Origin (Lux #4)(40)

“Go ahead,” Nancy said. “I trust that Katy knows what will happen if she decides to use that knife in a very bad manner.”

I shot the woman a hateful look as the cool instrument landed in my palm. Mustering up my courage, I turned to Daemon. He was still staring at me like I was insane. “Ready?”

“No.” His chest rose in a deep breath, and a very rare thing happened. Helplessness had crept into his eyes, turning them a mossy shade of green. “Kat…”

“We have to.”

Our eyes locked, and then he extended his hand. “I’ll do it.”

I stiffened. “No way.”

“Give it to me, Kat.”

There were several reasons why I wasn’t giving him the scalpel. Mainly because I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it, and I was also afraid he’d turn it into a projectile. I shifted slightly, opening my left hand. I’d never cut myself before, at least on purpose. My heart was pounding crazy fast and my stomach was jumping. The edge of the scalpel was wicked sharp, so I assumed it wouldn’t take much pressure to do the deed.

I poised it over my open palm, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Wait!” Daemon shouted, causing me to jerk. When I looked up, his pupils were completely white. “I need to be in my true form.”

Now I was staring at him like he was nuts. There had been many times when he did quick patch-up work in his human form. He only turned into a glow stick when things were serious. I had no idea what he was up to.

He turned to Nancy and the sergeant, who wore mirror looks of suspicion. “I want to make sure I do this quick and fast. I don’t want her to be in pain, and I don’t want it to scar.”

They seemed to believe that, because Nancy nodded her approval. Daemon took a deep breath, and then his body started to shimmer. He was changing. The outline of his form began to fade out, clothes and all. For a second, I forgot that we were in this room, that I was holding a scalpel about to slice open my own flesh, and that we were basically prisoners of Daedalus.

Watching him take on his true form was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Just before he’d completely faded out, he started to take shape again. Arms. Legs. Torso. Head. For a brief second, I could see him, really see him. The skin was translucent, like a jellyfish, and the network of veins was filled with a pearlescent glow. The features were Daemon, but sharper and more defined, and then he was shining as bright as the sun. A human-shaped light tinged in red that was so beautiful to look upon that tears filled my eyes.

I really don’t want you to do this.

Like always, hearing his voice in my head came as a shock. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it. I started to respond vocally but caught myself. You shouldn’t have come here, Daemon. This is what they want.

The luminous head cocked to the side. Coming here for you was the only thing I could do. Doesn’t mean I have to be okay with everything. Now do this before I change my mind and see if I really can’t tap into the Source and kill someone.

My gaze fell to the scalpel, and I cringed. Getting a good grip on the handle, I could feel several eyes on me. Being the coward that I am, I squeezed my eyes shut, brought the blade down on my palm, and sliced.

I hissed at the flare of pain and dropped the scalpel, watching the thin cut immediately bubble with blood. It was like a paper cut times a million.

Jesus H. Mary mother of Christ in crutches, came Daemon’s voice.

I’m not sure that’s how it goes, I told him, squeezing my palm shut against the burn.

I was vaguely aware of the doctor stooping down and grabbing the blade as I looked up. The light from Daemon surrounded me as his hand outstretched, fingers becoming more visible as they circled my injured hand.

Open up, he said.

I shook my head, and his phantom sigh bounced around my head. He gently pried my hand open, his touch as warm as clothes freshly removed from the dryer. Man, that hurt more than I thought.

There was a low growl that replaced the sigh. Did you really think it wasn’t going to hurt, Kitten?

Whatever. I let him guide me over to the chair, and I sat, watching as he knelt before me, his head bowed. Heat flared over my palm as he started to do his thing.

“Amazing,” Dr. Roth whispered.

My eyes were trained on Daemon’s glowing, bent head. The warmth that blew off him filled the room. I reached out and placed my uninjured hand on his shoulder. His light pulsed, and the red at the edges bled inward an inch or so. Interesting.

You know how I like it when you touch me in this form. His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

Why do you have to make everything sound so dirty? But I didn’t pull my hand back.

His chuckle rolled through me, and by then, the pain in my palm had stopped. I’m not the one with the dirty mind, Kitten.

I rolled my eyes.

Both of his hands circled mine, and I was sure at that point my hand was already healed. Now stop distracting me.

I snorted. Me? You’re such a douche canoe.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Roth murmured. “They’re communicating. It never fails to amaze me when I see it.”

Daemon ignored him. I took this form to tell you that I spoke with Luc before I went to Mount Weather.

I sat up straight, all ears. Did he have anything to do with this?

No. And I believe him. He’s going to help us get out. I need—