Simon looked like a statue, a drunk and pervy statue. “God, what a mess.” I backed up, wrapping my arms around myself. “How long will he stay like this?”
“As long as I want,” he replied. “I could leave him out here. Let the deer piss on him and the crows crap on him.”
“You can’t…do that, you know that? Right?”
Daemon shrugged.
“You need to turn him back, but first, I’d like to do something.”
Daemon cocked a brow in curiosity.
Dragging in a deep breath, which still tasted like cheap beer, mints, and Simon’s tongue, I kicked him straight between the legs. Simon didn’t react, but he’d feel it later.
“Whoa.” Daemon let out a strangled half laugh. “Maybe I should’ve killed him.” He frowned when he saw the expression on my face. He turned back to Simon and waved his hand.
The boy doubled over, cupping his hands between his legs. “Shit.”
Daemon pushed Simon back. “Get the f**k out of my face, and I swear if you so much as look at her again, it will be the last thing you do.”
Simon was three shades whiter as he wiped his hand over his bloodied nose. His eyes darted from me to Daemon. “Katy, I’m sorry—”
“Get. Out. Of. Here,” Daemon bit out, taking a threatening step forward.
Simon spun around and took off, stumbling and limping over bushes. Dead silence fell between us. Even the music seemed to have become muted. Daemon turned around slowly and stalked off. I stood there, shivering.
Daemon was going to leave me here.
I didn’t blame him. He warned me several times, and I hadn’t listened. Tears of anger and frustration burned my eyes.
But then he returned, clutching my shawl in his hands. He handed it to me, cursing under his breath. Hands shaking, I took the shawl from him and saw that his eyes were glowing. How long had they been like that? I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and intense.
“I know,” I whispered, clutching the shawl to the front of my torn dress. “Please don’t say it.”
“Say what? That I told you so?” He sounded disgusted. “Even I’m not that much of an ass. Are you okay?”
I nodded and drew in a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Daemon cursed again and then he was moving closer, dropping something warm that smelled like him over my shoulders. “Here,” he said gruffly. “Put this on. It will…cover up everything.”
I looked down. The lacy shawl did nothing to hide the ripped bodice of my dress. Flushing, I slipped my arms into his tux jacket. Tears were clogging my throat now. I was angry at Simon—at myself—and embarrassed. Once I had the jacket on, I hugged it and the shawl close. Daemon was never going to let me live this one down. Right now he might not be throwing it in my face, but there was always tomorrow.
Daemon’s fingers brushed over my cheek, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen loose behind my ear. “Come on,” he whispered.
I lifted up my head. There was an unexpected softness in his eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Now he’d be nice?
“I’m taking you home.”
This time it wasn’t an arrogant command or assumption. It was just simple words. I nodded. After the disaster that happened and the fact I figured I had another trace on me, I wasn’t going to argue. Then it struck me. “Wait.” He looked like he was ready to come through on his earlier threat and throw me over his shoulders. “Kat.”
“Won’t Simon have a trace on him, like me?”
If the thought had crossed his mind, it didn’t look like it bothered him. “He does.”
“But—”
Daemon was in my face in the blink of an eye. “It’s not my problem right now.”
Then he took my arm. His grasp wasn’t tight, but it was firm. We didn’t talk as he led me through the brisk night air toward his SUV parked near the main road. Several of the cars we passed were fogged up. Some were even moving. Every time I glanced at him, his eyes were narrowed and jaw clenched.
Guilt chewed through my insides like acid. What if the Arum were still around, and they saw the trace on Simon? Yeah, he was borderline date ra**st, but what would the Arum do to him? We couldn’t leave him out there, roaming around with a trace on him.
He let go of my arm and opened the passenger door of his SUV. I got in, wiggling the clutch’s strap off my wrist and placing it beside me. I watched him head around the car, texting on his phone.
Daemon climbed into the driver’s seat, passing me a sheltered look. “I let Dee know I was taking you home. When I got here, she said she saw you but couldn’t find you.”
Nodding, I started yanking on the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t move. All my frustration rose up, and I pulled on it hard. “Dammit!”
Daemon leaned over me and pried my fingers off. In such a small space, there wasn’t much room to move around and before I could protest, he was already tugging on the seatbelt. His jaw grazed my cheek and then his lips followed. There were quick touches, all accidental, but I found it hard to breathe nonetheless.
Daemon got the seatbelt unstuck and as he brought it across my stomach, the back of his knuckles grazed over the front of my dress. I jerked in the seat.
He lifted his head, startled. And I was just as surprised. Our mouths were nearly touching. His breath was warm and sweet. Intoxicating. His gaze dropped to my lips, and my heart started doing all kinds of crazy stuff in my chest.
Neither of us moved for what seemed like an eternity.
And then he clicked it in and returned to his seat, breathing raggedly. He clutched the steering wheel for several strained minutes while I tried to remember how important it was to take normal breaths and not gulps of air.