Daughter of Darkness - Juliana Haygert Page 0,49

the festival.

But her hair was blond and her jacket was ripped with a few red stains.

Blood.

She was bleeding.

I raced to her.

Kenna jumped back and raised her hands, as if she would attack me, or defend herself, but once she saw it was me, she lowered her arms and her face paled more.

“Devon,” she whispered, putting her hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“What happened?” I looked her over. Her jacket was torn around her right upper arm and her chest, but only the former seemed to be bleeding. “Are you okay?” Despite her injuries, I couldn’t shake the fact that her hair had gone from brown to blond in a matter of minutes. “What happened to your hair?”

She picked up a loose strand and brought it in front of her face. “Shit.” She waved a trembling hand, dismissing my question, and walked right past me. “It’s … nothing. Just forget you saw it.”

“How can I forget it?” I caught up with her. She really wanted to go back to the festival looking like that? Even if people didn’t know about her hair, someone was bound to see her wound. Wait, was that a limp? “You’re hurt. What happened?”

Kenna took two more steps—yes, she was limping a little—and turned back to face me. “This is none of your … concern.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but shut my lips as her eyes met mine. So bright blue, so enchanting. Suddenly, I was a dumb fly caught in a spiderweb. “Kenna,” I whispered, taking a step closer to her. I wanted her to tell me what had happened, why she was in such state. I wanted her to let me help her.

I reached for her.

“There you are!” Carol’s voice was like a bucket of cold water.

Kenna took a large step back. She turned to Carol, a faint smile in her lips. “Were you looking for me?”

Sabrina and Kevin ran after Carol, but the three of them skidded to a stop and stared at Kenna a second later.

“What happened to you?”

“What’s up with your hair?”

“Did you just dye it?”

“Is that … blood?”

The three of them unleashed a series of questions, the ones I wanted to ask, but Kenna dismissed them too.

“No time for that,” she said. “I was on my way to find you. We have to go.”

Kevin’s face fell. “Why? The parade just started and we didn’t have a chance to see it yet.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Kenna fished out her cell phone from her pocket. “My mother called. She needs me home, so we need to go. Sorry.”

I frowned. She was lying.

I wanted to go after her, to confront her, to make her answer everything, but the way she ushered her friends back toward the parking lot, trying to hide her limp and her shaking hands, made me pause.

I would confront her, just not now.

Puzzled, I watched as they hopped into her car and drove away.

Only then I remembered the darkness and the demons that had been lurking around the town’s edge before I bumped into Kenna. I opened my senses, trying to pinpoint their location so I could go after them and kill them all.

But the darkness and the demons were gone.

Past

Kianna

Kianna stared down at her shaking hands. Perhaps it had been the heat of the moment, the excitement of the night. After all, it wasn’t always that she had such a great time—mostly because of Devon—but she was sure she had felt something back at the festival.

Something odd, something different.

A thick feeling like a sea of oil stirring inside her, coming for her, reaching its dark tendrils to her.

A shudder rocked her body. Kianna dropped her hands and stared out at the lake, to the faint reflection of the moon on the water’s surface. It was the middle of the night and everyone was sleeping. Everyone but her. After tossing and turning for hours, thinking and agonizing about this wicked feeling, Kianna threw her blankets away, put on a thin overdress over her nightgown, marched down the hill, and took her spot on the bench under the cherry tree.

Now, if only she could make her hands stop shaking and her breathing slow, she could relax and go back to sleep.

A shadow fell to her left. Kianna’s heart raced. “Who’s there?”

“It’s just me,” Devon said, as he walked closer to her.

The moonlight gave his face a pale glow, making him look like a dark god. Maybe the god of death? He had the characteristics she had read in novels—stoic, strong,

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