“Yes.”
“With homemade gravy?” I inquired, starting back down the steps.
Daemon’s laugh was husky. “The best gravy around.”
“Perfect. I want that.”
He promised to bring me home a hungry man’s portion and then hung up. I went into the living room first and dropped my cell on the coffee table. Then I swiped up one of the books I’d gotten this past week for review and headed to the kitchen for something to drink.
Flipping over the book, I read the blurb and had to slow down because I almost walked into a wall. Laughing at myself, I stepped through the doorway and looked up.
Will sat at the kitchen table.
Chapter 32
The book slipped from my lifeless fingers, falling to the floor. The smack reverberated inside me, all around me. I sucked in a breath but it got stuck around my heart pounding off my ribs.
My eyes had to be deceiving me. He couldn’t be here. And he couldn’t look the way he did. It was Will… It was but it wasn’t. Something was dreadfully wrong with the man.
Will sat hunched over the table with his back to the fridge. The last time I’d seen him, his dark brown hair had been thick and wavy, with a hint of gray at the temples. Patches of his skull shone under a thin layer of mousy hair now.
Will… Will had been a handsome man, but this man who sat before me had aged dramatically. His skin was sallow and drawn tight across his face. No fat or form whatsoever, and he reminded me of the skeleton decorations used to scare children at Halloween. Some sort of rash affected his forehead, looking like a blotch of raspberries. His lips were incredibly thin, as were his arms and his shoulders.
Only his eyes were what I remembered. Pale blue, full of strength and determination, they fixed on mine. Something else sharpened them. Resolve? Hatred? I wasn’t sure, but what shone deep in them was more frightening than staring down a horde of Arum.
Will let out a dry, painful-sounding laugh. “I’m a sight for sore eyes, aren’t I?”
I didn’t know what to do or say. As scary as hell as it was that he was here, he was in no shape to do a thing to me. That gave me a little confidence.
He sat back against the chair; the movement looked like it hurt and winded him.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
Will stared back a long moment before sliding a hand over the table. “You’re smarter than that, Katy. It’s obvious. The mutation didn’t hold.”
That I got, but it didn’t explain why he looked like the crypt keeper.
“I did plan on coming back here after a few weeks. I knew the sickness would be rough—I knew I needed time to get control of it. Then I’d come and we’d be one big, happy family.”
I choked. “There would be no way I’d let that happen.”
“Your mother wanted that.”
My hands curled into fists.
“It seemed to hold at first.” A cough racked his frail body and I almost expected him to topple over. “Weeks went by and the things I could do…” A weak, brittle smile split his dry lips. “Moving objects with a wave of my hand, running miles without breaking a sweat…I felt better than I ever had. Everything had fallen into place just like I planned, just like I paid for.”
My horrified gaze flickered over his sunken chest. “Then what happened to you?”
His left arm twitched. “The mutation didn’t hold, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t change me on a cellular level. Something I’d wanted to prevent ended up being…propelled by the mutation. My cancer,” he said, lip curling. “My cancer was in remission. The statistics of a complete recovery were high, but when the mutation faded, this…” He waved a weak hand around himself. “This happened.”
I blinked, stunned. “Your cancer came back?”
“With a vengeance,” he said, laughing that terrible, fragile laugh. “There’s nothing that can be done. My blood is like a toxin. My organs are failing at an abnormal rate. Apparently, the whole theory of cancer being linked to DNA may have some basis to it.”
Each word he spoke seemed to exhaust him and there was no doubt he was one step, maybe two, away from death. Reluctant sympathy flooded me. How crappy was it that everything he’d done to secure his health had ultimately led to his death?
I shook my head. Irony was such a witch. “If you had just left everything alone, you’d be fine.”
His eyes met mine. “You want to rub that in?”
“No.” And I really didn’t. If anything, I was sickened by this. “It’s just sad, really sad.”
He stiffened. “I don’t want your pity.”
Okay. I crossed my arms. “Then what do you want?”
“I want revenge.”
My brows shot up. “For what? You brought this on yourself.”
“I did everything right!” He slammed his fist down on the table, rattling it and surprising me. Well, he was stronger than he looked. “I did everything right. It was him—Daemon. He didn’t do what he was supposed to.”
“He healed you like you wanted.”
“Yes! He healed me! And that gave me a temporary mutation.” Another fit of coughing stole his words. “He…he didn’t mutate me. What he did…was he gave himself what he wanted and enough time for him to think he got away with it.”
I stared at him. “The whole healing and mutation thing isn’t an exact science.”
“You’re correct. The DOD has dedicated entire organizations to discovering how a successful hybrid is created.” No big announcement there. “But Daemon is the strongest. There was no reason why it wouldn’t have held.”