– Where are they?
– If I tell you, I’d have to trust that you two, plus anyone else, aren’t going to
give me a cement swim.
I rolled my eyes at the mafia reference. – Trust is a two-way street.
– And we don’t trust you.
– Hold up, – I said, shaking my head. -So you can’t really get us in. Someone
else can?
– Go figure.- Daemon chuckled. -Biff is virtually useless.
Blake’s lips thinned. – I know what level and cell they’re being kept in, so
without me, you’d just be running around the compound begging to be
captured.
– And my fist is begging to be in your face.
– The only clubs in that part of West Virginia are strip clubs.
– You would think that.- Smugness crept over Blake’s expression. – But this is a
different kind of club. – He glanced at me. – Females don’t show up in jeans and
sweaters.
I gave him a bland look as I plucked a fry from Daemon’s plate. – What do
they show up in? Nothing?
– The closest thing to nothing. – His smile was real now, causing the green in his eyes to sparkle, reminding me of the Blake I first met. -Bad for you. Yay for me.
– You really want to die, don’t you? Daemon said.
– Sometimes, I think so.
– You’ll end up like me.
I peeked at him. – What? An extremely tall and douchey alien?
He smiled. – The jerky part, yes. I blamed myself for what happened to
Dawson. It changed me. I’m still not back to where I was before everything
happened. Don’t do that to yourself.
Somehow I thought it might have had more to do with the fact that they
wanted him to make little alien Daemon babies with Ash than him not sending
out a mass text notifying everyone that he was no longer on the market.
Don’t ever walk through a door first again, okay? And don’t argue with me about it or accuse me of being chauvinistic. I don’t ever want to see you in that kind of pain again.
– Micah!- Dr. Roth shoved an officer out of the way. -That is bad! Bad, Micah!
Bad—that was bad? I could come up with dozens of words better suited than bad.
– Holy smokes,- Kat whispered. -The kid’s like Damien from The Omen.