3
{ Daemon }
The constant stream of voices in my true tongue, along with a dozen other human languages, caused a fierce throbbing in my temples. The words. The sentences. The threats. The promises. The goddamn nonstop chatter of my newly arrived oh-so-extended family members as they discovered something new to them, which was about every five freaking seconds.
Oh! A blender.
Oh! A car.
Oh! Humans sure do bleed a lot and break easily.
Hell, as soon as they opened their eyes, they were seeing something for the very first time, and while the awe as they tinkered with appliances or with human anatomy was a bit childlike, it was also a little on the demented side of things.
The newly arrived were the coldest sons of bitches I’d ever seen.
In the last forty-eight hours, literally thousands of my kind had come to Earth for the first time, and it was like one giant hive. We were all connected, one wavelength to another, little worker bees for the queen.
Whoever the hell that might be.
The connection was overwhelming at times, the needs and desires and wants of thousands all joined together in the forefront of every Luxen’s mind. Take over. Control. Rule. Dominate. Subjugate. The only time there was even a measure of relief was when I was in my human form. It seemed to dull the connection, dial it back, but not for everyone.
Striding across the polished wood floors of an atrium in a mansion that could house a militia and still have room for sleepovers, I saw my vision tint red when I spied my twin. He lounged against the wall, near a set of closed double doors. His chin was tilted down, brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers flew over the screen of a cell phone. When I was halfway across the brightly lit room that smelled like roses and the faint metallic scent of spilled blood, he lifted his head.
Dawson took a deep breath as I approached him. “Hey,” he said. “There you are. They—”
I snatched the phone from his hands, turned, and threw it as hard as I could. The little square object flew clear across the room and shattered against the opposite wall.
“What the hell, man?” Dawson exploded, hands flying up. “I was on level sixty-nine of Candy Crush, you bastard. Do you know how hard that—?”
After cocking back my arm, I slammed my fist into his jaw. He stumbled into the wall, raising a hand to his face. A sick sense of satisfaction twisted up my insides.
He raised his head, tilting it to the side. “Jesus.” He grunted as he lowered his hand. “I didn’t kill her. Obviously.”
My thoughts emptied like a bowl of water being tipped over as I drew in a shallow breath.
“I knew what I was doing, Daemon.” He glanced at the door, his voice lowering. “There was nothing else I could do.”
Launching forward, I gripped the collar of his shirt and lifted him up onto the tips of his boots. The reasons were not good enough. “You have never had any measure of control when it comes to using the Source. Why in the hell would it be different now?”
The pupils of his eyes started to glow white. He shoved his arms between mine, breaking the hold. “I had no other choice.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I stepped around him, forcing myself away from my brother before I threw him through a wall and in front of a tank.
Dawson turned, and I could feel his shrewd gaze on my back. “You need to get control of yourself, brother.”
I stopped in front of the closed doors and looked at him over my shoulder.
He shook his head. “I’m—”
“Don’t,” I warned.
Dawson’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when they reopened, he was staring at the closed doors, nearly devastated. “How much longer?” he whispered.
Real fear punched me in the gut. It was too much. I knew his defenses were down and he had been put in a bad position. He didn’t have any other choice. “I don’t know, because . . .”
I didn’t have to elaborate. Understanding dawned on his face. “Dee . . .”
My eyes met and held his, and there was nothing else to be said. Facing forward, I pushed open the door, and the constant hum banging off my skull grew stronger as I entered the wide, circular office.
Newcomers were in the room, but it was the one in the seat with his back turned to me who mattered, the one we’d been drawn to the moment they’d shown up at the cabin.
He was sitting in a leather chair, watching a big flat screen on the wall. It was a local TV news station broadcasting images of downtown Coeur d’Alene. Totally different place than it had been three days ago. Smoke billowed from buildings. Fire covered the west like a burning sunset. The streets were a mess. Complete war zone.
“Look at them,” he said, his voice carrying a strange lilt as he navigated the new language. “Scurrying around on the ground aimlessly.”
Looked like half of the humans were looting an electronics store.
“They’re so helpless, unorganized. Inferior.” His laugh was deep, almost infectious. “This will be the easiest planet for us to dominate.”
It still amazed me that they’d been out there this whole time, generation after generation since the destruction of our planet, holed up in some godforsaken universe that was apparently not as comfy as Earth.
He shook his head, almost in wonder, as the screen flipped to images of tanks rolling into the city. He laughed again. “They can’t defend themselves.”
Another newcomer, a tall redhead dressed in a tight black skirt and pressed white shirt, cleared her throat. Her name was Sadi, which was fitting, because I referred to her as Sadi the sadist.
She didn’t seem to mind, because in the short time I had known her, the nickname was well earned, and the only other thing I did know about her was that her gaze was usually attached to my ass.
“Actually, they do have weapons,” she said.
“Not enough, my dear. This is happening in some of the largest cities in every state, in every country. Let them have their little weapons. We may lose a few, but those losses will not impact our initiative.” The chair wheeled around, and the muscles along my back tensed. The human form he’d chosen was that of a trim male in his early forties, with dark brown hair parted neatly and a wide, perfectly straight white smile.
He’d taken the form of the mayor of the city, and he liked to be called by the dead human’s name: Rolland Slone. Sort of weird. “Our goal will still be reached. Isn’t that right, Daemon Black?”
I met his stare. “I really don’t think they’ll be able to stop you.”
“Of course not.” His fingers steepled under his chin. “I hear you brought something with you?”
He posed it as a question, but the answer was already known. I nodded.
Sadi’s body angled toward mine with interest as her bright teal gaze lit up, and by the wall, the other one stirred.
“A female?” asked Sadi, who must’ve picked up the fleeting image that had flickered through my thoughts.
“The last time I checked, yes.” I smiled when her eyes narrowed. “But I’m still not convinced you’re rocking all the right girl parts.”
Sadi’s fingers straightened at her sides. “You want to check that out?”
I smirked. “Nah, I think I’ll pass on that.”
Rolland chuckled as he hooked one knee over the other. “This female. She’s not exactly human, is she?”
Sadi pulled her attention from me when I shook my head. A muscle or a nerve or something else equally annoying started to twitch under my eye. “No. She’s not.”
His hands rested in his lap, one folded on top of the other. “What is she exactly?”
“A mutant,” answered Dee as she strode into the room, her long, dark curls spreading out behind her. A sweet smile formed on her lips as she looked at Rolland. “Actually, she was mutated by my brother.”
“Which one?” asked Rolland.
“This one.” Dee nodded at me as she popped her hands on her hips. “He healed her about a year ago. The girl is a hybrid.”
Eyes flicked back to mine. “Were you trying to hide that from us, Daemon?”
“Did I really get a chance to answer that question?”
“True,” Rolland murmured, eyeing me closely. “You’re a hard one to read, Daemon. Not like your lovely sister here.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I shrugged. “I like to think I’m an open book.”
“Out of all of us, he’s always had little use for humans,” Dee said.
Rolland’s brows rose. “Except for this girl, I imagine.”
“Except for her.” Guess Dee was now my own personal speaker. “Daemon was in love with her.”
“Love?” Sadi coughed out a surprisingly delicate laugh. “How very . . .” She seemed to search for the right word. “Weak?”
My shoulders stiffened as I muttered, “‘Was’ being the key word.”
“Explain to me this healing and mutation thing,” Rolland ordered, leaning forward.
I waited for Dee to chime in, but for once, she appeared happy to remain quiet. “She suffered a fatal injury, and I healed her without knowing that it would mutate her. Some of my abilities were transferred to her, and we were connected together from that moment on.”
“What made you want to heal her?” Curiosity colored his tone.
Dee snorted. “I don’t think he was thinking with the head on his shoulders when he did it, if you get what I mean.”
While I resisted the urge to shoot my sister a look, Rolland stared at me for a moment, and then smiled like he not only got what Dee meant but was also very interested in a whole lot of detail.
“Interesting,” murmured Sadi as she flipped a wealth of coppery hair over a slim shoulder. “How tight is this bond or connection between you?”
I shifted my weight, glancing at the silent Luxen male who was still leaning against the wall. “She dies; I die. Tight enough for you?”
Rolland’s eyes widened. “Well, that is not good . . . for you.”
“Yep,” I drawled out.
A slow curl of Sadi’s lips made her look hungry. “And does she feel what you feel? And vice versa?”
“Only if it’s a near-fatal wound,” I answered, voice flat as the floors.
Sadi glanced at Rolland, and I knew they were communicating. Their words were lost in the hum of the others, but the eagerness that suddenly crept over Sadi’s face had my fists tightening.
I didn’t trust her.
I didn’t trust Quiet Dude, either.
“You don’t have to trust her,” Rolland said, smiling widely. “We just have to trust you.”
Dee stiffened. “We can be trusted.”
“I know.” His head cocked to the other side. “And there was something else there, right? It got away?”