The Dawn of Dae (Dae Portals Book 1) (31 page)

“Wishes?” I whispered, unable to think of anything other than my father kissing my cheek and the words I had said, the wish I had made, and the lives I had destroyed—mine included. “Their wishes became the dae?”

“In the simplest of terms, yes. It’s complicated.”

“Wishes can’t come true.” I swallowed, shaking my head to deny my greatest fear and guilt.

“It’s complicated.”

“So simplify it for me.”

“Wishes can come true if you want them badly enough and believe someone will give you what you haven’t earned for yourself,” Rob replied, and after a long moment of silence, he smiled.

The years once again melted away from him, and his eyes twinkled. I couldn’t tell if it was a trick of my imagination or not. He slid onto the couch beside me. With a low, tired groan, he propped his feet up on the coffee table. “As I said, it’s complicated.”

For a stomach-churning moment, I was five again with the news of my parents’ deaths hanging over my shoulders, evicted from my home to an orphanage within the fringe. All of my doubts, uncertainties, and guilt clawed at me and reopened the old wounds I thought had healed.

“Are you serious?” My voice wavered. “How is that even possible?”

“You’re willing to accept the emergence of the dae, but you can’t believe how we’re created?” Rob stared at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was confused or amused by me. “Humans aren’t the only dreamers in the universe, you know.”

There was no proof I had killed my parents with my wish. I kept telling myself that until I relaxed and was able to focus on other things. Rob, however accidentally, provided me with the perfect out.

“I guess that means we aren’t alone in the universe after all,” I muttered, wondering how things would change once the world figured out there was a legitimate reason to search the stars for sentient life.

“You’re not. I’ve told you too much at once, haven’t I? You look like I’ve clubbed you over the head.”

At the worry in Rob’s voice, I shook my head. While I didn’t like his attitude, and I definitely had problems with his constant possessiveness, he hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault I had made a wish as a child.

If what he told me was true, it wasn’t his fault someone else had created him with a wish. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in a dae’s shoes, to know I was the product of someone’s imagination—to exist because someone had inadvertently willed me into existence.

I couldn’t help but wonder who had created Rob—and what they had wished for, to make someone so egotistical and possessive. Frowning, I considered him for a long moment. “You were created by someone.”

“I never had a bonded human partner, if that’s what you’re wondering, Miss Daegberht. Not all dae are like Arthur. Not all of us require a human host to survive or to be born. I have not consumed anyone, nor do I have any intentions of doing so.”

“Define consume,” I ordered, although I had a pretty good idea he meant eat. Terry Moore, after all, had become a snack for a pink-winged werewolf.

“While some dae enjoy consuming flesh for sustenance, those who do don’t tend to live very long. Cannibalism is bad form, even for us, for all we’re a bit more liberal in our culinary choices.”

“That werewolf ate Terry Moore,” I reminded him.

Rob smirked. “He didn’t live very long, now did he?”

“Point.”

“You want to know what I eat.”

“You read minds,” I accused.

“I don’t, actually. Some dae can, but I’m not one of them. Since I was created without being bonded directly to an individual, I don’t have the same, ah, requirements as others of my kind. Arthur’s a good example. His progenitor likely desired love or a partner. Considering the name he is using, his progenitor was consumed, and Arthur took over his identity. It’s common enough among weak dae lacking control or finesse, and passion often manifests as fire. Perhaps the original Arthur Hasling longed for someone who was dead. Those sort of feelings turn into a dae who feed on their bond’s pleasure
and
pain. Most humans strongly desire what they can’t have.”

I flushed and wondered how I was any different. My skin problems always left me desiring what I couldn’t have—someone touching me without me breaking out in hives and rashes.

At the rate I was going, I really would die a virgin—or die trying to lose my virginity. As always, I was left frustrated, annoyed, and curious.

“There are a lot of fire-breathers out there,” I commented, forcing my thoughts away from sex before I opened my mouth and said something I’d really regret.

With Rob’s looks, he probably had a line of women wanting a piece of him, older or not. Lily would probably be vying to be first; men with experience were better at satisfying her.

I wasn’t doing a very good job of steering my thoughts to something other than sex. Instead of yanking my hair like I wanted and snarling at the source of my frustration, I kept still and quiet.

It wasn’t Rob’s fault he pressed my buttons—
all
of my buttons, particularly the ones that made me want to jump into bed with him and find out about everything my skin condition had prevented for all of my teenage and adult life.

Rob showed no sign of noticing my discomfort and replied, “They are common, yes. Most of them were probably created by a human wanting someone they can’t have. The stronger their bond’s desire, the stronger the dae they birth—and the more likely they’ll end up consumed or destroyed as a result.” Rob sighed and shrugged. “I can only speculate.”

For someone who was speculating, Rob sounded confident enough. I scowled. “How do you know so much?”

“Not all of the dae were born yesterday, so to speak. Let’s just say I’m a bit older than the ones created during the Dawn. There aren’t many like me.”

“Is that why people roll over when you go strutting by like some senile peacock?” I muttered.

“I’m wounded,” Rob gasped, clutching at his chest to slump over the arm of the couch.

“Bullshit.”

He laughed. “You don’t roll over for me.”

“And why should I? I’m not—”

Twisting around, Rob pressed his fingers to my mouth. “You have a choice, Miss Daegberht. You can be my woman, or you can go to the highest bidder. Others would use you at his leisure until you’re drained dry.
I
don’t consume humans or dae to survive, and the newborns are too stupid to figure out they’re shooting themselves in the foot. Think it through. I’m the better choice.”

I should have bitten him again. Instead, I gawked at him like an idiot, at an absolute loss as to what to say. When I managed to gather my wits, all I could stammer was, “I’m not for sale.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Without a dae, you’re at a disadvantage. The stupid ones will think you inferior, something to be consumed and discarded. The smart ones will want you—permanently.”

I pulled away from Rob, scooting along the couch to the other side. “And what about you?”

“I’m one of the smart ones. You’re lovely when you bristle and get upset when I call you mine,” he murmured. “So much pride. You can’t decide if you hate me or not, can you?”

My cheeks burned, and the heat of my embarrassment spread down my neck towards my chest. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Rob followed me across the couch, leaning over me when he had me cornered. “You’re flustered and have no idea what to make of me.”

It was true, which served to unsettle me even more. “What the hell!”

“You wanted to know how I feed, Miss Daegberht. While I can eat the same things you do, they don’t sustain me.” Placing one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the arm behind me, Rob stared down at me. He didn’t touch me, but I was aware of how close he came to me.

I shivered, and while I opened my mouth to say something, I couldn’t force out a single sound.

“I could walk by you on the street and have a nice meal without you ever knowing about it or coming to any harm,” he continued, smirking at me. “Anyone can ease my hunger. All I need is to be near someone with strong emotions. You’re like a fire, warm and bright, and whenever I stand in your radiant heat, I’m satisfied.”

My eyes widened, and my shock was replaced by growing dismay. “You’re serious. I’m food to you.”

“You’re not food,” he snapped. “I enjoy when you’re happy—and it’s the little things, like the way you enjoy silk or the softness of your blanket. Scents, like the vanilla. You have so many emotions, Miss Daegberht, and you do nothing in half measures. I don’t even know what I’m sensing half the time with you, but I know this: your pain is vile, and when it’s so strong it’s all you feel, I want to kill him even more for what he did.”

Rob’s distress baffled me. Why did he care? He didn’t know me. He hadn’t known anything about me when he had stepped out of my refrigerator and staked his ridiculous and infuriating claim on me. For no obvious reason, Rob’s breath came hard and fast. He closed his eyes, and his cheek twitched. There was something wrong with me, because his pained expression bothered me. I reached up, brushing the tips of my fingers against his cheek.

He froze at my touch. After drawing several deep breaths, he asked, “What are you doing?”

I stared at my fingertips. They weren’t red, they didn’t itch, and they didn’t hurt. No hives, blisters, or rashes formed. “It really doesn’t hurt.”

With a grunt, Rob shoved himself back, sitting beside me on the couch and watching me with a frown. “Your reactions are really that severe and instantaneous?”

“Always,” I whispered, staring at my hand in search of the telltale rashes. While paler than normal, a consequence of my battered health, my skin remained unblemished. Was it because Rob was a dae?

That wasn’t right; Arthur was a dae, and his touch hurt me.

Colby had also touched me, and untangling my legs from the blankets, I examined where my macaroni-and-cheese roommate had rubbed against me. Thanks to wearing thick jeans, my legs suffered the least, and I saw no evidence of any new scars. “Are you sure I’m not on drugs that stop the reaction?” I demanded, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re not. Antibiotics have no effect on allergic reactions, and it wasn’t wise to keep dosing you with medication you didn’t need. The painkillers should be wearing off soon, too.”

I did feel far more clearheaded than I had when I had first awoken.

Guilt smothered my pride. Without Rob’s help, I’d be in a lot of trouble—or dead. Swallowing several times, I mumbled, “Thanks.”

“I gave you my word I wouldn’t get you hooked again.”

I shivered at the memory of the sensual enjoyment of the painkillers and reaching the most elusive of highs. The need to experience it again grew, and I swallowed, clenching my teeth together so I wouldn’t ask for more drugs.

I wanted to so much it hurt.

Anger was better than the cravings, so I focused all of my attention on what Arthur had done—and what Rob wanted with me. “What makes you different from Arthur? I was food to him. You eat, too. Like him. Emotions.
My
emotions.”

“I am nothing like Arthur,” Rob stated, his tone so cold I flinched. “Dae like him steal everything from their humans, dulling their emotions, and stealing their ambitions. Of course, bonded humans are resilient, so they thrive despite feeding their dae.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing about how you’re different from him.”

Rob leaned over and pressed his palm to my cheek. “Is my hand warm?”

With wide eyes, I stared at him for a long moment, wondering what he was trying to accomplish. His hand was warm, and pleasantly so, and I was also aware of how soft his skin was against mine. “I guess,” I mumbled.

“Would you say my warming you with my hand is damaging to me?”

“No, I guess not.”

“That’s why I’m different. All I need to do is be near someone with strong emotions. I do no harm to them—or to you. Just like you benefit from the warmth of my hand.”

“Benefit is a strong word,” I muttered, ducking away from his hand. I touched my cheek. “It really doesn’t hurt. What’s wrong with you? That’s not normal.”

Rob chuckled. “Let me get you some more soup. Then it’s time for you to get more rest. You’re so tired you’re not making any sense. There’s nothing wrong with me, Miss Daegberht. There’s nothing wrong with you, either, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Chapter Twenty

It took me three more days to recover from my kidnapping. My wrist was still a mess, but it had healed enough I could use my left hand and no longer needed painkillers. Colby ended up spending the vast majority of time with me, although I had some faint memories of Rob nearby while I slept. Either due to my request or the fact I was recovering fast enough for his liking, he didn’t drug me again.

He left antibiotics for me to help with the infection, and I chose to take them when he wasn’t looking.

I valued my hand
and
my pride.

Without the drugs and cold hampering me, I could think—and work on a plan to escape Kenneth’s chokehold on my life. I lounged on the couch while Colby bounced on the coffee table.

“Mommy,” my roommate said, nudging the television’s remote.