Oblivion (Page 67)

“No problems then?” Dark glasses shielded Lane’s eyes.

Defining the word “problem” would be interesting. “Nope.”

“That’s good.” Lane looked down the road. “I was worried.”

Unease stirred in my gut. “Why?”

“You don’t like humans,” he answered honestly. “And with one moving in right next door, I figured you’d be pissed about that.”

I snorted at Lane’s frank honesty. Can’t say I actually liked Lane, but he was better than Vaughn. When Dawson…when he died, Lane had seemed genuinely upset, unlike Vaughn, who obviously hadn’t cared. “I wasn’t happy. You knew that when I asked you and Vaughn about why they were allowed to move in, but what can I do?”

“Nothing,” replied Lane. He folded his arms as his chin turned toward me.

I shrugged again. “Where’s your buddy?”

“Vaughn?” One side of Lane’s lips curled, almost like the idea of him being friends with Vaughn disgusted him. I knew there was a reason I tolerated Lane. “He’s off doing something with Husher.”

Now it was my turn. My lips curled in revulsion. Nancy Husher. Man, I disliked that woman. Didn’t trust her, which was bad, because she was pretty high up there in the DOD, but luckily, we didn’t have to deal with her often.

“A couple of weeks ago, there was an abnormal burst of energy around here,” Lane stated, changing the subject to something else I didn’t want to talk about. “It was tracked back to the main access road outside of your house.”

I was betting “a couple of weeks ago” was code word for Kat stepping in front of a speeding truck.

Lane shifted his weight, which was slight. “You all playing football again?”

I almost laughed. Dee had made that up the last time we’d been asked about unusual activity. We didn’t play any Luxen form of football and we sure as hell didn’t toss around balls of energy, but it had been the perfect excuse. I nodded. “With the Thompsons. We got a little out of hand.”

“Your new neighbors didn’t see this, did they?”

I clenched my jaw. “We’re not stupid. They weren’t home.”

Lane nodded. “Good to hear.”

Pushing off the side of my SUV, I unfolded my arms. “Anything else?”

Officer Lane shook his head.

I opened the driver’s door and was about to climb in when he stopped me. “Be careful, Daemon. With your new neighbors, it’s not just going to be me or Vaughn keeping an eye on you. You might want to lay off the football.”

Saturday evening was going to be the night that I locked Kat in her house. Swear to God, deities, and whoever else, it was going to happen.

“You’re going to let me do this,” she said, her eyes a stormy gray as she glared at me. “Because I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing.”

“I never said you have to sit here. I don’t want to sit here, either.”

Her chin raised a notch. “No one is making you stay here, then!”

“Really?” Derision dripped from my voice. “I think you know why I’m here.”

Kat tossed her head back and groaned. “I just want to go to this bookstore Carissa was telling me about. It’s in town.”

I knew which one she was talking about. Not like it was hard. There was only one bookstore in town. It was a used one, and the owner sometimes had no idea what they had in their store or its value. “And while the last thing I want to do is spend Friday night in a bookstore, all I’m saying is that I’m going with you.”

Her little hands balled into fists. “Can’t you see why I don’t want you to go? You don’t want to, and you’re going to make it a terrible experience.”

I rolled my eyes. “I will not.”

She crossed her arms and stared at me pointedly.

“Seriously.”

Looking over my shoulder, toward the woods, Kat sighed heavily. “Look, I get that I shouldn’t go by myself. That it’s—”

“Dangerous and stupid,” I supplied helpfully.

The line of her jaw hardened, and a moment passed. “Yeah, I get that it’s dangerous, but—”

“That should be the end of the conversation right there.”

Kat lowered her frustrated gaze to mine. “But it’s Friday evening, and Dee went to the movies with Adam, and I’m…I’m stuck here with—”

“With me?” I raised both brows as I crossed my arms, mirroring her stance.

She sighed again. “I don’t want to sound like a jerk, but I don’t…you don’t even like me most of the time. I mean, one minute you’re really cool and are actually fun to be around and the next—like the last couple of days—you have been such a jerk.”

I hadn’t been the friendliest since the day in the cafeteria. I didn’t like the shit with Lane and the questions he’d been asking. I didn’t like the shit with Simon. I didn’t like that I didn’t like the shit with Simon. I didn’t like the shit with the Thompsons, namely Andrew and Ash, who were not at all secretive about their growing contempt when it came to Kat. I didn’t like the shit with Matthew, whose paranoia was damn near contagious. I didn’t like the shit with Dee, because she acted like nothing was wrong and everything was unicorns vomiting rainbows.

I didn’t like the shit with Kat in general.

Needless to say, my mood was shit .

The center of Kat’s cheeks were slightly pinker than the rest of her face, and even though her gaze was steady, I knew my mood swings affected her. The girl was mentally strong—an emotional powerhouse—but I wasn’t easy on her. No way, nohow. And even though it was her who moved into this house and it was her who walked out in front of that truck, none of this was her fault.