My heart sped up as I remembered feeling Daemon, seeing him in his true form, knowing he’d seen me, but then he’d disappeared and . . . and Dawson had hit me with a blast from the Source. Why would he have done that? Better yet, why hadn’t Daemon come to me?
In the furthest reaches of my consciousness, there was an insidious whisper that spelled out the answer. Luc and Archer had suspected as much, but I couldn’t let myself believe that they had been right and that our greatest fear had come true.
Just thinking that Daemon could be different now, could be one of them—whatever they actually were—made it feel like a fist had seized my heart.
Taking a deep breath, I blinked my eyes open and immediately sucked in a startled breath, jackknifing up so fast my head felt like it would fall off my shoulders.
Two emerald-colored eyes stared back into mine, framed with heavy black lashes. All at once I was tossed back to last summer, the morning after I’d discovered Daemon Black wasn’t quite human—when he’d frozen time, stopping a truck from turning me into roadkill. I’d woken up to find Dee staring at me.
Just like now.
Perched on the foot of the bed, Dee sat with her legs drawn to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. A curtain of dark hair fell over her shoulders in thick curls. To this day, she was probably the most beautiful girl I’d seen in real life, just like Ash, but Ash . . . she was no longer with us.
But Dee was here.
Relief loosened the tense muscles in my back as I stared at her, at the girl who had become my best friend, was still my best friend even after the tragedy with Adam. Dee was here and that had to mean something good, something great. I started to move toward her, letting the blanket fall to my waist, but I stilled.
Dee stared at me, unblinking, the same way she had that morning. But something was off about her.
Throat dry, I swallowed. “Dee?”
One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. “Katy?”
Unease rose at the sound of her voice. It was different, colder and flat. Instinct warned that I stay back, even though that didn’t make sense to me.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever wake up,” she said, loosening her arms from around her legs. “You sleep like the dead.”
I blinked slowly, glancing around the room. I didn’t recognize the green walls or the framed photos of breathtaking landscapes. None of the furniture looked familiar.
Neither did Dee.
Pulling my legs up, away from her, I tried to swallow again as I glanced at a closed door near a large oak dresser. “I’m . . . I’m so thirsty.”
“So?”
My gaze bounced back to her, reacting to the sharpness in her tone.
“What?” Her eyes rolled as she unfolded her long, slender legs. “You expect me to fetch you a drink?” She laughed, and my eyes widened at the strangeness of the sound. “Yeah, think again. You’re not going to die of thirst anytime soon.”
Dumbfounded by her attitude, all I could do was stare at her as she stood and smoothed her hands down the sides of dark denim–clad thighs. Maybe I had really damaged my brain back in the market or woken up in an alternate universe where sweet Dee had turned into bitchy Dee.
She faced me, her eyes narrowing in a way that reminded me of the woman in the grocery store after the Luxen had snatched her body. “You smell like blood and sweat.”
My brows shot up my forehead.
“It’s kind of repulsive.” She paused, her nose wrinkling. “Just saying.”
Oookay. I slumped back against the headboard. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me?” Dee laughed again. “For once, there’s nothing wrong with me.”
I stared at her. “I . . . I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do. You’re not stupid. And you know what else you’re not?”
“What?” I whispered.
Dee’s lips curled into a cruel, almost mocking smile that transferred her beauty into something venomous. “You’re also—”
She launched toward me, her hand rising, and I reacted without thinking. My right arm snapped up, and I caught her wrist before her palm connected with my cheek.
“You’re also not weak,” she said, easily pulling her arm free from my grasp. Backing up, she placed her hands on her slender hips. “So you can continue to sit there and look at me like you’re half stupid, but we don’t have a lot of time to play catch-up, especially since it appears Daemon healed you.”
Shaken by her attitude and the realization that I had been blasted with the Source twice and I probably should be concerned by that, I glanced down at my hand. Creases of dried blood marred my palm. I reached back to my left shoulder. The shirt was burned and the flesh tender, but it was in one piece.
I lifted my gaze. “He . . . he was here?”
“Was.”
My heart turned over heavily, and then I moved. Forget Dee and her bitchiness or the fact that I apparently smelled. I needed to see Daemon. Flipping off the blanket, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. No shoes. No socks. What the? Didn’t matter. “Where is he now?”
“I really don’t know.” Sighing, she pulled back the curtain covering the one window and stared out. “But the last I saw, he was heading into one of the bedrooms.” The curtain slipped from her fingers, drifting back into place as she faced me with a chilling smile. “Not alone.”
I stilled.
“Sadi was following him. Something that she’s quickly made a habit of doing. She’s probably in the process of attempting to molest him.” She paused, tapping her finger on her chin. “Then again, I don’t think it’s really molesting when it’s wanted.”