Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(43)
“It’s not the same as what you made the other night—I couldn’t figure out how to work that damned machine in the kitchen—but it’s surprisingly good.”
I took a sip and nodded. “It’s great. Thanks.”
I expected him to leave, but he stayed where he was. Watching me.
“So why the chocolaty olive branch?”
“Olive branch?”
“Seriously. Your time would be so much better spent watching TV to learn the language,” I muttered, trying to hide my smile. “Why bring me the chocolate milk?”
He shrugged. “You seemed upset.”
“So what? I thought I was irritating.”
He tried to hide a smile, too, but it broke free and crept across his lips. Our eyes met for a moment, and a rush of warmth shot through me. Right before he turned and strode from the room, he said, “You are.”
I watched him leave and downed the chocolate milk in one swig. Very few things in life couldn’t be made better with chocolate. Well, chocolate and sharp weapons. As I set the cup down next to the bed, my cell started going nuts. I caught it just before it vibrated itself off the edge of the nightstand.
Sumthg wrong w/me. Come ASAP.
Garrett.
Chapter Seventeen
This was murky water. On one hand, the text could be a trick. The memory of his chilling laugh and confident stare as he pulled away earlier flashed through my mind. But on the other hand, what if it wasn’t? I had no way of knowing what the effect of direct contact with a Sin was. For all I knew, he was shriveling up from the inside out and in terrible pain.
My first instinct had been to ignore the text. But the longer I sat there thinking about it, the more I wondered what Mom would’ve done in my position. She’d go, that’s what. If there was any chance Garrett—or anyone else—was in real danger, then she’d go. She wouldn’t want me to go, but as far as I was concerned, that was splitting hairs. I didn’t want her to know about Vida yet, and that meant handling this myself. If I asked for help, then I’d have to explain. If I explained, there would be some kind of lecture.
Garrett had lived two blocks away from me since the fourth grade. We’d never been friends—mainly because we didn’t travel the same social circles. Hell, until last month when the agency took his Mom’s case, we’d never even spoken other than the time he’d stolen my cookie in fifth grade. But I’d spent some time with him since then. He wasn’t my idea of optimal stimulating company—the guy was obsessed with football and old cars—but he wasn’t horrible.
Garrett’s house was a cute Victorian with a nicely manicured lawn surrounded by huge flowerbeds. It was approaching fall so everything was starting to die off, and still it somehow managed to look amazing. Bright red and gold leaves gathered around the edges, giving the whole scene an autumn tone. We had tons of trees out behind the office—but they were all pine. The most they dropped were pinecones and huge blobs of sap that stuck to everything.
I made my way up the steps, and with a deep breath, knocked on the front door. “Garrett?”
After a few minutes, when I got no response, worry started creeping in. Images of him writhing in pain, curled up in a corner of the house and unable to speak, flounced through my brain. Imagine my surprise when I turned the doorknob and found it unlocked.
Upon pushing through, I was greeted by a homey room drenched in warm inviting colors and decorated with birds and flowers. A lot of flowers. Disturbed blared from speakers bolted to the walls on either end of the room, causing the small knick-knacks on the mantle to shimmy and rattle.
I made my way through the living room and into the kitchen. Other than the music, there was no sign of life. From there, I searched the den and master bedroom. Still, nothing. With each step, I grew more and more concerned. What if I’d taken too long to come? “Garrett? You here?”
I was about to start up the stairs to the second level when the music went silent. I whirled around to see him standing in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen wearing a devious grin. “You came.”
I had no clue where he’d come from—or how he’d managed to sneak past me. Granted I wasn’t hyper aware like Mom, but a civie high school student shouldn’t have gotten the drop on me. I knew right away something was wrong. Maybe his smile was just a little too wide. Maybe it was the strange pitch in his voice.
Or it might have been the way he crossed the room in three easy steps and pinned me to the wall with his body.
I sucked in a breath and tried not to gag. Newports and orange soda again. “This isn’t funny anymore, Garrett.” I pushed against him, but he only smiled.
“I’m glad you finally realize that.” He nuzzled my ear.
My blood ran cold. Every nerve in my body twitched. This was wrong. Twisted. Garrett was one hell of a hottie, but not once had I ever entertained a what if fantasy. It wasn’t just that I didn’t date—it was more like even if I did, Garrett wouldn’t have been my type.
“Listen to me,” I said, pushing a little harder. He didn’t budge. Desperate times—desperate measures. I’d go with something I didn’t use often. The truth. “Remember Vida? That foreign chick from the caf the other day? She wasn’t human. She hit you with some kind of nookie beam. That’s where this is coming from. You’re not really into me—you just think you are.”