Opposition

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  blinking on in succession. There were so many of them, too many. We would not be able to fight them all. We would not be able to escape. And this was my fault.

  I’m sorry, I said to Daemon. The only thing I could think was that maybe one of us could get away if the other caused the distraction. He didn’t deserve this. Shoulder aching and possibly smoking, I started to pull away from him. I’m sorry.

  Daemon’s arm tightened around me, and I didn’t make it far at all. No. His voice wrapped around me. Don’t even hink it. If this is it, then we face it together. His light receded, revealing the form I’d fallen in love with first. The unruly dark waves, broad cheekbones, and bright emerald-colored eyes. “Together,” he repeated out loud.

  My breath caught, and static built in the air around us. My body was trembling from the unspent energy and the knowledge that there was no escape.

  “Together,” I whispered.

  Daemon bowed his head, lowering his mouth to mine, as a sudden rush of noise caused the blood to freeze in my veins. I feared that this was it—the end.

  The great massive oaks and pines around us shook, branches rattled, and birds—thousands of them—took flight, their wings beating into the air as they circled high above the colony of homes, veering sharply to head in the direction of where we’d come from.

  What the . . . ?

  The strangest thing happened. Clouds, thick and so dark they were almost black, dropped from the sky above Seneca Rocks, and they continued to fall to the ground at a rapid pace.

  Except they weren’t clouds.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  Daemon hauled us back, farther away from the line of Luxen, as they started to shift in and out of their forms.

  Someone—had to be a Luxen who’d been on Earth or an Origin—shouted. “Arum!”

  24

  { Katy }

  The mass of Arum hit the ground, their forms solidifying as they rose over the homes like oily shadows, and then they blanketed everything like black snow. A blast of arctic air hit us from behind.

  We turned, and there were more, swooping down among the trees, rushing forward, barely missing us as they swarmed the ground like an army of ants.

  “They’re here,” Daemon said. “He’s here.”

  Oh, boy, were they ever. The Arum were everywhere.

  It was like watching a hundred bowling balls knock down a thousands pins. The Arum on the ground slammed into the first line, appearing to swallow them whole as they converged on the Luxen.

  Dropping from the sky above, they snatched up Luxen, tossing them into the air, where they were caught midflight by another Arum as some shifted into something that was both solid and yet not.

  I stumbled back as a Luxen flew past me, slamming into a tree. Before it could fall, an Arum sped forward, a blur of midnight, catching the Luxen and tossing it against the tree with enough power that it shattered the bark. Tiny bits flew into the air.

  The Arum solidified into a tall woman with jet-black hair. She reared an arm back and then thrust her hand deep into the chest of the Luxen. The scream pierced the roar in my ears as she shifted back into oily smoke.

  An Origin hit the ground from—I didn’t even know where. The impact shook the branches above, and a shower of leaves floated down as the Origin slid across the ground, kicking up loose soil and rocks. The male struggled to his feet, letting loose a bolt of the Source that flew off-target as a thick shadow brought it back down to the ground. The blast of white light hit a tree, cracking the thick elm in half. It came down on the mass of Arum and Luxen. Some scattered out to the sides, and the brilliant lights of the Luxen were snuffed out as another wave of Arum descended into the fight.

  “Holy . . .” I breathed, hands shaking.

  Twisting around, I saw another Luxen snatched out of the air. The feedings had begun in full force, and I . . . I’d never seen anything like this. It was a mess of brutality, and yet, it was disturbingly awe-inspiring—the flashes of light and thick shadows. Such contrast.

  One of the forms broke free and solidified in front of us, a tall creature with skin like polished obsidian, and then it took form. Sharp cheekbones. Lips. Straight nose. A bare chest and leather pants. Bleached blond hair.

  Lotho stood in front of us, head thrown back. Shimmery blue liquid was splattered across his alabaster chest. He grinned madly. “Dinnertime.”

  Before either of us could respond, he headed back into the . . . God, I didn’t know what to call it. I imagined it was like when the Native Americans had decided they’d had enough of the Pilgrims and picked them off with skill and ease. A straight massacre—a well-deserved massacre, but still.

  Shimmery blood tinted blue sprayed in every direction, coating the grass and paved sidewalks of the small village. Lights were going out like smashed lightning bugs. The fight moved farther away, toward the cluster of homes that had once been protected by the beta quartz embedded in the mountains.

  Roofs of houses caved as Luxen and Arum crashed into them. Sparks flew as power lines fell to the ground. Flames erupted from inside the homes. A building exploded off in the distance, causing me to flinch as a wave of heat rolled through the clearing, but the red-hot blast quickly chilled.

  Another house exploded—boards winging into the air and glass shattering. I jumped, thinking I heard Daemon call my name, but I couldn’t turn away from the destruction. Fire speared the sky. The screams . . . they were coming from everywhere, all around us, ringing in my head and dragging over my too-tight skin.

  My stomach roiled.

  Which was stupid and weak, because I’d killed before.

  That thought was like a second blast of frigid air dumped on my head. The scenery in front of me blurred. How many times had I killed? God, I think I’d lost count.

  “Kat, your heart . . .” Daemon said, one hand moving to cup my cheek. His grip on my waist loosened, and as our gazes met and held, I couldn’t believe there could be such beauty among such carnage. “Calm down, Katy. It’s over.”

  Was it really? The energy spiked in me as I gazed back at the . . . the horror taking place, and then I pulled free.

  Suddenly, I needed . . . I didn’t know what I needed. My skin was still too tight and it tingled. The heat was back, burning from the inside. I had to get away from here, away from Daemon, away from everything.

  My head was a mess as I turned, and I started running again, but this time I wasn’t chasing anything. Or maybe I was chasing myself. I didn’t know or understand. I just ran, and it wasn’t until I’d cleared the colony and started up a rough incline, a path dug deep into soil and rock, that I realized I was running toward Seneca Rocks and up them.

  The climb was hard, rough, and my feet slipped many times. Pressure slammed down on my chest the higher I went, until it was difficult to draw in a breath or to really think about what the hell I was doing. And I really didn’t want to think about that, because this was crazy.

  I knew I wasn’t self-destructing. I think I knew that, because as I scrambled up the ragged path, stumbling over small bushes and sliding over pebbles, I remembered how it had been for Carissa. She had been like something shoved in a microwave that shouldn’t have been placed in there.

  My legs almost gave out when I reached the first of the peaks, a part that was nothing more than a ledge above a steep drop-off. I stopped—stopped walking, stopped thinking and climbing.

  Dragging in deep breaths, I lifted my chin and looked up, and I swore I saw ghosts from the past. I thought I saw Dawson and Bethany looking down on me. My gaze traveled down the other peak to where I stood.

  I didn’t see ghosts.

  It was a memory, a conversation about what had happened to them. It all had started here. Dawson had healed Beth after she’d fallen from the rocks, which had caused her uncle to contact Daedalus, and then everything from that moment had led to this.

  Everything had started with Dawson and Beth.

  “Kat?”

  My breath
caught as I heard his voice. My chin dipped to my chest as I slowly wheeled around.

  And everything ended with Daemon and me.

  He stared at me from the path, his eyes brilliant as he watched me. His chest rose and fell as fast as mine. “Kat,” he said again.

  My head still didn’t feel screwed on right as he took a step onto the ledge. I backed across the smooth rock, breathing heavily. I closed my eyes and I saw Mom—I saw her without blue eyes, but with beautiful hazel ones, and when I took a breath, it got stuck around a sob in my throat. I saw Ethan sitting in my kitchen and then standing on Daemon’s porch, the first time I’d seen him. I saw Blake, that carefree, charming smile that had hidden so many secrets. I saw Carissa, who we would never get answers about, and then I saw countless faces with unknown names.

  “Kitten,” Daemon tried again, and I opened my eyes. I saw him. “What are we doing?”

  We. Not you. We.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I thought . . . I just needed to get away from it.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  It was, wasn’t it? I took another step back, my gaze never leaving his. It was obvious. I wasn’t self-destructing. I sat down. Or plopped down. I wasn’t sure which. Several moments passed and I remembered the strangest thing. “This . . . this is like Snowbird.”

  He stared at me like he was worried I had truly lost my mind. Maybe I had. “What?”

  “The legend you told me about.” I turned, looking over the ridge. Every muscle in my body ached. There was a good chance there was a hole in my shoulder, and I was so very, very tired. “This is like Princess Snowbird.”

  Daemon didn’t respond.

  “She climbed up these rocks and only one brave warrior kept pace with her until the end.” I wet my dry lips, forcing my lungs open with another deep breath. “You told me all about it when we took that walk, before we saw the bear.” My gaze shifted over to him, and his expression had softened. “You told me . . . told me about the most stunning people and what was inside them.” I paused, frowning. “The way you said it sounded so very beautiful.”

  He came closer, stopping in front of me. He knelt down, his eyes shining. “I remember. I said, ‘The most beautiful people, ones whose beauty is only rivaled by what is inside of them, are the ones who are quietly unaware of it.’ Or something like that.”

  “That was it.” I nodded.

  He tilted his head to the side. “I was talking about you then. Those words were meant for you.”

  My eyes met his again and I swallowed. Hard.

  “You had no idea how beautiful you were. I don’t even think you do now, but it’s what’s inside of you.” Carefully, he reached out and placed his hand between my breasts. “That’s the most beautiful thing in the world. What’s in you.”

  Tears rose, and I let out a shaky breath. Those words . . . well, they did something in me. I wasn’t a murderer. I wasn’t crazy. I was tired and I was a million other things, and to Daemon, I was also beautiful on the outside and inside.

  “Thank you.”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat as he moved toward me and circled his arms around my shoulders. “You never need to thank me for the truth.”

  I clutched at his shirt. “At least I didn’t laugh at you this time.”

  “There’s always that.” There was a smile in his voice. “Oh, Kitten . . .”

  From where we were, it looked like thick, dark clouds passing, snuffing out tiny stars, except the mass wasn’t clouds and the lights flickering out weren’t stars. Daemon rested his chin atop my head as he smoothed his hand up my back, and I felt the familiar warmth of his touch. “It’s over.”

  Finally, I relaxed against him and closed my eyes. It was over.

  { Daemon }

  I wasn’t sure I closed my eyes at all during the night. Maybe I had slept a bit, but I couldn’t confirm that. Watching Kat was the last thing and the first thing I remembered.

  She was curled against me, her cheek resting on my now-numb arm. We were in my house and before she’d crashed last night, she had changed into one of my shirts that had been left untouched in my closet. It was way too big for her, sliding down her shoulder, exposing a tantalizing amount of skin.

  I was pretty fascinated by that skin. With my not-dead arm, I trailed my fingers across her shoulder, following her collarbone. I’d been doing that for half the night. Every so often, she’d manage to snuggle closer, tossing a leg over mine or pressing her body against mine.

  I worried about her.

  Really freaking worried about her.

  Even after discovering what had happened to her mother, she’d held it together yesterday, taken out Ethan, and witnessed the Arum swarming in. Yeah, she’d freaked and bolted. But hell, she had it controlled when the Arum had blown through the colony later, having suffered only minor losses before they headed toward Northern Virginia to finish it.

  When word came late in the evening that the invading Luxen had turned into one giant buffet for the Arum, she’d smiled as those around us celebrated the victory, the end of this madness. But there hadn’t been a lot of time to comfort her or to really talk about it. All I’d been able to do was hold her while she fell asleep. Didn’t seem like enough.

  There really wasn’t ever enough.

  My chest was heavy with the loss, with the pain I knew she’d suffer for a long time to come from a death that was so needless and cruel. Her family had been stripped away from her. Her father lost to cancer and her mother to one of my own kind.

  Still, like some kind of miracle, her last words to me before she’d fallen asleep had been I love you. The fact that she still could feel something like that blew me away.

  I would’ve done anything to save her from this pain, but like so many other things I wanted to go back and erase, this was one of them we would have to learn to accept, that we would have to face together.

  Kat stirred against me, stretching out in a way that reminded me so much of the nickname I’d given her. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips as her lashes fluttered open.

  Sleep clouded her pretty eyes as they met mine. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  Her hand flattened out against my bare chest as her gaze swept across my face. “Have you been up long?”

  “I’m not even sure I slept.”

  “So you’ve been watching me sleep?”

  One side of my lips kicked up. “Maybe.”

  “Well, look who’s being the creeper this time around.”

  “Call me what you want, I don’t care.” I moved my thumb along her lower lip. “I spent hours staring at the best damn scenery.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Flattery will get you everything.”

  “I already have everything.”

  “That was sweet of you.” She patted my chest like I was a good boy, and I ignored the parts of me that got all happy about that. Her gaze drifted away and circled the room before coming back to me. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

  I curled my arm around her, overlooking the rush of pins and needles. “I think so. I mean, for the most part. Things are going to be different. Life will be different, but it’s over.”

  Kat’s lashes lowered as she bit down on her lower lip in a way that got those parts of me paying close attention. “What are we going to do now?” she whispered.

  “Whatever we want to do.”

  She rolled onto her back but didn’t get very far. “That sounds really nice.”

  The sudden clanging of pots from the kitchen down below brought a winsome smile to her face. “I’m assuming Dee and Archer are up?”

  “Yeah. I think I heard them moving around not too long ago. They’re probably making good use of the fact that whoever was staying here kept the kitchen stocked.” My brows knitted. “Archer supposedly slept in Dawson’s room last night, but I heard a bedroom—”

  “Daemon.” She laughed.

  I sighed. “I know. Turnin
g over a new leaf and blah, blah.” I started to get up. “I better go and see—”

  Her arm had snaked up, looping around my neck, and she tugged me down. Yeah, I didn’t resist. There was no such thing as willpower when it came to her, especially not when she lifted her head and kissed me.