Opposition (Lux #5)(7)
Author: J. Lynn

Tiny balls of ice formed in my stomach. “Sadi?”

“That’s right. You don’t know her. I’m sure you will, though.”

I shook my head as my entire being rebelled against what she was insinuating. “No. No way.” I stood on shaky legs. “I don’t know what your problem is or what happened to you, but Daemon would never do anything like that. Ever.”

Dee’s gaze sharpened as she eyed me like I wasn’t worth the ground she stepped on. “Things aren’t the way they used to be, Katy. The sooner you get with the program the better, because right now, you’re his weak link. That’s all you are to him.” She took a measured step forward, and I held my ground. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because of him. And not because he loves you, because that boat sailed the big old ocean blue the moment we opened our eyes. Thank God.”

I flinched at her words, and the ice grew bigger, spreading into my veins.

“And it’s about time,” she continued, tilting her head to the side. “Ever since you came into his life—our lives—everything has been messed up. If I could take you out right now without killing him, I would. I’d relish it. So would he. You’re nothing to us anymore, or to him. Nothing more than a problem we need to figure out how to handle.”

I sucked in a breath that didn’t seem to do any good. A knot formed in my throat, making it hard to swallow, and I told myself that it didn’t matter what Dee was saying. Something was definitely wrong with her, because Daemon didn’t just love me; he was in love with me, and he’d do anything to be with me. Just as I would for him, and nothing could change that. The commitment we’d made to each other in Vegas may not have been technically the most legal of all things, but it had been real to me—to us. But her words . . . they still cut worse than any blade could ever inflict.

Dee’s lashes lowered as her features pinched tight. “So . . . ?”

I opened my mouth, but the ball of emotion cut me off for a moment, and when I spoke, my voice was hoarse. “What do you want me to say to that?”

She shrugged. “Nothing really, but I need to take you to see him.”

“Daemon?” I tensed.

“No.” She chuckled, the sound light and airy, and for a moment, it sounded like the Dee I knew. “Not him.”

When she didn’t elaborate and I didn’t move, she clucked her tongue in frustration and then popped forward. Grabbing my arm in a tight grasp, she all but dragged me out of the bedroom and into a wide hall.

“Come on,” she urged, impatient.

I struggled to keep up with her long-legged pace. Bare-foot and exhausted and beyond confused, I was feeling more human than hybrid, but when we got to the landing, she’d nearly pulled my arm out of my socket and had my shoulder aching something fierce.

“I can walk. You don’t have to drag me.” I yanked and slipped free, knowing that she simply let me. “I can . . .” The framed photo of an attractive family on the stairwell caught my eye. The glass was broken and there was something dark and rusty smeared across it.

My stomach roiled.

“You can just stand there?” Her eyes narrowed on me. “If you don’t move, I will throw you down the stairs. It’ll hurt. You might break your neck. It’s three levels. Someone will heal you. Or maybe we’ll just leave you like that, alive but unable—”

“I get your point,” I snapped back at her, taking a deep breath so I didn’t attempt to push her down the stairs.

“Good,” she chirped, grinning.

For some reason, it was in that moment, as I tried to reconcile the girl who had stood in the kitchen with me a few days ago and made spaghetti with this nasty creature before me, that I remembered Archer. “What happened to . . . ?” I trailed off suddenly, and probably rightfully, wary of bringing up anything that led back to who remained at the cabin.

“Archer? He got away.” She started down the steps.

I stared at her back, my heart working overtime.

“I’m serious,” she called. “I will throw you down these damn steps.”

I took a second to entertain the idea of drop-kicking her in the back of the head. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I was convinced she had to have an alien insect attached to her somewhere that changed her personality, and her attitude wasn’t her fault.

Heading down the stairs, I willed my brain to start working correctly as I took in my surroundings. I was in a big house, the kind that opulence would be envious of. There were a lot of bedrooms and halls, and when we reached the second landing, I could see down into the foyer, lit by a crystal chandelier. Like, real crystals.

But down below, I could also see Luxen, all in human forms. None of them looked familiar to me. At least these Luxen had discovered the usefulness of clothing, but as I scanned them, I noticed there weren’t any sets of three other than the Blacks. Each one of them was different. My fingers were numb from how tightly I was clenching my hands. The Luxen looked at me the same way Dee had. A few pushed off the wall as we walked past, heads tilting in that weird way that reminded me of a snake. Another stood from a leather chaise longue; all of them appeared to be in their mid-twenties to their forties, though who knew what their real age was.

What I’d seen in the market hadn’t been anything like Daemon and Dee had explained to me. What the Luxen had done had been different.

A light-haired woman by the leather chair sneered and looked like she wanted to jump the heavy-looking oak table, straddle my shoulders, and rip off my head. As hard as it was, I forced my chin high, even though my heart was beating so fast I thought I’d be sick.

We walked through a long atrium, and from the darkness beyond the glass walls, I could tell that it was night outside. As we reached the middle, I felt it.

A tingle spread across the nape of my neck.

My heart stopped and then skipped a beat. Daemon was here, behind those double doors. I knew it, and warring hope and uncertainty fought inside me.

The doors opened before we reached them, revealing the kind of office I’d never seen in a home before, and my gaze was drawn to a desk in the middle of the room. A man sat behind it wearing a smile, but what was most shocking was the fact that I’d seen him before, seconds ago.

He was the man in the broken photo, but I knew he wasn’t human. His eyes glowed a bright, unnatural blue. He rose fluidly as we stepped into the office, the doors closing behind us, but my attention veered off immediately.

There were other Luxen in the room, two more males and a tall, beautiful redhead. I didn’t care about any of them. Standing next to the redhead, to the right of the man behind the desk, was Daemon.

My heart did something funky in my chest as a rush of shivers danced over my skin. Our eyes locked, and I felt dizzy once again. So much rose inside me as I stepped toward him, my tongue forming his name, but my voice was gone. Our gazes held for a second more and then he . . . he looked away, his profile stoic and blank. Heart thudding in my chest, I stared at him.

“Daemon?” I said, and when he didn’t answer, when he watched the man behind the desk like he . . . like he was bored with it all, I tried again. “Daemon?”

Like the night the Luxen came, there was no answer.

5

{ Katy }

I still stared at Daemon, completely aware that everyone else except him was watching me. Closely. But why wouldn’t he look at me? A razor-sharp panic clawed at my insides. No. This couldn’t be happening. No way.

My body was moving before I even knew what I was doing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dee shake her head and one of the Luxen males step forward, but I was propelled by an inherent need to prove that my worst fears were not coming true.

After all, he’d healed me, but then I thought of what Dee had said, of how Dee had behaved with me. What if Daemon was like her? Turned into something so foreign and cold? He would’ve healed me just to make sure he was okay.

I still didn’t stop.

Please, I thought over and over again. Please. Please. Please.

On shaky legs, I crossed the long room, and even though Daemon hadn’t seemed to even acknowledge my existence, I walked right up to him, my hands trembling as I placed them on his chest.

“Daemon?” I whispered, voice thick.

His head whipped around, and he was suddenly staring down at me. Our gazes collided once more, and for a second I saw something so raw, so painful in those beautiful eyes. And then his large hands wrapped around my upper arms. The contact seared through the shirt I wore, branding my skin, and I thought—I expected—that he would pull me against him, that he would embrace me, and even though nothing would be all right, it would be better.

Daemon’s hands spasmed around my arms, and I sucked in an unsteady breath.

His eyes flashed an intense green as he physically lifted me away from him, setting me back down a good foot back.

I stared at him, something deep in my chest cracking. “Daemon?”

He said nothing as he let go, one finger at a time, it seemed, and his hands slid off my arms. He stepped back, returning his attention to the man behind the desk.

“So . . . awkward,” murmured the redhead, smirking.

I was rooted to the spot in which I stood, the sting of rejection burning through my skin, shredding my insides like I was nothing more than papier-mâché.

“I think someone was expecting more of a reunion,” the Luxen male behind the desk said, his voice ringing with amusement. “What do you think, Daemon?”

One shoulder rose in a negligent shrug. “I don’t think anything.”

My mouth opened, but there were no words. His voice, his tone, wasn’t like his sister’s, but like it had been when we first met. He used to speak to me with barely leashed annoyance, where a thin veil of tolerance dripped from every word.

The rift in my chest deepened.

For the hundredth time since the Luxen arrived, Sergeant Dasher’s warning came back to me. What side would Daemon and his family stand on? A shudder worked its way down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, unable to truly process what had just happened.

“And you?” the man asked. When no one answered, he tried again. “Katy?”

I was forced to look at him, and I wanted to shrink back from his stare. “What?” I was beyond caring that my voice broke on that one word.

The man smiled as he walked around the desk. My gaze flickered over to Daemon as he shifted, drawing the attention of the beautiful redhead. “Were you expecting a more personal greeting?” he asked. “Perhaps something more intimate?”

I had no idea how to answer. I felt like I’d fallen into the rabbit hole, and warnings were firing off left and right. Something primal inside me recognized that I was surrounded by predators.

Completely.

“I don’t know what to . . . to think.” There was a horrifying burn of tears crawling up my throat.

“This is all overwhelming for you, I imagine. The whole world as you know it is on the brink of great change, and you’re here and don’t even know my name.” The man smiled so broadly, I wondered if it hurt. “You can call me Rolland.”

Then he extended a hand.

My gaze dropped to it and I made no attempt to take it.

Rolland chuckled as he turned and strolled back to the desk. “So, you’re a hybrid? Mutated and linked to him on such an intense level that if one of you dies, so does the other?”

His question caught me off guard, but I kept quiet.

He sat on the edge of the desk. “You’re actually the first hybrid I’ve seen.”

“She really isn’t anything special.” The redhead sneered. “Frankly, she’s rather filthy, like an unclean animal.”

As stupid as it was, my cheeks heated, because I was filthy, and Daemon had just physically removed me from him. My pride—my everything—was officially wounded.

Rolland chuckled. “She’s had a rough day, Sadi.”

At her name, every muscle in my body locked up, and my gaze swung back to her. That was Sadi? The one Dee said was trying to molest Daemon—my Daemon? Anger punched through the confusion and hurt. Of course it would have to be a freaking walking and talking model and not a hag.

“Rough day or not, I can’t imagine she cleans up well.” Sadi looked at Daemon as she placed a hand on his chest. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

“Are you?” Daemon replied.

Every hair on my body rose as my arms unfolded.

“Yes,” she purred. “I really think you can do better. Lots better.” As she spoke, she trailed a red-painted finger down the center of his chest, over his abdomen, heading straight for the button on his jeans.

And oh, hell to the no. “Get your hands off him.”

Sadi’s head snapped in my direction. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think I stuttered.” I took a step forward. “But it looks like you need me to repeat it. Get your freaking hands off him.”