OALN

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  There was a small candle covered in glass on a white table. It sent a soft flickering glow over Daemon’s high cheekbones and full lips. Ash was nowhere in sight, and honestly I didn’t care where she was.

  Daemon’s stare was so concentrated I took an unintentional step back, but we didn’t break eye contact. A craving unfurled deep in my stomach, shooting through me like heated lightning, and that—that was the kind of feeling you couldn’t force, couldn’t even replicate if you wanted.

  And then Simon was in front of me, capturing my hand and pulling me away from Dee and out onto the dance floor. It wasn’t a slow dance, but he wrapped his beefy arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest anyway. The hard edge of his flask cut into my ribs.

  “You disappeared on me,” he said, his lips brushing my ear, dousing my neck in alcohol fumes. “I thought you up and left me.”

  “No, I saw friends.” I tried pulling back, but I was stuck to him. “Where are your friends?”

  “Huh?” he yelled, unable to hear me as the music increased. “There’s a party tonight down in the Field. Everyone is going.” One of his hands was low on my back, his finger resting on the flare of my bum. “We should go.” Dammit. “I don’t know. Curfew,” I yelled back, trying to maneuver his hand off my rear.

  “So? It’s homecoming. It’s time to party.”

  I didn’t bother responding. I was too busy avoiding his hands, which were everywhere. We danced another song before I could successfully extract myself, and the only reason I could was because Carissa saved me.

  Things were all over the place then. I spied Ash sitting at the table, looking pissed while Daemon stared at the floor. Several bathroom breaks and dances later, I ended up back with Simon.

  For a human, he sure knew how to sneak up on someone.

  He didn’t reek of alcohol this time around, but dammit, his hands were super friendly as we moved in a tight circle. I could feel every last inch of him, and he didn’t seem to mind. I was starting to sweat when one of his hands dropped off my shoulder, narrowly avoiding my breast.

  I jerked back, glaring at him. “Simon.”

  “What?” He looked innocent. “Sorry. My hand slipped.”

  His hand slipped my rosy red butt. I looked away, debating what to do. I needed to disappear. Quick.

  “Mind if I cut in?” a deep voice asked from behind me.

  Simon’s blue eyes widened as I twisted around. Daemon stood there, a hard look on his face. He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were focused on Simon in challenge. As if he dared the boy to say no.

  After a terse second, Simon released me. “Perfect timing. I needed to get a drink anyway.”

  He cocked a brow at Simon and then looked at me. “Dance?”

  Having no idea what he was up to, I gingerly placed my hands on his shoulders. “This is a surprise.”

  He didn’t say anything as he wrapped one arm around my waist and reached up, taking hold of one of my hands. The music slowed down until it seemed to crawl by in a haunting melody about love lost and found again. I stared up into those extraordinary eyes, stunned that he could hold me so…tenderly. My heart thudded as blood rushed to every point in my body. It had to be the dance, the dress—the way he filled out his tux.

  He pulled me closer.

  Excitement and dread warred inside me. The dazzling lights overhead reflected in his midnight hair. “Are you having a good time with…Ash?”

  “Are you having a good time with Happy Hands?”

  I bit down on my lip. “Such a constant smartass.”

  He chuckled in my ear, sending shivers through me. “The three of us came together—Ash, Andrew, and me.” His hand rested above my hip, having a totally different impact on me. My skin tingled underneath the chiffon. Daemon cleared his throat as he glanced away. “You…you look beautiful, by the way. Really too good to be with that idiot.” A blush stole over my skin, and I lowered my gaze. “Are you high?”

  “Unfortunately, no I’m not. Though, I am curious why you would ask.”

  “You never say anything nice to me.”

  “Good point,” he sighed. Daemon moved a little closer and turned his head slightly. His jaw grazed my cheek and I jumped. “I’m not going to bite you. Or grope you. You can relax.”

  My witty retort died on my lips when he moved his hand from my hip and guided my head to his shoulder. The moment my cheek touched his tux covered shoulder, there was a dizzying rush of sensations. His hand settled on my lower back again and we moved slowly to the music. After awhile, he started humming under his breath, and I closed my eyes. This…this wasn’t nice. It was thrilling.

  “Seriously, how’s your date going?” he asked.

  I smiled. “He’s a little friendly.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He turned his head, and for a moment his chin rested against my hair, then he lifted his head. “I warned you about him.”

  “Daemon,” I said softly, wanting him not to ruin the mood. There was something peaceful about this, lulling. “I have him under control.”

  He snorted. “Sure looks like it, Kitten. His hands were moving so fast I was beginning to question if he was human or not.”

  I stiffened, my eyes opening. I counted to ten. I made it to three before he spoke again.

  “You should sneak out of here and go home while he’s distracted.” His hand tightened around mine. “I can even get Dee to morph into you if need be.”

  Shocked that he’d go to that extreme, I pulled back and looked up at him. “It’s okay if he gropes your sister? ”

  “I know she can take care of herself. You’re out of your league with that guy.”

  We’d stopped dancing, oblivious to the other couples. Disbelief coursed through me. “Excuse me? I’m out of my league?”

  “Look, I drove here. I can let Dee catch a ride with Andrew and take you home.” He sounded like he had everything planned out. Then his eyes narrowed. “Are you actually considering going to the party with that idiot?”

  “Are you going?” I asked, pulling my hand free from his. My other hand was still on his chest and his arm still circled my waist.

  “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing.” Frustration punctuated each of his words. “You’re not going to that party.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do, Daemon.”

  His eyes narrowed, but I could see the eerie glow beginning to form in his eyes, overshadowing his pupils. “Dee is taking you home. And I swear, if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, I will.” My hand curled into a useless fist against his chest. “I’d like to see you try.”

  He smiled, eyes starting to gleam in the darkness. “I bet you would.”

  “Whatever,” I said, ignoring the looks we were starting to get from everyone. Over his shoulder, I saw Mr. Garrison watching us, which worked to my benefit. “You’re the one who’s going to cause a scene carrying me out of here.” Daemon made a noise that really sounded like a growl.

  Anyone in their right mind would’ve been terrified, and I should’ve been, considering I knew what he was capable of. I wasn’t. “Because you’re local alien teacher is watching us as we speak. What do you think he’s going to believe when you toss me over your shoulder, buddy?” Every inch of him stiffened.

  I smiled like the cat that ate an entire aquarium full of fish. “Thought so.”

  Surprisingly, he returned the smile. “I keep underestimating you, Kitten.”

  Stealth-mode Simon appeared before I had a chance to gloat over that major win. “You ready?” Simon asked, glancing between Daemon and me. “Everyone is leaving for the party.”

  Damon’s look dared me to not listen to him, and that’s pretty much why I agreed. He didn’t control my life. I did.

  Chapter 23

  The Field was about two miles outside of Petersburg, heading in the opposite direction of my house. It was literally a gargantuan harvested cornfield. Enormous bales of hay covered the landscape as far as I c
ould see, lit in orange and red. I couldn’t help but think the combination of dried hay and fire wouldn’t end well.

  Someone tapped a keg.

  Correction: the combination of hay, fire, and cheap beer couldn’t end well.

  Simon had kept his hands to himself the whole way here, so I was feeling pretty good about my decision with the exception of the above foreseeable problem. He led me through the trampled cornstalks toward the fire.

  “The girls are over there.” He pointed to the other side of the fire where several girls were clustered together, sharing red plastic cups. “You should go say hi. Mingle a little.”

  I nodded, having no intention of going there.

  “I’ll get us a drink.” He leaned in, squeezing my shoulders before heading off. The moment he reached the keg, he gave some other burly dude a high five and let out a loud, “Hoo-ray!”

  Quite a crowd was gathering around the fire, pushing back to the surrounding woods. Someone had pulled a truck up, turned on the radio, and left the doors open, making it nearly impossible to hear anything. Clutching the shawl around my shoulders, I moved along the edges, looking for a familiar face. Relieved, I saw Dee standing with the Thompson triplets. Beside them, Carissa and Lesa shared a blanket. Daemon was nowhere to be seen.

  “Dee!” I called, weaving out of the way of a girl teetering in high heels. “Dee!”

  She turned, and then seconds later, she waved her hand wildly. I took a step in her direction, and Simon appeared out of nowhere, two cups in hand.

  “Oh my God,” I said, stepping back. “You scared me.”

  Simon laughed, handing me a cup. “I don’t see how. I was calling your name.”

  “Sorry.” I took the drink, wrinkling my nose at the distinct smell. Taking a sip, I learned it didn’t taste much better than it smelled. “It’s kind of hard to hear with all the noise.”

  “I know. And we haven’t had a chance to talk at all.” Simon draped his arm over my shoulder, stumbling a little. “And that sucks. I’ve wanted to talk to you all night. Did you like the corsage?”

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you again.” It was pretty, a combination of pink and red roses. “Did you get it in town?”

  He nodded and then downed the contents of his cup as we moved away from the truck. “My mom works at a local florist shop. She made it.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty cool.” I plucked at it, careful not to spill any beer on it. “Does your dad work in town?”

  “Nope, he commutes into Virginia.” He tossed the cup to the side and pulled out the flask. “He’s a lawyer,” he boasted, unscrewing the lid with one hand. “Handles personal injury claims. His brother is a doctor in town, though.”

  “My mom—she’s a nurse and works in Virginia, too.” All of his movements were pulling on the shawl. It was halfway off my shoulders. “Do you know where you’re going to college yet?” I asked, struggling for something to say. Friendly hands aside, he was sort of nice.

  “Going to WVU with the buds.” He frowned at my own untouched drink. “You don’t drink?”

  “Oh, no, I do.” I took a sip to prove it. He smiled and looked off, talking about which of his friends were planning on going to Marshall instead of WVU. When he wasn’t looking, I dumped half the cup out.

  Simon kept on asking questions, interrupted every few minutes when one of his friends would swing by. I dumped most of my drink out, which earned me several refills. Simon told me to stand wherever we were as he hustled back and forth between the keg. By my third pretend cup, Simon was probably thinking I was a lush but at least he was getting a great workout.

  Before I knew it, we were a good distance away from the bonfire, among the first cropping of trees. Each step became more difficult. Partly due to the uneven ground and my heels, and even the slightest bit of Simon’s weight was hard to support.

  Simon straightened and pulled his arm off my shoulders, taking the shawl along with him. It fluttered somewhere behind me, quickly blending in with the shadowy ground and thick undergrowth.

  “Crap,” I said, turning around, squinting.

  “What?” he slurred a little.

  “My shawl—I dropped it.” I took a couple steps back toward the fire.

  “Mmm, you look better without,” he said. “That dress—dayum.”

  I shot him an annoyed look over my shoulder before returning to staring at…everything that looked black. “Yeah, well, it belongs to my mom, and she’ll kill me if I lose it.”

  “We’ll find it. Don’t worry about it now.”

  Suddenly, his arm was around my waist, pulling me back. Startled, I dropped the cup of beer and let out a nervous laugh as I twisted out of his grasp. “I think I need to find it now.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Simon took a step closer to me, and I took one back. He was standing in front of me, and I realized I was trapped between him and a tree. “We were talking, and there’s this thing I’d wanted to do.” I glanced over at the bonfire. It seemed too far away now. “What?”

  He placed a massive hand on my shoulder, and his grip was tight. The feeling that crept over me was more than just the ick factor. It was something else. It was more powerful, leaving a strange taste on the roof of my mouth, like when the Arum had spoken to me outside the library. He leaned in, pulling me forward at the same time, dipping his head.

  I froze for a second, and that was all it took. His mouth was on mine, tasting of beer and breath mints. He made a sound and pushed forward. My back was against a tree before I could shove him back, and he still kept pushing forward, kissing my tightly sealed lips. I couldn’t breathe. Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed until I was able to wrench my mouth free.

  “Whoa there, Simon, that’s too much,” I said, dragging in air. I tried to wiggle myself free, but he was unmovable.

  “Aw come on, it’s not too much.” His hand worked its way between me and the tree, until it was against my back, holding me in place.

  I pushed again against his chest, angry. “I didn’t come here for this!”

  Simon laughed. “Everyone comes here for this. Look, we’re both drinking, both having fun. There’s nothing wrong with that. I won’t even tell anyone if you don’t want me to. Everybody knows you did it with Daemon over the summer.”

  “What?” I screeched. “Simon, let me—”

  His sloppy, wet lips cut off my words. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I wanted to puke. My heart rate tripled, and in an instant, I wished I’d listened to Daemon, that I had taken him up on his offer to go home, because this was out of my league.

  I managed to get my head free. “Simon, stop!”

  And then Simon did stop. I sagged against the tree, dazed and breathless. There was the sound of someone hitting the ground and then a wounded cry.

  Someone was bending over a sprawled Simon, reaching down and picking him up by the scruff of his neck. “Do you have a problem understanding simple English?”

  I recognized that deep baritone. It was the same voice Daemon had used the day I’d been gardening. Deadly quiet, dangerously low. He was breathing heavily as he stared at the cowering boy.

  “Man, I’m sorry,” Simon slurred, grasping Daemon’s wrist. “I thought she—”

  “You thought what?” Daemon lifted him onto his feet. “That no meant yes?”

  “No! Yes! I thought—”

  Daemon raised his hand, and Simon just…just stopped. Arms raised, hands splayed out in midair in front of his face. Blood that had been trickling out of his nose, stopped on his open mouth. Eyes wide and unblinking. A look of fear and drunken confusion was frozen on his face.

  Daemon had frozen Simon. Literally.

  I stepped forward. “Daemon, what…what did you do?”

  He didn’t look at me, his eyes trained on Simon. “It was either this or I’d kill him.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of killing him. I poked Simon’s arm. It felt real, but stiff. Like a corpse. I swallowed. “Is he alive?�
�

  “Should he be?” he asked.

  A look passed between us, heavy with understanding and regret.

  Daemon’s jaw tensed. “He’s fine. Right now, it’s like he’s sleeping.”

  Simon looked like a statue, a drunk and pervy statue. “God, what a mess.” I backed up, wrapping my arms around myself. “How long will he stay like this?”

  “As long as I want,” he replied. “I could leave him out here. Let the deer piss on him and the crows crap on him.”

  “You can’t…do that, you know that? Right?”

  Daemon shrugged.

  “You need to turn him back, but first, I’d like to do something.”

  Daemon cocked a brow in curiosity.

  Dragging in a deep breath, which still tasted like cheap beer, mints, and Simon’s tongue, I kicked him straight between the legs. Simon didn’t react, but he’d feel it later.

  “Whoa.” Daemon let out a strangled half laugh. “Maybe I should’ve killed him.” He frowned when he saw the expression on my face. He turned back to Simon and waved his hand.

  The boy doubled over, cupping his hands between his legs. “Shit.”

  Daemon pushed Simon back. “Get the fuck out of my face, and I swear if you so much as look at her again, it will be the last thing you do.”

  Simon was three shades whiter as he wiped his hand over his bloodied nose. His eyes darted from me to Daemon. “Katy, I’m sorry—”

  “Get. Out. Of. Here,” Daemon bit out, taking a threatening step forward.

  Simon spun around and took off, stumbling and limping over bushes. Dead silence fell between us. Even the music seemed to have become muted. Daemon turned around slowly and stalked off. I stood there, shivering.

  Daemon was going to leave me here.

  I didn’t blame him. He warned me several times, and I hadn’t listened. Tears of anger and frustration burned my eyes.

  But then he returned, clutching my shawl in his hands. He handed it to me, cursing under his breath. Hands shaking, I took the shawl from him and saw that his eyes were glowing. How long had they been like that? I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and intense.