Origin (Lux #4)(38)

The door to the cell opened suddenly, and Daemon stiffened just like I did. Over his shoulder I saw Sergeant Dasher and Nancy Husher. Behind the incredibly douchetastic duo was Archer and another guard.

“Are we interrupting?” Nancy asked.

Daemon snorted. “No. We were just saying how sad we were that you guys weren’t visiting us.”

Nancy clasped her hands. In her black pantsuit, she looked like a walking ad for women who hate color. “For some reason I doubt that.”

My grip on the front of Daemon’s shirt tightened as my eyes bounced to the sergeant. His gaze wasn’t outright hostile, but then again, that didn’t tell me much.

The sergeant cleared his throat. “We have work to do.”

Insanely fast, Daemon was sitting up, and somehow he’d maneuvered his body so that I was behind him. “Work on what?” he asked, threading his fingers together between his knees. “And I don’t believe I’ve had the honor of meeting you.”

“That’s Sergeant Dasher,” I explained, trying to move so I wasn’t behind him. He shifted, blocking me once more.

“Is that so?” Daemon’s voice became low and dangerous, and my stomach sank. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

“I don’t think you have,” Dasher responded evenly.

“Oh, he has.” Nancy gestured at me. “I showed him the video of the first day Katy was here and your meeting with her.”

I closed my eyes and muttered a curse. Daemon was so gonna kill him.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that.” Each word was punctuated with what I knew was a death glare. I pried an eye open. Dasher didn’t look completely unfazed. The lines around his mouth were tense. “I’ve tucked those images away in a very special place,” Daemon finished.

I placed a hand on his back. “What work do we have to do?”

“We need to run some joint tests, and then we’ll go from there,” answered Dasher.

My muscles locked up, an action duly noted by Daemon. More stress tests? I couldn’t foresee that going well with Daemon involved.

“It’s nothing too complicated or intensive.” Nancy stepped aside, motioning to the door. “Please. The sooner we get started, the quicker it is over.”

Daemon didn’t move.

Nancy eyed us calmly. “Do I need to remind you of what you promised, Daemon?”

I shot him a sharp look. “Promised what?”

Before he could respond, Nancy did. “He promised to do whatever we asked without causing trouble if we brought him to you.”

“What?” I stared at him. When he didn’t say anything, I almost wanted to hit him. God only knew what they’d make him do. Taking a deep breath, I scooted around him and stood. A second later, he was on his feet and in front of me. Tucking my hair back, I slid my sneakers on.

We didn’t say anything as we stepped out into the hall. I glanced at Archer, but he was closely watching Daemon. I must not have been the DEFCON threat anymore. When we stopped in front of the elevator, I felt Daemon’s hand wrap around mine, and a little of the tautness eased out of my shoulders. How many times had I stepped into these elevators? I’d lost count, but this time was different.

Daemon was here.

They led us to the med floor and took us into a room that accommodated two patients. Dr. Roth was waiting for us, his expression eager as he hooked both of us up to a blood pressure meter.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to run tests on someone like you,” he said to Daemon, voice high-pitched.

Daemon arched a brow. “Another fanboy. I have them everywhere.”

I muttered, “Only you would see that as a good thing.”

He shot me a grin.

Color heightened the doctor’s cheeks. “It’s not often we get a powerful Luxen like you. We had thought that Dawson would be the one, but…”

Daemon’s face turned dark. “You worked with my brother?”

Uh oh.

Eyes widening, Dr. Roth glanced at where Nancy and Sergeant Dasher stood. He cleared his throat as he unwrapped the cuffs. “Their blood pressure is identical. Perfect. One-twenty over eighty.”

Nancy scribbled it down on a clipboard that I swore just appeared in her hands. I shifted in the chair, bringing my focus back to Daemon. He was eyeballing the doctor like he wanted to beat information out of him.

Dr. Roth checked our pulses next. Resting pulse was in the fifties, which was apparently a good thing, because Roth was practically humming. “Katy’s rate was in the high sixties each time before, blood pressure well into the high levels. It appears that with his presence, her rates are optimizing, matching his. This is good.”

“Why is it good?” I asked.

He pulled out a stethoscope. “It’s a good indication that the mutation is on a perfect, cellular level.”

“Or an indication that I’m pretty damn awesome,” Daemon suggested coolly.

That earned a small smile from the doctor, and my anxiety notched up. One would think that Daemon being his normal cocky, arrogant self was a good thing, but I’d learned that his smartass responses could mean he was seconds from exploding.

“Hearts beating in perfect sync. Very good,” Roth murmured, turning to Dasher. “She passed the stress test, correct? No outward signs of destabilization?”