Dawson turned, and I could feel his shrewd gaze on my back. “You need to get control of yourself, brother.”
I stopped in front of the closed doors and looked at him over my shoulder.
He shook his head. “I’m—”
“Don’t,” I warned.
Dawson’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when they reopened, he was staring at the closed doors, nearly devastated. “How much longer?” he whispered.
Real fear punched me in the gut. It was too much. I knew his defenses were down and he had been put in a bad position. He didn’t have any other choice. “I don’t know, because . . .”
I didn’t have to elaborate. Understanding dawned on his face. “Dee . . .”
My eyes met and held his, and there was nothing else to be said. Facing forward, I pushed open the door, and the constant hum banging off my skull grew stronger as I entered the wide, circular office.
Newcomers were in the room, but it was the one in the seat with his back turned to me who mattered, the one we’d been drawn to the moment they’d shown up at the cabin.
He was sitting in a leather chair, watching a big flat screen on the wall. It was a local TV news station broadcasting images of downtown Coeur d’Alene. Totally different place than it had been three days ago. Smoke billowed from buildings. Fire covered the west like a burning sunset. The streets were a mess. Complete war zone.
“Look at them,” he said, his voice carrying a strange lilt as he navigated the new language. “Scurrying around on the ground aimlessly.”
Looked like half of the humans were looting an electronics store.
“They’re so helpless, unorganized. Inferior.” His laugh was deep, almost infectious. “This will be the easiest planet for us to dominate.”
It still amazed me that they’d been out there this whole time, generation after generation since the destruction of our planet, holed up in some godforsaken universe that was apparently not as comfy as Earth.
He shook his head, almost in wonder, as the screen flipped to images of tanks rolling into the city. He laughed again. “They can’t defend themselves.”
Another newcomer, a tall redhead dressed in a tight black skirt and pressed white shirt, cleared her throat. Her name was Sadi, which was fitting, because I referred to her as Sadi the sadist.
She didn’t seem to mind, because in the short time I had known her, the nickname was well earned, and the only other thing I did know about her was that her gaze was usually attached to my ass.
“Actually, they do have weapons,” she said.
“Not enough, my dear. This is happening in some of the largest cities in every state, in every country. Let them have their little weapons. We may lose a few, but those losses will not impact our initiative.” The chair wheeled around, and the muscles along my back tensed. The human form he’d chosen was that of a trim male in his early forties, with dark brown hair parted neatly and a wide, perfectly straight white smile.
He’d taken the form of the mayor of the city, and he liked to be called by the dead human’s name: Rolland Slone. Sort of weird. “Our goal will still be reached. Isn’t that right, Daemon Black?”
I met his stare. “I really don’t think they’ll be able to stop you.”
“Of course not.” His fingers steepled under his chin. “I hear you brought something with you?”
He posed it as a question, but the answer was already known. I nodded.
Sadi’s body angled toward mine with interest as her bright teal gaze lit up, and by the wall, the other one stirred.
“A female?” asked Sadi, who must’ve picked up the fleeting image that had flickered through my thoughts.
“The last time I checked, yes.” I smiled when her eyes narrowed. “But I’m still not convinced you’re rocking all the right girl parts.”
Sadi’s fingers straightened at her sides. “You want to check that out?”
I smirked. “Nah, I think I’ll pass on that.”
Rolland chuckled as he hooked one knee over the other. “This female. She’s not exactly human, is she?”
Sadi pulled her attention from me when I shook my head. A muscle or a nerve or something else equally annoying started to twitch under my eye. “No. She’s not.”
His hands rested in his lap, one folded on top of the other. “What is she exactly?”
“A mutant,” answered Dee as she strode into the room, her long, dark curls spreading out behind her. A sweet smile formed on her lips as she looked at Rolland. “Actually, she was mutated by my brother.”
“Which one?” asked Rolland.
“This one.” Dee nodded at me as she popped her hands on her hips. “He healed her about a year ago. The girl is a hybrid.”
Eyes flicked back to mine. “Were you trying to hide that from us, Daemon?”
“Did I really get a chance to answer that question?”
“True,” Rolland murmured, eyeing me closely. “You’re a hard one to read, Daemon. Not like your lovely sister here.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I shrugged. “I like to think I’m an open book.”
“Out of all of us, he’s always had little use for humans,” Dee said.
Rolland’s brows rose. “Except for this girl, I imagine.”
“Except for her.” Guess Dee was now my own personal speaker. “Daemon was in love with her.”