I loved Christmas when Dad was alive. Both of us were those people who digressed several years on Christmas morning. I’d scamper down the stairs at the crack of dawn to sit alone in front of the Christmas tree, spending the early hours of Christmas morning waiting for my parents to wake. A ritual only broken when Dad died.
The last three years, I’d made cinnamon buns alone, filling the air with their sweet scent, and when Mom came home from work, we’d exchange gifts.
This year was different.
When I woke up, the scent of cinnamon already permeated the air and Will was downstairs, wearing a checkered robe and sharing a cup of coffee with Mom. He’d stayed the night. Again. Upon seeing me standing in the doorway, he got up and hugged me.
I froze, my arms hanging awkwardly at my sides.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, patting me on the back.
I mumbled the same back to him, aware of my mom beaming from the couch. We opened gifts, like we used to with Dad. Maybe that’s what put me in a weird mood that lingered all morning, dogging every step I took, determined to ruin the holiday.
Mom had gone upstairs to shower after putting Will and me to work on dinner. He pulled a glazed ham out of the oven. His attempts at small talk had been vastly ignored until he went there.
“Any more overnight visits?” he asked with a sly, conspiratorial smile.
I beat the mashed potatoes harder, wondering if he were trying to be the good guy in the picture so I wouldn’t give Mom crap about him. “No.”
“Not like you’d tell me, right?” He dropped the oven mitts on the counter, facing me.
Honestly, I hadn’t seen Daemon since Saturday morning. Two days had gone by without a word from him.
“That boy does seem like a nice kid,” Will went on, pulling out one of the knives Blake had thrown at my head. “He’s a little intense, though.” He paused, brows drawing in a slant as he held the knife up. “Well, so was his brother.”
I almost dropped the spatula. “You’re talking about Dawson?”
Will nodded. “He was the more outgoing of the two, but just as intense. Acted like the whole world could end any minute and each second had to be lived to the fullest. I never got that impression from Daemon. He’s a bit more reserved, eh?”
Reserved? At first I wanted to deny that, but Daemon had always been…restrained. As if he were holding back the most important part of himself.
Cutting into the steaming ham, Will chuckled. “All of them were really tight. I guess that comes with being triplets. Like the Thompson kids.”
My pulse was jumping all over the place for no reason. I went to work on the potatoes again. “You sound like you know them pretty well.”
He shrugged, moving several thick slices onto one of Mom’s fancy porcelain platters that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. “It’s a small town. Pretty much know everyone around here.”
“None of them has ever mentioned you.” I sat the bowl on the counter and grabbed for the milk.
“Don’t know why they would.” He angled toward me, smiling. “I don’t think they even realize that Bethany was my niece.”
The carton of milk slipped from my fingers, knocking off the counter and hitting the floor. Frothy white liquid pulsed across the tile. Yet I stood frozen. Bethany was his niece?
Will set the knife down and grabbed several paper towels. “Slippery bugger, isn’t it?”
Snapping out of it, I bent down and grabbed the carton. “Bethany was your niece?”
“Yeah, such a sad story, and I’m sure you’ve heard it.”
“I have.” I placed the milk back on the counter and helped him mop up my mess. “I’m sorry about…what happened.”
“So am I.” He tossed the towels in the trash. “It destroyed my sister and her husband. They moved away just a month or so ago. I guess they couldn’t stand living here, being reminded of her. Then that Cutters boy disappears, just like with Bethany and Dawson. It’s a damn shame so many young people disappeared.”
Never once had Daemon or Dee said a word about Will being related to Bethany, but they also didn’t talk about her often. Troubled by the relation Will had and the mention of Simon, I finished making my potatoes in silence. He liked them country style—skin on. Yuck.
“There’s something I wanted to make sure you understood, Katy.” Will laced his fingers in front of him. “I’m not trying to take the place of your father.”
Surprised by the turn in the conversation, I stared at him.
He stared back, pale eyes steady and fixed on mine. “I know it’s hard when one parent moves on, but I’m not here to replace him.”
Before I could respond, he patted me on the shoulder and left the kitchen. The ham had cooled on the counter. The mashed potatoes were finished and so was the macaroni casserole. Up to that moment, I’d been starving, but with the mention of my father, all my appetite vanished.
Deep down I knew Will wasn’t trying to take his place. No man could ever take my father’s place, but two fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I’d cried the first Christmas without him, but the last two I hadn’t. Maybe I was crying now because this was the first real holiday I’d had with my mom that involved someone other than my dad.
My elbow caught the edge of the bowl as I turned, and it spun toward off the counter. Without thinking, I froze the bowl so all my hard work wouldn’t end up on the floor. I grabbed it out of the air, placing it back on the counter. Turning around, I caught sight of a shadow in the hallway, right outside the kitchen door. My breath froze in my throat as two footsteps heavier than my mom’s crossed the hall and started up the steps. Will.
Had he seen me?
And if he had, why hadn’t he busted in here demanding how I froze a bowl in midair?
…
When I woke up the day after Christmas, Will had already taken down the tree. That alone earned him serious negative points. That wasn’t his tree to take down. And I’d wanted to keep that green bulb, and now it was packed away in an attic I wouldn’t dare venture into. Add that to my growing dislike of the man, and I foresaw some serious problems in the future.
Had he seen me stop the bowl? I didn’t know. Could it be a coincidence that the uncle of the girl who had mutated just like me was now putting the moves on my mom? Seemed unlikely. But I had no evidence and who could I really go to? Well, there was one person.
It was hours after Mom had left for work and moments before I headed upstairs that I felt warmth prickle my neck. Stopping in the hallway, I waited with my breath in my throat.
There was a knock on my door.
Daemon waited on the porch, hands in his pockets and a black baseball cap pulled low, hiding the upper part of his face. The look accentuated his sensual lips that were tipped in a crooked grin. “You busy?”
I shook my head.
“Wanna go for a ride?”
“Sure. Let me grab something warmer to put on.” I hurried to find my boots and hoodie, then joined him outside. “Are we going to check on Vaughn?”
“Not really. There’s something I’ve discovered.” He led me to his SUV and waited until we both climbed in before he continued. “But first, did you have a good Christmas? I was going to stop over, but I saw your mom was home.”
“It was good. Will spent the day with us. That was weird. What about you?”
“It was okay. Dee nearly burned the house down trying to make a turkey. Other than that, not very entertaining.” He pulled out of the driveway. “So, how much trouble were you in after Saturday?”
I flushed, thankful for the darkness. “I got a lecture about not making my mom a grandmother.” Daemon laughed, and I sighed. “Now I have rules to follow, but nothing serious.”
“Sorry about that.” He grinned as he slid me a sideways look. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. So where are we going? What have you found out?”
“Vaughn came home Sunday night for about ten minutes. I followed him to just outside of Petersburg to this warehouse in an industrial park that hasn’t been used in years. He stayed there for a few hours and then left, but there were two officers who remained.” He slowed down as a deer dashed across the highway. “They’re keeping something there.”
Excitement hummed through me. “You think they’re keeping Bethany…or Dawson?”
He glanced at me, lips pressed into a tight line. “I don’t know, but I need to get in there and someone needs to keep an eye on the outside while I go.”
Feeling useful, I nodded. “What if the guards are still keeping watch?”
“They weren’t doing anything until Vaughn showed up. He’s home right now. With Nancy.” His lip curled. “I think the two really have something going on.”
It was like Will and my mom. Gross. Thinking of that reminded me of something I needed to ask. “Did you know my mom’s boyfriend is Bethany’s uncle?”
“No.” His brows pinched as he focused on the road. “I didn’t really try to get to know her. Hell, I didn’t really try to get to know any human girl.”
There was a weird flutter in my belly. “So you’ve never…dated a human girl before?”
“Dated? No.” He glanced at me quickly, seeming to decide what to say next. “Hang out with? Yes.”
The flutter turned into a red-hot snake coiling around my insides. Hung out—hung out in the way everyone thought Blake and I were? I wanted to hit something.
“Anyway, I didn’t know they were related.”
I pushed away the jealousy. Now wasn’t the time. “Do you think that’s weird? I mean, he’s related to Bethany, who’s sort of like me now, and he’s messing around with my mom. We know that someone had to have betrayed Dawson and Bethany.”
“It’s weird, but how would he know what had happened? He would’ve needed to have some inside knowledge of the whole healing process to know what to look for.”
“Maybe he’s an implant.”
Daemon looked at me sharply but didn’t say anything. The possibility was disturbing. Will could be using my mom to keep an eye on me. Gaining her trust, sleeping in her bed… I’d kill him.
After a few moments, Daemon cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about what Matthew told us—the whole marrying DNA thing.”
Every muscle in my body tensed, and I stared straight ahead. “Yeah…?”
“I talked to him later and I asked him about the connection, if it could make someone feel anything. He said no. But I already knew that. Thought you should know.”
Closing my eyes, I nodded. Of course, I already knew that. I squeezed my hands into tight balls. I almost told him I knew, but bringing up Blake would really mar the moment. “What about the whole you die, I die thing?”
“What about it?” he responded, eyes on the road. “There isn’t anything we can do about that other than not getting ourselves killed.”
“There’s more to it than that,” I said, watching the rolling white-tipped hills go by. “We’re really joined together, you know. Like, forever…”
“I know,” he said quietly.
There really wasn’t anything I could add to that.
We arrived at the abandoned industrial park near midnight, driving past it first to make sure there were no cars around. There were three buildings clustered together near a field covered in white. One was a squat, one-story brick building and one in the middle was several stories high, large enough to store a jumbo jet.
Daemon pulled behind one of the buildings, parking the SUV between two large sheds with the front facing the only entrance. He turned to me, killing the engine. “I need to get in that building.” He gestured at the tall one. “But you need to stay in the car while I do this. I need eyes on the road and I don’t know what’s waiting in there.”
Fear pinched my stomach. “What if someone is in there? I want to go with you.”
“I can take care of myself. You need to stay in here, where it’s safe.”
“But—”
“No, Kat, stay here. Text me if anyone comes in.” He reached for the door. “Please.”
Given no other choice, I did nothing as Daemon slid out of the car. Twisting in my seat, I watched him disappear around the side of the building. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and faced the front, keeping my eyes trained on the main road.
What if Bethany was in there? Hell, what if Dawson was in there? I couldn’t even wrap my brain around that and what it would mean. Everything would change. Rubbing my hands together, I leaned forward and watched the road. My thoughts kept going back to Will. If he was the implant, then I was so screwed. He’d most likely seen me use my abilities, but if he was the implant, then why hadn’t he contacted the DOD immediately?
Something didn’t add up with that theory.
My breath started to make little puffs of clouds in the rapidly cooling interior. Only ten minutes had passed, but it felt like forever. What was Daemon doing in there? Sightseeing?
I shifted, trying to keep warm. Off in the distance, I saw two headlights piercing the dark. My breath held.
Please go by. Please go by.
The vehicle slowed as it neared the entrance to the industrial park. My heart raced as I realized it was a black Expedition.
“Crap.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent Daemon a quick text. Company.
When he didn’t respond and I didn’t see him heading out of the warehouse, I started to get anxious. The Expedition had disappeared from view, most likely parking in the front. I turned in the seat, gripping the leather until my fingers ached.
No Daemon.
I wasn’t about to let fear or his misguided attempt to keep me safe stop me from helping Daemon. Dragging in a cold breath of air, I opened the door and quietly shut it behind me. Keeping to the shadows, I crept to the corner of the building, passing padlocked bay doors. There were no windows, just a steel door I had no hope of getting open after I tried the lock. Above the door, there was something embedded in the brick, round and glossy in the moonlight, but too dark to make out the color. Glancing back at the bay doors, which were perfect for unloading cargo, it also had a round object embedded over the doors.
I crouched at the edge of the building, craning my neck to see around the side. The path was clear. Not quite relieved, I continued around the corner, keeping close to the side. Up ahead, I saw another door. Was that where Daemon had gone? Biting my lip, I crept closer to the entrance.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Holding my breath, I flattened myself against the building as two men dressed in all black came around the front, talking softly. The orange glow of a cigarette flared and then it flickered through the air, fading out when it hit the ground.
I was trapped.
Stark terror forced the air out of my lungs so quickly it left me dizzy. My muscles locked as I turned my head to the side. The taller man—the smoker—looked up. I knew the second he saw me.
“Hey!” Smoker yelled. “Stop right there!”
Like hell. Pushing off the wall, I sprinted away. I made it a couple of feet before he yelled out again. “Stop! Or I’ll shoot!”
I stopped, throwing my hands up. Each breath I took sawed painfully in and out of my lungs. Crap. Crap. Crap.
“Keep your hands up and turn around,” Smoker ordered. “Now.”
Doing as instructed, I pivoted in place. They were a few steps away, sleek black guns drawn and pointed directly at me. They were dressed like paramilitary or something, in full combat gear. Jesus, what had Daemon stumbled upon?
“Just stay right there,” the shorter one said, approaching me cautiously. “What are you doing here?”
I clamped my mouth shut and felt the heady rush of Source pooling in my veins, provoked by fear. Static built under my clothing, raising the tiny hairs on my body. It demanded to be called upon, used. But tapping into it would seriously expose what I was.
“What are you doing here?” the shorter one demanded again, now just a foot away.
“I’m…lost. I was looking for the interstate.”
Smoker glanced at the shorter officer. “Bullshit.”
My heart was pounding so hard I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, but I kept the Source locked inside. “I’m serious. I was hoping this was, like, a visitor’s center or something. I got off at the wrong exit.”
The closest one lowered the gun by a fraction of an inch. “The highway is several miles from here. You must’ve taken the wrong exit by a long shot.”
I nodded eagerly. “I’m not from around here. And all the roads and signs look the same. Like the towns all sound the same,” I rambled on, playing the dumb girl. “I’m trying to get to Moorefield.”
“She’s lying,” Smoker spat.
Any hope that had sparked in me died in a fiery crash. Smoker came closer, keeping the gun trained on me. With one hand, he reached out and placed his palm against my cheek. His hand smelled of cigarettes and disinfectant.
“See,” the shorter one said, starting to put his gun back into the holster attached to his thigh. “She’s just lost. You’re getting paranoid. Go ahead, honey, get out of here.”
Smoker grunted and grasped my other cheek, ignoring his partner. Something warm and sharp was in his palm. Fear spiked my heart rate. Was it a knife?
“I’m lost. I swear—”
Red-hot, needle-sharp pain streaked across my cheek, slicing down my neck and over my shoulder. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
The pain rushed at me in waves. Blackness inched across my vision, and I doubled over, breaking contact with whatever he held in his hand.
“Christ,” the shorter one said. “You’re right. She’s one of them.”
I dropped to my knees as the pain ebbed, leaving a dull ache throbbing deep in my skin. Gulping in air, I placed my hand against my cheek, expecting to find my skin split open, but it was only warm.
“Told you.” Smoker grasped my arm, yanking me forward. When I lifted my head, he had a gun pressed between my eyes. “What’s in this barrel will do far worse. So you better think carefully before you answer the next question. Who are you?”
Speechless, fear held me paralyzed.
He shook me. “Answer me.”
“I…I…”
“What’s going on out here?” a new voice asked, coming up from behind the two men.
Smoker stepped to the side, and my heart dropped. It was Vaughn.
“We found her sneaking around back here,” Smoker said, sounding like he’d just caught the biggest catfish to date. “She’s one of them.”
Vaughn frowned as he moved closer, his bushy mustache blowing as he breathed heavily. “Good job. I’ll take this one.”
I couldn’t breathe. Vaughn had been inside, where Daemon was. Had he caught Daemon, done something to him? If so, it was entirely my fault. I’d started this by telling him I’d seen Bethany. I may not have controlled where the rock went, but I’d pushed it down the hill.
“Are you sure?” asked the shorter officer.
Vaughn nodded, reaching down and grasping my other arm, hauling me to my feet. “I’ve had my eye on this one for a while.”
“The cages should be prepped,” Smoker said, letting go of my other arm reluctantly. “It took a while for it to work on her. You might want to double it up.”
Cages? My mouth dried up.
The shorter officer looked me over, eyes narrowing. “Since we caught this one, shouldn’t we get a reward?”
“Reward?” asked Vaughn, voice low.
Smoker laughed. “Yeah, like with the other one. That was one hell of a reward. Husher won’t know any different as long as we don’t mess her up.”
Before my brain could come to terms with what he meant, Vaughn pushed me to the side hard enough I lost my balance and hit the ground. He threw up his hand. Lightning crackled around his arm, flaring red-white as it enveloped his body until he was nothing more than light.
I gasped, realizing Vaughn was…Daemon.
“Dammit!” yelled Smoker, reaching for his gun. “It’s a trick!”
Pulsing with light and power, he released the energy. It struck Smoker first, sending him several feet back. The light arched, smacking into the shorter officer. He too went flying into the side of the building. There was a sickening crunch, and he fell to the ground, skin and clothing smoking. The man shuddered once, and then his face turned to…ash.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
A slight breeze moved down the building, stirring the fallen man. Pieces of him flicked up into the air, floating away until nothing remained. It was the same where Smoker had fallen. There was nothing left of them.
Daemon’s light dimmed, and when I looked at him, he was in his human form. I expected him to flip out about my not staying in the car, but all he did was reach down and take my hand, gently pulling me to my feet. The baseball cap hid his eyes, but his lips were pressed in that hard, unyielding line.
“We need to get out of here,” he said.
I agreed.