Home > Opal (Lux #3)(10)

Opal (Lux #3)(10)
Author: J. Lynn

“Is that so?” Andrew cocked an eyebrow. “I think he’s said three coherent sentences a day and that’s about it.”

My hands curled into fists against my sides. A soft breeze picked up my hair, stirring the strands around my shoulders. I so wanted to hit him. “He’s been going through God knows what. Have some compassion, ass. Anyway, I don’t know why I’m talking to you. Where’s Dee?”

The smirk faded from his face, replaced by cold, hard hatred. “Dee is here.”

I waited for a little more detail. “Yeah, I figured that much.” When there was still no response, I was two seconds from showing him what a little human-alien-hybrid baby could do. “Why are you here?”

“Because I was invited.” He leaned down, close enough to kiss, and I had no other option but to take a step back. He followed. “And you’re not.”

Ouch. Okay, that stung. Before I knew it, my back hit the railing and I was trapped. There was nowhere for me to go, and Andrew wasn’t budging. I felt the Source, the pure energy that the Luxen—and now I—could harness building inside me, spreading over my skin like static electricity.

I could make Andrew move.

Andrew must’ve seen something in my eyes because he sneered. “Don’t even think about pulling that crap with me, because you push? I’ll push right back. There won’t be any lost sleep over it.”

Fighting my body’s response to lay it on him was the hardest thing. My human side and the other side, whatever it was, wanted to tap into that power and use it—exploit it. It was like an unused muscle flexing. I remembered the dizzying rush of power, and the release.

A part of me, a teeny, tiny part of me liked it, and that scared the crap out of me.

Good for Andrew, because the fear coiling tightly inside had knocked the wind right out from underneath me. “Why do you hate me?” I asked.

Andrew cocked his head to the side. “It’s the same thing as it was with Beth. Everything was fine, and then she came around. We lost Dawson and you know damn well we haven’t gotten him back, not really. And now it’s happening with Daemon, except this time around, we lost Adam in the mess. He’s gone.”

For the first time, something other than arrogant disdain peered through his crystalized eyes. Pain—the kind of suffering I was well familiar with. The same shattered, hopeless look I’d worn after my dad passed away from cancer.

“He’s not going to be the only one we lose,” Andrew continued, voice hoarse. “You know that, but do you care? No. Humans are ultimately the most selfish life-form there is. And don’t try to pretend you’re any better. If you were, you would’ve stayed away from Dee in the beginning. You would’ve never gotten attacked, and Daemon would’ve never had to heal you. None of this would’ve happened. It’s your fault. It’s on your head.”

Yeah, the rest of my day sort of sucked. I was worried about what Dawson had done that required Daemon to chase after him all day and feared the DOD was waiting to bring us all in. On top of that, I was freaking out over whatever Will had up his sleeve, and after that conversation with Andrew, I felt like I needed to crawl under my blankets.

And I did for about an hour. My self-pity always had a time limit because I usually got annoyed with myself.

Pulling my head out of my rear, I cracked open my laptop and started doing some reviews. Since I’d been snowed in and Daemon had mostly been busy with Dawson, I’d gotten four books read. Not my all-time high score, but pretty good considering I’d been slacking like a mofo on the reviews.

It always felt good typing up a review on a book I enjoyed and I went all out, finding bizarre pictures to emphasize the wow factor. I preferred ones with cute kittens and llamas. And Dean Winchester. Hitting ‘publish post’ cracked a smile.

One down, three more to go.

I spent the rest of the day spewing out reviews and then stalking a few of my favorite bloggers. One of them had a header on their blog I’d do terrible things for. I was never that good at web design, which explained my less than stellar background.

After a quick run to the grocery store with Mom and dinner, I was about to start a manhunt for Daemon when I felt a warm tingle along the back of my neck.

I shot from the kitchen, nearly barreling through a startled Mom. I whipped open the door an instant after Daemon knocked and then threw myself—literally—into his not-so-waiting arms.

Unprepared for my attack, he stumbled back a step. But then he laughed deeply against the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me. I held on, squeezing the hell out of his shoulders, and we were so tightly pressed against each other that I could feel his heart picking up as fast as mine.

“Kitten,” he murmured. “You know how much I like it when you say hi this way.”

Head buried in the space between his neck and shoulder, which smelled like spice and male, I murmured something unintelligible.

Daemon lifted me clear off my feet. “You’ve been worried, haven’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Then I remembered how much I’d been worried all freaking day. I broke free and smacked his chest. Very, very hard.

“Ouch!” He grinned, though, as he rubbed his chest. “What was that for?”

I folded my arms and tried to keep my voice low. “Have you heard of a cell phone?”

He arched his brow. “Why, yes, it’s this small thing that has all these cool apps on it—”

“Then why didn’t you have it on you today?” I interrupted.

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