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“What does that mean?” Daemon tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. I glared at them.
Blake folded his arms and rocked back. “Like in the freakish-mutant-looks department and in the head, and it’s different for everyone.”
“Am I going to turn into a mutant?” I squeaked.
He laughed. “I don’t think so.”
I don’t think sowasn’t high on the reassurance scale.
Daemon’s fingers stopped their a
“Blake,” he corrected. “Like I said, I’ve known others like Katy who have been sucked into the DOD.”
“Uh huh.” Daemon smirked.
Blake shook his head. “Anyway, back to the important stuff. We need to see if you can control it. If not…”
Before I even had a chance to respond, Daemon was on his feet and in Blake’s face. “Or what, Hank? What if she can’t?”
“Daemon.” I sighed. “First off, his name is Blake. B-L-A-K-E. And really, can we do this without any macho-man moments? Because if not, this is going to take forever.”
He spun around, pi
“The best thing to start with is to see if you can move anything on command.” Blake paused. “And I guess we can go from there.”
“Move what?”
Blake looked around the room. “How about a book?”
A book? Hell, which one? Shaking my head, I focused on the one that had a cover of a girl whose dress turned into rose petals. So pretty. It was about reincarnation and had a male main character who was swoon-worthy and then some. God, I’d so want to date—
“Focus,” Blake said.
I made a face, but okay, I wasn’t really focusing. I pictured the book lifting into the air and coming to my hand like I’d seen Daemon and Dee do so many times.
Nothing happened.
I tried harder. Waited longer. But the book remained on the back of the couch…as did the pillows, the remote control, and Mom’s Good Housekeepingmagazine.
Three hours later and the best I’d done was cause the coffee table to tremble and Daemon to doze off on the couch.
I fail.
Tired and cranky, I ended practice and woke up Daemon by kicking the leg of the coffee table. “I’m hungry. I’m tired. And I’m done.”
Blake’s brows shot up. “Okay. We can pick up tomorrow. No biggie.”
I glared at him.
Stretching his arms, Daemon yawned. “Wow, Brad, you are such a great trainer. I’m amazed.”
“Shut up,” I said, and then ushered Blake out the front door. On the porch, I apologized. “I’m sorry for being so bitchy, but I feel like an epic fail right now. Like I’m the captain of my own personal failboat.”
He smiled. “You’re not a failboat, Katy. This can take a while, but the frustration is worth it in the end. The last thing you want is the DOD knowing you’re mutated and coming for whoever was responsible.”
I shivered. Causing something like that to happen would kill me. “I know. And…thank you for wanting to help.” I bit my lip and peeked at him. Maybe Daemon was right last night. Blake was risking a lot even being around me. Wouldn’t most people bail if they knew the DOD was heavily entrenched here? I just didn’t want to believe it was because he had feelings for me.
“Blake, I know this is dangerous for you and I don’t—”
“Katy, it’s okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. He also let go pretty quickly; probably he was afraid Daemon would appear out of nowhere and break his hand. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
A little bit of relief flooded me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“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.”