Onyx (Page 40)

Something smelled sweet and familiar. Confused, I twisted around. A single rose in full bloom, a vibrant red, brushed against the tip of my nose. Tan fingers held the green stem. My eyes lifted.

Daemon stood there, his eyes glittering like green tinsel. He patted me on the nose with the rose again. “Good morning.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at him.

“This is for you,” he added when I didn’t say anything.

Every single person in class was staring as my fingers wrapped around the cool, damp stem. Daemon sat down before I could say anything. I sat there, holding the rose until the teacher walked in and started calling off names.

Daemon’s throaty chuckle warmed my chest.

Cheeks flaming, I placed the rose on my desk, and I honestly don’t think I took my eyes off it. When Daemon had said he wasn’t giving up, I had no idea he was going to go all balls-to-the-wall right off the bat. Why would he? Maybe he just wanted to have sex with me. And that had to be all, right? Hatred turned to lust. He’d been so against me months ago and now he wanted to be with me, going against the wishes of his race? Maybe he had a secret drug habit.

The light caught the moisture on the rose.

I looked up, catching Lesa’s gaze. She mouthed, Nice.

Nice? It was nice and sweet and romantic and about a thousand other things that had my heart doing backflips. Sneaking a peek at Daemon over my shoulder, I watched him scribble along a blank piece of notebook paper. His brows were lowered in concentration. Thick, sooty lashes hid his eyes.

They lifted and his lips spread into a grin.

I was in so much trouble.

…

Cops were everywhere over the next couple of days, asking students and teachers questions about Simon. Daemon and I ended up being some of the first people they talked to. As if we were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, plotting to take out jocks everywhere. Well, the fact that Daemon had beaten the crap out of Simon didn’t look good. But the cops didn’t treat us like suspects. After my first and only questioning with them in the principal’s office, I determined that two of the state troopers were aliens. And I also got the distinct impression they suspected I knew their secret.

I wondered if someone had let the alien out of the bag. Ash was the most likely suspect, especially since Daemon had become the bearer of gifts. One day he brought me a pumpkin spiced latte—my favorite—then an egg and bacon breakfast croissant, glazed doughnuts on Thursday, and a lily on Friday. He did nothing to hide his intentions.

Part of me actually felt bad for Ash. She’d spent her whole life expecting to be with Daemon. I couldn’t even imagine what she was thinking—if she was mourning the final downfall of their relationship or if it was just that she’d lost something she’d believed was hers. If I ended up being found in a ditch somewhere, my bets would be on Ash or Andrew. Adam had left the dark side and was now sitting with Dee at lunch. They literally couldn’t keep their hands off each other…or our food.

Each night, Daemon soaked up my time. Keeping an eye on me was what he claimed to be doing, waiting to see if I was attacked by a chair again. In his world, that translated into time suckage that involved every possible way he could get close to me. Like, really, will-breaking, body-tingling close.

Blake…well, Blake spoke to me in class. He texted a few times at night, and I always had to wait until Daemon decided to leave before I could call him back, but there had been no talk of another date.

Daemon had been successful with the scare tactics, which he was unabashedly proud of.

Saturday afternoon, I was in a marathon review-writing spree when someone knocked on my front door. Finishing up my last sentence—Mesmerizing debut, heart-stopping action, and swoon-worthy romance, The Hidden Circle is a forget-your-homework, don’t-feed-your-kids, and quit-your-job one-sit read—before shutting my laptop.

As I neared the door, I felt the tingling on my neck. Daemon. I tripped over the upturned corner of the area rug and took a second to straighten the ribbed sweater that had ridden up before I snatched open the front door.

Familiar feelings of anxiety slid through me. What did he have up his sleeve today? In other words, how much more could he possibly complicate my life? My no-kiss policy had remained strong since Monday. But strangely, even as innocent and clandestine as our meetings were, there was still a level of intimacy that couldn’t be denied.

Daemon was changing.

I was used to the sarcastic and rude Daemon. In an odd way, that version was easier to deal with. We could trade insults all day. But this Daemon…this one who wouldn’t give up was kind and gentle, funny and—dear God—thoughtful.

Daemon waited on the porch, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He had been gazing into the distance but pivoted around the moment I pushed open the door.

He brushed past me and into the hallway. The scent of him, a mixture of the outdoors and sandalwood, followed. It was a heady aroma, all completely his.

“You look nice today,” he commented unexpectedly.

I glanced down at my gray hoodie and tucked a tangled strand of hair behind my ear. “Uh, thanks.” I cleared my throat. “So…what’s up?”

His excuse for spending time with me was always the vague “Watching out for you,” so I wasn’t expecting anything different today. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Well, hell…

He chuckled deeply. “I thought we could take a walk. It’s nice outside.”

Glancing back at my laptop, I debated. Spending time with him wasn’t something I should be doing. It just encouraged his…not-so-bad behavior.