Jennifer Armentrout - Obsidian

“Not slimy green space creatures,” I replied. “Anyway, I also appreciate graphic novels, history stuff—”

“You read graphic novels?” Disbelief colored his tone. “Seriously?”

I nodded. “Yeah, so what? Are girls not supposed to like graphic novels and comics?”

He stared at me a long moment, then jerked his chin toward the woods. “Want to go on a hike?”

“Uh, you know I’m not good with the whole hiking thing,” I reminded him.

A grin appeared. There was an edge to it. Rough. Sexy. “I’m not taking you up on the Rocks. Just a harmless little trail. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“Did Dee not tell you where your keys were?” I asked, suspicious.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Then why are you here?”

Daemon sighed. “I don’t have a reason. I thought I would just stop over, but if you’re going to question everything, then you can forget it.”

I watched him go down the steps as I chewed on my lip. This was crazy. I’d been dying of boredom for days. Rolling my eyes, I called out, “All right, let’s do this.”

“Are you sure?”

I agreed, with a hefty amount of trepidation. “Why are we going behind my house?” I asked when it was evident where he was leading me. “The Seneca Rocks are that way. I thought most trails started over there.” I pointed to the front of my house, to where the tips of the monstrous sandstone-looking structures loomed over everything.

“Yeah, but there are trails back here that will take you around and it’s quicker,” he explained. “Most people here know all the main trails that are crowded. There used to be a lot of boring days out here, and I found a couple of them off the beaten trail.” I made a face. “How far off the beaten track are we talking?”

He chuckled. “Not that far.”

“So it’s a baby trail? I bet this is going to be boring for you.”

“Anytime I get to go out and walk around is good. Besides it’s not as if we’ll hike all the way to Smoke Hole Canyon. That’s a pretty big hike from here, so no worries, okay?”

“All right, lead the way.”

We stopped off at Daemon’s to grab a couple of water bottles and then took off. We walked on in silence for a few minutes and then he said, “You’re very trusting, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that.” It was a little difficult to keep up with his long-legged pace, so I trailed a few steps behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder without a misstep. “No one has ever called you that before?”

I picked my way around a large, prickly bush. “Yeah, people call me Kitten all the time. But you make it sound so…”

His brows shot up. “Sound so what?”

“I don’t know, like it’s an insult.” He’d slowed, and now I was walking beside him. “Or something sexually deviant.”

He turned his head away, laughing. The sound had my muscles tensing.

“Why are you always laughing at me?”

Shaking his head, he grinned down at me. “I don’t know, you just kind of make me laugh.”

I kicked a small rock. “Whatever. So what was up with that Matthew dude? He acted as if he hated me or something.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t trust you,” he muttered the last words.

I shook my head, bewildered. “Trust me with what? Your virtue?”

He barked out a laugh, and it took him a few moments to respond. “Yeah. He’s not a fan of beautiful girls who have the hots for me.”

“What?” I tripped over an exposed root. Daemon caught me easily, setting me back on my feet the minute I was steady. The brief contact had my skin tingling through my clothes. His hands lingered on my waist only a few seconds before he dropped them. “You’re joking, right?”

“Which part?” he asked.

“Any of that!”

“Come on. Please don’t tell me you don’t think you’re pretty.” He considered my silence. “No guy has ever said you’re pretty?”

He wasn’t the first person to say anything nice about me, but I guess I never cared before. Previous boyfriends told me I was pretty, but I never considered that a reason for someone disliking me. Looking away, I shrugged. “Of course.”

“Or…maybe you’re not aware of it?”

I shrugged again as I focused on the trunks of old trees, about to change the subject and deny the other part of his statement. I most definitely did not have the hots for this arrogant guy.

“You know what I’ve always believed?” he said softly.

We were still standing in the path, only the sounds of a few birds echoed around us. My voice drifted away on a light breeze. “No.”

“I’ve always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect.” His eyes searched mine intently, and for a moment we stood there toe to toe. “The ones who throw their beauty around, waste what they have? Their beauty is only passing. It’s just a shell hiding nothing but shadows and emptiness.” I did the most inappropriate thing possible. I laughed. “I’m sorry, but that was the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever heard you say. What alien ship took the Daemon I know away, and can I ask them to keep him?” He scowled. “I was being honest.”

“I know, but it’s just that was really…wow.” And here I was, ruining probably the nicest thing he would ever say to me.

He shrugged and began leading me down the trail again. “We won’t go too far,” he said after a few minutes. “So you’re interested in history?”

“Yeah, I know that makes me a nerd.” I was also grateful for the change in subject.

His lips twitched at that. “Did you know this land was once traveled by the Seneca Indians?”

I winced. “Please tell me we aren’t walking on any burial grounds?”

“Well…I’m sure there are burial grounds around here somewhere. Even though they just traveled through this area, it’s not a stretch that some died on this very spot and—”

“Daemon, I don’t need to know that part.” I gave him a light push on the arm.

He had that weird look again and shook his head. “Okay, I’ll tell you the story and I’ll leave some of the more creepy but natural facts out.”

A long branch stretched across the path, and Daemon held it up for me to duck under, my shoulder brushing against his chest as I passed before he dropped the branch and took the lead again. “What story?”

“You’ll see. Now pay attention…A long time ago, this land was forest and hills, which isn’t too different than today with the exception of a few small towns.” His finger drifted over the lower hanging branches as we walked, pushing the lower ones aside for me. “But imagine this place so sparsely populated that it could take days, even weeks, before you reached your nearest neighbor.” I shivered. “That seems so lonely.”

“But you have to understand that was the way of life hundreds of years ago. Farmers and mountain men lived a few miles away from one another, but the distance was all traveled by foot or horse. It wasn’t usually the safest way to travel.”

“I can imagine,” I responded faintly.

“The Seneca Indian tribe traveled through the eastern part of the United States, and at some point, they walked this very path toward the Seneca Rocks.” His gaze met mine. “Did you know that this very small path behind your house leads right to the base of them?”

“No. They always seem so far off in the distance I never thought of them as being that close.”

“If you stayed on this path for a couple of miles you’d find yourself at the base of them. It’s a pretty rocky patch even the most experienced rock climbers stay away from. See, the Seneca Rocks spread from Grant to Pendleton County, with the highest point being Spruce Knob and an outcropping near Seneca called Champe Rocks. Now they are kind of hard to get to, since it usually involves invading someone’s property, but it can be worth it if you can scale way beyond nine hundred feet in the sky,” he finished wistfully.