Obsidian

anything to you?”

I wanted to swallow so badly, but it hurt too much. “He said…I had a trace on me. And he kept asking… where they were. I don’t know why.”

He hurriedly looked away, drawing a sharp breath. “He sounds like a lunatic.”

“Yeah, but…who did he want?”

Daemon turned back to me, a deep scowl on his face. “A girl stupid enough to help a homicidal maniac with his tire maybe?”

My lips pressed into a hard line. “You’re such an ass. Has…anyone ever told you that?”

He flashed a genuinely amused smile. “Oh, Kitten, every single day of my blessed life.”

I stared at him in disbelief again. “I don’t even know what to say…”

“Since you already said thank you, I think nothing is the best way to go at this point.” He stood with fluid grace. “Just please don’t move. That’s all I ask. Stay still and try not to cause any more trouble.” I frowned and it hurt.

My not-so-charming knight stood over me, legs braced apart and arms at his sides as if ready to protect me again. What if the guy came back? That must be what Daemon was worried about.

My shoulders started to shake, my teeth quickly joining in the fun. Daemon whipped his shirt off and pulled the warm cotton over my head, careful not to let even a whisper of cloth touch my damaged face. His scent wrapped around me and for the first time since the attack, I felt safe. With Daemon. Go figure.

As if my body recognized I didn’t need to fight anymore, I started slipping sideways, and I knew I was going to black my other eye when my head hit the pavement because I was most definitely about to pass out for the second time in as few days. I briefly wondered why I was cursed to always faint in front of Daemon, and then folded to the ground like a paper sack.

Chapter 10

I didn’t make it a habit to frequent hospitals. I hated them as much as I hated country music. To me, they smelled of death and disinfectant. They reminded me of Dad, and the time that had clocked away while the cancer hollowed his eyes and chemo bloated his body.

This hospital was no different, but the visit was a little more complex.

It involved the police, a frantic mother, and my surly, dark-haired savior, who still hovered near the little room they’d shoved me in. As rude and ungrateful as it was, I was doing my best to ignore him.

My mom, who’d been on shift at the hospital when the ambulance brought me in with a police escort, kept randomly reaching over and stroking my arm or face — the good side at least. As if that motion reminded her that I was alive and breathing and only bruised. I hated myself for it, but it was starting to annoy me.

I was feeling the height of bitchiness.

My head and back were aching something fierce, but the pain in my wrist and arm were the worst. After tons of poking, prodding, and half a dozen X-rays, nothing was broken. I had a sprained wrist and a torn tendon in my arm, in addition to numerous deep bruises and scratches. A brace already encased my left hand and forearm.

There was this elusive promise of pain medication that had yet to arrive.

The police officers were kind, if a little too brusque. They asked every question imaginable. I knew it was important I tell them everything I could remember, but the shock was beginning to wear off and the adrenaline had long since faded. All I wanted was to go home.

They thought it was an attempted robbery gone wrong until I told them he hadn’t asked for any money. After I’d told them what the attacker had said, they believed he may have been ill or possibly a drug addict coming down from a high.

When the police were done asking me questions, they moved on to Daemon. They seemed to be on familiar terms with him. One even clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. They were buddies. How sweet. I didn’t get a chance to listen to what he was telling them because my mom had taken over the interrogation.

I wanted them all to stop and go away.

“Miss Swartz?”

Surprised to hear my last name, I was pulled out of my own thoughts. One of the younger deputies was at my bed again. I couldn’t remember his name, and I was too tired to even look for a name tag. “Yes?”

“I think we are pretty much done for tonight. If you remember anything else, please call us immediately.”

I nodded and wished I hadn’t. I grimaced as pain shot through my head.

“Honey, are you okay?” Mom asked, her tone pitched in worry.

“My head, it hurts.”

She stood. “I’ll go find the doctor so we can get those meds in you.” She smiled gently. “Then you won’t feel a thing.”

That is what I needed, wanted — would love.

The deputy turned to leave but stopped. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I—”

The crackle of his radio interrupted anything else he was about say. The dispatcher’s voice broke through the static. “All available units, we have code 18 on Well Springs Road. Victim is a female, approximately sixteen to seventeen years of age. Possible DOA. EMT on the scene.” Whoa. What were the odds that I’d be attacked on the same night another teenage girl died in such a small town? It had to be a coincidence. I glanced at Daemon. His eyes were narrowed. He’d heard it, too.

“Jesus,” the deputy said, then clicked on his radio. “Unit 414 leaving hospital and en route.” He turned from the bed, still talking into the radio, and left.

With the exception of Daemon lounging against the wall by the curtain, the room was empty. He raised a curious brow at me. I chewed on my lower lip and turned my head away, causing another ripple of pain to go from one temple to the other. I stayed like that until my mother came rushing back to my bed with the doctor in tow.

“Honey, Dr. Michaels has good news.”

“As you already know, you have no broken bones and it also looks like you don’t have a concussion. Once we can release you, you can go home and rest,” he said, rubbing the area where speckles of gray peppered the hair near his temples. He glanced at Daemon before focusing on me again. “Now, if you start experiencing dizziness or nausea, vision issues or loss of memory, we need you back here immediately.”

“Okay,” I said, eyeing the pills. I’d agree to anything at this point.

After the doctor left, Mom hovered as I took the small plastic cup and pills from her, swallowing them quickly. I didn’t even care what they were.

On the verge of tears again, I reached for my mom’s hand, but was interrupted by an excited voice in the hallway.

Dee rushed into the room, her face pale and worried. “Oh no, Katy, are you okay?”

“Yes. Just a little banged up.” I lifted my arm and gave a weak smile.

“I can’t believe this has happened.” She turned to her brother. “How could this have happened? I thought you—”

“Dee,” Daemon warned.

She darted away from her brother, lingering on the other side of my bed. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She nodded, but I could tell she was harboring guilt.

My mom’s name was called over the loudspeaker. Her face strained, she excused herself and promised to be back in a few seconds.

“Can you leave soon?” Dee asked.

I dragged my attention back to her. “I guess so.” I paused. “As long as my mom comes back.”

She nodded. “Did…you see the guy who attacked you?”

“Yeah, he said some crazy stuff.” I closed my eyes, and it seemed to take longer than normal to reopen