.

“What are you really doing out here?” he asked.

I’d never been able to hide anything from him, but I really wasn’t ready to go
there
with him yet. “What’s going on with Dawson? Has he run off yet?”

Daemon looked like he was going to push the subject for a moment but then just nodded. “Not yet, because I followed him around today like a babysitter. I’m thinking about putting a bell on him.”

I laughed softly. “I doubt he’ll appreciate that.”

“I don’t care.” A little bit of anger flashed in his voice. “Running off after Beth isn’t going to end well. We all know that.”

No doubt. “Daemon, do you…”

“What?”

It was hard to put into words what I thought, because once I said them, they became real. “Why haven’t they come after Dawson? They have to know he’s here. It would be the first place he’d come back to if he had escaped. And they’ve obviously been watching.” I gestured back at my house. “Why haven’t they come for him? For us?”

Daemon glanced at the snowman, silent for several heartbeats. “I don’t know. Well, I have my suspicions.”

I swallowed past the lump of fear growing in my throat. “What are they?”

“You really want to hear them?” When I nodded, he went back to staring at the snowman. “I think the DOD was aware of Will’s plans, knew he was going to arrange for Dawson to be released. And they let it happen.”

I drew in a shallow breath as I picked up a handful of snow. “That’s what I think.”

He glanced at me, eyes hidden behind his lashes. “But the big question is why.”

“It can’t be good.” I let most of the snow slip through my gloved fingers. “It’s a trap. Has to be.”

“We’ll be ready,” he said after a few seconds. “Don’t worry, Kat.”

“I’m not worried.” Such a lie, but it seemed like the right thing to say. “We need to stay ahead of them somehow.”

“True.” Daemon stretched out his long legs. The underside of his jeans was a darker blue now. “You know how we stay under the humans’ radar?”

“By pissing them off and alienating yourselves?” I gave him a cheeky grin.

“Ha. Ha. No. We pretend. We constantly pretend like we’re not different, that nothing’s happening.”

“I’m not following.”

He flopped onto his back, his dark hair splashing against the white. “If we pretend like we’ve gotten away with Dawson being released, that we don’t think anything’s suspicious or that we know they’re aware of our abilities, then it may buy us time to figure out what they’re doing.”

I watched him throw his arms out to his sides. “You think they’ll slip up then?”

“Don’t know. I wouldn’t put money on it, but it kind of gives us the edge. It’s the best we have right now.”

The best we had kind of sucked.

Grinning as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he started sliding his arms through the snow, along with his legs, moving them like windshield wipers. Really nice-looking windshield wipers.

I started to laugh, but it got stuck in my throat as my heart swelled. Never in my life did I think Daemon would be into the snow-angel-making business. And for some reason, that made me all warm and fuzzy.

“You should try it,” he coaxed, eyes closed. “It gives you perspective.”

I doubted it could give me perspective on anything, but I lay down beside him and followed suit. “So I Googled Daedalus.”

“Yeah? What did you find out?”

I told him about the myth and my suspicions, which Daemon smirked at. “It wouldn’t surprise me—the ego behind that.”

“You’d know,” I said.

“Hardy har-har.”

I grinned. “How is this giving me perspective, by the way?”

He chuckled. “Wait for a couple more seconds.”

I did and when he stopped and sat, he reached over, grasping my hand, and pulled me up with him. We brushed the snow off of each other—Daemon taking a little longer than necessary on certain areas. Finished, we turned to our snow angels.

Mine was much smaller and less even than his, like I was top heavy. His was perfect—show-off. I folded my arms around me. “Waiting for the epiphany to happen.”

“There isn’t one.” He dropped a heavy arm over my shoulder, leaned in, and pressed a kiss against my cheek. His lips were so, so warm. “But it was fun, wasn’t it? Now…” He steered me back to the snowman. “Let’s finish with your snowman. It can’t be incomplete. Not with me here.”

My heart tripped up. There were so many times I wondered if Daemon could read minds. He could be amazingly spot-on when he wanted. I tilted my head back against his shoulder, wondering how he’d gone from douchebag extraordinaire to this…this guy who still infuriated me but also constantly surprised and amazed me.

To this guy I’d fallen madly in love with.

Chapter 4

When the plows came out, clearing a path through town and down the back roads, Matthew got a glass repair company here in the nick of time. They’d left minutes before Mom arrived home on Friday, looking like she’d ate, slept, and saved lives in her polka-dot scrubs.

She threw her arms around me, nearly taking me to the floor. “Baby, I’ve missed you!”

I hugged her back just as tightly. “Same here. I…” I let go, blinking back tears. Looking away, I cleared my throat. “Have you actually showered in the last week?”

“No.” She tried to hug me again, but I jumped back. She laughed but I caught a flash of sadness in her eyes just before she turned toward the kitchen. “Just kidding.. There’re showers at the hospital, honey. I’m clean. I swear!”

I followed behind her, wincing as she went straight to the raided fridge. Mom threw open the door and then stepped back, looking over her shoulder. Wisps of blond hair sneaked out of her bun.

Her delicately arched brows lowered and her perky little nose wrinkled. “Katy…?”

“Sorry.” I shrugged. “I was snowed in. And I got hungry. A lot.”

“I can tell.” She closed the door. “It’s okay. I’ll run to the store later. The roads aren’t bad now.” She paused, rubbing her brow. “Well, some look like you’d need a snowmobile to get down, but I can make it into town.”

Which meant there’d be school on Monday. Boo. “I can go with.”

“That would be nice, honey. As long as you plan not to put stuff in the cart and then throw a fit when I take it out.”

I gave her a bland look. “I’m not two.”

Her saucy smile was cut off by her yawn. “I’ve barely had any down time. Most of the nurses couldn’t make it in. I covered the ER, prenatal ward, and my favorite,” she said, grabbing a bottle of water, “the detox floor.”

“That blows.” I trailed behind her again, feeling incredibly Mommy needy.

“You have no idea.” She took a sip, stopping at the base of the stairs. “I’ve been bled on, peed on, and thrown up on. In that order and sometimes not.”

“Ew,” I said. Mental note: nursing was now placed with school administration in the Not Going To Happen Possible Job list.

“Oh!” She started up the stairs, twisting halfway around and teetering on the edge of the step. Oh, dear. “Before I forget, I’m changing shifts next week. Instead of working at Grant on the weekends, it will be Winchester. Busier in the city and more action on the weekends than doing the shift around here, and Will works weekends anyway, so it works out better.”

Which also meant more time away—
What
? My heart stuttered and there was this falling, spinning-down feeling. “What did you say?”

Mom frowned. “Honey, your voice… I really want to look at your throat. Okay? Or we can get Will to take a look. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

I was frozen. “Have…have you heard from Will?”

“Yes, we’ve talked while he’s been out west attending an Internal Med conference.” She smiled slowly. “Are you okay?”

No. I was not okay.

“Here,” she said. “Come upstairs, and I’ll take a look at your throat with the scope—”

“When…when did you talk to Will?”

Confusion flickered across my mom’s pretty face. “A couple of days ago. Honey, your voice—”

“Nothing’s wrong with my voice!” It cracked halfway through, of course, and Mom stared at me like I was telling her I was considering making her a grandma. This was my chance to tell her the truth.

I went up a step and stopped. All the words—the truth—got tangled up somewhere between my vocal chords and my lips. I hadn’t cleared telling my mom the truth with anyone—or at least given any of them a heads-up. And would she believe me? Worst yet, Mom… She loved Will. I knew she did.

Stomach twisting into raw knots, I forced the panic out of my voice. “When is Will coming home?”

She watched me closely, her lips pressing into a pinched line. “Not for another week, but Katy… Are you sure that’s what you wanted to say?”

Was he really coming back? And if he was talking to Mom, did that mean he’d gone through the mutation successfully and Daemon and I were now linked to him? Or had it faded?

I needed to talk to Daemon. Now.

My mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow. “Yes. Sorry. I have to go…”

“Go where?” she asked.

“See Daemon.” I backpedaled, heading for my boots.

“Katy.” She waited until I stopped. “Will told me.”

Ice drenched my veins as I turned around slowly. “Told you what?”

“He told me about you and Daemon—that you two had decided to start seeing each other.” She paused and got that
Mom
look. The one that said,
I’m so disappointed in you
. “He said you mentioned it and honey, I just wish you would’ve told me instead. Finding out through someone else about my daughter’s boyfriend isn’t how I wanted to learn.”

My jaw hit the floor.

She said something else, and I think I nodded. Honestly, she could’ve been telling me that Thor and Loki had a battle royale down the street. I wasn’t hearing her anymore. What was Will up to?

When Mom finally gave up on trying to hold a conversation with me, I hurried to my boots and hauled butt to Daemon’s house. When the door swung open, I already knew it wasn’t Daemon answering. I hadn’t experienced the freaky alien connection thing, the warmth on the back of my neck whenever he was near.

But Andrew’s blazing ocean-colored eyes weren’t what I was expecting.

“You,” he said, contempt lacing his tone.

I blinked. “Me?”

He folded his arms. “Yeah, you—as in Katy, the little human-alien-hybrid baby.”

“Um, okay. I need to see Daemon.” I started to step in, but he moved quickly, blocking me. “Andrew.”

“Daemon’s not here.” He smiled, and there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in it.

Folding my arms, I refused to back down. Andrew never liked me. I don’t even think he liked people in general. Or puppies. Or bacon. “And where is he?”

Andrew stepped out, shutting the door behind him. He was so close that the toes of his boots touched mine. “Daemon took off this morning. I assume he’s following Rain Man.”

Fury flashed through me. “There’s nothing wrong with Dawson.”

“Is that so?” Andrew cocked an eyebrow. “I think he’s said three coherent sentences a day and that’s about it.”

My hands curled into fists against my sides. A soft breeze picked up my hair, stirring the strands around my shoulders. I so wanted to hit him. “He’s been going through God knows what. Have some compassion, ass. Anyway, I don’t know why I’m talking to you. Where’s Dee?”

The smirk faded from his face, replaced by cold, hard hatred. “Dee is here.”

I waited for a little more detail. “Yeah, I figured that much.” When there was still no response, I was two seconds from showing him what a little human-alien-hybrid baby could do. “Why are you here?”

“Because I was invited.” He leaned down, close enough to kiss, and I had no other option but to take a step back. He followed. “And you’re not.”

Ouch. Okay, that stung. Before I knew it, my back hit the railing and I was trapped. There was nowhere for me to go, and Andrew wasn’t budging. I felt the Source, the pure energy that the Luxen—and now I—could harness building inside me, spreading over my skin like static electricity.

I could make Andrew move.

Andrew must’ve seen something in my eyes because he sneered. “Don’t even think about pulling that crap with me, because you push? I’ll push right back. There won’t be any lost sleep over it.”

Fighting my body’s response to lay it on him was the hardest thing. My human side and the other side, whatever it was, wanted to tap into that power and use it—exploit it. It was like an unused muscle flexing. I remembered the dizzying rush of power, and the release.

A part of me, a teeny, tiny part of me liked it, and that scared the crap out of me.

Good for Andrew, because the fear coiling tightly inside had knocked the wind right out from underneath me. “Why do you hate me?” I asked.

Andrew cocked his head to the side. “It’s the same thing as it was with Beth. Everything was fine, and then she came around. We lost Dawson and you know damn well we haven’t gotten him back, not really. And now it’s happening with Daemon, except this time around, we lost Adam in the mess. He’s gone.”

For the first time, something other than arrogant disdain peered through his crystalized eyes. Pain—the kind of suffering I was well familiar with. The same shattered, hopeless look I’d worn after my dad passed away from cancer.

“He’s not going to be the only one we lose,” Andrew continued, voice hoarse. “You know that, but do you care? No. Humans are ultimately the most selfish life-form there is. And don’t try to pretend you’re any better. If you were, you would’ve stayed away from Dee in the beginning. You would’ve never gotten attacked, and Daemon would’ve never had to heal you. None of this would’ve happened. It’s your fault. It’s on your head.”

…

Yeah, the rest of my day sort of sucked. I was worried about what Dawson had done that required Daemon to chase after him all day and feared the DOD was waiting to bring us all in. On top of that, I was freaking out over whatever Will had up his sleeve, and after that conversation with Andrew, I felt like I needed to crawl under my blankets.

And I did for about an hour. My self-pity always had a time limit because I usually got annoyed with myself.

Pulling my head out of my rear, I cracked open my laptop and started doing some reviews. Since I’d been snowed in and Daemon had mostly been busy with Dawson, I’d gotten four books read. Not my all-time high score, but pretty good considering I’d been slacking like a mofo on the reviews.

It always felt good typing up a review on a book I enjoyed and I went all out, finding bizarre pictures to emphasize the wow factor. I preferred ones with cute kittens and llamas. And Dean Winchester. Hitting ‘publish post’ cracked a smile.

One down, three more to go.

I spent the rest of the day spewing out reviews and then stalking a few of my favorite bloggers. One of them had a header on their blog I’d do terrible things for. I was never that good at web design, which explained my less than stellar background.

After a quick run to the grocery store with Mom and dinner, I was about to start a manhunt for Daemon when I felt a warm tingle along the back of my neck.

I shot from the kitchen, nearly barreling through a startled Mom. I whipped open the door an instant after Daemon knocked and then threw myself—literally—into his not-so-waiting arms.

Unprepared for my attack, he stumbled back a step. But then he laughed deeply against the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me. I held on, squeezing the hell out of his shoulders, and we were so tightly pressed against each other that I could feel his heart picking up as fast as mine.

“Kitten,” he murmured. “You know how much I like it when you say hi this way.”

Head buried in the space between his neck and shoulder, which smelled like spice and male, I murmured something unintelligible.

Daemon lifted me clear off my feet. “You’ve been worried, haven’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Then I remembered how much I’d been worried all freaking day. I broke free and smacked his chest. Very, very hard.

“Ouch!” He grinned, though, as he rubbed his chest. “What was that for?”

I folded my arms and tried to keep my voice low. “Have you heard of a cell phone?”

He arched his brow. “Why, yes, it’s this small thing that has all these cool apps on it—”

“Then why didn’t you have it on you today?” I interrupted.

Leaning down, his lips grazed my cheek as he spoke, sending shivers through me. Not fair. “Going in and out of my true form all day kind of kills the electronics.”

Oh. Well, I hadn’t thought of that. “You should’ve checked in, though. I thought…”

“You thought what?”

I gave him a
Do I really need to explain it?
look.

The twinkling in Daemon’s eyes faded. Placing his hands on my cheeks, he brought his lips to mine, kissing me sweetly. When he spoke, he kept his voice low. “Kitten, nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m the last person you need to worry about.”

I closed my eyes, breathing in his warmth. “See, that’s possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

“For real? I say a lot of stupid things.”

“I know. So that’s saying something.” I took a breath. “I’m not trying to act like one of those obsessive girlfriends, but things…things are different with us.”

There was a pause, and then his lips stretched into a smile. “You’re right.”

Hell froze over. Pigs were flying. “Come again?”

“You’re right. I should’ve checked in at some point. I’m sorry.”

The world was flat. I didn’t know what to say. According to Daemon, he was right about 99 percent of the time. Wow.

“You’re speechless.” He chuckled. “I like that. And I also like you all feisty. Want to hit me again?”