Origin (Lux 4)
Page 78Dee bounced a little. “I picked the names.”
Things started to click into place. “What’s yours, Daemon?”
He flipped his billfold open and snickered. “Kaidan Rowe. Hmm. That has a nice ring to it.”
My mouth dropped open as I twisted toward Dee. “You picked names from a book!”
She giggled. “I thought you’d like that. Besides, Sweet Evil is one of my favorites, and you made me read it, so…”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed as I stared down at my picture ID. It was an identical copy of my real driver’s license, except it was a different state and address. Underneath it was my actual ID—Katy Swartz—and a few other sheets of folded paper.
Gosh, I missed my books. I wanted to hug them, love them, squeeze them.
“I found that in your bedroom,” Dee explained, tapping a finger off it. “I snuck in and got you some clothes and this before we left.”
“Thank you,” I said, sliding my new ID over my old one. Staring at both was going to give me an identity crisis.
“So, wait, my new name is from one of those books?” Daemon frowned. He also had his real ID, but there was a bank card underneath, set to Kaidan’s name. “I’m afraid to even ask what it’s about. I better not be named after any kind of magician or something lame like that.”
His eyes sparkled in interest. “Well, now that couldn’t be any more fitting.” He elbowed me, and I rolled my eyes. “Huh? Perfect, right?”
“Ew,” Dee said.
“Anyway,” Dawson said, sitting down on the arm of the couch, “I had your accounts switched over to the new names. You’ll also find high school transcripts, so even though both of you are dropouts”—he flashed a grin—“no one will be the wiser. We’re all rocking new identities.”
“How did you guys take care of all this?” I asked, completely out of the loop when it came to making IDs and faking records.
Luc smirked. “Among my various and extensive talents, making fake IDs and forging documents is one of them.”
I stared at the kid, wondering if there was anything he couldn’t do.
“Nope.” Luc winked at me.
My eyes narrowed.
Daemon thumbed through his papers. “Guys, really, thank you. This is a start.” He looked up, his jade eyes bright. “This is something.”
We stayed in the room for a little while, mainly catching up. No one talked about plans, because I really didn’t think anyone knew exactly where to go from there. Lyla gave me a tour of her beautiful home when I asked to use the restroom, which, by the way, was the size of a bedroom and had interior, glass walls.
The house had more rooms downstairs than any living person could find use for. And it seemed like Lyla didn’t have a significant other, so it was just her in this sprawling home. Dee tagged along, wrapping an arm around mine as Lyla led me through an open kitchen and sunroom.
“You’re going to love this,” Dee said. “Just wait.”
Lyla tossed a smile over her tan shoulder. “I think Dee’s spent the last week out here, trying to come up with a way to free you guys, but…we really didn’t have a plan that Matthew and I could allow them to carry out that didn’t end with them being captured.”
Filled with curiosity, I let them lead me outside, back into what I expected to be breath-stealing temperatures, but I ended up stepping into an oasis.
“Oh my God…” I breathed.
Dee rocked back on her heels. “Told you that you were going to love this. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
All I could do was nod. Numerous medium-size palms lined a quartz-embedded privacy wall, creating the perfect shaded area. The space was rectangular, with a large patio with a grill, fire pit, and various lounge chairs. Brightly colored flowers lined the paver walkway, as did bushes I’d seen in the desert but couldn’t name. The scent of jasmine and sage was strong in the air. Toward the end of the property was a pool with a natural stone deck.
It was the kind of garden you saw on TV.
“It helped.” Dee shrugged. “You know, not to think about so many things.”
That’s what I’d loved about gardening. It was the great mind-emptier. After investigating everything from the mulch to the neutral-colored pebbles, I followed Dee upstairs to the second floor. Daemon was with Dawson, Matthew, and the Thompson siblings. He needed to spend time with them. Besides, hanging out with Dee was bringing me a world of warm fuzzies.
One of the bedroom doors was closed, and I figured that was where Beth was. “How is Beth doing?” I asked.
Dee slowed down, falling in step with me. Her voice was low. “She’s okay, I guess. She doesn’t talk much.”
“Is she…?” Wow. How did I ask this question without sounding insensitive?
“Sane?” suggested Dee, but she did so without scorn. “Some days are better than others, but she’s been really tired lately, sleeping a lot.”