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He laid down, and he concentrated on matching his breathing to the rise and fall of Loren’s chest until, eventually, he fell asleep, the bed still shaking under him—but he was too tired to care anymore.
The next morning, Darien felt like he hadn’t slept at all.
He walked—more like staggered—into the kitchen at ten to seven. His whole body ached like someone had beat the shit out of him, and his eyes felt like there were grains of sand in them. When he’d looked in the mirror shortly after getting up, they were bloodshot. He hadn’t looked this haggard in years.
Kylar was at the counter, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of Darien’s entry. “Morning.”
Darien’s reply was hardly more than a grumble.
Kylar smiled. “I take it you didn’t sleep well.”
“‘Well’?” Darien echoed. “I don’t think I slept at all.”
“Cereal?”
“Sure.”
Kylar slid the box his way. “Bowls are in the cupboard to your left.” He opened a drawer by his hip. “Spoons are in here.” He pushed a carton of milk his way.
“Thanks.” Darien found a bowl and filled it with cereal and milk. He dunked a spoon inside, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table with Kylar. He took a sip of the coffee—and moaned.
Kylar chuckled. “Good?”
“This is the only thing keeping me from turning into a demon right now.” He took another sip. “Where are the others?”
“Still sleeping. Aside from Ivy.”
“Is there any way to get that Hob to shut up?”
A piece of cereal bounced off Darien’s forehead and plunked into his coffee cup. He couldn’t see the Hob, but he could tell from the direction it was thrown that she was either on the fridge or on top of the cupboards above the fridge. Were all Hobs the damn same?
“Get Paxton to sleep here,” Kylar said around a mouthful of cereal. “Itzel’s quiet when he’s here ’cause he’s got school the next day. She doesn’t give a shit about the rest of us.” He laughed.
As if the kid heard them, the front door swung open, and Paxton walked in. He was dressed for school—backpack on, hair combed.
“Sup, dudes!” He waved with his jacket sleeve.
Ivy came in behind him, her eyes immediately finding Darien’s as she removed her jacket and hung it up. “Don’t worry,” she said, “he walked several blocks from the House of Black, and I picked him up from there.”
“Pax,” Darien called. “You want to sleep here tonight?”
He toed off his shoes and shimmied his arms out of his backpack. “You’ll have to drive me to school in the morning.” His bag thumped to the floor.
“Deal.”
“Which means you’ll have to get up early.” He smiled up at Ivy. “Unless Ivy wants to drive me again.”
“I said ‘deal’,” Darien said.
Paxton’s curiosity was tangible. “What’s going on?”
Darien and Kylar responded simultaneously. “Itzel.”
“Oh.” He made for the kitchen and helped himself to cereal—the sugary kind. No surprise there.
Darien watched as the kid sat down and immediately tore into his cereal like a wild animal. “Your dad doesn’t feed you or what?”
“Pfft—I don’t want to eat with the Shadowmasters!” he said with disgust, milk dribbling down his chin. “They’re all mean. Except for Kylar and Willow.” He smiled at Kylar.
