Oblivion (Lux, #1.5)

“It’s not what you think. If you’d let me explain…”

“You don’t know what I think,” I snapped.

“Daemon—”

“You know, you’re unbelievable.” Anger grabbed a hold of me, sinking its razor-sharp claws in. “The night of your party, when you thought I was messing around with Ash? You were so pissed that you went outside and blew up windows, exposing yourself.”

She flinched.

“And now you’re doing—what? Messing around with him in between kissing me?”

Her lower lip trembled. “I’m not messing around with him, Daemon! We’re just friends. That’s all.”

Skepticism drew my lips into a tight line. “I’m not stupid, Kat.”

“I didn’t say that you were!” she yelled, her hands forming little fists. “You’re not giving me a chance to explain anything. As usual, you’re acting like a freaking know-it-all and you keep cutting me off!”

“And as usual, you’re a bigger problem than I could’ve ever imagined.” The moment those words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d gone too far.

She staggered a step back, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I’m not your problem. Not anymore.”

“Kat—”

“No. I was never your problem in the first place.” Anger mingled with the hurt in her voice. “And I’m sure as hell not your problem now.”

“Hell. This”—I waved my hand around us, losing control—“isn’t even important right now. Just forget it.”

I couldn’t win with her. No matter what I did, what I said, and I needed to walk away before I really said something I couldn’t take back.

Before she said something I couldn’t let go of.





Chapter 18


I didn’t go home, not for a very long time. I stayed out, patrolling the county into the early-morning hours. If there was one Arum, there were three more. Even though I didn’t feel the presence of one, they wouldn’t be far behind.

When I came home, it was a little after four in the morning, and my human skin wasn’t too thrilled with spending hours in the near freezing temps. Faint light flickered from the living room, punctuated by a low murmur. Pulling off my cap, I walked into the living room.

Dee was curled up against the arm of the couch, out cold. Beside her, a sleepy Adam rubbed at his eyes. I didn’t say anything as I made my way into the kitchen. Flipping on the light above the stove, I tossed my cap onto the table and walked to the fridge.

I pulled out a tub full of turkey and then grabbed a soda. My stomach rumbled as I peeled the lid off. Bypassing the BS of a fork, I started rooting around the bits of meat with my fingers.

“You’re getting in late,” Adam stated from the doorway. He walked over to the counter, scratching his jaw as he yawned. “Is everything okay?”

Everything was absolute fubar right now. I shoved a handful of turkey meat into my mouth while I debated what I could tell Adam. The shit with Douche Bag? I wasn’t comfortable telling Adam or any of them about that. I didn’t want to draw them into something that could blow up in our faces.

Something that would most likely blow up in our faces.

I shoved in another mouthful of turkey. Lying to my friends, to my family, didn’t sit well on me. But this wasn’t the first and only lie. They didn’t know about me healing Kat. They didn’t know she was changing—mutating. So many lies.

Adam watched me, waiting.

Popping the tab on the soda, I swallowed a large gulp. “There was an Arum tonight.”

All the sleepiness vanished from Adam’s expression. He was tense, alert. “What happened?”

“The Arum is no longer a problem,” I said, picking up another strip of turkey.

“But if there’s one then there’s….”

“There’s three more somewhere close.” I sat the tub of turkey aside. “I know. So just be aware. I’ll let Matthew know, so he can notify the Elders.”

Adam scrubbed his fingers through his messy hair. “Damn, man, will there ever be a day when we don’t have to worry about the Arum?”

“Yeah.” My appetite was gone. “When we’re dead.”



By the time Saturday evening rolled around, some of the anger had burned off. Not all of it, but enough that I was confident I could be around Douche Bag without murdering him. Sort of confident. I did not agree with his training Kat, not at all, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be there to supervise it.

My distrust of him grew by the second.

At five, I walked over. Kat’s mom was already gone. I knocked on the front door, and a few seconds later, what sounded like a herd of wolverines rushed the door. Stepping back, I frowned.

The door flew open to reveal Kat. She appeared somewhat out of breath and her eyes were a bit swollen and red. “Hey,” she said.

I arched a brow. “It sounded like you were going to come straight through the door.”

She flushed. “I, uh, was…looking for my drink.”

“Looking for your drink?”

“I lost it.”