Opposition (Lux, #5)(57)

He leaned in until his forehead pressed against mine. “So are you.”

“You know it.”

Dawson grinned, and then he hugged me. We both knew the risks and how this could all play out. But we didn’t voice it to each other as we said good-bye. Walking away from Dawson, leaving him in the same building with the woman who’d messed up his life so badly, went against everything I knew.

But I had to do it.

I had to let Dawson take care of himself, Beth, and his child. That was his job now.

My skin itched with the need to go back when I walked out those damn doors, but I ignored it and focused ahead. General Eaton was waiting for us beside a black Explorer, the kind of car Daedalus used to roll around in.

I sort of wanted to blow that bitch up, but that wouldn’t go over well. Impulse control. I was proud of myself.

“We’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he said, meeting our gazes. “I don’t think I need to remind you guys of how important this is and what is riding on you, but if you manage to pull this off, you’ll spend the rest of your lives not worrying about any of us. I will make sure that no matter what precautions are taken in the future, you will have immunity to all laws and sanctions. You’ll be free from all of this.”

It took me a moment to process what he was saying as I met Kat’s surprised stare. Once my brain kicked back into gear, I knew what she was thinking. “Not just for us.”

The general eyed me.

“I want my family and friends to fall under that,” I told him, glancing at Archer. I didn’t know what he had planned when this was all said and done, but I didn’t care. “And I also want Kat’s family—her mom—safe from ever having to deal with any of this crap because of what we are.”

Kat’s lips trembled as she pressed them together. A fine mist covered her eyes.

“You get what I’m saying?” I asked.

“I do.” He gave me a curt nod. “I can do that for you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

There was another quick nod, and then there was no more time to hang out. I walked around the general and opened the passenger door for Kat. Whether or not Archer liked it, he was gonna be a backseat rider.

“What did Beth say to you?” I asked as I gripped the car door.

Kat smiled slightly as her gaze met mine. “She said the same thing I want to say to you.”

“That I’m awesome?”

She laughed, and that sound brought a smile to my face. “No. She said thank you.”





15


{ Katy }

“Did you know . . .” started Archer, and I closed my eyes, biting back a sigh. Here they go. Ten hours into the drive, my butt was starting to hurt and they bickered like an old married couple. “That typically there’s a speed limit on these roads?” he finished.

“Yep,” came Daemon’s reply.

“I’m just curious.” Archer was currently sitting behind us, but he might as well be in our laps. He’d positioned himself so he was right between our seats, his arms hanging off the back of them. “Because I’m pretty sure that sign over there reads fifty-five. Not eighty-five.”

“You can read?” Daemon looked into the rearview mirror. “Holy shit. I’m so surprised.”

Archer sighed. “Well, that was clever.” There was a pause. “I just don’t want to end up crashing into a fiery ball.”

“You’re an Origin. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to be a skid-mark Origin or a crispy Origin.”

“Mmm,” Daemon murmured. “Crispy Origin reminds me of fried chicken. I could go for some of that right now.”

“KFC?” Archer asked, and I was surprised that he even knew what KFC chicken tasted like. “Or Popeye’s?”

Huh. He also knew Popeye’s.

Daemon’s lip curled. “No. I’m talking homemade fried chicken. Dipped in egg and flour, fried up in a skillet. Dee can fry some bomb chicken.”

“I’ve never had homemade fried chicken before.”

His eyes rolled. “God, you’re such a freak.”

“I wonder if I can get Dee to make me some,” Archer replied casually, ignoring Daemon. “You know, when she’s not on Team Kill Everyone.”

“She won’t make you any chicken,” Daemon retorted.

“Oh, she’ll make me fried chicken.” Archer laughed deeply. “She’ll make me all the chicken I want.”

A low sound of warning rumbled from Daemon, and I couldn’t believe they were now arguing over the hypothetical situation of Dee making fried chicken or not. But I shouldn’t be surprised. An hour or so ago, they were in a heated discussion over whether or not Shane would’ve been a better father than Rick on The Walking Dead. Somehow that had digressed into Daemon arguing that the governor, sociopathic tendencies aside, was a better father figure. The fact that Archer had never eaten at Olive Garden but knew about The Walking Dead absolutely befuddled me.

Archer sighed like a petulant teenager stuck in a car for too long. There was a beat of silence. “Are we there yet?”

Daemon groaned. “I’m going to sew your damn lips together.”

I covered my smile with my hand as I stared out the window. That smile faded, though, as I took in the scenery. I had no idea what state we were in. Everything from about a hundred miles outside of Billings had all looked the same.