Please don’t say anything. Please. I kept thinking the words over and over, hoping he was peeping in my head at the moment.

Matthew glanced back at Archer, brows furrowed. “You okay, bud?”

Shaking his head, Archer pivoted on his heel and muttered, “Whatever.”

“I know you’re butt sore about this, Matthew. We’re sorry. We’ll never do it again.” Daemon reached back, finding my hand. He started forward. “And you can yell at us all you want in about…five or so hours.”

Matthew folded his arms. “What are you up to?”

Sliding past him, Daemon cast him a cheeky grin. “It’s not what. More like who.” I smacked his back, which was ignored. “So can your epic lecture hold off for a little while?”

Matthew really wasn’t given a chance to say any more. We breezed out of the kitchen and through a purposeless room with lots of statues and a table in the middle. Dee’s and Ash’s voices echoed from another room.

“We’d better hurry,” Daemon said, “or we’ll never get away.”

Though I was eager to spend some quality time with Dee, I knew why we were hurrying. Halfway up the stairs, Daemon turned and wrapped his arm under my knees, picking me up.

Biting back on the giggles, I looped my arms around his neck. “That’s not necessary.”

“Totally is,” he said, and then made like an alien. Within seconds, he was placing my feet on the floor of the bedroom and closing the door behind us.

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Clothing didn’t stay on very long. Things were fast and tumultuous at first. He spun around, backing me up until I hit the door, his large body crowding mine. There was something different about what was happening. It seemed truer in its nature, as if that funny piece of paper that was now lying on the floor changed everything, and maybe it did. My legs were wrapped around his hips, and everything moved at a fevered pitch. I told him that I loved him. I showed him that I loved him. And he did the same. We finally made it to the bed, and things were sweet and tender then.

Hours passed, probably a little more than the five that Daemon had promised Matthew. No one had interrupted us, which was surprising. I was mighty comfortable in his arms, my cheek resting against his chest. I know it might sound stupid, but I loved listening to his heartbeat.

Daemon played with my hair, twisting strands around his fingers while we talked about anything and everything that had nothing to do with the immediate future and everything to do with the one we hoped for—the one where we were in college, we had jobs.

We had a life.

It was good, like cleansing the soul in a way.

Then my stomach grumbled like Godzilla.

Daemon chuckled. “Okay. We’ve got to get some food in there before you start gnawing on me.”

“Too late,” I said, nipping at his lower lip. He made that sexy sound in his throat, the kind that led to things that would take up another couple of hours. I forced myself to put some distance between us. “We need to go downstairs.”

“So you can eat?” He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He looked adorably disheveled.

“Yeah, but we also need to find out what everyone is doing.” Reality was a bit sobering. “We need to figure out what we’re doing.”

“I know.” He bent over the edge of the bed and picked up my shirt. He tossed it to me. “But there better be food involved.”

Thank God there was. Dee was in the kitchen making a late lunch—or was it an early dinner?—consisting of cold cuts. Daemon headed off toward the sound of his brother’s voice, and I sidled up to Dee.

“Can I help?” I asked, rocking back.

She glanced at me. “I’m almost done. What kind do you want? Ham? Turkey?”

“Ham, pretty please.” I grinned. “Daemon probably wants ham, too. And I can make them if you haven’t.”

“Daemon wants anything he can consume.” She reached up, grabbing a paper plate. I thought it was kind of funny that this house even had paper plates in it. As she slapped two ham sandwiches on it, a burst of loud, male laughter caused her to glance over her shoulder. She looked relieved.

“What?” I asked, glancing back to the hall Daemon had disappeared down.

“I don’t know.” A small smile appeared. “I’m just surprised. Archer is in that room. I figured there’d be yelling instead of laughter.”

“Daemon is just…you know, a bit overprotective when it comes to you.”

His sister laughed. “A bit?”

“Okay. A lot. It’s not against Archer. He’s actually a really good guy. He helped me—helped us—while we were with Daedalus, but he’s older, he’s different, and he—”

“Has a penis?” Dee supplied. “Because I think that’s Daemon’s main problem.”

Giggling, I grabbed two cans of soda. “Yeah, you’re probably right. So have you been talking to him?”

She shrugged. “Not much. He’s not very talkative.”

“He’s a guy of few words.” I leaned my hip against the counter. “And he hasn’t been exposed to a lot. So he’s probably just taking all of this in.”

She gave a little shake of her head. “It’s just insane and horrible what they’re doing to people. And there’s more, right? I wish there was something we could do.”

I thought about the hybrids I’d seen and the origins we let loose. Could some of them have escaped? Setting the cans aside, I sighed. “There’s so much wrong with so much.”




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