“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.”
“Of course,” I murmured. There was no way I’d involve her.
His muscled arms folded, and he became all business. “And going along with everything will keep tabs on him. So, you were right last night about that.”
This wasn’t the part of last night’s conversation I wanted to talk about. After seeing how affected he was when he’d thought I’d gone out on a date with Blake—even though he seemed to have gotten over that pretty quickly—and spending all day feeling heartsick and shattered, I wanted to talk to him about us. About what I’d realized as I moped around the house all day.
“I don’t like this, but…” He paused. “But I’ll ask you one more time to not do this with him. Trust that I can find something out that can help you—help us.”
I wanted to tell him yes, but how was Daemon going to ask anyone without arousing suspicion? If the DOD was everywhere, who could say there weren’t Luxen working for them? Anything was possible.
Since I didn’t answer right away, he seemed to know what my decision was, because he made this laugh/inhale sound and nodded. A splinter pierced my heart.
“Okay. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day. More Butler. Yay.”
And then he walked out. Actually walked out of the kitchen instead of doing that super-fast thing he usually did. And I stood there, wondering what the hell just went down and why I never stopped him and told him what I was thinking.
What I was feeling.
Courage—I really needed to find the courage to tell him how I felt tomorrow, before things went further south between us.
Chapter 20
Days and then weeks went by. Each morning started the same as the one before. I’d wake up dizzy, feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Every day the dark smudges under my eyes grew more prominent.
I didn’t speak to my mom most mornings, which blew, because that was the only time we really got to see each other. She was busy with work and Will, and I was busy with school; Blake; and a distant, closed-off Daemon. Who spent most of the practices watching Blake like a hawk does when searching for prey.