“What is it?” If there was one thing I’d learned, it was you don’t screw with demon intuition.
His shoulders slumped, and I could feel his aggravation. “That’s just it. I don’t know and it’s got me on edge.” A muscle feathered under his jaw.
Yikes. Not good.
I walked to him, winding my hands around his waist. “So what do we do, wait for it to find us?” I really hated being a sitting duck while something decided to stalk me.
He pressed a kiss on my head, and I breathed in the intoxicating scent of him. “You promise you’ll stay close. That you won’t do anything stupid or irrational.”
I twiddled with the material on his shirt. “When do I ever do anything like that?”
He chuckled low and under his breath. “Do you want me to make you a list?”
I glanced up at him. “I should be outraged, but…I promise.”
“That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard out of your mouth all day.”
He left shortly after my seldom swear, and that night I lay in bed thinking about what Chase had said. How there was something different wafting in the air.
Tossing and turning, I attempted to work out a kink in my back, trying to get relaxed. My little catfight with Emma was catching up to me and my sore muscles. Lying there as still as possible, with the silver comforter pulled to my chin, I cleared my thoughts. I focused on my mark and the light pulse that was always present, sometimes stronger than usual, my connection to the underworld. I still wasn’t certain how the mark worked, but I knew when it burned or tingled it meant something was going down.
And lately, there had been a constant hum flowing through the black ink that marred my hip. I’d sort of gotten used to the soft pulsating, but now…
I knew I felt it, too.
All the way to the bottom of my fuzzy knee high socks.
Something wicked was about to storm Spring Valley.
I shuddered.
Chapter 10
It was like I was living in an episode of Supernatural, except I wasn’t kissing Dean Winchester. That would have made it bearable. Chase couldn’t be Dean in this scenario. He was more like Sam with the whole part demon thing in common, but Dean was hotter. Way hotter.
So the whole idea was ridiculous, but I was sitting in history bored to tears, and all I could think about now was Dean Winchester’s butt. This was the kind of day I was having.
To top it off, Emma was being agreeable and nice.
I kept waiting for her to stab me in the back. Some habits die hard.
She was even wearing something stylish for a change, tight jeans and a cardigan. I had done a double take and then I about fell out of my chair. Just how much damage had I done to the girl’s head?
That was it. I officially forbade myself from ever using compulsion again. It was obvious that I was a complete newbie and didn’t know jack about playing with people’s heads. I mean, I might have completely screwed up Emma for life, not that she hadn’t been totally messed up before, but…
Then she opened her mouth.
“Where’s your shadow, demon-girl?” she asked in that snarky tone.
Yep. Still Emma in there.
I made a face. Not a pretty one either. “What’s with the getup? Did your mom finally burn all your cargo pants?”
She eyed my jeans and “Eat, sleep, and game” t-shirt. “You’re one to talk.”
I distinctly remembered telling her to be nice to me. What the hell? I was so damn tempted to ask her what happened to her lip. It was still swollen and turning a gross shade of purple, but I reigned in my need to lash out. The last thing I wanted was to trigger any memories I’d worked so hard to make her forget. So I settled for something safer. “Did you talk to Travis?” I asked, hoping for an attitude change.
Her eyes flinched. “What Travis and I do is none of your business.”
I rolled my eyes. If this was her being nice to me, then maybe I should have been more specific. Geez. “I wasn’t asking for a play by play.”
“Good. It’s too hot for you to handle.” She gave me a wicked grin.
What was going on here? She was hurting my brain. Stupefied, I watched her saunter off down the hall toward her next class. When lunch rolled around, I was hit with another bomb. They just kept on falling.
At lunch, Emma sat down at the table between Lexi and me. Chase’s brow shot up.
“So, is someone going to tell me why everyone is staring at me like I’ve grown an unicorn horn?” Emma asked, her food tray clattering on the table.
My mouth hit my plate of pizza.
“Gosh, where to start?” Lexi chimed in. That’s my girl.
I fidgeted on the edge of my seat.
Chase reclined in his chair, legs stretched out under the table as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Emma forked a heap of lumpy, watery looking potatoes. “God, the food here isn’t fit for dogs.”
I took a sip of my drink, eyeing her over the cup, waiting to see what she was going to do or say next? Was she screwing with me? Had my compulsion wore off? Not once had Emma ever sat at our table. I didn’t know what to think or make of it.