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“Everything?” When I nodded, the rosy color in her cheeks disappeared, and she quickly scuttled out of my lap. She settled beside me, her gaze straight ahead. Several moments passed, and she took a deep breath. “I’m…glad you’re here, but I wish you weren’t.”

“I know.” I didn’t take offense to that statement.

She tucked her hair back. “Daemon, I…”

I placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her face back to mine. “I know,” I said again, searching her eyes. “I saw some of the stuff, and they told me about—”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she said quickly, sliding her hands over her bent knees.

Concern rose inside me, but I forced a smile. “Okay. That’s okay.” I slid my arm back around her shoulders, tugging her closer. There was no resistance. She melted into my side, curling her fingers into my shirt. I kissed her forehead. I kept my voice low. “I’m going to get us out of this.”

Her hand balled around my shirt as she lifted her head. “How?” she whispered.

I leaned over, pressing close to her ear. “Trust me. I’m sure they’re watching us, and I don’t want to give them any reason to separate us right now.”

She nodded in understanding, but her mouth grew tense. “Have you seen what they’ve been doing here?”

I shook my head, and she took a deep breath. In hushed tones, she told me about the sick humans they were treating, the Luxen and the hybrids. As we talked, we stretched out on the bed, facing each other. I could tell she was skating over a lot of stuff. For one thing, she didn’t talk about anything she’d been doing or how she got those bruises. I figured it had to do with Blake and that was why she was mum on the topic, but she did mention a little girl named Lori who was dying from cancer. A pinched look appeared when she talked about her. Kat hadn’t smiled once. The knowledge nagged at me, threatening to ruin the reunion.

“They said that there are bad Luxen out there,” she said. “That it’s why they have me here, to learn how to fight against them.”

“What?”

She tensed. “They said that there were thousands of Luxen who wanted to harm humans and that more would be coming. I’m guessing they didn’t say anything like that to you?”

“No.” I almost laughed, but then I remembered what Ethan had said. There was no way that could’ve had anything to do with what she was saying. Or could it? “They told me they want more hybrids.” A troubled look crossed her face, and I wished I hadn’t said that. “What kind of cancer does Lori have?” I asked, running my hand up her arm. I hadn’t stopped touching her. Not once since I’d entered the room.

The tips of her fingers were resting on my chin, and we were as close as we could be that would seem appropriate, considering we had eyes on us. “Same kind of cancer my dad had.”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Her fingers followed the curve of my jaw. “I only saw her once, but she’s not doing too well. They’re giving her some kind of treatment they’re getting from the Luxen and hybrids. They call it LH-11.”

“LH-11?”

She nodded and then frowned. “What?”

Holy crap, that was what Luc wanted. Which begged the question, what the hell did Luc want with a serum that Daedalus was using on sick humans? Her frown deepened, and I bridged the insignificant space between us, keeping my voice low. “I’ll tell you later.”

Understanding flared, and she brought her leg up a little so it rested against mine. My breath caught, and a different kind of awareness crept into Kat’s eyes. She bit down on her lower lip, and I fought back a groan.

That pretty color edged into her cheeks again, so not helping the situation. I brought my hand up her arm, senses flaring as she shivered. “You know what I’d give for some privacy right about now?”

Her lashes lowered. “You’re terrible.”

“I am.”

Her expression clouded over. “I feel like there’s a big clock hanging over us right now, like we’re running out of time.”

We probably were. “Don’t think about it.”

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

There was a pause, and I cupped her cheek, smoothing my thumb over the delicate bone. Several moments passed.

“Did you see my mom at all?”

“No.” I wanted to tell her why, and tell her more, but divulging any information at this point was a risk. I had an idea, though. I could take my true form and talk to her that way, but I doubted the powers that be would appreciate that. I wasn’t willing to risk it at this moment. “But Dee has been keeping an eye on her.”

Kat kept her eyes closed. “I miss my mom,” she whispered, and my heart cracked. “I really miss her.”

I didn’t know what to say, and what could I say? I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it. So as I searched for a distraction, I let myself get reacquainted with the angles of her face, the graceful column of her neck, and the slope of her shoulders. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Several moments passed before she spoke. “I’ve always wanted a Mogwai.”

“What?”

Kat’s lashes still fanned her cheeks, but she was finally smiling, and some of the pressure eased off my chest. “You’ve seen Gremlins, right? Remember Gizmo?” When I nodded, she laughed. The sound was hoarse, as if she hadn’t laughed in a while. Which I figured she hadn’t. “Mom let me watch it when I was a kid, and I was obsessed with Gizmo. I wanted one more than I wanted anything in the world. I even promised Mom that I wouldn’t feed it after midnight or get it wet.”

I rested my chin atop her head and grinned at the image of the little brown and white furball-sprouting pods. “I don’t know.”

“What?” She burrowed closer, tucking her fingers against the collar of my shirt.

Throwing my arm around her waist, I took what felt like the first real breath in weeks. “If I had a Mogwai, I’d totally feed it after midnight. That Mohawk gremlin was a badass.”

She laughed again, the sound tinkling inside me, and I felt about a thousand pounds lighter. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she said. “You’d totally bond with the gremlin.”

“What can I say? It’s my sparkling personality.”

Chapter 11

Katy

Part of me still believed I was dreaming. I would wake up and Daemon would be gone. I’d be alone with my thoughts, haunted by what I had done. Fear and shame kept me from telling him about Blake. Killing Will had been one thing. An act of self-defense, and the bastard had still managed to shoot me, but Blake? That had been an act of anger and nothing else.

How could Daemon look at me the same, knowing I was a murderer? Because that was what I had done—I had murdered Blake.

“You with me?” he asked.

“Yes.” Pushing away the troubling thoughts, I touched him. Honestly, I kept touching him, reminding myself that he was really there. I thought he was doing the same thing, but he had always been the touchy type, something I loved about him. I wanted more. There was a desperate urge to lose myself in him, in a way I’d only ever been able to do with Daemon.

I traced his lower lip with the pad of my finger. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his eyes brightened. My heart did a funny little cartwheel, and he closed those beautiful eyes, face tensing. I started to pull my hand back.

He caught my wrist. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you…” I trailed off, not sure of how to explain it.

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “I can deal. Can you?”

“Yes.” Not really, I admitted to myself. I wanted to climb into him. I wanted nothing between us. I wanted him. But shenanigans of the fun and naughty kind weren’t appropriate given the situation, and exhibitionism wasn’t something I wanted to indulge in. So I settled for the next best thing. I threaded my fingers through his. “I feel bad that I’m happy you’re here.”

“Don’t be.” His eyes opened, and the pupils shone like diamonds. “I honestly don’t want to be anyplace else.”

I snorted. “Really?”

“Really.” He kissed me softly and quickly pulled back. “Sounds crazy but it’s true.”

I wanted to ask him how he planned on getting us out of here. There had to be a plan. Hopefully. I couldn’t imagine that he busted up in Daedalus and hadn’t thought about a way out. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been thinking about how to escape. There was just no foreseeable escape route. I licked my lips. Daemon’s eyes flared.

“What if…?” I swallowed, keeping my voice low. “What if this is our future?”

“No.” The arm around my waist drew me forward, and an instant later I was pressed against his front. His mouth moved against the sensitive spot under my ear as he spoke in a low whisper. “This isn’t our future, Kitten. I promise you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Memories of being this close to him hadn’t done the real thing any justice. The hardness of his chest against mine scrambled my thoughts, but it was his words that flooded my body with warmth. Daemon never promised something he didn’t hold to.

Fitting my head in the space between his neck and shoulder, I inhaled the smell of soap and the outdoorsy scent that was uniquely his. “Say it,” I whispered.

His hand slid up my spine, leaving a wake of shivers. “Say what, Kitten?”

“You know.”

He rubbed his chin in my hair. “I love…my car, Dolly.”

My lips cracked into a tiny grimace. “That’s not it.”

“Oh.” His voice dripped innocence. “I know. I love Ghost Investigators.”

“You’re such a douche.”

He laughed softly. “But you love me.”

“I do.” I pressed a kiss against his shoulder.

There was a pause, and I felt his heart rate kick up. Mine quickly matched his. “I love you,” he said, voice gruff. “I love you more than anything.”

I let myself rest against him, probably relaxing for the first time since I’d gotten there. It wasn’t that I felt stronger because he was there, though in a way I was. But it was because I now had someone on my side, someone who had my back. I wasn’t alone in this, and if it had been the other way around, I would’ve done the same thing he’d done. I doubted—

The door to the cell opened suddenly, and Daemon stiffened just like I did. Over his shoulder I saw Sergeant Dasher and Nancy Husher. Behind the incredibly douchetastic duo was Archer and another guard.

“Are we interrupting?” Nancy asked.

Daemon snorted. “No. We were just saying how sad we were that you guys weren’t visiting us.”

Nancy clasped her hands. In her black pantsuit, she looked like a walking ad for women who hate color. “For some reason I doubt that.”

My grip on the front of Daemon’s shirt tightened as my eyes bounced to the sergeant. His gaze wasn’t outright hostile, but then again, that didn’t tell me much.