Onyx (A Lux Novel)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  Didn’t I, though? Trusting Blake took a leap of faith, but he had plenty of opportunity to turn Daemon and me over and he hadn’t. I wrapped my arms around my waist against the cold. “What you’re doing by helping me is pretty amazing. I just wanted to say that.”

  Blake’s grin grew into a smile that caused his hazel eyes to dance. “Well, it does mean I get to spend more time with you.” The tips of his cheeks flushed, and he looked away, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

  I nodded. Blake gave me a weird sort of smile and then left. Feeling all kinds of whacked out, I went back in.

  Daemon wasn’t on the couch, of course. Going on instinct, I shuffled into the kitchen. He was there. Bread, lunch meat, and mayo were spread out on the counter.

  “What are you doing?”

  He waved a knife around. “You said you were hungry.”

  My heart did a back handspring. “You…didn’t have to make me anything, but thank you.”

  “I was also hungry.” Daemon plopped mayo on the bread, spreading it out evenly. He made two ham and cheese sandwiches quickly. Turning, he handed me mine as he leaned against the counter. “Eat.”

  I stared at him.

  He smiled and then took a huge bite of his. Chewing slowly, he watched me eat, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. After he went round two with the ham and cheese, which really was just cheese and mayo, I cleaned up. I finished washing my hands and turned off the faucet when Daemon placed his hands on either side of my hips, his fingers curving over the counter. Heat rolled up and down my back, and I didn’t dare move. He was way, way too close.

  “So, you had a very interesting conversation with Butler on the porch.” His breath danced over my neck.

  I fought the shiver and failed. “His name is Blake and were you eavesdropping, Daemon?”

  “I was keeping an eye on things.” The tip of his nose brushed the side of my neck and my fingers spasmed against the stainless steel sink. “So, his helping you is amazing?”

  Closing my eyes, I cursed under my breath. “He’s putting himself at risk, Daemon. Whether you like him or not, you have to give him props for that.”

  “I don’t have to give him anything other than the ass-kicking he deserves.” He rested his chin on my shoulder. “I don’t want you doing this.”

  “Daemon—”

  “And it has nothing to do with my raging dislike of the boy.” His hands left the counter and found my hips. “Or the fact that—”

  “That you’re jealous?” I said, turning my cheek so that it was daringly close to his lips.

  “Me? Jealous of him? No. What I was going to say was, or the fact that he has a stupid name. Blake? It rhymes with flake. Come on.”

  I rolled my eyes, but then he straightened and tugged me against him. With my back flush against his front, he wrapped his arms around my waist. Dizzying warmth zinged through my veins. Why, oh why, did he always have to be so damn close?

  “Kitten, I don’t trust him. Everything about him is too convenient.”

  To me, Daemon’s reasons for not trusting him were too obvious. I wiggled free, managing to get myself turned around so I faced him. His hands fell back to the sink. “I don’t want to talk about Blake.”

  One dark brow arched. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Last night.”

  He stared at me a moment, then backed off. Retreated all the way to the other side of the kitchen table as if he were suddenly afraid of me. I folded my arms. “Actually, I wanted to finish the conversation we were having before Blake came over.”

  “Which is about last night.”

  “Yeah,” I said slowly, dragging out the word.

  Daemon scratched the five o’clock shadow on his chin. “I don’t even know what I was going to say to you.”

  My brows flew up. What a disappointment.

  “Look, last night I was mad. I was also a little caught off guard with…with everything.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Anyway, that’s not important. This thing with Bart is.”

  I opened my mouth, but he went on. “Part of me just wants to snatch him up and get rid of him. It would be easy.” My mouth hit the floor this time, and his smile was cold. “I’m being serious, Kitten. He’s not just a danger to you, but if he’s playing us, he’s a danger to Dee. So I want her kept as far away from this as possible.”

  “Of course,” I murmured. There was no way I’d involve her.

  His muscled arms folded, and he became all business. “And going along with everything will keep tabs on him. So, you were right last night about that.”

  This wasn’t the part of last night’s conversation I wanted to talk about. After seeing how affected he was when he’d thought I’d gone out on a date with Blake—even though he seemed to have gotten over that pretty quickly—and spending all day feeling heartsick and shattered, I wanted to talk to him about us. About what I’d realized as I moped around the house all day.

  “I don’t like this, but…” He paused. “But I’ll ask you one more time to not do this with him. Trust that I can find something out that can help you—help us.”

  I wanted to tell him yes, but how was Daemon going to ask anyone without arousing suspicion? If the DOD was everywhere, who could say there weren’t Luxen working for them? Anything was possible.

  Since I didn’t answer right away, he seemed to know what my decision was, because he made this laugh/inhale sound and nodded. A splinter pierced my heart.

  “Okay. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day. More Butler. Yay.”

  And then he walked out. Actually walked out of the kitchen instead of doing that super-fast thing he usually did. And I stood there, wondering what the hell just went down and why I never stopped him and told him what I was thinking.

  What I was feeling.

  Courage—I really needed to find the courage to tell him how I felt tomorrow, before things went further south between us.

  Chapter 20

  Days and then weeks went by. Each morning started the same as the one before. I’d wake up dizzy, feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Every day the dark smudges under my eyes grew more prominent.

  I didn’t speak to my mom most mornings, which blew, because that was the only time we really got to see each other. She was busy with work and Will, and I was busy with school; Blake; and a distant, closed-off Daemon. Who spent most of the practices watching Blake like a hawk does when searching for prey.

  A frosty air had developed between Daemon and me, and no matter how many times I tried to start up a conversation about our relationship, he was quick to shut me down. My heart ached.

  Even though he didn’t stop the training sessions and rarely missed them, he was still dead set against them. Most of our time alone consisted of him trying to convince me that Blake was no good. That there was something inherently wrong with the boy, other than the fact he was a hybrid. Like me.

  But as the weeks passed and the DOD didn’t storm the house for me, I chalked it up to Daemon’s rightful paranoia. He had reason not to trust the guy. Given what happened with Dawson and Bethany, he was leery of all humans.

  And Blake did his best to handle Daemon. I had to give it to him. Not many people would keep coming back, especially considering I sucked butt at the whole ability thing and Daemon made him feel less than welcome. Blake was patient and supportive, while Daemon was the pissy pink elephant in the room with the bad attitude.

  All the training after school affected any and all social life. Everyone knew that Blake and I were hanging out. No one, not even Dee, realized that Daemon was there, too. Since she was spending all of her time over at Adam’s, she didn’t know where Daemon was or what he was doing. So Carissa and Lesa believed that Blake and I were dating, and I’d given up on trying to convince them otherwise. And it blew, because they thought I was so wrapped up in him that nothing else mattered. Without even doing it,
I’d turned into one of those girls whose life ceases to exist outside of her boyfriend.

  And I didn’t even have a boyfriend.

  Their detailed attempts to draw me back into their world were incessant, but each time Dee wanted to take a shopping trip or Lesa wanted to grab something to eat after school, I had to turn them down.

  My evenings were all about training. There was no time for reading. No time for my blog. Those things I once spent all my free time doing were now pushed to the side.

  I always asked Blake the same question before we got started. “Have you seen any Arum?”

  The answer was always the same. “No.”

  And then Daemon would show up and things usually got crazy at some point. Blake would try to teach me while ignoring the homicidal alien taking up way too much room.

  “Technically, whenever we use our abilities, we are sending a piece of ourselves,” he explained. “Like if I want to pick something up, a part of me is doing that as an extension of me. It’s why using our powers weakens us.”

  That really made no sense to me, but I nodded. Daemon rolled his eyes.

  Blake laughed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”

  “Nope.” I smiled.

  “All right, back to the arms, then.” His fingers slipped over the curve of my shoulders, and the crazy began.

  Daemon was up and off the couch in a nanosecond, forcing Blake to back away. I took a deep, patient breath and faced the alien.

  He glared Blake into submission. “I think I can help her with this.”

  Sitting on the arm of the couch, Blake waved his hand. “Sure. Whatever. She’s all yours.”

  Daemon grinned. “That she is.”

  My hand was itching to connect with his face. “I am not yours.” A small part of me wanted him to deny my words, though.

  “Shush it,” he said, walking up to me.

  “How about I shush it right up your—”

  “Kitten, your language is so unladylike.” He stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Admittedly, the static charge from his touch was much more powerful…and tempting. He leaned in, his cheek against my hair. “Ben over there is on to something. Whenever we use our ability—tap into the Source—we are sending a part of us to do it. It’s like an extension of our physical form.”

  Daemon was making just as much sense as Blake, but I went along with it.

  “Picture having hundreds of arms.”

  I did as he instructed. In my head, I imagined I looked like that Hindu goddess. I giggled.

  “Katy.” Blake sighed.

  “Sorry.”

  “Now take those arms and make them transparent in your mind.” Daemon paused. “You can see those arms; see the books all over the living room. Can you? I know you know where each and every one is placed.”

  Knowing that if I spoke, I’d break my concentration, I nodded.

  “Okay. Good.” His fingers tightened. “Now I want you to turn those arms into light. An intense, bright light.”

  “Like…your light?”

  “Yes.”

  I took another breath and pictured my Hindu arms as long, slender ribbons of light. Yeah, I looked ridiculous.

  “Do you see it?” he asked softly. “And do you believe it?”

  Pausing before I answered, I worked really hard to believe what I was seeing. The arms of blinding white light were mine. Like Daemon and Blake had said, they were extensions of my being. I imagined each of those hands picking up the books scattered about.

  “Open your eyes,” Blake instructed.

  When I did, books floated around the room. I moved them to the coffee table, stacking them in alphabetic order without laying a finger on them. A heady thrill went through me. Finally! Ecstatic, I almost started jumping and squealing.

  Daemon let go, his smile an odd mixture of pride and something much more. It tugged at my heart. So much so that I had to look away, and my gaze collided with Blake’s.

  He grinned at me, and I grinned back. “I actually did something.”

  “You did.” He stood. “And it was pretty damn good. Nice work.”

  I turned to say something to Daemon, but there was a rush of warm air and I realized the spot where Daemon had stood was empty. A door opened and then closed.

  Surprised, I turned to Blake. “I…”

  “He sure can move fast,” he said, shaking his head. “I can move fast, but damn. Not as fast as him.”

  I nodded, blinking back hot tears. The one time I actually did something right, Daemon bailed. How freaking typical.

  “Katy,” Blake said softly, wrapping his hand around my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled free, dragging in deep breaths.

  He followed me into the living room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I choked out a laugh, embarrassed. “No.”

  Blake was silent for several moments. “It’s probably better this way.”

  “It is?” I folded my arms, willing my tears to go away. Crying fixed nothing.

  He nodded. “From what I’ve gathered, relationships between the Luxen and humans don’t work out. And before you tell me there’s nothing between you two, I know better. I can see the way you look at each other. But it’s not going to work out.”

  If this was supposed to be a motivational speech, it was so not working. Blake picked up the first book, smoothing his hands over the glossy purple cover. “It’s better if you cut ties. Or he does, before someone gets hurt.”

  My stomach hollowed. “Hurt?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Look at it this way. If he thought the DOD was onto you, what do you think he’d do? Risk his life, right? And if the DOD does find out you’ve been mutated, they’re going to want to know who did it. Their first guess is going to be him.”

  I started to tell Blake that it wasn’t Daemon, but that would just sound suspicious, and damn if he didn’t have a point. Daemon was the obvious suspect. I sat down, rubbing the heel of my hand over my forehead. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said finally.

  Blake sat beside me. “Do we ever? But what we want rarely changes the outcome, Katy.”

  …

  In trig the following day, Daemon tapped his pen off my back. “I’m not going to be at your training today,” he said in a low voice.

  Disappointment swelled inside me. Even though Daemon usually wasn’t the most helpful person during these sessions, I truly believed the reason I’d been able to move the books was because of him.

  And yeah, I also looked forward to seeing him. Sigh.

  I forced a shrug, playing it cool. “Okay.”

  His emerald-colored eyes met mine for a brief moment and then he sat back, scribbling along his notebook. Feeling as if I’d been dismissed, I faced the front of the class and exhaled slowly.

  Carissa tossed a folded-up note on my desk. Curious, I spread it open.

  Why the :( face?

  Gosh, was I that obvious? I scribbled a quick message:

  Just tired. heart your new glasses.

  And I did. They were a rocking zebra print. I managed to toss the note back to her. We weren’t worried about our teacher—it was doubtful he could see all the way to the back of the classroom. The guy made Santa look young.

  A few seconds later, the note was back on my desk. I grinned as I unfolded it.

  Thank you. Lesa wants me to tell you: “Daemon looks hot today.” I have to agree.

  I laughed under my breath and wrote back,

  Daemon always looks hot!!!

  Stretching into the aisle, I went to drop the note back on Carissa’s desk. Before it could leave my fingertips, it was snatched from my hand. Son of a donkey butt! My mouth dropped open and my cheeks burned. Twisting around in my seat, I glared at Daemon.

  He held the note close to his chest and grinned. “Passing notes is bad,” he murmured.

  “Give it back,” I hissed.

  Shaking his head, he unfolded the note much to
my—and I’m sure, to Lesa’s and Carissa’s—horror. I wanted to die as I watched those vibrant eyes quickly scan the note. I knew when he got to my part, because his dark brows shot up his forehead.

  He grinned, used his mouth to pop off the cap on his pen, and wrote something on the page. Groaning, I glanced at Lesa and Carissa. Lesa’s mouth was hanging open and Carissa’s cheeks matched mine. God, he was taking enough time.

  Daemon finally folded the note and handed it back. “There you go, Kitten.”

  “I hate you.” I snapped around—just in time, because the teach was scanning the classroom. When he went back to the chalkboard, I handled the note like it was a bomb. Slowly and carefully, I unfolded the damn thing.

  And I died a little more.

  That note would never, ever see the light of day again. I refolded the paper and shoved it in my bookbag, my movements stiff and my entire body enflamed.

  Daemon chuckled.

  …

  For several days, Blake and I worked alone. Unsurprisingly, things were a lot smoother without Daemon’s threatening presence. With Blake’s coaching, I went from being able to move small objects for short periods of time to rearranging the entire living room with a single thought. Each time I was successful, Blake got all kinds of happy, and I tried to join in the revelry—because this was good—but there was always an edge of disappointment riding each accomplishment.

  I wanted to share my successes with Daemon, and he wasn’t there.

  Blake eventually moved on to harder stuff, attempting to teach me how to control the more powerful things through a horrible series of trial-and-error experiments. The first time I’d attempted to control fire ended up with what I swore were second-degree burns on my fingers.

  He’d presented me with a series of white candles and my goal was to light all of them at once through concentration. I was allowed to touch each of them, and after several hours of staring at them with a seriously empty stomach, I’d managed to light one by picturing the flame in my mind and holding the image.