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“Happily,” I lied, and her eyes flashed, and I knew that she saw through me.
The only difference was that now she didn’t give a damn.
I didn’t stop her as she walked by and left the room. Instead, I stood there, pressing a hand to my chest, and pretending I hadn’t just shattered my entire soul.
But I was the Reaper’s son. Demon offspring. I’d almost forgotten that.
Or maybe Sara had just made it that easy for me to pretend.
—
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sara
Once again, I found myself wishing that the commuter rail went to West Carlisle. But thanks to old country roads, old money, and bad luck, the closest stop was in Concord and over 30 minutes away.
Although, even if the damn train had gone through Ty Michaelson’s backyard, I wasn’t sure that Daniel would’ve passed up the opportunity to trap us in a car together so he could silently torture me. He kept the music low, funky indie bands and neo-soul singers that I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking about. Meanwhile, the inside of his ridiculous black Range Rover was all buttery black leather and a smokey smell, not quite cigarettes, more like a woodfire, which I finally figured out was some fancy air freshener. He must have gotten it to help with the cigarette scent, since when he’d picked me up, he’d been standing outside the car, aggressively taking drags, and not quite meeting my eyes. I’d wrinkled my nose without meaning to andDaniel had immediately squashed his cigarette under a boot, then ushered me into his car.
For once, I’d thought I’d prefer the cigarette smell to the whiffs of cologne and clean soap that I kept going. A scent that reminded me that I’d used that soap in the shower of his guest bathroom. A scent that also reminded me that I knew his scent from tasting his skin—not only at his club, his apartment, but now last week at Lia’s old place. A scent that I wished I could forget, but knew I never would, which was why my gut clenched whenever I inhaled it.
At least the ordeal of packing up Lia’s place was over. Daniel had been mostly absent after our nasty fight, while his guys had been scrupulously kind and polite and efficient about following my orders. It had taken four days, despite it being one goddamn apartment. Part of it was that I didn’t know what Lia wanted to keep, and part of it was that the guys had only been able to spare about three hours at a time to help me. Nor would Daniel hear of leaving me alone to finish up. Now it was Monday, and I was skipping work and class again, driving out to West Carlisle.
I sat up straighter as the house came into view. A huge, old stone house that had colonial lines but was a straight up mansion. Daniel pulled up to a gate and rolled down the window, letting in a blast of cold air. A muscular dude who reminded me a bit of Pasquale, but with none of his humor nodded at him and said something in a low tone that I didn’t catch.
Lia lives here?I thought of her dingy apartment, now cleaned out, and of her mom’s old house in Brookline. It didn’t quite fit,but it was about the size of what my friend deserved. My hand found my throat and pressed against, an ache going through me, my thoughts spinning off each other.
Soon, I’d see Lia.
Suddenly, the month that we’d been apart seemed too long, and I felt a rush of unease.
“You good?” Daniel asked without looking over as he parked.
It was the first thing he’d said to me beyond a brief “good morning,” and “got you coffee.”
“Don’t worry,” I said and glanced over at him. “I won’t mention how much of a dick you’ve been to me.”
At that, he flinched and then flung himself out of the car, slamming the door. When he came around, I’d gone to open the door, wondering why the hell I’d waited for him to open it, but Daniel beat me to it. He then leaned in the door and flicked his eyes over me.
“It will bug Lia if she knows we’re not getting along,” Daniel said.
