A frosty air had developed between Daemon and me, and no matter how many times I tried to start up a conversation about our relationship, he was quick to shut me down. My heart ached.
Even though he didn’t stop the training sessions and rarely missed them, he was still dead set against them. Most of our time alone consisted of him trying to convince me that Blake was no good. That there was something inherently wrong with the boy, other than the fact he was a hybrid. Like me.
But as the weeks passed and the DOD didn’t storm the house for me, I chalked it up to Daemon’s rightful paranoia. He had reason not to trust the guy. Given what happened with Dawson and Bethany, he was leery of all humans.
And Blake did his best to handle Daemon. I had to give it to him. Not many people would keep coming back, especially considering I sucked butt at the whole ability thing and Daemon made him feel less than welcome. Blake was patient and supportive, while Daemon was the pissy pink elephant in the room with the bad attitude.
All the training after school affected any and all social life. Everyone knew that Blake and I were hanging out. No one, not even Dee, realized that Daemon was there, too. Since she was spending all of her time over at Adam’s, she didn’t know where Daemon was or what he was doing. So Carissa and Lesa believed that Blake and I were dating, and I’d given up on trying to convince them otherwise. And it blew, because they thought I was so wrapped up in him that nothing else mattered. Without even doing it, I’d turned into one of those girls whose life ceases to exist outside of her boyfriend.
And I didn’t even have a boyfriend.
Their detailed attempts to draw me back into their world were incessant, but each time Dee wanted to take a shopping trip or Lesa wanted to grab something to eat after school, I had to turn them down.
My evenings were all about training. There was no time for reading. No time for my blog. Those things I once spent all my free time doing were now pushed to the side.
I always asked Blake the same question before we got started. “Have you seen any Arum?”
The answer was always the same. “No.”
And then Daemon would show up and things usually got crazy at some point. Blake would try to teach me while ignoring the homicidal alien taking up way too much room.
“Technically, whenever we use our abilities, we are sending a piece of ourselves,” he explained. “Like if I want to pick something up, a part of me is doing that as an extension of me. It’s why using our powers weakens us.”
That really made no sense to me, but I nodded. Daemon rolled his eyes.
Blake laughed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Nope.” I smiled.
“All right, back to the arms, then.” His fingers slipped over the curve of my shoulders, and the crazy began.
Daemon was up and off the couch in a nanosecond, forcing Blake to back away. I took a deep, patient breath and faced the alien.
He glared Blake into submission. “I think I can help her with this.”
Sitting on the arm of the couch, Blake waved his hand. “Sure. Whatever. She’s all yours.”
Daemon grinned. “That she is.”
My hand was itching to connect with his face. “I am not yours.” A small part of me wanted him to deny my words, though.
“Shush it,” he said, walking up to me.
“How about I shush it right up your—”
“Kitten, your language is so unladylike.” He stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Admittedly, the static charge from his touch was much more powerful…and tempting. He leaned in, his cheek against my hair. “Ben over there is on to something. Whenever we use our ability—tap into the Source—we are sending a part of us to do it. It’s like an extension of our physical form.”
Daemon was making just as much sense as Blake, but I went along with it.
“Picture having hundreds of arms.”
I did as he instructed. In my head, I imagined I looked like that Hindu goddess. I giggled.
“Katy.” Blake sighed.
“Sorry.”
“Now take those arms and make them transparent in your mind.” Daemon paused. “You can see those arms; see the books all over the living room. Can you? I know you know where each and every one is placed.”
Knowing that if I spoke, I’d break my concentration, I nodded.
“Okay. Good.” His fingers tightened. “Now I want you to turn those arms into light. An intense, bright light.”
“Like…your light?”
“Yes.”
I took another breath and pictured my Hindu arms as long, slender ribbons of light. Yeah, I looked ridiculous.
“Do you see it?” he asked softly. “And do you believe it?”
Pausing before I answered, I worked really hard to believe what I was seeing. The arms of blinding white light were mine. Like Daemon and Blake had said, they were extensions of my being. I imagined each of those hands picking up the books scattered about.
“Open your eyes,” Blake instructed.
When I did, books floated around the room. I moved them to the coffee table, stacking them in alphabetic order without laying a finger on them. A heady thrill went through me. Finally! Ecstatic, I almost started jumping and squealing.
Daemon let go, his smile an odd mixture of pride and something much more. It tugged at my heart. So much so that I had to look away, and my gaze collided with Blake’s.
He grinned at me, and I grinned back. “I actually did something.”
“You did.” He stood. “And it was pretty damn good. Nice work.”