“He’s fine,” Blake said, placing the onyx on the ground. His right hand shook as our eyes met. “It started to burn. There must be a limit to my tolerance…”
Daemon stood unsteadily, and I followed. “I’m okay.” Then he said to his brother, who was eyeballing Blake like he wanted to toss him through a window, “I’m fine, Dawson.”
“How do we know this will work?” Matthew demanded. “Touching onyx is completely different than being sprayed all over with it.”
“I’ve walked out of those doors before and nothing happened. And it’s not like they’ve sprayed onyx in my face before. This has to be it.”
I remembered how he said everything he touched had been encased in the shiny jewel. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Daemon opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a glare. He wasn’t going to talk me out of this.
Picking up a glove, Blake handled the onyx differently now. He didn’t come to me but to Matthew. The same thing happened with the older Luxen. He was on his knees, gasping for air, and then it was Dawson’s turn.
It took a little longer for him, which made sense. He’d been exposed to the spray like me and had been tortured by the stuff off and on. But after about ten seconds, he went down and his brother massacred the English language.
Then it was my turn.
Squaring my shoulders, I nodded. I was ready for this, wasn’t I? Heck no. Who was I fooling? This was going to hurt.
Blake winced and moved forward, but Daemon stopped him. Using the glove, he took the onyx from him and stood in front of me.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want you to do this.”
The determined set to his jaw infuriated me. “I’m not letting him do it.”
“Then let someone else do it.” There was no way he could be the one who placed the onyx on me. “Please.” Daemon shook his head, and I wanted to punch him. “This isn’t right.”
“It’s either me or no one.”
And then I understood. He was trying to get his way. Taking a breath, I met him head-on. “Do it.”
Surprise flickered in his bottle-green eyes and then anger deepened them. “I hate this,” he said, loudly enough for only me to hear.
“I do, too.” Anxiety climbed up my throat. “Just do it.”
He didn’t look away, but I could tell he wanted to. Whatever pain I knew I was about to feel would be symbiotic. He would feel it—not the physical, but the anguish would travel to him, as if it were his own. It was the same when Daemon was in pain.
I closed my eyes, thinking that would help him. It seemed to, because maybe ten seconds later, I felt the coolness of the onyx against my hand and the roughness of his glove. Nothing happened immediately, but then it did.
A rapidly growing burn traveled across my hand and then shot up my arm. A thousand tiny pricks of pain radiated across my body. I bit down on my lip, stifling my scream. It didn’t take long after that before I hit the ground, gulping in air as I waited for the burn to ease off.
My body shuddered. “All right… Okay… Not too bad.”
“Bull,” Daemon said, hauling me onto my feet. “Kat—”
I tugged free, taking more deep breaths. “Really, I’m okay. We need to keep going.”
Daemon looked like he wanted to toss me over his shoulder and run off like a caveman, but we moved on. Over and over again, each of us touched the onyx, holding on until our body refused to cooperate. None of us increased in time, but we were just getting started.
“It’s like getting hit with a Taser,” Matthew said as he dropped a sheet of plywood over the onyx, then placed two heavy rocks on the board. It was late and all of us were twitchy. Even Blake. “Not that I’ve ever been Tased, but I image that’s how it feels.”
I wondered if there’d be any long-term effects from this. Like messed-up heart rhythms or post-traumatic stress. The one good thing that came out of this was that between the mind-blowing pain and watching other people succumb to it, I really hadn’t been capable of thinking about anything else.
As we finished up and began to limp back to the house, Blake slowed down until he was beside me. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I said nothing.
He shoved his hands into his jeans. “I liked Carissa. I wish…”
“If wishes were fishes, we’d all throw nets, right? Isn’t that what they say?” Bitterness sharpened my tone.
“Yeah, that’s what they say.” He paused. “Things are gonna get crazy at school.”
“Why do you care? You’re going to leave as soon as you get Chris. You’ll just be another one of those kids who vanished into thin air.”
He stopped, head cocked to the side. “I would stay if I could. I can’t, though.”
Frowning, I glanced ahead. Daemon had slowed down, no doubt doing his best not to physically put more distance between Blake and me. For a second, I considered asking Blake about the stone. He’d have to know, since he worked for Daedalus—still did. But it was too tricky. Blake claimed to be playing double agent. Key word: claimed.
I wrapped my arms around my waist. Overhead, the branches cracked against one another like a low, steady drum.
“I would stay,” he said again, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I—”
Daemon was there in an instant, prying Blake’s fingers off my shoulder. “Don’t touch her.”
Blake paled as he pulled his hand free and stepped back. “Dude, I wasn’t doing anything. Overprotective much?”