Daimons were near and Josie….
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I whirled, grabbing a titanium dagger off the nightstand. The handle warmed to my touch.
Her stuff was still where I’d placed it, near the front door. The chain-lock was also set. My gaze swung to the back door. In less than a second, I was throwing it open and stepping out into the night, and into a nightmare.
Two daimons had Josie pinned on the ground. A female was at her wrist and a male was on her, his face buried in her neck. Both were tagging her, feeding from her in a way meant to cause pain. And the male daimon, his body covered hers completely. All I could see was a still leg. Not moving. Nothing.
Rage like I’d never known before detonated like a nuclear bomb, becoming a metallic, bitter taste in the back of my mouth. The world tinted amber as I flew forward off the deck. Landing beside the female, I grabbed a chunk of her hair and ripped her head back, seeing right through the glamour that hid them in the mortal world.
Dark holes where eyes should’ve been met mine. Black veins twisted like snakes under ghastly pale skin. Her mouth was hanging open, revealing a row of jagged teeth covered in blood— Josie’s blood.
I slammed the titanium dagger into one of the holes, cutting off the damn wail daimons were known for before she could let it loose. They were highly allergic to anything titanium. Allergic as in a single slice-and-dice from a titanium blade took them out. As I yanked out the dagger, her face crumbled into itself and then she imploded in a shower of shimmery dust.
The male daimon reared to his feet and stumbled back a step. Josie didn’t move. Her neck was covered in blood and her sweater was torn, revealing more than that bastard ever should’ve seen.
“She tastes like a god.” He staggered, tripping over her still leg. His lips curved into a gruesome, bloody smile. The son of a bitch was high. “Bliss…”
“You’re so fucking dead,” I growled.
He dipped his chin and opened his mouth, letting out an eerie howl that was a cross between a bobcat getting run over and a screaming infant. Then the stupid fuck charged me. All hocked up on the hidden aether that must be in Josie’s blood, the daimon moved like a freight train. I dipped under his extended arm, popping up behind him. The need to make the bastard hurt, to make him pay overrode the years of training that taught Sentinels not to play with their prey. The daimon whirled on me. I was going to break his fucking neck. Then his arms. Then his legs. Then I was going to find something rusty and dull to cut his balls off. Then I would kill him. Slowly. As painfully as possible. I started to toss the dagger aside as it barreled toward me again.
A soft whimper came from behind me, echoing through my head a thousand times, louder than a gunshot or crack of thunder. For a second, a tiny moment in time, I was torn between the lure of losing myself, losing everything in the revenge, in the art of fucking payback, and the girl on the ground—the girl who needed me. With no time to spare, I snapped out of the haze of violence.
I launched forward, meeting the daimon halfway. Catching him around the neck with a hand, I held him off as my eyes locked with the soulless, black depths. “You are so very lucky.”
Then I shoved the dagger deep into its chest, yanking the blade out. I spun around before the bastard imploded into nothing.
Dropping down to the ground beside Josie, I placed the dagger within reach. I brushed her hair back from her cheek. Her face was too pale. The skin above her temple was bruising, turning red and swelling.
“What’s going on out here?”
I looked over my shoulder. An older man in slippers and a dark robe stood a few feet away, his watery eyes moving from me to Josie and coming up with gods knew what. I didn’t have time for this shit. “You didn’t see or hear any of this,” I gritted out, packing a powerful compulsion. “Just a dream. Go inside. Go back to sleep.”
The man didn’t blink. He was frozen for a second, and then he wheeled around and walked stiffly across the grass.
Heart pounding, I turned my attention back to her. Carefully moving more strands of hair out ofthe way, I got a good look at her neck. The tag wasn’t deep and blood had already stopped oozing out of the crescent-shaped bite mark. I checked her wrist. Same.
“Fuck,” I grunted, shifting so I could slide an arm under her. I lifted her up into a sitting position. Her head lolled back and I quickly adjusted her, cradling her against my chest. “Fucking mother fucker.”
She didn’t make another sound. Didn’t move.
“Come on. Open your eyes, Josie. Come on, baby, open your eyes.” I got an arm under her knees and lifted her as I stood, swiping up the dagger. My heart was still pounding. There was a weird dropping sensation in my gut. I carried her inside, my jaw aching from how hard I was grinding my teeth together. What had she been thinking going outside like that? If she were awake, I would’ve shaken some godsdamn sense into her.
But that wasn’t entirely fair.
Josie had been thrust into this world and she still had a lot of mortal traits in her. She probably hadn’t even thought once that going outside wouldn’t be safe.
I kicked the door shut as she finally stirred, moaning softly. I stopped. “Josie?”
Her features tightened, pinching as her lashes fluttered. Potent relief rushed through me as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Her gaze was a little unfocused, but her eyes were open.
“You with me?” I asked.
Her lips parted, and I saw the angry red cut on them then. Anger replaced that relief, tearing through me as an unsteady breath expelled from her. “I think…I think they bit me,” she croaked out.
“Yeah, you most definitely were chewed on,” I told her.
Her eyes shut, staying close long enough that I felt the punch of panic again, but they swept open again. “They…they were daimons, weren’t they?”
Nodding, I moved to the bathroom. “You think you can sit up?”
She cleared her throat, wincing. “Yeah. I can.” Her words were mushy.
“Good.” Carefully I set her down on the closed toilet, then placed the dagger on the edge of the sink. Her eyes were closed again and that worried me. The sweater was torn, slipping off her shoulder and revealing a lavender strap and the dainty lace covering one swell. My gaze flicked up to the bite mark as I inhaled deeply. There was something in the air, more than a metallic scent—something potent and alluring. Aether? Shit. I was loosing my mind. I couldn’t smell aether like daimons could. I could sense it, so maybe that was what I was picking up, and that made me cagey, because a yearning took root in my stomach, striking deep, making my mouth water.
Moving quickly, I tugged the sweater up. “How are you feeling?”
Her lashes lifted. “Like someone…bit me.”
“The tags aren’t deep,” I said, standing. “But you need water—fluids. Sit still.” I wasn’t sure if fluids would really help her, but I went into the room, drawing in several deep breaths as I opened up the small fridge under the TV. There was a bottle of Gatorade. Grabbing it, I went back to the bathroom, placing the bottle next to the sink.
Kneeling down, I grabbed for her arm. She flinched, recoiling, and I felt something acidic burning deep in my chest, replacing the empty craving. “Hey,” I murmured, dipping my head close to hers. “You’re okay. You’re safe, Josie. You’re all right.”
Holding my gaze, she exhaled softly. “Okay…”
I gently pushed the sleeve of her sweater up. “I’m guessing with your powers bound, it made you susceptible to their glamour—old magic that disguises them.” I reached up, grabbing a towel. I ran it under the tap. “Or maybe you’re wired like the pures. They can’t see through the glamour, either.”
She didn’t say anything as I handed over the bottle. “Drink this. It should help.”
Josie took the bottle. My attention was drawn to her fingers. The nails were dirty, broken. “I’ll be okay,” she said, taking a drink as I looked up at her from where I was crouched. Her hand shook the bottle but she didn’t drop it as she raised it to her lips again. “You know, I…I’ve never been seriously ill or injured before, even when I should’ve been.” Her gaze tracked over the room while I mopped up the blood on her arm. “Once…when I was younger, I climbed up this tree, all the way to the top.”
As I cleaned her arm, an image of a younger, smaller Josie took form. Probably all legs and arms with a headful of multicolored hair and probably loads of trouble.
“I fell out and I remembered being…in a lot of pain,” she continued as I tossed the towel and reached for a new one. “I thought I broke my leg. I was sure I broke my leg, but…by the time my grandparents got me to the hospital, I was just bruised. The doctors said I was lucky.”
It wasn’t luck. It was what she was. Dampening the other cloth, I stood, my eyes meeting hers. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t have any words.
“I’ve bled all over you,” she whispered.
I looked down. She was right. Streaks of crimson slashed across my bare chest. A lead ball settled in my gut. “It’s okay.”
Her eyes closed. Dark shadows had bloomed under them. The attack had taken its toll. I leaned in, lowering my voice so only she could hear me, and the question came out rough, strained. “Are you hurt anywhere else…that I can’t see?”
The lashes flickered up. Confusion skittered across her expression, and then understanding crept in. Muscles in my back and neck tensed. All daimons cared about was aether—was getting their next fix—and they could be dumb in that relentless pursuit. Halfs who’d been turned into daimons were far more dangerous, but all of them could be cruel and sick.
“No,” she said quietly.
Another dose of relief hit me, and I nodded. Carefully peeling the torn material aside, the lead ball in my gut expanded, feeling like I’d taken a punch in the chest.
Josie had been tagged—tagged in the same place as her— as Alex. The coincidence was more than unnerving. It blasted through me as I wiped around the bite mark. No matter who or what you were, a daimon tag scarred. Just like she… just like Alex had carried scars all over her.
My hand shook. Rawness flowed through me. I didn’t like what I was feeling, so I latched onto the anger boiling inside me like a lit furnace. “Are you too stupid to fucking live?” She drew in a sharp breath, and I felt like a fucking ass for saying it, but it needed to be said. “What were you thinking? Going outside while I was in the shower? Am I going to need to chain you to the chair from here on out?” I tossed the bloodied towel in the bathtub. Giving her palms a cursory glance, I opened the cabinet under the sink and hit jackpot—a first aid kit. It was unlikely that she’d die from some kind of infection, but with my luck, I wasn’t willing to risk it. I yanked out a packet of disinfecting wipes.
“You’re right,” she said, surprising the hell out of me. I even stopped what I was doing, standing there holding a wadded disinfecting wipe. She glanced over at the door before her tired, bruised gaze drifted back to me, and if I thought I’d been punched in the chest before, I’d been wrong. I felt it now. “I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t stay in the room. It was too quiet. I went…outside without thinking it through. It was a ‘too stupid to live’…kind of move.”
That shocked the shit right out of me. Kneeling down in front of Josie, I looked up at her. “This might sting a little.”
She nodded.
I pressed the alcohol wipe against her palm. She jerked but didn’t make a sound. I gently cleaning up the scratched skin. When I was finished, I rose so that we were at eye level. “I shouldn’t have said it like that earlier.” My voice was gruff, strange to my own ears. “You’re still operating like nothing has changed. That’s normal. It’s just…it’s a lesson you didn’t need to learn.” Straightening, I ignored the curious look she sent me. “I’ll get you another sweater.”
She stopped me by grabbing my arm. I looked back at her. “Thank you,” she said, letting go of my arm. “I…need a few minutes. I should clean up.”
I hesitated for a moment. Something uncanny and weird opened up in me—a need to comfort her. Obviously what she’d experienced had to have been traumatic as shit. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d taken a step toward her. An urge to gather her close and tell her everything was going to be okay rode me hard, which was bullshit. Everything would not be okay in the end. Not for me. And not for her. She was just a tool, a last resort against the Titans, just like she…like Alex had been a last resort.
And look what that had gotten Alex. Look at what that had gotten me.
I stopped before I reached her. I didn’t need to go down this road with her. As soon as she saw her mom, I was getting her ass to South Dakota, and then I was done. Turning away, I headed out and went to her bag, grabbing the first sweater I saw and handing it over. “Come out when you’re ready,” I said gruffly.
Then I closed the door behind me. Leaning against it, I swore as I shut my eyes. If I hadn’t sensed the daimons and gone out there, they would’ve kept tagging her. They would’ve kept on her until there was no aether left, just like the Titans would do if they got hold of her.
“Shit.”
Opening my eyes, I stared blindly at the room as I heard the water come on in the bathroom. What in the hell were daimons doing out here anyway? We were close to St. Louis, and there was a community of pures near the city, but still. It was strange they would be here. They wouldn’t have sensed me until they were damn near on top of the motel. Coincidence? I didn’t believe in that shit.
We needed to hit the road.
Reaching up, I stopped short of running my hand over my chest. The red streaks had begun to dry—her blood. That churning was back in my gut, twisting and whirling as I moved away from the door, stopping in front of a small, dusty mirror over a dresser.
I was still standing there when Josie came out, dressed in a new sweater, her hair in waves of blonde and brown around her face. Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
“Stay in here,” I said. “I need to…I need to clean up.”
Her gaze bounced around the room, not settling on me as she sat on the edge of the bed, chin ducked. “I’m staying.”
I stood there in the door to the bathroom for a moment, wanting to tell her…to tell her that I wished she’d never experienced what being tagged felt like, that she wouldn’t have to live with those scars, but those words wouldn’t form.
And those words would be pointless, because I was sure this wouldn’t be the last time she’d experience something I wished she hadn’t. It was only the beginning.
CHAPTER
14
WE WERE quiet as we got into the Porsche. We still had that remaining four-hour drive ahead of us. There was nothing that needed to be said. I’d screwed up and I could’ve died. I could’ve gotten Seth hurt. As we pulled away from the parking lot, I was glad to lose sight of the motel. I wished I could scrub the whole thing out of my head.
I quickly zoned out, beyond exhausted and still feeling the pings of residual fear darting around me like little after shocks. and I was disappointed. Utterly disappointed in myself. Seth had warned me that this world was dangerous. I believed him, but I hadn’t acted with any thought. My mind was still stuck in the world where things like daimons, gods, and Titans didn’t exist. In a world where I could walk outside and not worry about being nom-nom’d on like Toaster Strudel. That was too stupid to fucking live.
And that was a hell of a lesson to learn.
When I’d seen my neck and wrist, I hadn’t known what to think. The skin was ugly and pink, forming perfect crescent-shaped bite marks. The areas were still tender, and there was a dull ache in my head and knees. But it wasn’t the pain or the bitter taste of terror that lingered from those moments outside, but the fact I hadn’t been able to do a single thing to defend myself.
Nothing.
They were on me in seconds and I hadn’t been able to fight or anything. I doubted that I’d turn into a ninja when my abilities were unbound. And I also knew that the Titans had to be way more powerful than shades and daimons.
I was so dead.
The exhaustion got to me, and I drifted off to sleep…and I dreamt. A warm, soft touch slipped over my cheek, tucking hair back behind my ear, careful to not touch the tender skin along the side of my neck. I was dreaming a phantom touch. I had to be, because such a gentle, careful touch didn’t make sense in real life. My body unconsciously sought the caress. I leaned into it as I thought I heard my name called. The touch moved across my lower lip, stopping short of the raw spot at the corner of my lip. I liked that—a lot. Warmth traveled though me, stirring up a pleasant haze. This was a sweet dream. I could stay here forever.
The voice came again, louder this time, and then I heard, “Joe. Wake up.”
Fog lifted from my thoughts as I forced my lids to come unstuck and open, and when they did, honey-colored eyes met mine. Oh crap, I wasn’t dreaming.
And his hand was still curved around my chin, his thumb resting just below my lower lip. My breath hitched as I stared at him. Surprise flitted through me and my sluggish mind couldn’t catch up.
“You’re awake now?” he asked, tracing my lower lip with his thumb, creating a stir of hyperactive butterflies in the pit of my belly. “I can drive up and down the street again if you want to continue to nap.”
“Huh?”
A small grin appeared and those butterflies decided to invade my chest in an army of flurries. “We got to your house, but you were still sleeping, so I drove back through town,” he said, and my eyes widened. We were in Osborn? I’d slept the entire way? “We’re about a mile out now. I figured you’d want some time to get yourself together.”
That was incredibly considerate, surprisingly so, and actually