Opposition

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It was happening—everything about the world as we knew it was ending, and it sure as hell did not feel fine. Or cool.

Opening my eyes, I inched aside the flimsy white curtain. I peered out, beyond the porch and the cleared yard, into the thick woods surrounding the cabin Luc had stashed in the forests of Coeur d’Alene, a city in Idaho I couldn’t even begin to pronounce or spell.

The yard was empty. There was no flickering, brilliant white light shining through the trees. No one was out there. Correction. Nothing was out there. No birds were chirping or fluttering from leafy branch to branch. Not one sign of any woodland creatures scurrying anywhere. There wasn’t even the low hum of insects. Everything was silent and still, soundless in a totally creeptastic kind of way.

My gaze fixed on the woods, glued to the last place I’d seen Daemon. A deep, throbbing ache lit up my chest. The night we’d fallen asleep on the couch seemed like ages ago, but it had only been forty-eight hours or so since I’d woken up, overheated, and nearly been blinded by Daemon’s true form. He hadn’t been able to control it, although if we’d known what it signaled, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

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