Damn.
For the first time that day, he appeared peaceful. I let him be and stepped into the night air. The wind whipped through the tall grass as crickets chirped noisily. Moonlight slanted across the bayou on the other side of the road and my mind felt clear. I leaned against the vehicle, arms crossed. I stayed like that until a dusty light lit up the sky and dawn arrived. Moments later, Daemon shuffled out of the SUV with bed head.
He yawned. “Hey sorry, I was about to drive off the road if I didn’t get some sleep.”
“No worries.” The events of yesterday came back to me, one in particular. “Are you really telepathic?”
Daemon shot me a lopsided grin, turning my stomach into mush. “You’ve been waiting to ask me that since we left, haven’t you?”
“Maybe.”
His voice snaked into my mind, answering my question. “You’re cute.”
A blush heated my cheeks as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I couldn’t believe Daemon was telepathic. Then again, two days ago I wouldn’t believe it if somebody said zombies existed. It made me wonder what other true facts were hidden in Sci-Fi movies.
“Why doesn’t it work both ways?” I wondered out loud. “It seems kind of useless if only you can communicate but not the other person.”
“It does work both ways if you’re a zombie.”
Of course, another thing that separated Daemon and me. “Right.”
Daemon joined me against the vehicle, crossed his feet at the ankles and dipped his head back. A light breeze caressed my skin, reminding me how desperately I needed a shower.
I picked a hangnail on my thumb. “Why didn’t you ever mention Rhodium is your weakness?”
Daemon shrugged. “I told you we had a weakness. Just didn’t specify what it was since it didn’t seem important at the time.”
Anger zipped through my veins at break neck speed. Why did Daemon get to decide what was important or not? My life was on the line, not his. Any information that pertained to the situation at hand shouldn’t be kept from me.
Fire flashed in my eyes. “That’s not for you to determine.”
At my tone, Daemon dipped his chin forward and leveled me with a look. He obviously wasn’t used to being challenged. Finally, a sigh escaped his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Daemon set his sights on the landscape as he spoke. “When we come in contact with Rhodium, it melts our skin until we turn to ash. However when we’re shot with it, it attaches to our cells and melts our organs. Neither way is very pretty. Since it’s so expensive and there isn’t a huge supply of it, the voodoo priest is one of the few who is well stocked due to his connections. I stole a couple of bullets when I left the clan. Two were used on the men in the van and the last one was used on Parker.”
What he was implying sunk into my brain. “So, we are unarmed?”
“Basically but we’ll figure something out.”
Daemon’s blasé attitude was unnerving for my straight-laced, always had a plan, type A personality. When the voodoo priest and his zombies came after us again, and they would, I didn’t want to be unprepared with only our shoelaces as protection. I worriedly chewed on my bottom lip.
Daemon took notice and pulled me into his side. “Sky, I made a promise to always protect you and I intend to keep that promise.” He tipped my chin up with his finger and grazed his lips against mine. “Ok?” Words ceased to exist, hell everything ceased to exist when he was this close to me. Daemon grinned as I nodded. “Good. We should get back on the road.”
Dismay hit my core when he let go of me and retreated to the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Daemon?”
He turned around.
“When I found you beaten, you were lying across your grave. I thought you didn’t grow up in Castor.”
“My whole entire extended family lived in Castor and so did I until I was three. It’s where our burial plots are.”
“So when you said it was the closest you could get to home…”
“I meant it literally.”
That was a good enough answer for me. “Ok. Let’s go.”
Relief relaxed his facial muscles. “Awesome.”
“But I am driving.” I went walked over to his side and snatched the keys out of Daemon’s his hand. “Just tell me where we’re going.”
Daemon groaned. “Jesus, you don’t give up do you?”
“Come on,” I coaxed.
“Fine. We’re going to New Orleans. It’s a straight shot from here.”
Daemon and I were on the same wavelength without realizing it. New Orleans was the destination I had in mind if everything else failed.
“Why can’t the woman who helped heal me help us out?”
“Because she specializes in exactly that. Healing.” Daemon cocked an eyebrow. “And we don’t want to heal the voodoo priest, do we?”
“Kind of. We want to heal him of his evil tendencies.” A thought popped into my head, changing the course of our conversation. “If you had more Rhodium, would it help kill the voodoo priest?”
“No. He’s a human encased in magic, which means Rhodium wouldn’t work on him.”
Encased brought forth the image of a man in a tomb, trapped forever but that wasn’t what Daemon was implying. “So basically, he has enough spells to keep him safe?”
“Yes. He has spells ranging from eternal life to protection. We have to figure out how to shatter them.”
I mulled over what Daemon said. “Alright.”
“Thank God.” Daemon retreated to the passenger side and climbed in.
I started up the SUV, cranked the radio and drove back onto the long stretching highway.
Since Melissa’s car accident, this was the first time I’d gotten behind the wheel. Anxiety kept me company the first hour, but Daemon distracted me with funny jokes and strange stories. It was better than a Valium. Up ahead, I spied a sign for a pancake house and flicked on my turn single.
“What are you doing?” Daemon wondered.
“I’m hungry and haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
He sighed as if it was a great burden to eat a stack of fluffy pancakes dosed in syrup. “Alright, but can we make it quick? My friend was expecting us an hour ago.”
Merging off the highway, I pulled into a half empty parking lot and maneuvered the vehicle into a space out front. The restaurant’s exterior screamed fixer upper. White paint was peeling off in strips, the red awning was faded, and the neon sign was missing an H.
As I clutched the door handle, Daemon laid his hand on my arm. “You can’t go in like that.”
Right, my clothes were covered in zombie blood and sweat. His outfit wasn’t any better off either, though. “What do you suggest?”
Daemon stepped out of the vehicle and went around to the back. Popping it open, he scrounged around for a couple of seconds then returned to the driver’s side. A flannel button up and a black t-shirt were gripped in each hand.
“I’ll take the flannel.” He threw me the oversize black shirt. “You can wear that.”
“I’m not wearing anything that touched the zombie’s bodies.”
Daemon tugged on the flannel over his shirt. “Fine then have the waitress call the police on you.”
When he put it like that. Sighing, I got rid of my favorite article of clothing and tugged on the shapeless black t-shirt. I knotted it at my waist so that it didn’t hang to my knees.
“Let’s go.” I climbed out of the SUV and walked into the diner. A bell jangled overhead, announcing our arrival.
A waitress in her mid-fifties strolled up to us. “Sit wherever you like,” she drawled.
Daemon took the lead, which provided me with a nice view of his backside. He chose a booth in the corner and slipped across the vinyl seats to the window. I followed suit with a smile that was wide enough to crack my face open. Pancakes were my happy place.
The waitress handed us two sticky
menus. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Just a coffee, black, no sugar.” I tapped my finger against my lips. “Also, a small orange juice and an iced tea.”
Daemon held back a snort of laughter. “I’m fine. I’ll just steal one of her drinks.”
The waitress face remained expressionless. She turned on her heels and walked off to the back. I scooted the menu to the edge of the table without glancing over it. There was no need.
“You are not stealing one of my drinks,” I said.
“Who can possibly drink three different beverages?”
My mom introduced me to the breakfast drink club when I was six years old. She said three drinks cover your range of taste buds. Sour was coffee, orange juice was sweet, and iced tea was mellow. Who knows if it actually made sense but it was something that had become engrained in me. Now only one drink seemed silly. I dug my cell phone out of my bag. I had three missed calls from my mom and ten texts from Emily.
I shrugged. “I can. Would you mind if I just called Emily and my mom real quick? I need her to cover for me so that my mom doesn’t worry. My mom has been through enough.”
Daemon’s expression hardened. “I told you. That’s not a good idea.”
I steepened my hands together in a praying position. “Pretty please with a cherry on top.” My eyes grew wide. “Please, please….”
“God, you are relentless.” He blew out a breath. “Don’t tell them our location or what happened.”
They hadn’t been clued in about anything that had to do with the voodoo priest since day one. If I tried to catch them up now, it would take hours, plus who knew if Emily would even believe me?
I jumped out of the booth and kissed Daemon on the cheek. “Thank you.”
I pushed open the door and stepped outside. I walked over to a grassy area to my left. I stared at my phone in my hand, at a loss on what to tell Emily and my mom. It couldn’t be a flimsy lie or else they would tug on their detective hats.
I punched in my mom’s number. She answered halfway through the fifth ring. “Hello,” she said gruffly.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Sky? Are you ok? I tried calling you earlier.”
Guilt stabbed in the stomach. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, it was a late night.”
“I’m sure it was.” I heard her take a sip of coffee. “Do you know what time you’re coming home?”
“I’m actually going to stay at Emily’s through the weekend. We have an art project for school we have to do together.”
“Is that ok with her parents?”
I bounced on the balls of my feet, antsy to get this conversation over with. I felt as if any moment my mom would catch onto my deceit. “Yes, it’s no problem. I have to go. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Have fun.”
As she was about to hang up, I said, “I love you.”
My mom’s voice held the promise of a smile. “I love you too.”
As soon we disconnected, a lump formed in my throat. At the end of the day, my mom was my best friend and I hated the fact we had fought before I left. If and when I did get home, there would be no more petty fights between us. Next on my agenda was Emily. When she answered, it took a good five minutes for her to calm down. She kept repeating the same sentiment, “I thought you were dead.” Once she quieted, I explained my hasty retreat out of Castor and asked her to cover for me. She wasn’t happy about lying to my mom but I promised her the juicy details when I got back. Emily couldn’t resist a hot piece of gossip so she agreed. By the time I walked back inside the diner, my pancakes and three drinks were waiting for me.
I slid into the booth across from Daemon. “Thanks for ordering for me.”
“Sure. I was afraid if you didn’t get your pancakes, you might kill somebody.”
I poured a hefty dose of syrup on top of the fluffy stack of carbs. The first bite was pure magic. “These are everything and more.”
Suddenly, his voice sounded loud and clear in my mind. “We need to leave. NOW.” Taken aback, my fork clattered to the table. I jerked my chin up and saw Daemon’s intense gaze on mine. “Follow me and do not ask questions,” he said, telepathically.
I glanced at my breakfast with remorse. It was a sin to leave behind a perfectly good stack of pancakes but something or someone had Daemon spooked. “Fine,” I said, pushing the plate aside.
Daemon threw down a stack of cash on the table as he hauled me out of the booth. We stumbled toward the kitchen’s swinging doors. When I glanced back, five men had entered the diner. Their hair was buzzed off, their eyes held the cold menace of serial killers, and…I gasped. They were marked with the snake, which meant the voodoo priest’s zombies had found us and they had brought back up.
Bacon grease hung heavy in the air when we entered the nerve center of the restaurant. There was an old man hunched over the grill, a spatula gripped in his hand. He didn’t register our presence. Daemon urgently yanked me toward the door marked ‘EXIT.’ Back in the main area, I heard silverware clatter amongst the chorus of screams. Fear froze my blood.
I looked over my shoulder. “Daemon, we shouldn’t have left those people back there.”
“And instead do what? Stay and get killed? They won’t harm them,” He pushed open the door to the outside. “Hurry unless you do have a death wish I wasn’t aware of.”
A fierce need to survive propelled my heels forward. I breathed in the dewy morning air and glanced around at our surroundings. We were in the back parking lot, next to the dumpsters. Unless we wanted to dumpster dive, there was nowhere to hide.
“We are totally fucked,” I mumbled.
Daemon trained his sight on a bright red four-by-four truck lifted six inches off the ground. “Don’t give up so easily.” We ran toward the truck and skidded to a stop. “Do you have a hairpin in your pocket?”
Strangely enough, I did. Handing it over to him, he jingled the hairpin into the truck’s lock. Behind us, the exit door swung open and banged against the restaurant. The zombies planted their feet, prepared to battle to the death.
“I hope you’re the master of picking locks because there are five big zombies growling at us,” I said.
The zombies choreographically cracked their knuckles. It would’ve almost been comical if I hadn’t been so afraid for my life. As they were about to start sprinting toward us, I heard the sweet sound of the truck unlocking.
Daemon jumped into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I ran around and slid into the seat opposite of him. Daemon did something underneath the steering wheel and the truck roared to life. He threw it into gear and the wheels spun widely. I watched a bloom of dust blanket the zombies when they came to a grinding halt behind us. My head bounced against the window as the truck sharply veered to the left.
“Sorry,” Daemon said.
“No need to apologize. Just make sure we get out of here in one piece.”
“Aye Aye, captain.”
In the rearview window, I saw one of the zombies hunch onto his hind legs and spring upwards. A scream ripped out of my throat at the sound of a loud thump on the roof. The zombie hung his head over the windshield while his fist cracked against the glass.
Daemon kept his eyes peeled on the parking lot. “Hang tight.” The truck u-turned in a dizzying circle, throwing the zombie off to the side. He landed in the dirt, bones mangled yet got back up and was ready to undertake his mission once again.
Awareness sparked inside me. “They will never give up.”
“No they won’t especially when they’re on green juice.”
I took it Daemon wasn’t talking about the kind of juice that hippies and rich people are crazy for, which FYI taste like grass. Rather, he was talking about the drink I had read about in the book. It mentioned it heightened the zombies’ abilities but I had no clue by how much.
Daemon’s eyes scrunched together in annoyance. “Shut up.”
Was he talking to me?
“I didn’t say anything.” He shook his head so rapidly; I could hear his brain rattle in his skull. I laid my hand over his knee. “Are you ok?”
“They won’t shut up with their incessant chanting. Can’t there be a different war cry then that stupid noise?” Daemon bit out.
“And you can hear them in your head? Right.”
The zombies re-grouped and faced the truck head on. Determination lined Daemon’s mouth. “We have one option left.” He revved the engine. “We have to go through them.”
Before I could voice my opinion on whether that was a good idea or not, Daemon pushed on the gas pedal, gunning the truck. I watched the speedometer rise. The zombies kept their ground without an inch of fear. I slapped my hands over my eyes at the last minute. A sickening thump broke the tense silence as bodies flew. I peeked out of my fingers and saw a zombie hanging on to the hood of the truck while another was attached to the rear bumper. Daemon jerked the wheel widely, trying to shake them loose. Their grips were fierce though and they remained where they were. The one on the hood of the truck yanked himself forward and cracked his fist against the windshield. Not this again. You would think they had a better game plan than repeating the same movement.
As if he read my thoughts, Daemon glanced over at me. “While the juice does heighten their powers, it takes away their ability to think for themselves and replaces it with the simple need to kill.”
I looked at the man on the hood of the truck. His eyes were glazed over as if he no clue where he was or what he was doing. Daemon suddenly slammed his foot on the break. The zombie slid over the top of the truck and took the other zombie on the bumper to the ground.
“Now, that’s how you do things,” Daemon said triumphantly.
The truck lurched forward as we continued onto the highway, free and clear. Those poor patrons in the diner were going to be traumatized after what they witnessed. I voiced my concerns to Daemon.
“They manipulate their memories, Sky. They won’t remember a thing except that they ate their breakfast like any other day.”
I frowned. “That sounds like a violation of privacy. Do you also have this ‘gift’?” Daemon slightly tipped his chin. “Have you ever used it on me?”
The Accidental Kiss Page 13