Opal

Chapter 33

I don’t remember falling, but I was staring at the ceiling, trying to keep my hands pressed to the gunshot wound, because I’d seen people do that on TV, but I couldn’t feel my hands, so I wasn’t sure if they were there or by my sides.

My face was wet.

I was going to die in minutes, maybe sooner, and I’d failed Daemon and my mom. Failed them, because Daemon would die, too, and my mom—oh, God, my mom would come home to find this. She wouldn’t survive this, not after Dad.

A shudder rolled through my body and my chest labored for breath. I didn’t want to die alone on the cold, hard floor. I didn’t want to die at all. I blinked and when I reopened my eyes, the ceiling was fuzzy.

Nothing really hurt, though. Books got that right. There was a point where there was so much pain I couldn’t process it or I was beyond it. Probably beyond it…

The front door opened and a familiar voice called out, “Katy? Where are you? Something’s wrong with Daemon…”

My lips worked, but there was no sound. I tried again. “Dee?”

Footsteps crept closer and then, “Oh my God…oh my God.”

Dee was suddenly in my line of sight, her face fuzzy around the edges. “Katy—holy crap, Katy…hold on.” She moved my bloodstained hands away and placed hers over the wound as she looked up, seeing Will crumpled beside the fridge. “God…”

I worked to get out one word. “Daemon…”

She blinked rapidly, her form fading out for a second and then her face was in front of mine, her eyes glowing like diamonds, and I couldn’t look away. Her eyes, her words, consumed me. “Andrew is bringing him over. He’s okay. He’s going to be okay, because you’re going to be okay. Got that?”

I coughed out a response and something wet and warm covered my lips. It had to be bad—blood—because Dee’s face paled even more as she placed both of her hands over the wound and closed her eyes.

My lids seemed way too heavy and the sudden warmth radiating from hers ebbed and flowed through me. Her shape faded out and she was in her true form—bright and lustrous like an angel—and I thought if I were to die, then at least I saw something as beautiful as this before the end.

But I had to hang on, because it wasn’t just my life that hung in the balance. It was Daemon’s. So I forced my eyes open, kept them trained on Dee, watching as her light flickered over the walls, bathing the room. If she healed me, would we be linked? The three of us? I couldn’t wrap my head around that. And it wouldn’t be fair to Dee.

And then there were voices. I recognized Andrew’s and Dawson’s. There was a thud beside my head and then he was there, his beautiful face pale and strained. I’d never seen him so pale, and if I concentrated, I could feel his heart laboring like mine. His hands were shaking as they touched my cheeks, smooth under my parted lips.

“Daemon…”

“Shh,” he said, smiling. “Don’t talk. It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

He turned to his sister, gently pulling her stained hands back. “You can stop now.”

She must’ve responded directly to him, because Daemon shook his hand. “We can’t risk you doing this. You have to stop.”

Someone, it sounded like Andrew, said, “Man, you’re too weak to do this.” And then I realized it was him, and he was on my other side. I think he held my hand. I may’ve been hallucinating, though, because I saw two Daemons.

Wait. The second one was Dawson. He was holding Daemon, keeping him in an upright position. Daemon never needed help. He was the strongest—is the strongest. Panic blossomed.

“Let Dee do this,” Andrew urged.

Daemon shook his head and after what seemed like forever, Dee pulled back and took on her human form. She scrambled out of the way, arms shaking.

“He’s crazy,” she said. “He’s absolutely crazy.”

When Daemon slipped into his true form and placed his hands on me, there was only him then. The rest of the room slipped away. I didn’t want him to heal me if he was already weak, but I got why he didn’t want Dee to do it. Too risky, not knowing how or if it would link the three of us together.

Heat flowed through me and then I wasn’t really thinking. Daemon’s voice was in my thoughts, murmuring reassurances over and over again. I felt light, airy, and complete.

Daemon… I said his name over and over again. I don’t know why, but it was grounding to just hear his name.

And when I closed my eyes, they didn’t reopen. The renewing warmth was in every cell, easing through my veins, settling into my muscles and bones. Heat and safety pulled me under and the last thing I heard was Daemon’s voice.

You can let go now.

I did.

…

When I opened my eyes again, a candle somewhere in the room flickered and danced in the shadows. I couldn’t move my arms and I didn’t know where I was for a second, but as I dragged in a deep breath, an earthy scent surrounded me.

“Daemon?” My voice was hoarse, dry from panic.

The bed—I was in a bed—dipped and out of the darkness came Daemon. Half of his face was bathed in shadows. His eyes glowed like diamonds.

“I’m here,” he said. “Right beside you.”

I swallowed, keeping my gaze fixed on him. “I can’t move my arms.”

There was a deep, throaty chuckle and I thought it was terrible that he would laugh when my arms couldn’t move. “Here, let me fix that for you.”

Daemon’s hands felt around me, finding the edges of the blankets. He loosened them. “There you go.”

“Oh.” I wiggled my fingers and then slipped my arms out. A second later, I realized I was nude—completely nude under the blankets. Fire swept over my face and down my neck. Did we…? What the heck was I not remembering?

I clasped the edge of the blanket, wincing as skin pulled over my chest. “Why am I naked?”

Daemon stared back at me. One second passed and then two, three. “You don’t remember?”

It took a moment or so for my brain to process everything and when it did, I sat up and started to jerk the blanket away. Daemon stopped me with his hand. “You’re fine. There’s just a tiny mark—a scar, but it’s really faint,” he said, his large hand surrounding mine. “Honestly, I doubt anyone would notice it unless they were looking really close, and I’d be perturbed if anyone was looking that close.”

My mouth worked without sound. Around us, the candle threw shadows along the wall. It was Daemon’s bedroom, because my bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable or as big as his.

Will had come back. He had shot me—shot me right in the chest and I…I couldn’t finish that thought.

“Dee helped get you cleaned up. So did Ash.” His eyes searched my face. “They put you in the bed. I didn’t…help them.”

Ash saw me naked? Stupidly, out of everything, that made me want to crawl back under the covers. Man, I needed to get my priorities straight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He reached to touch me but stopped, his hand lingering an inch or so from my cheek.

I nodded. I’d been shot—shot in the chest. That thought was on repeat. I’d come close to death once before, when we’d fought Baruck, but to be shot was a whole different ballpark. It was going to take me a few moments to fully comprehend that, especially since it didn’t seem real.

“I shouldn’t be sitting up and talking to you,” I said dumbly, peering through my lashes. “This is…”

“I know. It’s a lot.” He touched me then, placing the tips of his fingers on my lips reverently. He let out a shaky breath. “It’s really a lot.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the low hum and warmth his touch brought. “How did you know?”

“I felt short of breath all of a sudden,” he said, dropping his hand and inching closer. “And there was this red-hot feeling in my chest. My muscles wouldn’t work right. I knew something had happened. Luckily, Andrew and Dawson were able to get me outside without causing a scene. Sorry, no chicken fried steak.”

I didn’t think I’d ever eat again.

A smile appeared on his lips. “I’d never been so scared in my life. I had Dawson call Dee to check on you. I…was too weak to get here myself.”

I recalled how pale he’d looked and that Dawson had been supporting him. “How do you feel now?”

“Perfect.” He tilted his head to the side. “You?”

“I feel fine.” Only a dull soreness lingered, but it was nothing. “You saved my life—our lives.”

“It was nothing.”

I gaped. Only Daemon would think something like this was nothing. And then another new concern rose. Twisting on the bed, I searched out the bedside clock in the dark. Digital green lights showed that it was only a little past one in the morning. I’d slept for about six hours.

“I have to go home,” I said, gathering the blanket around me. “There has to be blood and when my mom comes home in the morning, I don’t—”

“It’s all been taken care of.” He stilled me. “They took care of Will and the house is fine. When your mom comes home, she won’t know anything happened.”

Relief was potent and I relaxed, but it didn’t last long. An image surfaced of standing in the kitchen, smiling at Will and goading him, sending a shudder through me. Silence fell between us as I stared into the darkened room, replaying the evening over and over. I kept getting caught on how calm I had become, how cold I’d felt when that part of me decided I was going to have to…have to kill Will.

And I had.

A bitter taste filled the back of my throat. I had killed people and that was even counting the Arum. A life was a life, Daemon had said. So how many had I killed? Three? So I’d killed four living creatures.

My breath rose and got stuck around the quickly rising lump in my throat. What was worse than the knowledge that I had taken lives was my acceptance of doing so. I’d had no qualms about what I did when it happened and that wasn’t me—that couldn’t be me.

“Kat,” he said softly. “Kitten, what are you thinking?”

“I killed him.” Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. “I killed him, and I didn’t care at all.”

He placed his hands on my bare shoulders. “You did what you had to do, Kat.”

“No. You don’t understand.” My throat tightened and I struggled for breath. “I didn’t care. And I should care about these kinds of things.” I laughed hoarsely. “Oh, God…”

Pain flickered in his bright gaze. “Kat—”

“What’s wrong with me? Something is wrong with me. I could’ve just disarmed him and stopped him. I didn’t have to—”

“Kat, he tried to kill you. He shot you. You acted out of self-defense.”

It all sounded reasonable to him. But had I? The man was weak and frail. Instead of goading him, I could’ve disarmed him and that was it. But I killed him…

My control slipped and broke. I felt twisted inside, balling up into so many knots I thought I’d never be straightened out again. This whole time I had been so convinced that I could do what was necessary, that I could easily kill and when it came down to it, I had killed, but Daemon had been right. Killing wasn’t the hard part. It was what came afterward—the guilt. It was too much. All the ghosts of those who’d died by my own hand and those who had passed on who were tied to me appeared, surrounding me and choking me until the only sound I could make was a hoarse cry.

Daemon made a sound in the back of his throat and pulled me into his arms, blankets and all. The tears came, they kept coming, and he rocked me, holding me close. And it didn’t seem right or fair that he’d comfort me. He didn’t know how easy it had been for me to throw that switch, to become someone else. I wasn’t the same girl. Not the Katy who had changed him and inspired him to be different.

I wasn’t her.

I struggled to pull free, but he held on and I hated that—hated that he didn’t see what I saw. “I’m a monster. I’m like Blake.”

“What?” Disbelief thickened his tone. “You are nothing like him, Kat. How can you say that?”

Tears streaked down my cheeks. “But I am. Blake—he killed because he was desperate. How is what I did any different? It’s not!”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

I dragged in air by the lungful. “I’d do it again. I swear I would. If anyone threatened my mom or you, I would. And I knew that after everything that had happened with Blake and Adam. That’s not how people react—it’s not right.”

“There’s nothing wrong with protecting those you love,” he argued. “Do you think I’ve enjoyed killing those I have? I haven’t. But I wouldn’t go back and change those things.”

I wiped at my cheeks as my shoulders shook. “Daemon, it’s different.”

“How is it?” He grasped my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him through tear-soaked lashes. “Remember when I took out those two DOD officers at the warehouse? I hated that I did it, but I had no other choice. If they reported back that they’d seen us, it would all be over and I wasn’t going to let them take you.”

His fingers chased after the tears and he dipped his head, catching my gaze when I tried to look away. “And I hated what I have done—I hated every time I’ve taken a life, Arum or human, but sometimes, there is no other choice. You don’t accept it. You don’t become okay with it, but you do come to understand it.”

I grasped his wrists. They were so thick that my fingers barely met. “But what…what if I was okay with it?”

“You’re not okay with it, Kat.” His belief in that statement, in me, rang true in his voice, and I couldn’t understand that blind faith. “I know you’re not.”

“How can you be so sure?” I whispered.

Daemon smiled a little. Not a full breathtaking kind of smile, but it still reached down into me, wrapping around my heart. “I know you’re good inside. You’re warmth and light and everything I don’t deserve, but you—you believe that I deserve you. Knowing all that I have done in my past to other people and to you, you still believe I deserve you.”

“I—”

“And that’s because you’re good inside—you’ve always been and will be.” His hands slipped down my throat, to curve around my shoulders. “There is nothing you can say or do that will change that. So grieve what you had to do. Mourn it, but never, ever blame yourself for things that are beyond your control.”

I didn’t know what to say.

His smile slipped into that smug half grin that infuriated and thrilled me. “Now get the rest of that crap out of your head, because you’re so much better than that; you’re more than that.”

His words, well, they may not have washed away everything and they may not have changed the part in me that wasn’t as perfect as he thought, but they wrapped around me like a soft down comforter. They were enough for that moment to…to understand what I had done and that was important, that was enough. There weren’t any words for how much I appreciated what he said and what he had done. A thank-you wasn’t enough.

Still shaking, my hands balled up into those tiny knots, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. His fingers tightened around my shoulders as his chest rose sharply. I tasted my own salty tears on his lips and as the kiss deepened, I tasted my own fear.

But there was more.

There was our love—there was our hope that we’d walk out of this with a future. There was our acceptance of each other—the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. There was so much pent-up longing. So much emotion that it packed a sucker punch straight to my soul and his, I knew it, because I could feel his heart rate picking up. Mine matched his—made for his. All of that was in a simple kiss and it was too much, not enough, and just perfect.

I pulled back, drawing in a sharp breath. Our eyes locked. A wealth of emotion shone in his brilliant green eyes. He cupped my cheek with one hand tenderly, and he spoke in his lovely language. It sounded like three lyrical words—a short, beautiful verse.

“What did you say?” I asked, my fingers loosening around the cover.

His smile was secretive and then his lips were on mine again and my eyes drifted shut. I let go of the blanket, felt it slip away, pool around my hips, and I felt Daemon stop breathing for a moment.

He guided me back, and I wrapped my arms around him. We kissed for what felt like an eternity and that wasn’t long enough. I could keep going, never stop, because in that moment, we created a world where nothing else existed. We lost ourselves in each other for a while and time, it sped and crept by in the same instance. We kissed until I was breathless, pausing only to explore each other. We were warm and flushed, twisting against each other. My body arched against his and when I moaned, he stilled.

He lifted his head but said nothing. Stared for so long and so hard that every point in my body seemed stretched too far. My chest squeezed. I reached up, placing my trembling hand on his cheek.

His head dipped against my cheek, and his voice was rough and raw. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

I wasn’t going to. Not now. Not after everything. There was nothing to deny anymore, and my answer was to kiss him, and without words, he understood.

He settled over me, not touching, not quite. The electricity between us snapped and pulled. A wild feeling pulsed through me. I lifted my hands, sinking them into his hair, pulling him closer. I swept my lips over his, and his body trembled. His fiery eyes drifted shut as my thumb moved on his bottom lip. My hands were on the move, slipping over the thick cords in his neck and back, around his chest and down. Lower, over the hard planes of his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath.

The edges of his body started to glow, casting the room in a soft light. Heat rolled off his body. Daemon’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, pulling me into his lap. His eyes were no longer green, just orbs of pure light. My heart tripped over itself. A fire started in my stomach, spreading through me like a wave of lava.

His hands trembled on my hips and the sudden onslaught of fresh, unbridled power washed over me. It was like touching fire or being hit by a thousand volts of electricity. It was exhilarating.

I’d never been more excited, more ready.

When his lips met mine, a thousand emotions erupted in me. His taste was delicious and addictive. I pressed against him, our kisses deepening until I was swimming in heady sensations that beat against every pore in my body. Everywhere we touched my skin came alive. His lips trailed a fiery path from mine to the column of my throat. All around us, his light flickered, like a thousand stars lining the walls, fading in and out.

Our hands were everywhere. His fingers were on my stomach, moving up, between my ribs. There seemed to be something slower about this. Each touch was measured and precise. Breathing became difficult as our explorations grew. This was definitely not his first time at any of this, but he didn’t rush and he shook as much as I did.

His jeans ended up somewhere on his floor and our bodies were flush. Hands delving lower and lower. Daemon took his time even when I was pushing him to go faster. He slowed it down, made it last for what felt like forever…until neither of us could wait any longer. I remembered what Dee had said about her first time. There was no awkwardness here. Most things were expected. Daemon had protection and there was discomfort…at first. Okay. It hurt, but Daemon… He made it better. And then we were moving against each other.

Being this way with him was like tapping into the Source but more powerful. The roller-coaster feeling was there, but different and deeper, and he was right there with me. It was more than perfect and beautiful.

After what felt like hours later and honestly could’ve been, Daemon kissed me softly, deeply. “Are you okay?”

My bones felt like mush in a totally good way. “I’m perfect.” And then I yawned, right in his face. How romantic.

Daemon busted into laughter, and I turned my cheek into the pillow, trying to hide. He didn’t let me, though. As if I expected anything less. He rolled onto his side, pulling me against him, tilting my head toward his.

His eyes searched mine. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I loved the feel of his arms around me and how I fit against him, hard against soft.

He trailed his fingers over my arm, and I was amazed by how he could make me shiver. “For everything,” he said.

Elation swelled inside my chest, and as we lay in each other’s arms, our breaths coming out ragged, our bodies tangled together, we still couldn’t get enough of each other. We kissed. We talked. We lived.