Opposition

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Opposition Page 5

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  answer to you.”

  “If you don’t want to find out what it feels like to have your human skin ripped away, one strip at a time,” I replied, my fingers digging through the shirt he wore, “you will.”

  He laughed. “You don’t scare me.”

  Rage whirled through me, mixing with frustration and a shitstorm of a thousand other emotions. I wanted nothing more than to take it all out on the douche. “You should be. And if you come around her again, if you even look in her direction or breathe on her, I will kill you.”

  “Why?” His gaze started to move over my shoulder, toward the bed. I gripped his chin, forcing his eyes on mine. His form shimmered. “Are you protecting her? I can sense she’s not just a human, but she’s not one of us.”

  “None of that is really important.” Skin and bone ground under my grip on his chin.

  He wrenched free from my grasp. Laughing, he tipped his head back against the wall. “You’ve been with the humans too long. That’s it. You’re too human. And you think I don’t see it? That the others haven’t noticed it?”

  My lips curled into a cold twist of a smile. “You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid if you think being raised on Earth will stop me from killing you. Stay away from her and my family.”

  Quincy swallowed hard as he met my stare. Whatever he saw in my gaze had him backing down. My smile spread and the white glow went out from his eyes. “I’m telling Rolland,” he gritted out.

  Letting go of him, I patted his cheek. “You do that.”

  He hesitated a moment, and then he pushed off the wall. Stalking across the room, he left, and he didn’t look back toward that bed. Not once. Brother knew better now. Waving my hand, I watched the door slowly swing shut. The click of the lock thundered through my veins. Locking the door was pointless in a house full of Luxen, but it was such a human thing to do.

  Closing my eyes, I scrubbed my hands down my face, suddenly exhausted on a bone-deep level. Coming up here might not have been the smartest of all my ideas, but there’d been no way that I couldn’t. From the moment I’d stepped back into this house, I’d been drawn to this room, and the lure was just as powerful as the pull from my own kind.

  I couldn’t even think her name.

  My walls were down and I tried to keep my thoughts empty, but as I turned toward the bed, it was like a punch in the stomach. I couldn’t move or breathe. I stood there as if suspended in air. Two days had passed since I last saw her, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

  And it had been a lifetime—a different world with a different future.

  Staring at her, I was reminded of going into Area 51 and finding her asleep after months of separation, but things had been different afterward—better, even. I almost laughed to think that being under Daedalus’s thumb was a more fortunate outcome for her, but it was true.

  She was lying on her back, and it was obvious that when someone who wasn’t Dawson brought her up here, no one gave any care for her comfort. She had just been dropped there, like a sack of dirty laundry. She was lucky that they’d placed her on a bed instead of the floor.

  Her sneakers were still on. One leg was bent at the knee and tucked under the other leg. The knees of her blue jeans were stained with dried blood. Her right arm was folded at the elbow and her other rested against her lower stomach. The oversize shirt—my shirt—had ridden up, exposing an eyeful of pale skin. My hands curled inward, clenching so tightly my knuckles ached.

  What had Quincy been doing in this room? Was it curiosity that had drawn the Luxen? I doubted he’d seen or felt a hybrid before, and these newly arrived Luxen put Curious George to shame. But was it something else?

  Christ. I couldn’t even think of all the possibilities, because none of them was good. If Rolland continued to value my presence, she’d stay alive, but after spending two days with them, I knew there were worse things than death.

  I was standing next to the bed without realizing I’d even moved. I shouldn’t be in here; this was the last place I should be, but instead of turning around like I had two functioning brain cells, I sat beside her, my eyes glued to the hand resting just above her navel.

  Her hand was so pale, so small. So fragile in spite of the fact she was no ordinary human. My gaze traveled up her arm. The shirt was torn and the material was charred over the shoulder, the navy blue dark with blood.

  I leaned over her, placing one hand beside her still hip. Blood had seeped into the white comforter and sheets. No wonder her skin was so washed out. My heart pounded as my gaze crawled across the long lengths of brown hair that had spilled across the pillow.

  My fingers burned to touch her hair, to touch her, but every muscle locked up in my body when my gaze stopped on her parted lips.

  Too many memories slammed into me, and I struggled through them, my pulse ratcheting up. The only thing that seemed to dampen the roar in my veins and the tightening of every muscle in my body was the shocking scarlet swipe under the corner of her lip.

  Blood.

  I dragged my eyes up, feeling pressure clamp down on my chest as I saw the ugly reddish-purple bruise along her temple. When Dawson had zapped her, she’d gone down, cracking her head on the floor, and that sound still echoed through my thoughts as if taunting me. Truth was it would haunt me. Forever.

  Her lashes were thick and unmoving, the skin under her eyes shadowed. There was another bruise along her hairline, but she still was the most—

  I cut off the thought, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly. For some reason, I saw Archer’s face, his expression as our gazes locked the second after she had gone down. In the bloody chaos and confusion, it had been like time had stopped. Then Archer had started toward her, and I . . . I had wanted to leave her there. I knew I had to leave her there, but someone else had grabbed her.

  And I hadn’t stopped him.

  Opening my eyes, I saw my arm tremble as I lifted her right hand. The moment our flesh met, a charge jumped from her skin to mine, stirring me. Carefully, I tugged down the hem of her shirt, my knuckles brushing across her stomach as I covered her, the contact brief but torturous.

  Then I caressed her, and I was fucking lost.

  My fingers drifted over her cool cheek, brushing a strand of soft hair back from her face. I don’t know how long I sat there, tracing the line of her jaw and the curve of her lips, and I really wasn’t aware of healing her, but the bruises faded from her skin and I knew the bleeding had stopped. I wanted to pick her up, clean her, but that would be too much.

  It could already be too much, and then what?

  Color now infused her cheeks, a sweet pink flush spreading across her face, and I realized she would wake soon.

  I couldn’t be in here.

  Gently, I removed her shoes and then lifted her legs, tucking them under the blanket. There was more that could’ve been done, should’ve been done, but this . . . this had to be enough.

  Closing my eyes, I lowered my head, inhaling the sweet, unique scent that was solely hers, and then I kissed her parted lips. Sensation rushed over me, a jolt of something close to being described as sublime, and I forced myself to lift my head and stand and back the hell away from her before it was too late, even though a dark voice whispered that it probably already was.

  There were a hundred ways all of this could play out, and I couldn’t see a happy ending with any of them.

  { Katy }

  I had to fight my way through the fog of unconsciousness, and my brain was slow to come back online. Lying still for several moments, I was kind of surprised by the fact that I wasn’t in any serious pain. There was a dull ache in my shoulder, and somewhere deep behind my eyes, there was a faint throbbing, but I’d expected more.

  Confusion swirled inside me as I played back those precious minutes before I landed headfirst in la-la land. The poo had hit the proverbial fan at the market and the Luxen had been everywhere, taking on human DNA at such a rapid pace that it had done something to the humans, killing them. I prayed that
little girl had made it to safety, but where was it safe? They’d been everywhere and . . .

  My heart sped up as I remembered feeling Daemon, seeing him in his true form, knowing he’d seen me, but then he’d disappeared and . . . and Dawson had hit me with a blast from the Source. Why would he have done that? Better yet, why hadn’t Daemon come to me?

  In the furthest reaches of my consciousness, there was an insidious whisper that spelled out the answer. Luc and Archer had suspected as much, but I couldn’t let myself believe that they had been right and that our greatest fear had come true.

  Just thinking that Daemon could be different now, could be one of them—whatever they actually were—made it feel like a fist had seized my heart.

  Taking a deep breath, I blinked my eyes open and immediately sucked in a startled breath, jackknifing up so fast my head felt like it would fall off my shoulders.

  Two emerald-colored eyes stared back into mine, framed with heavy black lashes. All at once I was tossed back to last summer, the morning after I’d discovered Daemon Black wasn’t quite human—when he’d frozen time, stopping a truck from turning me into roadkill. I’d woken up to find Dee staring at me.

  Just like now.

  Perched on the foot of the bed, Dee sat with her legs drawn to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. A curtain of dark hair fell over her shoulders in thick curls. To this day, she was probably the most beautiful girl I’d seen in real life, just like Ash, but Ash . . . she was no longer with us.

  But Dee was here.

  Relief loosened the tense muscles in my back as I stared at her, at the girl who had become my best friend, was still my best friend even after the tragedy with Adam. Dee was here and that had to mean something good, something great. I started to move toward her, letting the blanket fall to my waist, but I stilled.

  Dee stared at me, unblinking, the same way she had that morning. But something was off about her.

  Throat dry, I swallowed. “Dee?”

  One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. “Katy?”

  Unease rose at the sound of her voice. It was different, colder and flat. Instinct warned that I stay back, even though that didn’t make sense to me.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever wake up,” she said, loosening her arms from around her legs. “You sleep like the dead.”

  I blinked slowly, glancing around the room. I didn’t recognize the green walls or the framed photos of breathtaking landscapes. None of the furniture looked familiar.

  Neither did Dee.

  Pulling my legs up, away from her, I tried to swallow again as I glanced at a closed door near a large oak dresser. “I’m . . . I’m so thirsty.”

  “So?”

  My gaze bounced back to her, reacting to the sharpness in her tone.

  “What?” Her eyes rolled as she unfolded her long, slender legs. “You expect me to fetch you a drink?” She laughed, and my eyes widened at the strangeness of the sound. “Yeah, think again. You’re not going to die of thirst anytime soon.”

  Dumbfounded by her attitude, all I could do was stare at her as she stood and smoothed her hands down the sides of dark denim–clad thighs. Maybe I had really damaged my brain back in the market or woken up in an alternate universe where sweet Dee had turned into bitchy Dee.

  She faced me, her eyes narrowing in a way that reminded me of the woman in the grocery store after the Luxen had snatched her body. “You smell like blood and sweat.”

  My brows shot up my forehead.

  “It’s kind of repulsive.” She paused, her nose wrinkling. “Just saying.”

  Oookay. I slumped back against the headboard. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Wrong with me?” Dee laughed again. “For once, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  I stared at her. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. And you know what else you’re not?”

  “What?” I whispered.

  Dee’s lips curled into a cruel, almost mocking smile that transferred her beauty into something venomous. “You’re also—”

  She launched toward me, her hand rising, and I reacted without thinking. My right arm snapped up, and I caught her wrist before her palm connected with my cheek.

  “You’re also not weak,” she said, easily pulling her arm free from my grasp. Backing up, she placed her hands on her slender hips. “So you can continue to sit there and look at me like you’re half stupid, but we don’t have a lot of time to play catch-up, especially since it appears Daemon healed you.”

  Shaken by her attitude and the realization that I had been blasted with the Source twice and I probably should be concerned by that, I glanced down at my hand. Creases of dried blood marred my palm. I reached back to my left shoulder. The shirt was burned and the flesh tender, but it was in one piece.

  I lifted my gaze. “He . . . he was here?”

  “Was.”

  My heart turned over heavily, and then I moved. Forget Dee and her bitchiness or the fact that I apparently smelled. I needed to see Daemon. Flipping off the blanket, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. No shoes. No socks. What the? Didn’t matter. “Where is he now?”

  “I really don’t know.” Sighing, she pulled back the curtain covering the one window and stared out. “But the last I saw, he was heading into one of the bedrooms.” The curtain slipped from her fingers, drifting back into place as she faced me with a chilling smile. “Not alone.”

  I stilled.

  “Sadi was following him. Something that she’s quickly made a habit of doing. She’s probably in the process of attempting to molest him.” She paused, tapping her finger on her chin. “Then again, I don’t think it’s really molesting when it’s wanted.”

  Tiny balls of ice formed in my stomach. “Sadi?”

  “That’s right. You don’t know her. I’m sure you will, though.”

  I shook my head as my entire being rebelled against what she was insinuating. “No. No way.” I stood on shaky legs. “I don’t know what your problem is or what happened to you, but Daemon would never do anything like that. Ever.”

  Dee’s gaze sharpened as she eyed me like I wasn’t worth the ground she stepped on. “Things aren’t the way they used to be, Katy. The sooner you get with the program the better, because right now, you’re his weak link. That’s all you are to him.” She took a measured step forward, and I held my ground. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because of him. And not because he loves you, because that boat sailed the big old ocean blue the moment we opened our eyes. Thank God.”

  I flinched at her words, and the ice grew bigger, spreading into my veins.

  “And it’s about time,” she continued, tilting her head to the side. “Ever since you came into his life—our lives—everything has been messed up. If I could take you out right now without killing him, I would. I’d relish it. So would he. You’re nothing to us anymore, or to him. Nothing more than a problem we need to figure out how to handle.”

  I sucked in a breath that didn’t seem to do any good. A knot formed in my throat, making it hard to swallow, and I told myself that it didn’t matter what Dee was saying. Something was definitely wrong with her, because Daemon didn’t just love me; he was in love with me, and he’d do anything to be with me. Just as I would for him, and nothing could change that. The commitment we’d made to each other in Vegas may not have been technically the most legal of all things, but it had been real to me—to us. But her words . . . they still cut worse than any blade could ever inflict.

  Dee’s lashes lowered as her features pinched tight. “So . . . ?”

  I opened my mouth, but the ball of emotion cut me off for a moment, and when I spoke, my voice was hoarse. “What do you want me to say to that?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing really, but I need to take you to see him.”

  “Daemon?” I tensed.

  “No.” She chuckled, the sound light and airy, and for a moment, it sounded like the Dee I
knew. “Not him.”

  When she didn’t elaborate and I didn’t move, she clucked her tongue in frustration and then popped forward. Grabbing my arm in a tight grasp, she all but dragged me out of the bedroom and into a wide hall.

  “Come on,” she urged, impatient.

  I struggled to keep up with her long-legged pace. Bare-foot and exhausted and beyond confused, I was feeling more human than hybrid, but when we got to the landing, she’d nearly pulled my arm out of my socket and had my shoulder aching something fierce.

  “I can walk. You don’t have to drag me.” I yanked and slipped free, knowing that she simply let me. “I can . . .” The framed photo of an attractive family on the stairwell caught my eye. The glass was broken and there was something dark and rusty smeared across it.

  My stomach roiled.

  “You can just stand there?” Her eyes narrowed on me. “If you

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