“What?”
She tensed. “They said that there were thousands of Luxen who wanted to harm humans and that more would be coming. I’m guessing they didn’t say anything like that to you?”
“No.” I almost laughed, but then I remembered what Ethan had said. There was no way that could’ve had anything to do with what she was saying. Or could it? “They told me they want more hybrids.” A troubled look crossed her face, and I wished I hadn’t said that. “What kind of cancer does Lori have?” I asked, running my hand up her arm. I hadn’t stopped touching her. Not once since I’d entered the room.
The tips of her fingers were resting on my chin, and we were as close as we could be that would seem appropriate, considering we had eyes on us. “Same kind of cancer my dad had.”
I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Her fingers followed the curve of my jaw. “I only saw her once, but she’s not doing too well. They’re giving her some kind of treatment they’re getting from the Luxen and hybrids. They call it LH-11.”
“LH-11?”
She nodded and then frowned. “What?”
Holy crap, that was what Luc wanted. Which begged the question, what the hell did Luc want with a serum that Daedalus was using on sick humans? Her frown deepened, and I bridged the insignificant space between us, keeping my voice low. “I’ll tell you later.”
Understanding flared, and she brought her leg up a little so it rested against mine. My breath caught, and a different kind of awareness crept into Kat’s eyes. She bit down on her lower lip, and I fought back a groan.
That pretty color edged into her cheeks again, so not helping the situation. I brought my hand up her arm, senses flaring as she shivered. “You know what I’d give for some privacy right about now?”
Her lashes lowered. “You’re terrible.”
“I am.”
Her expression clouded over. “I feel like there’s a big clock hanging over us right now, like we’re running out of time.”
We probably were. “Don’t think about it.”
“It’s kind of hard not to.”
There was a pause, and I cupped her cheek, smoothing my thumb over the delicate bone. Several moments passed.
“Did you see my mom at all?”
“No.” I wanted to tell her why, and tell her more, but divulging any information at this point was a risk. I had an idea, though. I could take my true form and talk to her that way, but I doubted the powers that be would appreciate that. I wasn’t willing to risk it at this moment. “But Dee has been keeping an eye on her.”
Kat kept her eyes closed. “I miss my mom,” she whispered, and my heart cracked. “I really miss her.”
I didn’t know what to say, and what could I say? I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it. So as I searched for a distraction, I let myself get reacquainted with the angles of her face, the graceful column of her neck, and the slope of her shoulders. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Several moments passed before she spoke. “I’ve always wanted a Mogwai.”
“What?”
Kat’s lashes still fanned her cheeks, but she was finally smiling, and some of the pressure eased off my chest. “You’ve seen Gremlins, right? Remember Gizmo?” When I nodded, she laughed. The sound was hoarse, as if she hadn’t laughed in a while. Which I figured she hadn’t. “Mom let me watch it when I was a kid, and I was obsessed with Gizmo. I wanted one more than I wanted anything in the world. I even promised Mom that I wouldn’t feed it after midnight or get it wet.”
I rested my chin atop her head and grinned at the image of the little brown and white furball-sprouting pods. “I don’t know.”
“What?” She burrowed closer, tucking her fingers against the collar of my shirt.
Throwing my arm around her waist, I took what felt like the first real breath in weeks. “If I had a Mogwai, I’d totally feed it after midnight. That Mohawk gremlin was a badass.”
She laughed again, the sound tinkling inside me, and I felt about a thousand pounds lighter. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she said. “You’d totally bond with the gremlin.”
“What can I say? It’s my sparkling personality.”
Chapter 11
Katy
Part of me still believed I was dreaming. I would wake up and Daemon would be gone. I’d be alone with my thoughts, haunted by what I had done. Fear and shame kept me from telling him about Blake. Killing Will had been one thing. An act of self-defense, and the bastard had still managed to shoot me, but Blake? That had been an act of anger and nothing else.
How could Daemon look at me the same, knowing I was a murderer? Because that was what I had done—I had murdered Blake.
“You with me?” he asked.
“Yes.” Pushing away the troubling thoughts, I touched him. Honestly, I kept touching him, reminding myself that he was really there. I thought he was doing the same thing, but he had always been the touchy type, something I loved about him. I wanted more. There was a desperate urge to lose myself in him, in a way I’d only ever been able to do with Daemon.
I traced his lower lip with the pad of my finger. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his eyes brightened. My heart did a funny little cartwheel, and he closed those beautiful eyes, face tensing. I started to pull my hand back.
He caught my wrist. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you…” I trailed off, not sure of how to explain it.