Jennifer Armentrout - Onyx

“So,” Adam said, drawing the word out, “things going well between you and Blake?”

Sinking down farther in my seat, I bit back a string of curses. “Yeah, things are dandy.”

Ash snorted.

“Well, you’ve been spending a lot of time with him.” Dee watched me as she dipped another bar of chocolate. “Things must be going great.”

“Look, I’m just going to be honest here.” Ash flicked a buttery kernel in her mouth. “You had Daemon— Daemon . And I know how good that is. Trust me.”

A surge of jealousy rose so quickly, I wanted to slam the popcorn down her throat. “I’m sure he is.”

She snickered. “Anyway, I have no idea why you’d give him up for Blake . He’s cute and all, but he can’t be as good as—”

“Ew!” Dee’s face scrunched up. “Can we not talk about how good he is at anything that will force me into therapy later? Thank you.”

Ash chuckled as she shook her bucket of popcorn. “I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care what you’re saying.” I grabbed a handful of her popcorn partly to see her eyes narrow. “I don’t want to talk about Daemon. And Blake and I aren’t dating.”

“Friends with benefits?” Adam asked.

I groaned. How did today end up being all about my non-existent sex life? “There are no benefits at all.”

They stopped questioning me about Daemon and Blake after that. Halfway through the movie, the three aliens got up and came back with more food. I did try the chocolate dipped in cheese, and it was as gross as expected. And even though I was stuck next to Ash, I was having fun. The time I spent watching zombie after zombie eat various parts of humans, I forgot about everything that was going on. Things felt normal. I was smiling, joking with Dee as we left the movie theater. The sun had already set, and the parking lot was awash in the soft glow of streetlamps and Christmas lights.

We hung back from Ash and Adam, arm and arm. “I’m glad you came,” she said in a hushed voice. “I had fun.”

“I did, too. I’m…I’m sorry I haven’t been around a lot.”

The breeze played with her curls, tossing them across her face. “Is everything…okay with you? I mean, I know a lot has happened since you moved here. And I’m so afraid that you’ve decided you don’t want to be friends with me anymore because of what I am and everything that entails.”

“No. No way.” I rushed to reassure her. “I wouldn’t care if you were a were-llama. You’re still my best friend, Dee.”

“It hasn’t felt like that in so long.” She smiled weakly. “What’s a were-llama, by the way?”

I laughed. “It’s like a llama and a human, like a werewolf.”

Her nose wrinkled. “That is bizarre.”

“Yeah, it is.”

We’d stopped at Adam’s car. Ash was fiddling with her keys as she inspected her nails. Snow was already beginning to fall again, each flake fatter than the one before. I closed my eyes for a second, and when I reopened them, the snow had stalled. Over just like that, in the blink of an eye.

I loved Christmas when Dad was alive. Both of us were those people who digressed several years on Christmas morning. I’d scamper down the stairs at the crack of dawn to sit alone in front of the Christmas tree, spending the early hours of Christmas morning waiting for my parents to wake. A ritual only broken when Dad died.

The last three years, I’d made cinnamon buns alone, filling the air with their sweet scent, and when Mom came home from work, we’d exchange gifts.

This year was different.

When I woke up, the scent of cinnamon already permeated the air and Will was downstairs, wearing a checkered robe and sharing a cup of coffee with Mom. He’d stayed the night. Again. Upon seeing me standing in the doorway, he got up and hugged me.

I froze, my arms hanging awkwardly at my sides.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, patting me on the back.

I mumbled the same back to him, aware of my mom beaming from the couch. We opened gifts, like we used to with Dad. Maybe that’s what put me in a weird mood that lingered all morning, dogging every step I took, determined to ruin the holiday.

Mom had gone upstairs to shower after putting Will and me to work on dinner. He pulled a glazed ham out of the oven. His attempts at small talk had been vastly ignored until he went there .

“Any more overnight visits?” he asked with a sly, conspiratorial smile.

I beat the mashed potatoes harder, wondering if he were trying to be the good guy in the picture so I wouldn’t give Mom crap about him. “No.”

“Not like you’d tell me, right?” He dropped the oven mitts on the counter, facing me.

Honestly, I hadn’t seen Daemon since Saturday morning. Two days had gone by without a word from him.

“That boy does seem like a nice kid,” Will went on, pulling out one of the knives Blake had thrown at my head. “He’s a little intense, though.” He paused, brows drawing in a slant as he held the knife up. “Well, so was his brother.”

I almost dropped the spatula. “You’re talking about Dawson?”

Will nodded. “He was the more outgoing of the two, but just as intense. Acted like the whole world could end any minute and each second had to be lived to the fullest. I never got that impression from Daemon. He’s a bit more reserved, eh?”

Reserved? At first I wanted to deny that, but Daemon had always been…restrained. As if he were holding back the most important part of himself.

Cutting into the steaming ham, Will chuckled. “All of them were really tight. I guess that comes with being triplets. Like the Thompson kids.”

My pulse was jumping all over the place for no reason. I went to work on the potatoes again. “You sound like you know them pretty well.”

He shrugged, moving several thick slices onto one of Mom’s fancy porcelain platters that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. “It’s a small town. Pretty much know everyone around here.”

“None of them has ever mentioned you.” I sat the bowl on the counter and grabbed for the milk.

“Don’t know why they would.” He angled toward me, smiling. “I don’t think they even realize that Bethany was my niece.”

The carton of milk slipped from my fingers, knocking off the counter and hitting the floor. Frothy white liquid pulsed across the tile. Yet I stood frozen. Bethany was his niece?

Will set the knife down and grabbed several paper towels. “Slippery bugger, isn’t it?”

Snapping out of it, I bent down and grabbed the carton. “Bethany was your niece?”

“Yeah, such a sad story, and I’m sure you’ve heard it.”

“I have.” I placed the milk back on the counter and helped him mop up my mess. “I’m sorry about…what happened.”

“So am I.” He tossed the towels in the trash. “It destroyed my sister and her husband. They moved away just a month or so ago. I guess they couldn’t stand living here, being reminded of her. Then that Cutters boy disappears, just like with Bethany and Dawson. It’s a damn shame so many young people disappeared.”

Never once had Daemon or Dee said a word about Will being related to Bethany, but they also didn’t talk about her often. Troubled by the relation Will had and the mention of Simon, I finished making my potatoes in silence. He liked them country style—skin on. Yuck.

“There’s something I wanted to make sure you understood, Katy.” Will laced his fingers in front of him. “I’m not trying to take the place of your father.”

Surprised by the turn in the conversation, I stared at him.

He stared back, pale eyes steady and fixed on mine. “I know it’s hard when one parent moves on, but I’m not here to replace him.”