“I can’t believe you ate all the ice cream, Daemon!”
I cringed and stopped inside the dining room. There was no way I was going into that kitchen.
“I didn’t eat all of it.”
“Oh, so it ate itself?” Dee shrieked so loudly I thought I heard the rafters in the ceiling shake. “Did the spoon eat it? Oh wait, I know. The carton ate it.”
“Actually, I think the freezer ate it,” Daemon responded dryly.
I grinned when I heard what sounded like the empty container hitting what suspiciously sounded like flesh.
Turning, I went back into the living room and piddled around until I heard footfalls behind me.
Daemon lounged against the frame of the door that led from the dining room to the living room. I slowly took him in. His hair carelessly disheveled and the faint light from the lamp bouncing over high cheekbones. His lips curved into a half smile, and even in the simple shirt and jeans, he looked…well, beyond words.
He took up the whole room, and he wasn’t even in it.
One brow rose as he waited. “Kat?”
Mentally kicking myself, I looked away. “Did you get hit by an ice cream carton?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. And I missed that.”
“I’m sure Dee would love to do a replay for you.”
I smiled a little at that.
“Oh, you think this is funny.” Dee burst into the living room, car keys in hand. “I should be making you go to the store and get me Rocky Road, but because I like Katy and value her well-being, I’m going to get it myself.” That would mean I’d be left alone…Oh hell to the no. “Can’t Daemon go?”
Daemon smiled at me.
“No. If the Arum comes around, he’s only going to see your trace.” Dee grabbed her purse. “You need to be with Daemon. He’s stronger than me.”
My shoulders fell. “Can’t I go next door?”
“You do realize your trace can be seen from the outside?” Daemon pushed out of the doorway. “It’s your funeral, though.”
“Daemon,” Dee snapped. “This is all your fault. My ice cream is not your ice cream.”
“Ice cream must be very important,” I said.
“It is my life.” Dee swung her purse at Daemon but missed. “And you took it from me.”
Daemon rolled his eyes. “Just get going and come right back.”
“Yes, sir!” She saluted him. “You guys want anything?”
I shook my head.
Daemon did the blinking out and reappearing thing. He was now beside Dee and pulled her in for a quick hug. “Be careful.”
There was no doubt in my mind that Daemon loved and cherished his sister. He’d gladly give his life for her. The way he was always looking out for her was more than admirable. There wasn’t a good enough word for it. And it made me wish I had a sibling.
“As always.” She smiled, gave me a quick wave, and darted out the door.
“Wow. Remind me never to eat her ice cream.”
“If you do, even I wouldn’t be able to save you.” He flashed a sardonic grin. “So, Kitten, if I’m going to be your babysitter for the evening, what’s in it for me?”
My eyes immediately narrowed. “First off, I didn’t ask you to babysit me. And you made me come over here. And don’t call me Kitten.”
Daemon tipped his head back and laughed. The sound sent shivers through me, reminding me of waking up with him, my head in his lap. “Aren’t you feisty tonight?”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Still chuckling, he turned toward the kitchen. “I can believe that. Never a dull moment when you’re around.” He paused. “Are you coming or not?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Going where?”
He pushed open the kitchen door. “I’m hungry.”
“Didn’t you just eat all of the ice cream?”
“Yeah, still hungry.”
“Good Lord, aliens can eat.” I stayed put.
Daemon glanced over his broad shoulder. “I have this strong inclination that I need to keep an eye on you. Where I go you go.” He waited for me to move, and when I didn’t, his smile turned devilish. “Or I can forcibly move you.” I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know how he planned to do that. “All right, let’s go.” I shuffled past him and plopped down in a seat at the table.
Daemon grabbed a plate of leftover chicken. “Want some?”
I shook my head. Unlike them, I didn’t eat ten square meals a day.
He was quiet as he moved around the kitchen. Since the night on the rock, we hadn’t been at each other’s throats. It wasn’t like we were getting along, but it seemed like an undeclared truce existed. I had no idea what to do with him since we weren’t trying to tick each other off.
Resting my cheek on my palm, I had a hard time pulling my eyes off him. He was broad and tall, but he moved like a dancer. Each step was smooth and supple. Even the simplest movement looked like a form of art.
Then there was his face.
At that moment, he peered up from his plate. “So how are you holding up?”
I tore my eyes from him and focused on the plate of food that was already half eaten. How long had I been staring at him? This was getting ridiculous. Did the trace turn me into a walking hormone? “I’m doing okay.” He took a bite of chicken and chewed slowly. “You are. You’ve accepted all of this. I’m surprised.”
“What did you think I’d do?”