Opal (A Lux Novel)

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Opal (A Lux Novel) Page 6

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  The truth appeared to infuriate him more. “That issue aside, what you promised Dawson was freaking unbelievable.”

  “What?” My arms dropped to my sides.

  “Help him find Beth? How in the hell are we supposed to do that?”

  I shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.”

  “Oh, that’s good, Kat. We don’t know how to find her but we’ll help. Awesome plan.”

  Heat rushed up my spine. Oh, this was grand. “You’re such a hypocrite! You told me yesterday we’d find out what Will was up to, but you have no idea how. The same thing with Daedalus!” He opened his mouth, but I knew I had him. “And you couldn’t lie to Dawson when he asked what you’d do if they had me. You’re not the only one who gets to make brash and stupid decisions.”

  His mouth snapped shut. “That’s not the point.”

  I cocked a brow. “Lame argument.”

  Daemon shot forward, his voice harsh. “You had no right to make those kinds of promises to my brother. He’s not your family.”

  I flinched, taking a step back. Being smacked would’ve felt better. The way I saw it, at least I talked Dawson off the cliff. Sure, promising to help find Beth wasn’t ideal, but it was better than him running off like a crackhead.

  I tried to rein in my anger and disappointment, because I understood where a lot of his fury was coming from. Daemon didn’t want me to get hurt, and he was worried about his brother, but his inherent, near-obsessive need to be protective didn’t excuse his douchebaggery.

  “Dawson is my problem, because he’s your problem,” I said. “We’re in this together.”

  Daemon’s eyes met mine. “Not on everything, Kat. Sorry. That’s just the way it is.”

  The back of my throat burned, and I blinked several times, refusing to shed tears even though my chest ached so badly. “If we’re not together on everything, then how can we really be together?” My voice cracked. “Because I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  His eyes widened. “Kat—”

  I shook my head, knowing where this conversation was heading. Unless he was willing to see me as something other than a fragile piece of china, we were doomed.

  Walking away from Daemon was the hardest thing I’d done. Made worse by the fact he didn’t try to stop me, because that wasn’t his style, but deep down, in a place that spoke only the truth, I hadn’t expected him to. But I wanted him to. I needed him to.

  And he didn’t.

  Chapter 7

  As expected, school resumed on Monday, and there was nothing worse than returning after an unexpected break and having all the teachers buzzing to make up for lost time. Add in the fact that Daemon and I hadn’t made up after our major blowout yet and, well, Mondays always sucked.

  I dropped into my seat, pulling out my massive trig textbook.

  Carissa eyed me over the rim of her burnt-orange glasses. New ones. Again. “You look absolutely thrilled to be back.”

  “Whee,” I said unenthusiastically.

  Sympathy marked her expression. “How…how is Dee? I’ve tried calling her a couple of times, but she hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

  “Or mine,” Lesa added, sitting down in front of Carissa.

  Lesa and Carissa had no idea that Adam hadn’t really died in a car accident, and we had to keep them in the dark. “She’s really not talking to anyone right now.” Well, besides Andrew, which was so bizarre I couldn’t even think about it.

  Carissa sighed. “I wish they had the funeral for him here. I would’ve loved to pay my respects, you know?”

  Apparently Luxen didn’t do funerals. So we’d made up some excuse about the funeral being out of town and only family could visit.

  “It just sucks,” she said, glancing at Lesa. “I thought maybe we could go to the movies after school this week. Take her mind off it.”

  I nodded. I liked the sound of that but doubted we’d get very far with her. It was also time to put Plan A into motion—which was reintroducing Dawson to society. Even though I was on his brother’s poo-poo list, Dawson had stopped by yesterday and explained that Matthew was on board. Probably wouldn’t happen until the middle of the week, but it was a go.

  “She may not be able to do anything this week, though,” I said.

  “Why?” Curiosity sparkled in Lesa’s dark eyes. Loved the girl, but she was such a gossip whore. Which was exactly what I needed.

  If people expected Dawson’s return, it wouldn’t be such a surprise when it did happen. Lesa would make sure word got out.

  “You guys are not going to believe this, but…Dawson’s come home.”

  Carissa turned several degrees paler, and Lesa shouted something that sounded an awful lot like what the duck. I’d kept my voice low, but their reactions garnered a lot of attention. “Yeah, apparently he’s alive. Ran away and finally decided to come home.”

  “No way,” Carissa breathed, her eyes going wide behind her glasses. “I can’t believe this. I mean, it’s great news but everyone thought…well, you know.”

  Lesa was just as shell-shocked. “Everyone thought he was dead.”

  I forced a casual shrug. “Well, he’s not.”

  “Wow.” Lesa pushed a section of tight curls out of her face. “I can’t even process this. My brain has just shut down. A first.”

  Carissa asked the one question that was probably going to be on everyone’s mind. “Did Beth come back?”

  Keeping my face blank, I shook my head. “Apparently they ran off together, but Dawson wanted to come home. She didn’t. He doesn’t know where she is.”

  Carissa stared at me while Lesa kept fiddling with her hair. “That’s…so weird.” She paused, turning her attention to her notebook. A strange look, one I couldn’t decipher, crept across her face, but then again, this was really WTF news. “Maybe she went to Nevada. Wasn’t that where she’s from? Her parents moved back there, I think.”

  “Maybe,” I murmured, wondering what the hell we were supposed to do if we did free Beth. Wasn’t like we could keep her here. Sure, she was eighteen now and legally an adult, but her family was in a different time zone.

  Warmth spread over my neck, and I looked to the front of the class. A few seconds later, Daemon strolled in. My stomach tightened, and I forced myself not to look down. If I was arguing that I was capable of handling bad things, I couldn’t hide from my boyfriend when we had a fight.

  Daemon arched a single brow as he passed by, taking his seat behind me. Before my friends could verbally attack Daemon with all their Dawson-related questions, I twisted in my seat.

  “Hey,” I said, and then I flushed, because there was nothing lamer than hey.

  He seemed to think the same thing and showed it as one side of his lip curled up into a trademark Daemon smirk. Sexy? Yes. Infuriating? Oh, yes. I wondered what he would say. Would he yell at me for talking to Dawson yesterday? Apologize? Because if he apologized, I’d probably crawl into his lap right there in class. Or would he go with the ever-faithful “talk in private” comment? While Daemon loved an audience, I knew what he showed the world wasn’t really him, and if he were going to open himself up, vulnerable to the core, he wouldn’t want people watching.

  “I like your hair like that,” he said.

  My brows rose. Okay. Not what I was expecting. Lifting my arms, I smoothed my hands down the sides of my hair. The only thing I’d done differently was part it down the middle. Nothing amazing. “Um, thanks…?”

  The smirk remained on his face as we continued to stare at each other, and as the seconds passed, the more irritated I grew. Seriously?

  “Anything else you want to say?” I asked.

  He leaned forward, sliding his elbows across the desk. Our faces were inches apart. “Is there anything you want me to say?”

  I took a deep breath. “Lots of things…”

  Thick lashes lowered, and his voice was rich as satin. “I bet.”

  He thought I was fli
rting? Then he spoke again. “There’s something I’d like you to say. How about ‘I’m sorry for Saturday’?”

  I wanted to clock him. Of all the arrogant nerve, I swear. Instead of being snarky, I shot him an annoyed look and turned around. I ignored him for the rest of class and even left without saying a word to him.

  Of course, he was two steps behind me in the hallway. My entire back tingled under his scrutiny, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was amused by all of this.

  Morning classes dragged. Bio was weird, since the seat beside me was now empty. Lesa noticed it with a frown. “I haven’t seen Blake since Christmas break ended.”

  I shrugged, studiously staring at the projector screen Matthew was pulling down. “I have no clue.”

  “You guys were like BFFs forevah, and you have no idea where he’s been?” Doubt clouded her tone.

  Her suspicions were totally understandable. Petersburg was like the Bermuda Triangle for teenagers. Many came. Some were never seen again while others resurfaced from the rabbit hole. In that moment, I found myself wanting to spill the beans like I did every so often. Keeping so many secrets was killer.

  “I don’t know. He mentioned something about visiting fam back in California. Maybe he decided to stay.” God, I was getting frighteningly good at lying. “Petersburg is kind of boring.”

  “No doubt.” She paused. “But he didn’t tell you if he was coming back or not?”

  I bit my lip. “Well, since Daemon and I are kind of seeing each other now, Blake and I haven’t really talked.”

  “Ha.” Her face transformed with a knowing grin. “Daemon seems like the RAWR type. He so wouldn’t be cool with another guy being super friendly.”

  A flush crept over my cheeks. “Ah, he’s okay with guy friends…” Just not ones who kill his friends. I rubbed my brow, sighing. “Anyway, how’s Chad?”

  “My boy toy?” She giggled. “He’s perfect.”

  I managed to keep the conversation on Chad and how close they’d come to doing it. Of course, Lesa wanted to know about Daemon and me, and I refused to go there, much to her dismay. She admitted to wanting to live vicariously through me.

  After bio, I stopped by my locker as usual and took my sweet old time changing out books. I doubted Dee wanted to see my face. The seating arrangements in the cafeteria were going to be super awkward, and I was still annoyed with Daemon. By the time I’d finished grabbing books, the hall was empty and the hum of conversation was distant.

  I closed the locker door and twisted halfway, closing the flap on the messenger bag my mom had gotten me for Christmas. Something moved at the end of the once-empty corridor, coming out of what seemed like nowhere. A tall and slender form at the end of the hall, obviously male by the quick look, and he was wearing a baseball cap, which was odd, because that was in violation of the school dress code. It was one of those God-awful trucker hats that guys found cool once upon a time.

  Drifter was written in bold black and behind the words was an oval shape…that looked a lot like a surfboard.

  My pulse spiked and I blinked, taking a step back. The guy was gone, but the door to the left was slowly swinging closed.

  No…no, it couldn’t be. He’d be crazy insane to come back here, but… Holding my bag tightly to my side, I started walking and then I was jogging before I knew it. I hit the door, throwing it open. Rushing to the railing, I peered over it. Mystery Dude was on the bottom level, as if he were waiting at the door.

  I could see the trucker hat more clearly. It was definitely a surfboard.

  Blake had been an avid surfer when he lived in California.

  Then a golden-toned hand, as if the person spent his life under the sun, wrapped around the silver doorknob, and a wave of familiarity raised the tiny hairs on my arms.

  Oh, crap.

  Part of my brain clicked off. I went down the steps three at a time, my breath locked in my chest. The hallway was more crowded on the first floor as people headed for the cafeteria. I heard Carissa call my name, but I was focused on the top of the trucker hat moving toward the gymnasium and the back entrance, leading to the parking lots.

  I darted around a couple totally getting into hallway PDA, slipped between friends talking, and lost sight of the hat for a second. Dammit. Everyone and their mother were in my way. I bumped into someone, mumbling an apology, and kept going. When I reached the end of the hall, the only place he could’ve gone was out the door. I didn’t think twice. Pushing the heavy double doors open, I stepped outside. Overcast skies turned everything dreary and cold, and as my eyes scanned the common area and, beyond that, the parking lots, I realized he was gone.

  Only two things in this world could move that fast: aliens and humans mutated by aliens.

  And I had no doubt in my mind that I’d seen Blake, and he’d wanted me to see him.

  Chapter 8

  Finding Daemon wasn’t hard at all. He was lounging against the painted mural of the school mascot in the cafeteria, talking to Billy Crump, a boy from our trig class. A carton of milk was in one hand and a slice of pizza folded in the other. What a gross-as-hell combination.

  “We need to talk,” I said, interrupting boy time.

  Daemon took a bite of his pizza while Billy glanced down at me. There must’ve been something in my stare, because his smile faded and he lifted his hands, backing up slowly.

  “Okay, well, I’ll talk to you later, Daemon.”

  He nodded, eyes trained on me. “What’s up, Kitten? Come to apologize?”

  My eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, I entertained the idea of body slamming him in the middle of the cafeteria. “Uh, no, I’m not here to apologize. You owe me an apology.”

  “How do you see that?” He took a drink, appearing naively curious.

  “Well, for starters, I’m not an ass. You are.”

  He chuckled as he glanced to the side. “That’s a good start.”

  “And I got Dawson to heel.” I smiled victoriously when his eyes narrowed. “And— Wait. This isn’t even important. God, you always do this.”

  “Do what?” His intense gaze swung back to me without a trace of anger. More like amusement and something really inappropriate, given that we were standing in the lunchroom. Dear God…

  “Distract me with the inane. And in case you don’t know what that means, it’s silly—you always distract me with something silly.”

  He finished off his pizza. “I know what inane means.”

  “Shocker,” I retorted.

  A slow, cat-got-the-canary grin pulled at his lips. “I must be really distracting you, because you still haven’t told me what you need to talk to me about.”

  Dammit. He was right. Ugh. Taking a deep breath, I focused. “I saw—”

  Daemon cupped my elbow, spun me around, and started down the aisle. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

  I tried to yank my elbow from his grasp. I really hated it when he went all He-Man on me and ordered me around. “Stop dragging me, Daemon. I can walk on my own, Doofus.”

  “Uh huh.” He led me down the hall, stopping by the gym doors. He placed his hands on either side of my head, caging me in as he leaned down. His forehead brushed mine. “Can I tell you something?”

  I nodded.

  “I find it incredibly attractive when you’re all feisty with me.” His lips brushed against my temple. “That probably makes me disturbed. But I like it.”

  Yeah, it kind of was wrong, but there was something…hot about how quickly he defended me whenever something happened.

  His nearness was tempting, especially when his breath was tantalizingly warm and so near my lips. Summoning my willpower, I placed my hands on his chest and pushed lightly. “Focus,” I said, not sure who I was talking to, me or him. “I have something more important to tell you than what disturbing things get you hot.”

  His lips quirked into a grin. “Okay, back to what you saw. I’m focused. My head’s in the game and all that.”

  I laughed
under my breath but sobered up pretty quickly. In no way was Daemon going to respond well to this. “I’m pretty sure I saw Blake today.”

  Daemon cocked his head to the side. “Say what?”

  “I think I saw Blake here, just a few minutes ago.”

  “How sure are you? Did you see him—his face?” He was all business now, eyes as sharp as a hawk’s and his face set in grim lines.

  “Yeah, I saw—” I hadn’t seen his face. Biting down on my lip, I glanced down the hall. Students piled out of the cafeteria, pushing into one another, laughing. I swallowed. “I didn’t see his face.”

  He let out a long breath. “Okay. What did you see?”

  “A hat—a trucker hat.” God, that sounded lame. “That had a surfboard on it. And I saw his hand…” And that sounded even worse.

  His brows arched up. “So, let me get this right. You saw a hat and a hand?”

  “Yeah.” I sighed, shoulders slumping.

  Daemon smoothed out his expression and placed a heavy arm around my shoulder. “Are you really sure it was him? Because if not, that’s okay. You’ve been under a lot of stress.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I remember you saying something like that to me before. You know, when you were trying to hide what you were from me. Yeah, I remember that.”

  “Now, Kitten, you know this is different.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Are you sure, Kat? I don’t want to get everyone freaking out if you’re not sure.”

  What I’d experienced was more of a feeling than a true sighting of Blake. God knew that a ton of boys around here broke the dress code with atrocities such as trucker hats. The thing was, I hadn’t seen his face and looking back, I couldn’t be 100 percent sure it had been Blake.

  I looked into Daemon’s bright gaze and felt my cheeks burn. There wasn’t judgment in his eyes. More like sympathy. He thought I was cracking under the pressure of everything. Maybe I was imagining stuff.

  “I’m not sure,” I said finally, casting my eyes down.

  And those words soured in my stomach.

  …

  Later that night, Daemon and I did babysitting duty. Although Dawson had promised not to do his own search-and-rescue mission, I knew Daemon wasn’t comfortable leaving him alone and Dee wanted to get out tonight, go to the movies or something.

 

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