“Caving in?” I laughed without feeling. “I just want you out of my face.”
Daemon chuckled deeply. “Keep telling yourself that, Kitten.”
“Keep using your ego steroids.”
In a blink of an eye, he was in front of me, blocking my exit. Then he prowled forward, head lowered and eyes full of intent. I backed up until my hands found the edge of the kitchen table.
“What?” I demanded.
Placing his hands on either side of my hips, he bent forward. His breath was warm against my cheek and our eyes locked. He moved a fraction of an inch closer, and his lips brushed my chin. A strangled gasp escaped the back of my throat, and I swayed toward him.
A heartbeat later, Daemon pulled back, chuckling smugly. “Yeah…not my ego, Kitten. Go get ready.”
Dammit!
Giving him the finger, I left the kitchen and went upstairs. My skin still felt clammy and gross and it had nothing to do with what happened, but I changed into a pair of sweats and a thermal. Running was the last thing I wanted to do. Not like I expected Daemon to care I wasn’t feeling well.
He only cared about himself and his sister.
That’s not true, whispered an insidious, annoying voice in my head. But maybe that voice was correct. He had healed me when he could’ve left me to die and I had heard his thoughts, heard him begging me not to leave him.
Either way, I had to swallow the urge to puke and go for a fun jog. Some sixth sense knew this wasn’t going to end well.
Chapter 2
I lasted twenty minutes.
With the uneven terrain of the woods, the brisk November wind, and the boy next to me, I couldn’t do it. Leaving him halfway to the lake, I speed walked all the way back to the house. Daemon called out to me a couple of times, but I ignored him. Within a minute of reaching my bathroom, I threw up—the clutching-the-toilet, on-my-knees, tears-streaming-down-my-face kind of hurling. It was so bad I woke up Mom.
She hurried into the bathroom, pulling my hair back. “How long have you been feeling sick, honey? A few hours, all day, or just now?”
Mom—ever the nurse. “On and off all day,” I moaned, resting my head against the tub.
Tsking under her breath, she placed her hand against my forehead. “Honey, you’re burning up.” She grabbed a towel and ran it under the tap. “I should probably call in to work—”
“No, I’m okay.” I took the towel from her, pressing it against my forehead. The coolness was wonderful. “It’s just the flu. And I feel better already.”
Mom clucked over me until I got up and took a shower. Changing into a long sleep shirt took an absurd amount of time. The room did a Tilt-a-Whirl on me as I climbed under the covers, and I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for Mom to return.
“Here’s your phone and some water.” She placed both on the table and sat beside me. “Open up.” Prying one eye open, I saw a thermometer shoved at my face. I obediently opened my mouth. “Depending on how high your temperature is, we will determine if I’m staying home,” she told me. “It’s probably just the flu, but…”
“Mmm,” I groaned.
She gave me a bland look and waited until the thing beeped. “One hundred and one. I want you to take this.” Pausing, she handed me two pills. I downed them, no questions asked. “The temp isn’t that bad, but I want you to stay in bed and rest. I’ll call and check on you before ten, okay?”
I nodded and then snuggled down. Sleep was all I needed. She folded up another damp cloth and placed it over my forehead. I closed my eyes, almost certain I was approaching stage one of a zombie infection.
A weird fog entered my brain. I slept, waking up once to check in with Mom, and then again past midnight. The night shirt was damp, clinging to my feverish skin. I went to push the blankets off and noticed they were across the room, covering my cluttered computer desk.
Cold sweat dotted my forehead as I sat up. My thumping heart echoed in my head, heavy and erratic. Two beats at once, it seemed. My skin felt stretched tight over my muscles—hot and prickly. I stood, and the room spun.
I was so hot, burning up from the inside. My insides felt as if they’d melted into goo. My thoughts ran into one another, a never-ending train of nonsense. All I knew was that I needed to cool down.
The door to the hallway swung open, beckoning me. I didn’t know where I was going, but I stumbled down the hall and then downstairs. The front door was like a beacon, promising relief. It would be cold outside. Then I would be cold.
But it wasn’t enough.
I stood on the porch, the wind blowing my damp shirt and hair back. Stars lined the night sky, intensely bright. I lowered my gaze and the trees lining the road shifted colors. Yellow. Gold. Red. Then they turned a muted shade of brown.
I was dreaming, I realized.
In a daze, I stepped off the porch. Pieces of gravel poked at my feet, but I kept walking, the moonlight leading the way. Several times the world felt like it turned upside down, but I pushed on.
It didn’t take me long to reach the lake. Under the pale light, the onyx-colored water rippled. I moved forward, stopping when my toes sunk through loose dirt. Prickling heat scorched my skin as I stood there. Burning. Sweltering.
“Kat?”
Slowly, I turned. Wind whipped around me as I stared at the apparition. Moonlight sliced his face in shadows, reflecting in his wide, bright eyes. He couldn’t be real.
“What are you doing, Kitten?” Daemon asked.
He seemed fuzzy. Daemon was never fuzzy. Fast and blurry sometimes, yes, but never fuzzy. “I…I need to cool down.”