Origin (Lux 4)

She paled and several moments passed. “While we were heading here, Luc said that you…that Blake is dead. Is that true?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Archer must’ve told him. “Blake’s dead.” I stood, tugging my hair back. “This isn’t something I want to talk about—not any of the stuff that happened there. I’m sorry. I know you’re just concerned. But it’s not something I want to think about. It screws with my head.”

“Okay. But if you ever do, you know I’m here for you, right?” I nodded, and Dee fixed a bright smile across her face. “So let’s move on to better stuff. Like that fine-looking specimen of a man who came in with you—the one with the military cut?”

“Archer?”

“Yes. He’s hot. And I’d spell that H-A-W-T.”

I busted out laughing, and once I did I couldn’t stop. Tears tracked down my face while she watched, perplexed. “What?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry.” I wiped at my face with my fingers and plopped back down beside her. “It’s just that I’m positive Daemon would stroke out if he heard that.”

She scowled. “Daemon would stroke out if I showed interest in any kind.”

“Well, Archer is different,” I started slowly.

“Why? Because he’s older? He can’t be that much older, and besides, he’s obviously a good guy. He risked his life to help you guys. But there is something different that I’m picking up on from him. Probably it’s the whole military vibe.”

I figured it was time to drop the bomb. “Archer isn’t human, Dee.”

Her frown deepened. “So he’s a hybrid? Makes sense.”

“Uh, no. He’s, well, he’s something different. He’s what they call an origin—he’s a kid of a Luxen and a hybrid.”

After that sunk in, she shrugged. “So? I’m an alien. I’m not judgmental.”

I smiled at that, glad she was showing interest in a guy after Adam. “Well, there’s one more thing. I’d be careful of what you think around him.”

“Why?”

“The origins have some freaky abilities,” I explained, watching her eyes widen into saucers. “He can read your mind without you even knowing.”

Dee’s face went from pale to bright cherry. “Oh God.”

“What?”

She smacked her hands over her face. “Well, the whole time we were downstairs, I was so picturing him naked.”

…

After changing into an old terry-cloth tube dress that passed the show-no-scars test, I joined Dee and everyone downstairs. A massive dinner of extravagant levels followed, consisting of juicy fruits I didn’t even know existed, tangy and sweet meats, and a salad that filled the biggest bowl I’d ever seen. I ate more than I’d thought humanly possible, even some of the grilled meat off Daemon’s plate. Bethany had joined us, and she had hugged me the moment we crossed paths. Other than looking utterly worn out, she seemed fine, and her appetite rivaled my own.

Daemon nudged his plate over to me with his finger. “You’re going to eat Lyla out of house and home.”

Shrugging, I picked up another cube from his shish kebab and popped it into my mouth. “It’s been so long since I had food that wasn’t bland and served on a plastic tray.”

He winced, and I immediately regretted saying that. “I—”

“Eat as much as you want,” he said, glancing away. A muscle began to pulse in his jaw.

Then he piled more skewers on my plate, plus a handful of grapes and roasted pork loin, so much food that if I ate all of it, they’d have to roll me out of there. My gaze flicked away, meeting Dawson’s. He looked…he just looked sad.

I reached under the table and placed my hand on Daemon’s knee, giving it a squeeze. His head swiveled toward me, a deep brown curl falling across his forehead. I smiled for him, and it seemed to go a long way, because he relaxed once more.

And I ate as much food as I could stomach, knowing that it did something for Daemon. What it did exactly, I wasn’t sure, but by the end of the dinner, he was being his usual charming and douchey self.

Our group moved outside after dinner. Daemon stretched out his happy ass on one of the white-cushioned lounge chairs, and I sat by his legs. The talk was light, what everyone needed. Luc and Paris joined us, as did Archer. Even Ash and Andrew weren’t their normal antisocial selves.

Well, they really didn’t talk to me, but they chimed in whenever Daemon or Dawson or Matthew made a comment. I didn’t say much, mainly because I was busy paying attention to Bethany and Dawson.

They were just too adorable.

Sharing a chair, Beth sat in Dawson’s lap, her cheek nestled under his chin. He continuously moved his hand up and down her back. Every so often, he’d murmur something in her ear, and she’d smile or laugh quietly.

When I wasn’t watching them, I was keeping track of Dee.

Throughout the evening, she crept closer…and closer to where Archer sat chatting with Lyla. I was counting the minutes until Daemon noticed.

It took twenty.

“Dee,” he called out. “Why don’t you go get me a drink?”

His sister froze halfway between the patio table and the fire pit. Her luminous eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I’m thirsty. I think you should be a nice sister and get a drink for your poor brother.”

Twisting at my waist, I shot Daemon a dirty look. He raised his brows at me and folded his hands behind his head. I turned back to Dee. “Don’t you dare get him a drink.”