“What if…?” I swallowed, keeping my voice low. “What if this is our future?”
“No.” The arm around my waist drew me forward, and an instant later I was pressed against his front. His mouth moved against the sensitive spot under my ear as he spoke in a low whisper. “This isn’t our future, Kitten. I promise you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Memories of being this close to him hadn’t done the real thing any justice. The hardness of his chest against mine scrambled my thoughts, but it was his words that flooded my body with warmth. Daemon never promised something he didn’t hold to.
Fitting my head in the space between his neck and shoulder, I inhaled the smell of soap and the outdoorsy scent that was uniquely his. “Say it,” I whispered.
His hand slid up my spine, leaving a wake of shivers. “Say what, Kitten?”
“You know.”
He rubbed his chin in my hair. “I love…my car, Dolly.”
My lips cracked into a tiny grimace. “That’s not it.”
“Oh.” His voice dripped innocence. “I know. I love Ghost Investigators.”
“You’re such a douche.”
He laughed softly. “But you love me.”
“I do.” I pressed a kiss against his shoulder.
There was a pause, and I felt his heart rate kick up. Mine quickly matched his. “I love you,” he said, voice gruff. “I love you more than anything.”
I let myself rest against him, probably relaxing for the first time since I’d gotten there. It wasn’t that I felt stronger because he was there, though in a way I was. But it was because I now had someone on my side, someone who had my back. I wasn’t alone in this, and if it had been the other way around, I would’ve done the same thing he’d done. I doubted—
The door to the cell opened suddenly, and Daemon stiffened just like I did. Over his shoulder I saw Sergeant Dasher and Nancy Husher. Behind the incredibly douchetastic duo was Archer and another guard.
“Are we interrupting?” Nancy asked.
Daemon snorted. “No. We were just saying how sad we were that you guys weren’t visiting us.”
Nancy clasped her hands. In her black pantsuit, she looked like a walking ad for women who hate color. “For some reason I doubt that.”
My grip on the front of Daemon’s shirt tightened as my eyes bounced to the sergeant. His gaze wasn’t outright hostile, but then again, that didn’t tell me much.
The sergeant cleared his throat. “We have work to do.”
Insanely fast, Daemon was sitting up, and somehow he’d maneuvered his body so that I was behind him. “Work on what?” he asked, threading his fingers together between his knees. “And I don’t believe I’ve had the honor of meeting you.”
“That’s Sergeant Dasher,” I explained, trying to move so I wasn’t behind him. He shifted, blocking me once more.
“Is that so?” Daemon’s voice became low and dangerous, and my stomach sank. “I think I’ve seen you before.”
“I don’t think you have,” Dasher responded evenly.
“Oh, he has.” Nancy gestured at me. “I showed him the video of the first day Katy was here and your meeting with her.”
I closed my eyes and muttered a curse. Daemon was so gonna kill him.
“Yeah, I’ve seen that.” Each word was punctuated with what I knew was a death glare. I pried an eye open. Dasher didn’t look completely unfazed. The lines around his mouth were tense. “I’ve tucked those images away in a very special place,” Daemon finished.
I placed a hand on his back. “What work do we have to do?”
“We need to run some joint tests, and then we’ll go from there,” answered Dasher.
My muscles locked up, an action duly noted by Daemon. More stress tests? I couldn’t foresee that going well with Daemon involved.
“It’s nothing too complicated or intensive.” Nancy stepped aside, motioning to the door. “Please. The sooner we get started, the quicker it is over.”
Daemon didn’t move.
Nancy eyed us calmly. “Do I need to remind you of what you promised, Daemon?”
I shot him a sharp look. “Promised what?”
Before he could respond, Nancy did. “He promised to do whatever we asked without causing trouble if we brought him to you.”
“What?” I stared at him. When he didn’t say anything, I almost wanted to hit him. God only knew what they’d make him do. Taking a deep breath, I scooted around him and stood. A second later, he was on his feet and in front of me. Tucking my hair back, I slid my sneakers on.
We didn’t say anything as we stepped out into the hall. I glanced at Archer, but he was closely watching Daemon. I must not have been the DEFCON threat anymore. When we stopped in front of the elevator, I felt Daemon’s hand wrap around mine, and a little of the tautness eased out of my shoulders. How many times had I stepped into these elevators? I’d lost count, but this time was different.
Daemon was here.
They led us to the med floor and took us into a room that accommodated two patients. Dr. Roth was waiting for us, his expression eager as he hooked both of us up to a blood pressure meter.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to run tests on someone like you,” he said to Daemon, voice high-pitched.
Daemon arched a brow. “Another fanboy. I have them everywhere.”
I muttered, “Only you would see that as a good thing.”
He shot me a grin.
Color heightened the doctor’s cheeks. “It’s not often we get a powerful Luxen like you. We had thought that Dawson would be the one, but…”
Daemon’s face turned dark. “You worked with my brother?”
Uh oh.
Eyes widening, Dr. Roth glanced at where Nancy and Sergeant Dasher stood. He cleared his throat as he unwrapped the cuffs. “Their blood pressure is identical. Perfect. One-twenty over eighty.”
Nancy scribbled it down on a clipboard that I swore just appeared in her hands. I shifted in the chair, bringing my focus back to Daemon. He was eyeballing the doctor like he wanted to beat information out of him.
Dr. Roth checked our pulses next. Resting pulse was in the fifties, which was apparently a good thing, because Roth was practically humming. “Katy’s rate was in the high sixties each time before, blood pressure well into the high levels. It appears that with his presence, her rates are optimizing, matching his. This is good.”
“Why is it good?” I asked.
He pulled out a stethoscope. “It’s a good indication that the mutation is on a perfect, cellular level.”
“Or an indication that I’m pretty damn awesome,” Daemon suggested coolly.
That earned a small smile from the doctor, and my anxiety notched up. One would think that Daemon being his normal cocky, arrogant self was a good thing, but I’d learned that his smartass responses could mean he was seconds from exploding.
“Hearts beating in perfect sync. Very good,” Roth murmured, turning to Dasher. “She passed the stress test, correct? No outward signs of destabilization?”
“She did perfectly, as we’d hoped.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my hand to my stomach. I’d done as they expected? Did that mean they expected me to kill Blake? I couldn’t even consider that.
Daemon glanced at me. His eyes narrowed. “What exactly are these stress tests?”
My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want him to know what had happened—what I’d done. I turned to Dasher, and his expression was guarded. I prayed that the man had common sense. If he told Daemon about the fighting, it was likely that Daemon would go postal.
“The stress testing is run of the mill,” he explained. “I’m sure Katy can tell you that.”
Yeah, totally run of the mill, if getting your ass kicked and murder were ordinary things; but in a twisted way, I appreciated the lie. “Yeah, completely run of the mill.”
Doubt crossed Daemon’s features as he turned back to the doctor. “Were these stre
ss tests the same kind of things Dawson did?”
No one answered, which was answer enough. Daemon was very still, but his stare was sharp, and his mouth pressed into a hard line. He then reached over and took my hand in his, the gentle grasp so at odds with his demeanor.
“So we can move on to the more important phase of our work today.” Dr. Roth walked over to a cart full of utensils. “One of the most remarkable things about our extraterrestrial friends is their ability to heal not only themselves but others. We believe that unlocking that ability will provide us with the necessary information to replicate the function to heal others suffering from various diseases.”
The doctor picked up something, but his hand hid it as he turned back to us. “The whole purpose of this next exercise, Daemon, is to see how fast you can heal. We need to be able to see this before we can move on.”
The anxiety that had been riding me exploded like a cannonball. This could only be leading to one thing.
“Do tell?” Daemon asked in a low voice.
Roth visibly swallowed as he approached us, and I noticed that Archer and another guard were also closing ranks. “We need you to heal Katy,” he said.
The hand around mine tightened, and Daemon leaned forward. “Heal her from what exactly? Because I’m a little confused. I’ve already taken care of those bruises—which, by the way, I would love to know how she got them.”
My pulse kicked up as I took in my surroundings. The black dots were everywhere, and I had a feeling we were about to get reacquainted with the loving embrace of onyx.
“It won’t be anything serious,” the doctor explained gently. “Just a minor scratch that she will barely feel. Then I’m going to do some blood work and monitor your vitals. That is all.”
Suddenly all I could think about was Dawson and Bethany, of all the things they had done to Bethany to force Dawson to heal others. Nausea rolled, and I felt dizzy. Dasher hadn’t acted like getting Daemon here was a priority, but now that he was, we were going to see all the sides of Daedalus. And how could they start rolling in other people to heal until they knew the true extent of his abilities?
“No.” Daemon was seething. “You’re not going to hurt her.”
“You promised,” Nancy said. “Do I need to continuously remind you of that?”
“I didn’t agree to you hurting her,” he replied, the pupils of his eyes starting to glow.
Archer moved in closer. The other guard moved to the wall, near a very unfriendly looking button. Stuff was about to hit the fan, and when Dr. Roth showed what was in his hand, Daemon shot to his feet, letting go of mine and moving in front of me.
“Not going to happen, buddy,” he said, hands closing into fists.
Light glinted off the steel scalpel Roth held. The good doctor took a wise step back. “I promise she will barely feel it. I’m a doctor. I know how to make a clean cut.”
The muscles in Daemon’s back locked up. “No.”
Nancy made a sound of impatience as she lowered the clipboard. “This can be easy or this can become very difficult.”
His head swung in her direction. “Difficult for you or me?”
“For you and for Katy.” She took a step forward, either very brave or very stupid. “We could always restrain you. Or we could do this and get it over with. The choice is yours.”
Daemon looked like he was going to call their bluff, and I knew that they would go through with it. If he or I put up a fight, they’d fill this room with onyx, restrain him until they did whatever they wanted to me, and then release him. Either way, this was going to happen. The decision was ours—to go the clean or messy route.
I stood on legs that felt weak. “Daemon.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “No.”
Forcing a smile that felt weird, I shrugged. “It’s going to happen either way. Trust me.” Pain flickered across his face at the last two words. “If we do this, then it’s over. You agreed to this.”
“I did not agree to this.”
“I know…but you’re here, and…” And this was why I didn’t want him here. Turning to the doctor, I held out my hand. “He’s not going to let anyone do this. I’m going to have to do it myself.”
Daemon stared at me incredulously. The doctor turned to Nancy, who nodded. It was obvious that her position, whatever it was, usurped the sergeant’s.
“Go ahead,” Nancy said. “I trust that Katy knows what will happen if she decides to use that knife in a very bad manner.”
I shot the woman a hateful look as the cool instrument landed in my palm. Mustering up my courage, I turned to Daemon. He was still staring at me like I was insane. “Ready?”
“No.” His chest rose in a deep breath, and a very rare thing happened. Helplessness had crept into his eyes, turning them a mossy shade of green. “Kat…”
“We have to.”
Our eyes locked, and then he extended his hand. “I’ll do it.”
I stiffened. “No way.”
“Give it to me, Kat.”
There were several reasons why I wasn’t giving him the scalpel. Mainly because I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it, and I was also afraid he’d turn it into a projectile. I shifted slightly, opening my left hand. I’d never cut myself before, at least on purpose. My heart was pounding crazy fast and my stomach was jumping. The edge of the scalpel was wicked sharp, so I assumed it wouldn’t take much pressure to do the deed.
I poised it over my open palm, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Wait!” Daemon shouted, causing me to jerk. When I looked up, his pupils were completely white. “I need to be in my true form.”
Now I was staring at him like he was nuts. There had been many times when he did quick patch-up work in his human form. He only turned into a glow stick when things were serious. I had no idea what he was up to.
He turned to Nancy and the sergeant, who wore mirror looks of suspicion. “I want to make sure I do this quick and fast. I don’t want her to be in pain, and I don’t want it to scar.”
They seemed to believe that, because Nancy nodded her approval. Daemon took a deep breath, and then his body started to shimmer. He was changing. The outline of his form began to fade out, clothes and all. For a second, I forgot that we were in this room, that I was holding a scalpel about to slice open my own flesh, and that we were basically prisoners of Daedalus.
Watching him take on his true form was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Just before he’d completely faded out, he started to take shape again. Arms. Legs. Torso. Head. For a brief second, I could see him, really see him. The skin was translucent, like a jellyfish, and the network of veins was filled with a pearlescent glow. The features were Daemon, but sharper and more defined, and then he was shining as bright as the sun. A human-shaped light tinged in red that was so beautiful to look upon that tears filled my eyes.
I really don’t want you to do this.
Like always, hearing his voice in my head came as a shock. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it. I started to respond vocally but caught myself. You shouldn’t have come here, Daemon. This is what they want.
The luminous head cocked to the side. Coming here for you was the only thing I could do. Doesn’t mean I have to be okay with everything. Now do this before I change my mind and see if I really can’t tap into the Source and kill someone.
My gaze fell to the scalpel, and I cringed. Getting a good grip on the handle, I could feel several eyes on me. Being the coward that I am, I squeezed my eyes shut, brought the blade down on my palm, and sliced.
I hissed at the flare of pain and dropped the scalpel, watching the thin cut immediately bubble with blood. It was like a paper cut times a million.
Jesus H. Mary mother of Christ in crutches, came Daemon’s voice.
I’m not sure that’s how it goes, I told him, squeezing my palm shut against the burn.
I was vaguely aware of the doctor stooping down and grabbing the blade as I looked up. The light from Da
emon surrounded me as his hand outstretched, fingers becoming more visible as they circled my injured hand.
Open up, he said.
I shook my head, and his phantom sigh bounced around my head. He gently pried my hand open, his touch as warm as clothes freshly removed from the dryer. Man, that hurt more than I thought.
There was a low growl that replaced the sigh. Did you really think it wasn’t going to hurt, Kitten?
Whatever. I let him guide me over to the chair, and I sat, watching as he knelt before me, his head bowed. Heat flared over my palm as he started to do his thing.
“Amazing,” Dr. Roth whispered.
My eyes were trained on Daemon’s glowing, bent head. The warmth that blew off him filled the room. I reached out and placed my uninjured hand on his shoulder. His light pulsed, and the red at the edges bled inward an inch or so. Interesting.
You know how I like it when you touch me in this form. His voice sent a shiver down my spine.
Why do you have to make everything sound so dirty? But I didn’t pull my hand back.
His chuckle rolled through me, and by then, the pain in my palm had stopped. I’m not the one with the dirty mind, Kitten.
I rolled my eyes.
Both of his hands circled mine, and I was sure at that point my hand was already healed. Now stop distracting me.
I snorted. Me? You’re such a douche canoe.
“Fascinating,” Dr. Roth murmured. “They’re communicating. It never fails to amaze me when I see it.”
Daemon ignored him. I took this form to tell you that I spoke with Luc before I went to Mount Weather.
I sat up straight, all ears. Did he have anything to do with this?
No. And I believe him. He’s going to help us get out. I need—
“Show us your hand, Katy.” Nancy’s voice intruded.
I wanted to ignore her, but when I glanced up, I saw the other guard moving closer to Daemon with what looked like a stun gun in his hand. I jerked my hand from Daemon’s and showed them. “Happy?”
“Daemon, take your human form,” Nancy ordered, voice clipped.
A heartbeat passed, and then Daemon stood. In his true form, he seemed taller and was a hell of a lot more intimidating. His light pulsed once, more red than white, and then it dimmed out.
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